Hotel Momma
I've been on some serious bed rest in the hospital. My left arm is tethered to an IV pole that gives me antibiotics, magnesium sulfate to ward off labor, and fluids. My right side is wired to a fetal monitor that tracks baby's heart rate and uterine contractions. I have about a two-foot reach from bed, so everything has to come to me.
Last night the kids came to visit. They think the hospital is "fun" because I have a bed that moves up and down at the touch of a button, a TV that has Cartoon Network, and food brought to me on a tray in bed. Phoebe rubbed my feet, made me a card with a caterpillar on it, and fed me chocolates. Bruce watched Cartoon Network and asked a few serious questions about the baby. He knows what's going on and looked a little scared.
I'm sooooo glad my mom is here taking care of the kids; it gives me much-needed peace of mind knowing that they can hang onto some shred of normalcy while I'm not there. She knows her way around our neighborhood, knows their quirks and routines, and seems to genuinely enjoy filling the need. She took the kids out for Dunkin Donuts on her first day here, so I can only imagine the spoiling that will go on over the next few weeks.
As she focuses on Bruce and Phoebe, I'm focused on keeping this baby in as long as possible. I am reminded that mothers will do anything for their kids. I've grown a double chin, endured painful steroid shots in my thighs, laid in bed and watched 70-degree sunny weather from a window, all in the name of getting this baby here.
And so when I see my mom drop everything at home (and have I mentioned she is a busy lady?!) and catch the next flight to Boston simply because I called, I get it. But I still don't know how to ever repay that - except maybe to do the same for her grandchildren.
Mom, I'm turning into you. And I love it.
Last night the kids came to visit. They think the hospital is "fun" because I have a bed that moves up and down at the touch of a button, a TV that has Cartoon Network, and food brought to me on a tray in bed. Phoebe rubbed my feet, made me a card with a caterpillar on it, and fed me chocolates. Bruce watched Cartoon Network and asked a few serious questions about the baby. He knows what's going on and looked a little scared.
I'm sooooo glad my mom is here taking care of the kids; it gives me much-needed peace of mind knowing that they can hang onto some shred of normalcy while I'm not there. She knows her way around our neighborhood, knows their quirks and routines, and seems to genuinely enjoy filling the need. She took the kids out for Dunkin Donuts on her first day here, so I can only imagine the spoiling that will go on over the next few weeks.
As she focuses on Bruce and Phoebe, I'm focused on keeping this baby in as long as possible. I am reminded that mothers will do anything for their kids. I've grown a double chin, endured painful steroid shots in my thighs, laid in bed and watched 70-degree sunny weather from a window, all in the name of getting this baby here.
And so when I see my mom drop everything at home (and have I mentioned she is a busy lady?!) and catch the next flight to Boston simply because I called, I get it. But I still don't know how to ever repay that - except maybe to do the same for her grandchildren.
Mom, I'm turning into you. And I love it.