Our trip to the ER and Bo's {almost} Birthday

Yesterday was the most frightening day of my life.  Cameron and I went for Bo's weekly check up.  It started as a normal day.  At lunchtime, I left work and came home to meet Cameron.  He drove us up to the doctor.  I felt tired, but otherwise not bad considering that whole pregnancy thing.  The nurse weighed me and sat me down to take my blood pressure.  The look on her face panicked me.  She instructed me to go into the exam room and lie on my left side and wait for the doctor.

It wasn't my life that flashed before my eyes as I laid there - it was the last 9 months.  It was all the people who told me to take it easy and all the times that I rolled my eyes.  It was the stubborn way that I had screamed at my husband that I am pregnant - not an invalid, thankyouverymuch!  I prayed for this baby like I had never prayed for anyone in my life.  I couldn't find the words to express my fears, and I don't think that I would have even been able to pray them if I could find them.  Have you ever been so terrified of something that speaking about it makes it too real?  That's where I was.

The doctor came in and explained to us that based on my blood pressure, she was sending us to the hospital for blood work and monitoring.  She explained the dangers of high blood pressure and pregnancy.  She said words like seizure and stroke.  She told us that based on the results of the tests, things could progress in a couple of ways.  They'd do blood work and an ultrasound.  Based on the results, they could possibly go ahead and induce labor. 

I knew that I had done this.  I looked at Cameron, knowing that he had told me so.  He had informed me thusly.  I knew that he had every right to be angry with me.  He just looked scared.  Our doctor was fantastic.  It was like she knew everything.  It was as if she had lived our situation.  She told us that she had thought during pregnancy that she could do it all.  She told us how angry she had been at her husband when he insisted that she slow down.  She told us that this is hard and would be hard and when it was all said and done, we'd love each other more than we ever thought possible.  I believe her.

Cameron drove me to the ER.  I was admitted to the triage room in the labor and delivery wing.  My blood pressure was still way way too high.  After 10 minutes on my left side, it came down significantly.  They drew blood for labs and asked for a urine sample.  I was horrified to realize that the couple of minutes and the small amount of effort it took for me to go to the bathroom was enough to spike my blood pressure to a frightening degree.

I took my first wheelchair ride down to the ultrasound lab.  Baby Bo got all 8 points on his BPP, and we took solace in that.  The ultrasound tech estimated Bo's weight at 8 pounds and 4 ounces.  He was moving and shaking in his normal squirmy way.  They wheeled us back up to triage and I was put back in the bed.  Cameron and I shamelessly eavesdropped on the nurse as she consulted with two of the doctors from our practice.  She told them that ALL of my labs had come back normal.  My blood pressure was still elevated, but I was otherwise healthy.

I was discharged with instructions to return in 24 hours.  I've been off my feet now for over 12 hours.  Bedrest for a pregnant woman who has to pee every hour or so is difficult to wrap my head around, but I understand that this is imperative.  I knew that being a parent would change things.  I knew that my son would teach me things.  I just didn't know that it would start so early.  I'm learning to swallow my pride.  I'm learning to ask for help.  I'm learning what it really means to love someone else more than myself.

My Intervention

Since being placed on husband-enforced couch rest for the 15 hours per day that I am not at work, I sit after work and stare longingly at hot spots in my house that just need a touch up before Baby Bo’s arrival.  Cameron does an excellent job of taking care of things – he is a smart guy and learns quickly.  Gone are the days when he didn’t know how to turn on the vacuum or which of my clothes CANNOTGOINTHEDRYER!  Keep in mind that if I sound like I am complaining, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that any issues that I have stem strictly from the fact that in my mind, no one can keep my house like I can. 

Last weekend, my aunt and my cousin offered to come over and help me set up my baby spaces.  Our house has limited square footage, and while Bo and Tyler will share a bedroom, I do NOT want Tyler to feel displaced by the new baby at all.  The crib and a dresser will go into Tyler’s room, but for the foreseeable future, Baby Bo will reside in a bassinet in our room.  I had plans to keep his clothes and a changing station in our room.  I was a little overwhelmed by what seemed to me to be 7 million tiny decisions and by my admitted lack of any decorative eye.  After 2 amazing showers, there were clothes, toys, nursery decorations, and all the miscellaneous baby things that inevitably go with bringing home baby.

We decided that Auntie M and Rebecca would come over on Wednesday evening, and we’d put everything in its place.  By Tuesday evening, it was clear to me that I was not going to be comfortable having anyone in my house in its current condition.  Cameron assured me that everything would be just fine, that no one expected my house to be spotless, and that he would clean Wednesday morning before work.  Wednesday morning, I texted Rebecca to tell her that I just couldn’t do it.  I just couldn’t have them at my house.  She asked me to call her, which I did.  She informed me in no uncertain terms that this was an INTERVENTION.  They were coming.  They were bringing dinner, and I just needed to tell her what I wanted for dinner.  (This might have lead to another mini-breakdown where I begged her to just bring ANYTHING for dinner as long as I didn’t have to make a decision.)

At 5:30PM, I arrived home from work and under strict orders from Rebecca, I changed my clothes, but I cleaned nothing.  Thankfully, Cameron - true to his word - had basically cleaned the entire house.  I sat down and wrote a few thank you notes and waited for the reinforcements.  They arrived with spaghetti (all ingredients fresh from the farm), garlic bread, AND dessert.  Once we had eaten and talked Bumbo recalls and baby shoes, we moved into my bedroom.

Rebecca refolded all my onesies.  Apparently there's an art to it.

  We sorted through ALL the baby stuff.  They helped me decide what needed to stay in arm’s reach and what could be put away for a while.  

Major life lesson: Diapers can NOT live in the linen closet.

They hung decorations and took tags off of toys.  

Auntie M made the quilt!  Super cute.  Letters were crafted by One Rad Mother and Mellow.

Thanks for these also goes to One Rad Mother.  She's amazing.

Basket of fun!

Super awesome wash cloth dinosaurs, made by Ben, for my diaper cake.   Love them.

Auntie M made a trip to the closest store for Rubbermaid drawers and baskets for sorting.  

Thank you, Margaret!!

We laughed.  We talked about packing a hospital bag.  We looked at bringing home baby outfits.  We oohed and aahed over onesies with whales that said “Little Squirt”.  We worked until almost 9PM.  Then we ate dessert. 

As quickly as they came, they were gone – leaving me tired and thankful for my family and friends who don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. 

*** Edited to Add*** 

The finished product!!