Thursday, October 25, 2012


Tuesday late afternoon I was sent home, much to my surprise. I wasn't against going home. I was just against going home without the Procardia or even a minute of my OB's time. I had waited all day for the perinatologist to consult and ended up never seeing him. He came, looked at my chart and then spoke to my OB. My OB decided to discharge me and went on with his day. I felt ripped off. What about all my questions and concerns? What about the conversation we're supposed to have so that I can be an active part of my treatment? They took those away from me without even giving a thought to how I would feel. It made me think of all the times doctors have handed me admission orders without even so much as glancing beyond the chart to the patient. I always tried my hardest to get them to enter the patient room, forget about numbers, and pay attention to the patient. And now, here I was, on the other end of things...the patient and not the nurse.

The Brain took me home slowly in the car and set me up in bed. I kept track of my contractions until going to sleep. And then when I woke up the next morning, I kept track of my contractions some more. And today, that's what I'm doing again. Very relaxing, and not stressful in the least. The more distracted I am, the better. I was very upset today and I just wanted the Brain to get away from me so that I could relax and slow the contractions. But, she is infuriatingly persistent sometimes in her desire to talk about things when sometimes I just need to be left alone to process my thoughts and feelings.

It's not easy feeling like a burden and the cause of stress to everyone. I'm trying to still enjoy my pregnancy, which is not easy considering that it's become a very physically difficult pregnancy. I'm trying not to ask much of anyone, especially the Brain so that she can focus on school. The moment we were back from the hospital she started to stress about me being home, needing to get me food, medicating the cats, cleaning the litter boxes, emptying the trash. I tried to get her to go to school while we were in the hospital and even had her attend lecture through Skype. Today she got upset because she didn't remember something from last year. That doesn't have anything to do with missing two days of school this week because it wasn't something that she missed learning. Yet, I'm the source of her stress and worry and she's working herself up to the point that I think she's going to be unable to pass. And not because she can't, but because she's dug herself into such a pit of anxiety that she's not capable of getting out of or seeing past.

So while I should be excited to have made it to 31w1 days, I'm not feeling excited at all. I'm just feeling like I'm in the way.

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