Nine Weeks

I think I’ll blacklist the eleventh of April from hereon. It’s my Friday the thirteenth minus two. 
I know I promised this entry to be a Giveaway Product Review but that needs to wait now. I have a situation at hand to tackle before we get down with the review. Hang in there! It’ll come. 
Prof Tsakok sang her way out of her office to the waiting area to get me. What a good mood she was in. She chirped, “how are you today!?”
“Oh I’m good!” I replied. 
Without further adieu, we proceeded to the ultrasound table. My 73 year old obgyn who attended to my mum when she was trying to conceive me 33 years ago, placed her warm palms on my bulging pride. 
She frowned, “mmmm your uterus is cold. And it’s too tense. Let’s scan.”
A series of concerns came pouring through her one-sided conversation. I had no inclination to know what she was going to suggest to have my pregnancy under control. All I had ringing in my head was, “I just wanted to enjoy a normal pregnancy like all the other pregnant women, who can carry their toddlers, go to work and combat daily stress”
Our little girl is in a precarious situation and she highlighted that she was not exaggerating her findings. She suggested to have me admitted to the hospital for forced bed rest and observation. While she listed out her concerns blow-by-blow, my husband paced the room in utter annoyance and announced angrily, “you will stop picking Ewan from school with immediate effect.” I think I was exceptionally calm during the consultation but that’s how Capricons handle situations. 
I asked when she wanted me in. Instead of giving me a date, she asked me when I thought I should have myself admitted. 
“Erm one week later? See if things improve for us?” I bargained.
“Immediately.” came her reply.
I was definitely not ready for IMMEDIATELY. I had to arrange for Ewan’s pick up, his after school care, his meals, availability of caregivers, well basically his everything! I had only recently relieved the over-worked grandparents from picking him up from school despite their responsibilities to care for three other grandchildren. They are already 60 and granted the new 60s age well, we have to admit their energy levels are wearing thin as well. 
I wanted so badly to give them a breather  and gosh… the joy of picking up your child from school? You wouldn’t want to miss the world for it. It’s bliss. Besides, I really felt better from my morning sickness and random breathelessness. 
Now, it’s back to square one and worse. 
Prof said, “her bottom is stuck in your pelvis because she doesn’t have enough water to maneuver. Look at the monitor and see how she’s struggling to get out? You could be leaking amniotic fluid these past few weeks and that’s very dangerous. Now the blood flow to the baby is also below average. That’s a bad sign for growth. You need to stop everything you are doing and lie in bed. The only time you can get out is when you need to go to the loo. It’s that serious. We can’t risk her forcing her way out now. She’s weighing less than a kilogram!”
And we thought I had a difficult first pregnancy with Ewan risking a preterm appearance from a funnelling uterus.
Whatever it is, she sensed my apprehension towards admission. So a kind suggestion followed my silence. She gave her consent for me to conduct my bed rest regime at home. Since it’s the weekend, Meyer’s not working. He can take care of Ewan and all I am to do is lie in bed.  
We will see her on Monday again for a review. I was thankful (and hopeful) but Prof reminded us to not expect any improvements in just two days. She just wanted to ensure that the situation didn’t worsen. 
The next thing she said made my jaw dropped. She instructed Meyer to stack a couple of telephone books at the front of our bed to have it elevated so that I am lying with the bottom half of my body higher than my upper half. Before I could utter “huh?”, Meyer readily agreed. 
The first thing he did when he got home was to stack our front legs with the washing machine stands. I tell you, I have never felt so uncomfortable lying in bed before! I am the Princess who can feel that pea under 20 layers of mattress. It’s horrid!
I had been good and been doing nothing but my part of the bargain. We are nine weeks away from full term and we should persevere. All our April activities need to be shelved. No more Pirate Carnival, Easter Egg Hunt, Sandplay at Sentosa or Alisteir’s Birthday Party. Ewan could still go with Meyer but mummy will be missing out a whole lot. I’ve been so active with Ewan because I didn’t want to miss out on his growing up. However, my priority now should take a paradigm shift to ensure babyF is safe. It is, after all, my responsibility and no one else’s right now. 
Nine weeks isn’t too far but lying in bed for 63 days… can you imagine the challenge? I can’t swim, I can’t walk, I can’t go out for dinner, I can’t attend yoga classes, I can’t even sit on my bed. Ya let’s say I’m playing paralyzed. Look at how I blogged. With the iPhone above my head so that I’m lying flat on my back. Nevertheless, I’m thankful I’m in the internet age. The iDevices are my best companies and I use it so much I have to charge it twice a day. Anything to keep me from staring at a blank ceiling.  
The only upside to hospitalisation is lifting off stress from my caregivers – whoever they may be. Since I can’t cook my lunches no more, someone needs to bring me my meals. If I stayed in the hospital, Meyer need not worry about my meals and can concentrate only on taking care of Ewan instead of Ewan and mummy. 
His Saturday was packed and it’s not possible to go on like this for weeks. 
wake up – make Ewan’s milk – play with a very active boy – make mummy’s milk – bathe Ewan – head out to buy breakfast – set table for breakfast – feed Ewan – wash dishes – bring Ewan out for his public transport obsession – play date and lunch at neighbour’s – come home to bring me lunch – bring Ewan out to Pirate Carnival – turn back home because Ewan fell asleep in car – took a 2.5 hour break while mum & bub slept – did painting with Ewan – followed by water play in the tub – change the boy and went to buy dinner – wash dishes – Ewan goes to sleep – accompany mummy in bed until 2300hrs – tuck mummy in – watch Arsenal – did laundry at 0100hrs because Ewan puked his undigested corn all over his bed – slept at 0200hrs – wake at 0700hrs – Sunday on repeat mode 

Yet he was still his chirpy self, making sure I got everything I needed without having to leave the bed. I felt so sorry for my husband and at the same time worry about him snapping! One or two days of such hectic days is tolerable but a month… Maybe not. That is why I won’t be stubborn and insist my preference to stay at home despite the hospital’s unfamiliarity and the opportunity cost of not being able to see my boys as often as I want. Then again, there’s the hefty bill at the end of my stay if I was needed to be in for a month..

Dearest babyF and Ewan, I blog so that you can both grow up reading back on history. We love you both so much and would do our utmost best for your growth and safety. Be the best person you can be in society. A heart of gold is all I ask. Respect, Love and Appreciate – for these are wealthier than wealth and brains. 

I will positively fight for your well-being. Gambatte babyF! See you in June! Overdue is a good omen. I want you chubby as can be! Not incubated please. 

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