Fifty weeks. That’s how many weeks I spent on full bed rest. I could take a shower every other day, and get up to us the restroom, and go to weekly Doctors appointments. And it worked…I have two perfectly healthy little girls. I want another baby. I feel selfish. Twice I have been blessed to remain pregnant and deliver babies fairly close to the end of the pregnancy terms. Twice my family and friends have circled my family in arms of love and support. I feel like I should be satisfied, I have a wonderful, beautiful family.
Bed Rest is awful. Anyone who has ever had to do it knows the struggle. It is scary. You spend days in prayer, making deals with God to ensure the safety of your baby. You are often alone, left to watch day time tv and read. Life goes on outside of your house or hospital room. Your spouse or partner goes to work everyday. Your friends stop by with food and movies, they might give you foot massages (an especially hard treat for me to accept) or offer to do laundry.
Bed rest is humbling. Able body people usually don’t enjoy the idea of laying around for weeks, months on end. Even having your Mom cleaning and cooking for you can be hard to except. It challenges marriages, it is really hard on existing children. Mommy not being able to be herself, your wife not being able to contribute to the household, it wears on a family.
Yet still, my desire for another child is strong. I love being pregnant. I love the morning sickness, I love the feeling of the baby moving, I love my ever growing stomach. My husband thinks I’m crazy, my insurance company questions my mental stability, and my Doctor is totally behind me if I agree to lay down at 10 weeks.
When I think of my last two pregnancies I could cry. Cry for the sadness, the guilt, the love that was shown to me, even the shame of not being able to have a healthy pregnancy. I’m not complaining. I would be on bed rest for years if it insured the health of my children. And I thank God daily that I was even able to have a pregnancy, and deliver healthy babies. I cannot imagine the pain of miscarrying or not being able to conceive. I would not trade my incompetent cervix for anything.
In my head I know the incredible burden of a hard pregnancy. I know the scary feelings, the thoughts that haunt every waking hour, the silent prayers for one more week. In my heart I envy new Mothers, their babies at their breast. I almost cannot bear to hold a new little one, the urge to have one of my own so strong.
Those of you who have seen the horrors of bed rest know all the private, shameful feelings that women experience. The thoughts of not being good enough, healthy enough, right enough to safely carry a baby. You know the fear of reading about the child, cozy in your wombs chances of living if delivered during any time of your pregnancy. You live for the weekly or bi-weekly ultrasounds to see their development, their hearts getting stronger. You have taken weekly tests to determine if your baby may come this week, only to take strong steroid shots to help their vital organs develop. You have taken drugs to prolong your pregnancy and to stop contractions.
Your family; in my case my Mom and Dad have stepped up and filled in. They cleaned the house, they grocery shopped, they drove me to Doctor’s appointments. With my second pregnancy they helped to parent my oldest daughter. My Mom was at our home from morning till night, anytime my Husband wasn’t home my Mom was there. They were amazing and I would be expecting them to do the same again, only this time for two children with soccer and dance lessons and school.
My friends were lovely. I have to say it was much easier the second time to accept their kindness, their love and generosity. The first pregnancy, I was embarrassed. All I could do was lay on the couch, helplessly directing them around my kitchen or laundry room. The second time was a bit easier. At first it felt awkward to have them digging through my cupboards. But when I stopped being so stoic, when I realized they were feeling helpless too, that this gave them hope and control in a scary situation, then I was able to accept their kindness.
One friend made delicious salads, and always brought enough for dinner. Another brought everything she would need to give me full pedicures so my feet would be pretty for exams. Some just came with favorite childhood candy and 80′s movies. Some just came and laughed and cried with me, many couldn’t come but prayed for us. Is it fair to do this again to them? To all the people who love my family?
Bed rest stinks! If your on bed rest, I’m truly sorry. Please, please follow your Doctor’s orders. They will do everything in their power to help ensure a healthy baby. Which after all is the end goal. Allow yourself time to grieve. I gave myself 12 hours after bad or scary news. I could cry, shout, scream. Sometimes I would watch Jerry Springer (Awful I know, but it made me feel better about my life.) other times I would write letters to my baby. After twelve hours I had to shake it off, had to be positive. I had to do my part to make sure that my baby new I believed in it, in God, in this pregnancy.
I’ll wait, I’ll give myself a few months to make sure these baby urges aren’t a passing fancy. I will seek council. I will pray over it. I’ll include my Husband in this discussion…I guess he has a pretty big say in it. But mostly, I’ll focus on the blessings I have.
