Jane from L.A.: Wasn't that a movie? The movie of my LIFE, maybe. Eighty days. Eight-oh. In bed. Eleven-and-a-half weeks lying down. Seriously.
The doctors just left my 31-week house call. They liked what they saw. I saw a big blob on a tiny portable machine. Beautiful. The little man is about 3 3/4 lbs.
For those of you carefully reading each blog, you're probably thinking, "Hey, I thought she was going to their offices at 32 weeks. What gives?" Well, I was going to go to their offices next week, but a friend called me and said, "So you're going to get up at 32 weeks ... after lying there for 12 ... and risk something happening? Are you nuts?!" I listened to her and asked the dynamic duo to come here one last time. Wasn't that nice of them?
So, yeah. Still lying here. Still pregnant. Am I boring you? Maybe that's a good thing. I hope to continue to be boring for a while. My water broke with Willa at 32 weeks, four days -- and I delivered her just shy of 33. Wouldn't it be neat to beat that after all this? If I make it to (dare I say it) 36 weeks, the cerclage stitch will be removed and then all bets will be off. But I'll be term and Junior can do whatever the hell he wants to at that time. I have dreams of being a big pregnant person, waddling around at 37 weeks in a muumuu: "Who me? Yes, I'm sooooo pregnant." If that happens and you hear me complain about how tired I feel or how sick of being pregnant I am, you can slap me. Hard.
Here are some fun facts:
Joe Wiseman, my hero and shower timer-er, got his pilot picked up in the midst of all this crap. I'm proud.
I have not had my hair colored in 20 weeks. That's five months, in case you were wondering ... and visualizing. Yuck.
By some act of someone, I have managed to only gain 18 lbs. in 31 weeks of pregnancy
-- not for lack of trying. I live on chocolate-covered pretzels and turkey paninis. I plan to put on a good 20 or so before Junior gets here, so I can wear said muumuu at 37 weeks.
The day I hit 30 weeks, I let myself begin to discuss names with Joe (no, Joe, his name won't be "Ajax Lokey Wiseman") and order boy bedding. I immediately regretted my actions and spent the night convinced I was going to go into labor. I did not.
My mother, father, mother-in-law and Joe have slowly but surely unpacked my new house while I lie here like a slug. I can't wait to see it!
My next appointment with the docs is at 34 weeks -- at their offices. I hope I make it that far. But I am definitely happy and grateful that I didn't deliver this baby in weeks 20 through 30. That was so real and such a possibility. I woke up most mornings in a panic. I feel like I could handle it if he came early now. But if he could just wait a month or so ....
I hear Willa crying. That means Joe will pick her up and bring her to my room so I can kiss her boo-boo. It's not much, but I'll take it.
* "Notes from Bedrest" is a new column that features e-mails
from a mom who recently experienced bedrest. We are posting her e-mails
chronologically in the order she wrote them.