...give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done... isaiah 12:4

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Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Bed Rest.

Early yesterday morning I awoke with more contractions and this time I called my doctor's office and we were instructed to go to the hospital.  Though I was not in real labor (and of course the contractions had slowed by the time I was being monitored), the doctor diagnosed my uterus as an "irritable" one.  Lovely.

In short, I was put on strict bed rest.  My heart sunk at this news.  I knew my body wasn't doing well but all out bed rest?  Like, no-laundry-no-cooking-only-get-up-to-pee kind of bed rest?  At another time, this directive might sound like winning the jackpot but I had already begun to morn the loss of my plans, my to-do list getting done, my clean floors, and most of all, the picture of what my last few weeks alone with Ava would look like.  Granted, I had already self-imposed a great decline in my activity around the house (and almost totally withdrawn from any out of the house activity), but without help there is a certain measure of meal-cooking, laundry carrying and 2-year old bathing, wiping and cleaning up after that is unavoidable.  And apparently still too much for my irritable uterus.

24 hours into said bed rest, I must say it is both hard and a relief.  This is what my body has been craving and needing but it is so difficult to lie on the couch, see a million things that need to be done, and order an already busy husband to go run after Ava for a trip to the bathroom, remind him that the steaming broccoli is overdone and oh yeah, could you get me a snack while you're at it?  That said, I did underestimate how delightful it would be to have nothing better to do than pay attention to my daughter. Though I can't play on the floor, give her a bath, refill her milk cup or go places with her for a few weeks, I didn't foresee how sweet it would be to be so available to just talk with her and snuggle at a moments notice.

Now, while I lay here, I will set my energy toward prayer.  Praying that this little guy makes it at least 3 more weeks in there (if he decides to come earlier we will have to take an ambulance ride to a hospital much farther away that can accommodate pre-term babies).  Praying for no more regular contractions, for the abundance of help we will need around here to be provided, for all of us to stay healthy in the meantime and that I might be able to let go of my desire to DO and just rest.