Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Fortune

Sling and Arrows
It is early in the morning and I feel like I’ve already been bruised by the slings and arrows of bedrest.  I had been hopeful all week that the drs. would let me go home once I reached 32 weeks- which would be tomorrow.  Unfortunately, the primary dr. who has been overseeing my care while my dr. is on vacation said that she thought maybe next week.  I must have really gotten my hopes up because this felt like a direct hit to my chest.
I was sitting up in bed it my pajama pants and a t-shirt.  She asked if I was wearing this "get- up" because I thought I was going to go home.  I know she meant to be light hearted but it really hurt my feelings.  I have been wearing more "normal" clothes everyday since my IV was removed.  It just makes a body feel better to be in normal clothes.  Being in a hospital gown makes you feel like a sick person.  And I am not sick- aside from the terbutaline shakes, which at this point I don’t think are going to go away until I am off the medicine.  It’s hard enough to keep the blues away without feeling like you are sick (and have your butt hanging out of a hospital gown) on top of everything else.
Anyway, I had to have a major boo-hoo about it when Tony arrived with a lovely steaming latte and a scone from Starbucks.  What a treat!  I cried all over my scone and into my latte.  It’s just so hard being here and facing the monotony of each day- especially when I am having very few contractions and the babies are doing great. 
Outrageous Fortune
It’s also hard because on the other hand I am deeply thankful for our wonderful insurance and the fact that all of this hospital time will be essentially covered.  We do not have the added worry of huge bills piling up.  I truly wish that every person could have the security of knowing their medical expenses were covered.  Just the fact that ours are covered, does make me feel like the last thing I should be doing is crying, but rather I should be writing our HR dept a letter telling them how grateful I am.  And I will!  Once the babies have arrived, I plan to send a letter to our executives letting them know how important our insurance is and how grateful I am to our company- that this type of coverage eased my stress and directly helped us have healthier babies.  It is probably also saving money in the long run becuase it is a hell of a lot cheaper to take care of me than it is to care for tiny NICU babies for weeks at a time.
Yet, even all those feelings of gratitude don’t overcome my feelings of frustration and my heart wrenching desire to go home.  I often feel like one more minute of staring at the wall in front of me and I’ll go crazy.  I become convinced that they’ll have to sedate me down to a drooling lump to get me through it.  Sleeping at night has become torture.  The bed is so uncomfortable that after a few hours of sleep-aid induced slumber, I lay there in pretty serious back and tummy pain the rest of the night.  I finally get up, get dressed (in my "get- up") and sit in my adjustable bed staring at the lightening sky out my window, pondering my entertainment options for the day- reading, email, croswords, the infernal tv with its offering of mostly garbage and utter garbage….
It’s such a cliche to say that it will "all be worth" it, yet I tell myself that 100 times a day.  Tony tells me that, the nurses and doctors tell me that.  And I know on some level it will be.  I have friends who are still struggling with fertility issues and I know that they would gladly trade their unencumbered current status for a few weeks sitting on their butts in the hospital- with the result being two healthy babies that will irrevocably change and enhance our lives.
So, I sit here, and wait, and gestate.  It’s what I’ve been reduced to or graced with- depending on your perspective.  At this point, I don’t really have a choice but to acquiesce to the advice and instructions of others.  Not an easy position for a person to be in. 
Getting Ready for My "New" Coat
I am often struck by the fact that my "old life"- the life of "me" before starting down this pregnancy/fertility road over two years ago is gone.  I am never going to go back to being that person.  Once this chapter ends, the Mommy chapter begins.  The woman of two years ago is gone and I didn’t even know I was leaving that life behind- I wish I had had a chance to say a proper goodbye.  I always thought that somehwhere along the way I’d get to go back and visit, slip into that life- the person who ran regularly, the person who went out for drinks with her friends, the person who ached for a dog more than a baby.  I miss being able to be that person.  This mommy person is still scary to me- she has so many responsibilites and (I’ve heard) is so tired all the time.  She also has this great, incredible love for her children and hell, I’m a little scared of that too.  I feel like I am walking down a long hallway towards some cosmic Coat Check and the clerk is holding a jacket out for me to put on that is not the one I checked in with.  Looking from a distance, I like the coat but still feel unsure about its size and fit.  I know I can’t take it off, once he slips it over my shoulders, yet there is no where to turn aside in this long hallway.  My only hope is that the door beyond the clerk leads to a place with more sunshine and richness than the place I am leaving behind.  I know there will also be more rain, and wind, and mud- but you’ve got to really get down into anything worth doing and as I’ve told myself thousands of times over, this will be worth doing.

About jenlocati

JENNIE LOCATI started her blog, WYS Words as a way to share her experiences as a professional woman, wife, mother, and irrepressible “do-gooder”. Her diverse life experiences have taken her to Kenya as a Peace Corps volunteer, the trading floors of Wall Street, to PATH, and most recently back to Microsoft, where she works in Executive Communications. Jennie shares her many misadventures, occasional insights, and unique perspectives in a voice that is self-deprecating, honest, and authentic. Read more at
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