when life makes you slow down

If you're not following me on Instagram (which apparently is my social media of choice these days), I was admitted into the hospital on Sunday morning and had to stay overnight. I've been (probably jinxing myself) saying how this pregnancy is so much easier than my pregnancy with Ethan and, in so many ways, it has been. But when this pregnancy likes to throw me completely off whack, it does it in a big, big way. I started feeling crummy on Saturday. Ethan and I came back from a birthday party and I just didn't feel good. I attributed it to the heat and me not drinking enough and after pumping myself with fluids it sort of went away. Until the middle of the night when I was so dizzy that I couldn't tell which way was up, couldn't uncross my eyes or see straight (or see anything) and did horrible things to our poor mop bucket like something out of The Exorcist. I called my OB's emergency line and they had me head into L&D which somehow morphed into a trip to the good ol' ER. The perk to having had a problematic first pregnancy in which I basically lived in the ER was that we made friends with some of the nurses and my favorite nurse happened to be on when I was taken in. It's the little things. After some Zofran and dizziness medication and IV fluids, the doctor said I was dehydrated and had both a UTI and some Vertigo-like thing going on. The dizziness didn't come back after 12 hours in the ER (though being in that MRI tube made me want to vomit -- I don't recommend that to anyone), but the doctor wanted to admit me for observation overnight. Worst case was that it would return and I would pass out or fall and while pregnant, yeah, that wouldn't be good. My uncle is also an ER physician and when he told us he agreed with the doctor, I caved and let them admit me. It was the longest I had ever been away from Ethan and that broke my heart completely. All I really wanted was to go home to my little man, not stay overnight in a hospital room. That evening, the OB who delivered Ethan stopped by my room and because I'd been fine, said he could release me. As soon as he left the room to do my discharges, the dizziness came back on a smaller scale and I thought I was going to fall down after trying to walk back to my bed from the bathroom. Figures. So the nurse spoke to another OB at my practice and that OB wanted to keep me overnight.

The good news is, the dizziness didn't return and by 4 a.m., my pressure was no longer low. But 24 hours straight of IV fluids hurts -- I don't care what the well-meaning nurses said! -- and I just missed Ethan. And sleeping from a reclined position (a no-no because of the dizziness)...but mostly Ethan. When the OB discharged me, I got a seven day twice-daily antibiotic to take home with me and the warning to not do anything or be alone until it's finished. In the event the infection was causing the dizziness, she didn't want me driving or falling while by myself or with Ethan. My issue is that any days off of work my husband takes from now on are days he will lose when the new baby arrives. The plus is my parents live five minutes away so Ethan and I get to spend the week at what we jokingly call Grandma's Daycare. I'm familiar with Grandma's Daycare. I spent the bulk of my first pregnancy in Grandma's Daycare because of the bedrest. Every morning, my husband dropped me and my bags off at my mom's and picked me up on the way home. So here we are again, but now with Ethan in tow, and hopefully only for a week. Though it was a good lesson in not over doing it.

Before I got pregnant again, this was my biggest fear. This was why I waited so long for my next baby. I didn't want to break Ethan's routine. I didn't want to end up sick or laid up in bed and trying to figure out how to juggle a toddler who doesn't understand. In my head, it went a lot worse than it actually is proving to be. For a nearly three year old who is such a stickler for routine and loses his mind when his routine is broken, Ethan has been handling this like a champ and with the resilience and grace I wish I was handling it with. There have been no tears, no confusion, no begging for our activities that I'm not currently able to do. There has been no sadness and mourning the loss of the things we once did. There's just been this little guy who happily packs up a couple matchbox cars and giddily plays the "are we there yet?" game on the way to Grandma's house. He truly does amaze me.

Of course, this week couldn't go by any slower for me. My mom is busy with other things and I'm trying to make Ethan and I as invisible as we can be. He's been watching so many episodes of Doc McStuffins that my no TV allowed! rule is turning in it's grave, but beggars can't be choosers and a week of television won't kill him. I'm just trying to survive this week and kick off next week with our anatomy scan and my OB recheck on Tuesday in which I'll hopefully be cleared back for normal life. Albeit maybe a slower pace than the one I've been trying to keep up, but normal life nonetheless. With new tot trays and swim lessons and maybe finally getting a head start on the new baby's room and Ethan's bedroom makeover. And Easter Bunny photos. And...oh, I am so not good at helplessly laying around when there's so much stuff to do.

Such is life, right?