I thought that if we finally got to this day I'd have lots to say, but as I've laid here all afternoon, not much has come to mind. We are obviously incredibly thankful that this day even came. When I look back at old posts and think about all the stress of the month of August, I sort of feel like a drama queen, but the fact of the matter is, I wasn't creating drama. All those risks were real. For MANY weeks, even well into September, everyone was nervously waiting for the day that the treatments would stop working and we'd be transferred back to labor and delivery, not the day I'd be discharged. It's only been in the last week or two that things really settled down and everyone started seriously discussing the possibility of going home... and now we're here.
The first day home has been relatively uneventful, spent primarily laying on the sofa while Kevin works on things without me and Maggie watches anxiously to make sure I don't leave again. Aside from location, my job hasn't changed. I'm still on strict bedrest, still taking the nasty meds to keep contractions at bay. In another week I'll be allowed a little more freedom (and already asked for permission to go get my hair cut), but anything that requires much walking or standing will still be off limits. Getting to go home was a big step, but the next few weeks will still be challenging... in some ways more than before. It wasn't so hard being compliant at the hospital most of the time, but it's much more difficult now that I'm so much closer to freedom.
At any rate, Tate is still doing great. He's growing just like he should, and the latest guess at his weight is 5 1/2 pounds. He wouldn't let the doctor get a good look at his face today, and since we're officially done with the weekly high-risk appointments, it's likely we won't get to see him again until we see him in person. Only a few more weeks to go!