Life In The Hospital

Monday. Labor Day.

I can see families out on the nearby bike trail. Normally I would be so excited about this day off work. It feels strange for it to be just another day in the hospital. I try to imagine what all of our different friends are out doing today.

Labor Day is for labor. Let's get this show on the road, Hannah. Avoid that surgery!

She is going to be so shocked on Thursday. I don't think she has any plans of leaving me for at least 3 more weeks.

Meghan, RN and Betty, LVN are my nurses today. Meghan is young and very sweet. She tells me about her family drama and she lets me get away with stuff. (ya know - like standing up and stretching my hips or other such crimes against pregnancy) She's the least protective one. Betty is more mature. She takes good care of me and tells me how it is. She has a lot of life experience.


This is my morning routine in antepartum.

1. Wake up around 5 or 6 because I can't stand the bed for one more second.

2. Look on Facebook to see who stayed up late. Hit 'like' on everything of interest so that I get lots of notifications all day.

3. Look in my 3 email boxes to find mostly nothing.

4. Find something on Netflix Instant that might hold my interest for a few minutes.

5. Call in my breakfast order promptly at 7 when they open.

6. Watch the Netflix thing.

7. Get my blood pressure checked and my temperature taken.

8. Have a huge scale rolled into my room and face the daily numbers.

9. Listen to Hannah's heart on a monitor for at least 30 minutes while they record it.

10. Eat breakfast.

11. Get dressed for the day. - For this I am extremely thankful. I don't have to wear a gown and I'm not attached to any tubes or wires.

12. things come to a complete halt. Now I sit. I repeat # 2-4 a lot.


I don't turn on the TV because:

1. I am spoiled to my DVR. I really have no tolerance for the commercials.

2. I can't control the volume from my bed. The nurse who admitted me informed me it was broken and then adjusted it for me manually. If I want it different now, I have to ask someone to do it. Not worth it.

3. I can't type in a channel number. I have to click past every channel to get to what I want. There are 40 channels.

4. It gives me a headache and makes me feel un-alive. Like a zombie.

5. There is NOTHING worth watching.

I mostly do the following:

1. Sit and think.

2. Listen to my music on the laptop.

3. Look at the tower across from mine and try to guess why those people are in the hospital.

4. Wonder who will come today and at what time.

5. Listen to the second hand on the clock in my room.

6. Read.

7. Cry occasionally - due to hormones. (My doctor said the crying is very normal and that I should watch The Color Purple and just get it all out. Maybe today.)

8. Pray. For Hannah's health and mine. Mostly I worry about Down's Syndrome. We didn't test for it.

9. Run through various escape plans in my head.


The best thing is when people stop by to see me. I think this is because I'm not exactly sick. I'm just at risk of becoming gravely ill on a seconds notice. I don't need to "get my rest" or any such thing.

I like visitors. I like it when they come for about 30 minutes to an hour. They tell me about life outside of here and I tell them what I ordered for lunch. Then we think excitedly about Hannah's arrival and then they go. And this makes me feel happy and normal for about 2 more hours of my day. It's like getting a happy shot!

The nurses check my blood pressure and temperature every four hours. This breaks up the rest of the day somewhat.

Bruce comes in the evenings. He takes me on my wheelchair outing and then we sit in the room like we're home on the couch. We watch a movie or talk or both. It's probably the best part of every day because I almost feel like I'm home.

I think God is teaching me a lot through all of this.

1. How to let people do things for me. This is a big one. Small things or big things - saying yes to offers was already hard enough. I've now learned to actually ask people to do things.

2. Quietness is good. Time without any distractions. Time to sit and reflect and maybe even create. We live in a society of constant input. We're bored without it. Time to process all that input is rare. It has actually been a blessing.

3. People in the hospital feel caged and isolated. I am going to become a person who visits people in the hospital. I will go prepared with a funny story and an encouraging word. I will ask what the nurses are like and what they had for lunch. I will leave when the conversation dies and they start to feel the need to entertain me. I will encourage other friends of this person to do the same.

4. Husbands can take care of things. I do not have to be super woman. I can let Bruce do things. Heck - I can even ask him to do things! They actually like this. It's how they best show love.

5. God is in control. I am not. And trusting Him is the most peaceful thing I can do right now.