So the reason my blog has died off for the past two months stems from a couple of reasons. First off, we took a wonderful two week vacation to see family--the first real vacation we've had since being married. When we came back I was still very morning sick, but finally managed to get a prescription for Zofran (aka the wonderdrug) after a few best forgotten vomiting incidents and more lost weight. Then I had three beautiful weeks. Three whole weeks in September where I felt pretty good, got some energy back, and Randy had a wife again. I cleaned the house, we went to the park and threw the baseball around, we went on walks, the chinchilla got a playmate, I got a new job freelancing from home . . . and life was beautiful.
Then, it started. The braxton-hicks I had been experiencing turned kind of nasty, and I ended up in labor and delivery on an IV and being shot up with all manner of drugs. One drug was a muscle relaxant and supposedly helped calm the contractions (I felt like I had parkinsons and a heart attack), one drug was for the pain (morphine shots = no fun), and one drug was for the nausea that morphine causes (true irony--this is the same drug they had given me for morning sickness earlier in my pregnancy I refused to take because it turned me into a Zombie for 24 hours). The only consolation to all the poking and prodding--of which there was plenty, let me assure you--was that kiddo was doing fantastic. Through every hospital stay ( we just had number nine) he has flirted with the nurses, tap danced away from the monitors, kicked the monitors, and practiced what I can only imagine is some kind of energetic tai-chi inside my stomach. By all accounts he is very healthy, and I can verify that he is VERY active.
This all started about six weeks ago. at that time I was not quite 28 weeks, which is pretty small for a baby to be delivered. I received steroid shots to develop his lungs more rapidly, and have been a good girl (thanks to my angel mother who flew into town to rescue Randy and me) and have been on bed rest for the aforesaid six weeks. Tuesday we celebrated 34 weeks, the big milestone where we can not worry so much about our baby. Randy brought me the most beautiful flowers to cheer up my little prison, I mean spot on the couch, and now we are just waiting to see when our little guy will finally join us.
We have been so blessed throughout this entire ordeal. At every point along the way when I thought I just couldn't handle it anymore, something has come along to make things livable. When it was morning sickness, it was Zofran. When I was in the hospital three times in one week, it was my mom flying into town to take care of me. When I have been discouraged I have had blessings and prayers and flowers from my husband to cheer me up. So I really can't complain--I have been well taken care of.
I probably won't post again until the baby comes, unless I get ambitious and decide to take pictures of the little crafty projects that I have been doing to ease the boredom of bed rest. I finished the afghan for baby, knitted a bunting, some critter hats for a friend's baby shower, and now I'm finishing up some socks. Some day maybe I'll post pictures from this summer--from our fun vacation, a baseball game etc. But until then, you know where to find me. On the couch trying to drink the three quarts of water I'm supposed to drink a day, in between a few very important naps and the occasional trip to the hospital for more delightful drugs :o)
