Normal Again

Today I made my first trip back to Medical City.

It was incredibly weird being back on the other side, walking in to a regular appointment like all the normal pregnant women. For the last two months, any time I was outside of the Antepartum Unit it was blatantly obvious that I was one of the "sick" people. I rode in a wheelchair. I wore hospital bracelets and pajamas. I watched the other people walk around, but I clearly wasn't one of them. Today I was, or at least that's what anyone would have thought looking at me.

The walk from the garage to the office (which is in no way long) was by far the longest I've walked in ten weeks, so by the time we got upstairs I was exhausted and sore. The actual appointment was uneventful and lasted maybe fifteen minutes (which gave me just about enough time to recover for the walk back to the car), and then, unlike the last time I was in that office, I got to walk out! We stopped at Chick-fil-a on the way home to celebrate, and I got to eat fresh, unsoggy french fries for the first time since July. It's such a little thing, but these days things like crisp french fries are hugely exciting.

As of tomorrow Tate will be 35 weeks, and I'll be allowed to move again, at least a little. Judging by today the transition won't be easy. Three hours later I'm still completely exhausted from the brief excursion to the doctor's office, but at least I'll have time to build back a bit of stamina before Tate gets here. Hopefully he'll wait two more weeks...

Home

We're home.

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!