Birth Stories...continued

So as I was saying...You know how if we actually knew everything we think we wish we knew, we would wish we could go back and not know it.

Right.

So anyway...My first night "downstairs" was successful. No baby. Bright and not-so-early the next morning I got to move upstairs to the perinatal unit and...EAT!! Thank you Lord!! I still had that blasted catheter and I was hooked up to massive amounts of magnesium, but food glorious food. Honey, I checked every single option on that menu. I am serious as a heart attack - food I do not joke about. And girl they brought it. Every single option under that breakfast heading.

Along with a note that they would not be serving cheeseburgers until lunch.

Shortly after lunch the heat set in. Oh yes, it was December. And oh was it cold. But if you've ever been on heaping doses of magnesium for any period of time, you know the heat. It's not a burning sensation. It's just straight up heat. From the inside out. And I don't care how high you turn on the air, how numb your husbands extremities get, how nurses refuse to come in, even when ice crystals form on your IV bag - it just ain't gonna work. It's hot.

As I sat sweltering in my own skin, I also became increasingly aware of the bands around my belly that were most assuredly meant to squeeze the ever loving life out of me. One to monitor the baby's heart rate and one to monitor my contractions. Or either to just go ahead and pop that baby right out. Man those things are tight. Or maybe they just get that way after two days.

So anyway...The on-call doctor says there is no way he would send me home, but my usual doctor says she's going to wean me off of magnesium, put me solely on oral pills, and send me home on Monday. She breezes in and acts like this is no big deal.

That is after she tells me I'll be going home on "bed rest".

Bed rest? Are you kidding?! Woohoo! I mean I have no other kids to tend to and I've had friends on bed rest. They don't go to work, they can't do any housework, but they still get to go to church, walk around a little bit. Sounds more like a vacation.

Maybe not.

My nonchalant little let it roll off her shoulders obstetrician gave me a laugh so hearty it made me wonder if it was some sort of cruel sound effect machine she carried around with her.

She then went on to explain that "bed rest" for ME means:
A)Staying in the bed.
B)Showering every third day, with shower chair.
C)Getting up once a day to go to the bathroom (you don't want to know).

Okay wait. What exactly IS going on here?