Highlights/Lowlights of Hospital Stay So Far...

Well, the good news is, it appears that for the moment, Rigby has reconsidered his exit strategy.  Personally, I believe this is because now he is under more intense scrutiny, and is constantly being bombarded by ultra-sound check ups.  I can tell he resents these, as he squirms and tries to move away from the waves of sound bombarding him, likely making it difficult for him to plan future break-out plans with any regularity. This is a good thing, and it makes me glad.  It does, however, come with some baggage that is NOT as exciting.  Which brings us to the Highlights and Lowlights of this hospital stay so far:

Highlight: Rigby seems to be staying put for now.  Though I could still go into labor any time in the next 9 days, each day I don't makes it a little more likely he will make it to the 12th. This is great, because every day he stays where he is, he will spend two less days in NICU when he does show up. 

Lowlight: Since Rigby's staying put, I am too.  Don't get me wrong; I INFINITELY prefer him cooking for as long as possible.  But no one in their right mind would voluntarily spend nine days in the hospital, for the food alone.  It's not that it's BAD.  It's that it's all the same.  It reminds me of school lunches as a kid, where you recognize that the rolls/salad/sides that didn't get used the day before make a return appearance the next day.  Breakfast is particularly mournful.  How many times can one re-hydrate potatoes before they CEASE to be potatoes?

Highlight: The call button makes me feel like God.  It glows at me on the side of my bed, and any time I have the slightest whim, I get to push it and make the nurses/CNA's come running at my beck and call.  For the first 24 hours, I felt like I was directing my minions, and I think the power definitely went to my head.  I did not, however, anticipate the subtle uprising my minions would engage in.

Lowlight: The call button works both ways.  Yes, it brings the staff scurrying.  But when they come, now they come with EXTRA things.  Wearing a smiling face, they'll hand me an extra pill and say "you looked like you could use a stool softener."  Um... gross.  YOU look like you could use a stool softener.  Also, some bossy person at the front desk can page ME in my bed and tell me to clear off my bedside table because another lovely hospital meal is evident.  Firstly, I don't think I WANT to know when a load more of hospital food is heading my way.  It actually makes me less hungry, not more. Secondly, I never liked being told by my mother to clean my room as a child.  Displaying the stubbornness apparently passed down to my little one, I would deliberately NOT clean my room for longer to make my point.  This is less effective with disembodied-voice lady, because SHE never sees if I blatantly disobey her.  The poor cafeteria staff have to deal with my civil disobedience.  And you can tell they already probably feel bad enough about bringing the food. It is a conundrum, indeed.

Highlight: (or what I thought would be a highlight) Bedrest.  While I was still working over 40 hours a week, I really believed bedrest sounded tempting.  And the first day, when I got to cat nap several times without feeling an impending sense of panic that I really should be doing something else, it was kind of nice. 

Lowlight: Bedrest.  I know better now.  Firstly, there is no continuous sleep.  There are only uncomfortable cat naps.  Secondly, there's a spot in the middle of my back that hurts no matter what position I try to sit/lie in.  Thirdly, the scenery never changes.  And lastly, I am stuck here; every body I love is not.  They have their own lives that need tending to, and can't simply stop everything to sit in this tiny room with me and help me stare at the walls.  Even James.  Poor guy, after two nights sleeping on the "couch" in my room curled up in the fetal position, I sent him home last night to get a real night's sleep.  He's been such a trooper.  After going home last night, he offered more than once to come back and spend the night with me instead.  And I know he would have done it.  But there's no reason for BOTH of us not to sleep and slowly lose our sanity.  They come in and check my vitals every four hours, which necessitates waking James up, too, for no good reason.  I think I should earn MAJOR good wife points for selflessly sending him home to our lovely, king-sized bed, which I am hopeful will translate into illicit treats he brings me from the "outside" when he returns.

So, there you have it.  What's been on my mind for the last couple hours as I could not get back to sleep.  Feel free to interrupt the monotony as often as you'd like; I promise I won't mind!