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And A Baby Carriage.

Hospital day who-can-even-count-anymore

bed rest

The last week has been trying.  Really, really trying.  I’m sick of the hospital and sick of being away from my son.  Oh, and also physically sick – as in vomiting for several hours Wednesday night.  And worrying incessantly about the rest of my family who caught the bug and I wasn’t there to care for.  Yea, I had my limit.

I’ve cried and cried and cried.  I told my husband I was done, that I couldn’t do it anymore, that I was coming home.  So, I called in the nurse practitioner and told her through my tears that I needed to go and I couldn’t wait until Sunday for the doctor to check my cervix and make his weekly decision.  I asked to get off my contraction meds and check me sooner.  He agreed to do it today.  I geared myself up for leaving even though I knew it wouldn’t happen.

Since my check on Monday my cervix shortened more, measuring once at 1.1cm and once only in millimeters.  And the big issue, my funneling was much worse.  They rate it in letters, mine being considered a “U”, which is the worse case.  Essentially, the top of my cervix is open and the bag of water is bulging down – like what you see here:

Save
I’m here for the long haul.  I have to face it and I have to figure out how to deal with it and make it through my days without soaking my pillow in tears.  I just don’t know how.  People ask me how they can help or what they can do and I don’t have an answer.  I don’t think there is one.  
One of the social workers that pops into everyone’s room to see how they’re coping (there are several “long term-ers” over here in antepartum) says they are going to hook me up with a friend next week.  Someone else who is stuck here and living the same life as I am.  I’m honestly not sure why they don’t do that from day one but, whatever.  I think that will be nice.
Accepting this and not holding my breath waiting for the next ultrasound to determine my fate is what needs to happen.  So is realizing that this isn’t permanent and when I’m sitting on the back porch in a few years, watching my three and five year old chase each other around the yard, this will feel so distant.  Logically, I get it.  I just have to keep reminding myself over and over again.
Blah.  Hopefully some more upbeat posting can resume shortly.  We’ll see…
Liz Nieman

Liz is a just a mom trying to keep it real about how little she sleeps, how often she gets puked on and how much she loves them. You can find her here every day writing about real-mom moments.

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By Liz Nieman

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