Day 11

I'm here and I am surviving! So far the hardest part is being apart from Owen. He is handling it better than I thought he would, but it's still hard, and I still cry every time we have to say goodbye. His poor little mind is probably so confused with what's going on. Thank goodness kids are resilient and he won't remember this time of seeming abandonment.

Dan's family brought Sunday dinner last week and we all ate and had a grand time (but I forgot to take a picture!) And my family brought Thanksgiving dinner and the ever-important PIES and we all ate and had a grand time. (Don't tell anyone that we used some conference rooms on the first floor for both of these "grand times." Pretty sure we weren't supposed to be in there, but it's not my fault if a door happens to be left unlocked. And what are they going to do - kick me out?)

What are my days like? Well, I take long showers every day because, why not? It's not like I have something I need to get to, and I'm pretty sure the book I'm reading can wait an extra few minutes. So during my long shower on Day Two, I decided to shave my legs. Somehow I managed to cut myself with my dull razor, and I must have done a good job of it because I couldn't get it to stop bleeding. It wasn't anything crazy, but I didn't want to get blood on my pants. And while I know my nurse would have been more than happy to bring me a band-aid, I didn't want to be known for the rest of my stay as the girl who can't shave her legs without cutting herself (yes, I'm weird). So I looked around and Macgyver-ed a make-shift band-aid out of a paper towel and some medical tape. It was perfect! And I thought I was so smart for figuring it out without needing any help and ruining my ever-important reputation. Of course by the time I found the stuff and got it on, the bleeding had pretty much stopped. Go figure. And now I have nasty medical tape residue on my leg that won't come off. Gross. BUT, I achieved my goal of not getting blood on my pants and not bothering my nurse. So I count it as a win!

In other news, I've made it through the first 2 Gilmore's (the new ones, obviously). I'm keeping myself to one per day so I can truly appreciate them. The picture below is my giddy face when the "la la's" started at the beginning of the first episode. Bless whoever thought of a Gilmore revival!

My Incarceration: Day 7

This is a picture of the meal I earned after enduring the 3-hour glucose test this morning. I failed the 1-hour test last week. 😩  I blame it on the giant bag of Reese's that husband lovingly gave me. I have no self-control, especially when I'm stuck in a hospital.

Get in my belly!

They make you fast for the 3 hour test. Remember how you're not supposed to fast when you're pregnant? And then while you're not eating, you have to drink this nasty stuff that's basically one thousand percent sugar. Gross. I'm not sure how this test is legal, but whatever.

I figured a perk of living in the hospital would mean that I could start the test at 6am to minimize my fasting time. The doc okayed it. My nurse was on board. Too bad the phlebotomists who administer the test refuse to start until 7. Too bad I didn't know that until AFTER I woke myself up at 6. So I had to wait until after 10 this morning to eat anything. TEN!! (insert dramatic gasp here). Remember how I'm pregnant? When I told husband I wasn't going to be able to eat til 10 he responded with, "Whoa! You're going to be so grouchy!" (Bless him.)

So help me if I don't pass. How is a woman in the family way supposed to survive 5ish weeks in the hospital without chocolate?! I'm so nervous that I grabbed a pie as part of my breakfast, just in case the news is bad.

And if you were wondering if our life has settled down yet, it hasn't. Husband got in a fender bender on his way to work yesterday. 🚗  Thankfully he was driving his old ghetto car, but still. We have so many trials! 😉

To end on a happy note, I live for visits from my Owen. He's already learning the finer points of how to have fun in a hospital.

And So It Begins...

My "incarceration" began yesterday, and in true Ditto fashion it began with a bang! Being a crazy high-risk pregnant patient means I get to spend the rest of my pregnancy in the hospital. Yes, I said IN THE HOSPITAL. When is my due date? Oh, just February 4th. Yes, I said FEBRUARY 4th. But since the docs won't let me stay pregnant for too long (we don't want to have another explosion), baby girl will be here sometime before Christmas. (Best Christmas present ever!!) That means 4-6 weeks of living in the hospital. Lucky me.

Remember how we moved 3.5 weeks ago? Well, we did. I had all sorts of plans about getting everything perfectly setup and organized so that when I get out of the hospital with a new baby in tow I'll just be able to enjoy my new home and snuggle my perfect children (wink wink). Well, I'll still be able to enjoy my new home, but life happened and all that organizing just didn't get done. 

Thanks to new germs from a new place, Owen has either been sick or teething (or both) 97% of the time we've been in the new house. Needless to say the transition was tough on the poor kid. And 10 days after the big move he decided to share his germs with me. Worst cold I've had in years. And remember how when you're pregnant you can't take any medicine that actually helps? I felt like a pioneer. So instead of all the organizing/unpacking that I wanted to get done, Owen and I watched a LOT of Baby Einstein (if that stuff works on adults I must be a genius now!) ;)

And then. Then! We were T-minus 3 days to check-in and I had every minute planned out for what I wanted to get done, which involved a lot of help from Dan because I'm not allowed to lift anything. Then Dan's back decided to go out on him. It started Sunday and slowly got worse. By Tuesday morning I had to help him get dressed for work. Wednesday morning (the BIG day!) he woke up and couldn't move. (Not exaggerating here.) I spoon-fed him his breakfast and took care of Owen and packed bags for both Owen and I. Bless my angel mother-in-law for coming to the rescue when I realized I couldn't get it all done in time!

I left for the hospital with Dan flat on his back next to a load of painkillers and some food to keep him going. There is nothing worse than not being able to take care of your family! 

I won't elaborate on the separation from my Owen except to say that the goodbye was more than heartbreaking. And being pregnant and extra emotional sure doesn't help. He came for a visit today and it was balm to my soul.

Getting to the hospital was uneventful (nothing like driving yourself to the hospital because your husband can't move). They saved my lunch tray for me (hooray!) and I figured it was a good sign that my first meal had a package of peanut butter included.

The peanut butter. And my "I just bawled my eyes out because I had to say goodbye
to my family" face

This has nothing to do with my hospital stay, but my new ward managed to throw me a baby shower in the few weeks between the move and the incarceration. (Bless them!)  Can you believe how gorgeous this quilt is? I'm in love. And seeing it is a good reminder of why I am here. She will be worth it! (I keep telling her she better be the perfect baby after all this!)