First of all, I want to thank you for all of your prayers and kind thoughts. When I get discouraged, I remember all of the people who are praying for me, my baby, and my family and it encourages me to know that so many people are surrounding us with their care.
I've waited to write anything more in hopes that I might have something more to share, but I'm afraid that life on the ante partum unit is not unlike life anywhere else. No news is good news. I'm still pregnant and the baby seems healthy. We can only wait and see where this is going. There is nothing I can do to help the situation other than to lie very, very still. All day. Every day. As much as I pity Peter's burden in all of this, I can bet you that he doesn't envy me a jot. I had been thinking of this as a version of Mommy Jail, but it occurred to me that even prisoners have recreation programs and physical fitness hours. I do have internet access, however, and someone to bring me water. I wager that the food is about the same, though.
So, here I am, trying to keep my spirits up and not spend too much time worrying about the baby or how things are going at home. Luckily, I know the kids are being well cared for by family and friends. They have been able to be with people they know and with whom they are comfortable. We are trying to keep them home most of the time, so that they can have some stability and structure to their lives. The person making them the peanut butter sandwich might change, but at least they will be home.
The great irony in this, of course, is that our kitchen is still set to be demolished on July 28th. So, even though they will be home, our house is going to change a great deal. At least they will be there to see the changes happen as the work progresses. It won't be too great a shock if they are there to watch and understand what is happening. I'm afraid that for me it will be more like falling asleep in the car and not knowing where I am when I wake up when I finally am able to go home again.