Yesterday started like any other day on hospital bed rest. They took my vitals, listened to the baby's heartbeat, gave me my line up of pills. One of the nurse practitioners from my high risk doctor's office stopped by and said she was going to ask the doctor about sending me home. She came back a few minutes later and said "sorry, he said he's too nervous about that placenta." Shockingly, I didn't cry, I was totally prepared for this since I'd been assured that I was there for the duration. I even made a paper chain (and it was really really long) counting down the days. My mom stopped by on her way out of town. My sister came in with crafting supplies, food and good company. Around 1:00, my "conservative" high risk doctor popped his head in and said "so, I'm sending you home." I was silent, thinking this was the meanest, most cruel practical joke EVER. But, he was serious. So 2 hours later, we packed up ALL of my junk, took the kid art off of the wall and we were headed home. I felt like it was a jail break and that they were going to come chasing after me at any moment.
So, last night James picked coming home to see me over soccer practice (which made me so happy) and we had dinner together as a family for the first time in almost 10 days. I read them books before bed, kissed them good night. We went to bed and woke up under the same roof. Isaac and I have had more than a 10 minute in passing conversation. I took a bath and slept in my own bed. Things are looking up today!
I'm trying to take every day home as a gift and an unexpected mercy, as I know another bleed is possible/likely and will mean no hope of going home until baby boy arrives. In the mean time, I'm enjoying the sound of chaos and little feet. We have a long way to go. But, it is good to be reminded that I am powerless, not in control. I can't make the days go faster, I can't take care of my kids, I can't stop bleeding or contractions, I can't make this baby or his heart develop...but my Father can. I'm reading the Psalms backwards as a countdown to 36 weeks (which is a lofty goal). Yesterday's was Psalm 63
Earnestly I seek you. My soul thirsts for you. My mouth will praise you with joyful lips...when I remember you upon my bed (kind of funny, right), and meditate on you in the watches of the night for you have been my help and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy. My soul clings to you, your right hand holds me.
Oh Potts! I'm just catching up on all of this. How many weeks are you now? I am so glad to hear you have the steroids on board. I got those with Ann Mabry, and I think they made a major difference. I wish there was something I could do to help you. Love and prayers headed your way!!
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