Today has been a very productive day at casa de la bedrest. T woke up early to go for a run, then made us smoothies and peanut butter toast before heading to work. I wonder if they do smoothies and PB&J at the hospital? (insert sarcasm)
T had to come home for lunch because we had a house showing. Yes, our house is for-sale. Great timing, eh? We had the choice to halt showings until I go into the hospital, but we decided to give it a shot. In three weeks, we’ve had only three showings, so it hasn’t been too bad. I think I turned one down, too. We just leave the house with the dogs for awhile and T runs an errand or two while I sit in the car, or we eat lunch in the car. If I felt it was too much stress for me, I wouldn’t do it.
I’ve spent the afternoon on my lawn chair in the backyard. I wrote some thank-you notes, got caught up on e-mail, talked to some friends, etc. Deb called to chat about what’s going to happen when I go into the hospital. My care will be transferred to the perinatal team at Abbott and I’m very comfortable with this. They are specialists used to dealing with this sort of thing and the two peris I met while in the hospital I liked very much.
Then I tried to wrap my head around a long-term hospital stay. I started a list of things to bring when I go. I will have a private room with a sofa sleeper for T. There’s a TV, DVD player, radio, refrigerator and microwave. Heck, if I bring a terrycloth robe, it’ll be just like I’m staying at the Hilton!
Actually, I’m really dreading the hospital. I can’t imagine anything feeling more like prison than hospital bedrest. At least at home I have all the comforts of home: bed, shower, birds in the backyard, dogs, etc. I hope I don’t have to be hooked up to an IV 24/7 but I’m afraid I know the answer to that question already. I’d never stayed in the hospital until I ruptured three weeks ago, and while I was only there for 32 hours, it was miserable. But I’m told the antepartum unit is much more homey than other areas of the hospital. We’ll see about that.
Still, I know making it to the hospital is a good thing. The day I check in is the day that this baby has a chance. A 40 percent chance. Every week after, the chance for survival increases. By week 27, it’s 90 percent. Those statistics aren’t taking into account the lung development issues that many pPROM babies have at birth. I’m not even going to consider that at this point.