Chronicles from House Arrest

Originally posted on my Tumblr Blog on Nov 23, 2010 12:12pm

I stirred in our very comfortable Cal king-sized bed, slowly kicking my feet in between layers of pillows I had arranged under my bottom last night. It is warm and soft under the covers and I feel the cool breeze from the fan we keep on to help me sleep at night. My eyes slowly flutter open and I try to clear them as I check the time on the cable box underneath the TV across the room: It’s 8:35 a.m. Imagining the dread I would normally have of being at work today by this time, I am in no rush as I get out of bed, use the potty, wash my face, and brush my teeth. Lazily, I put on a sweatshirt, head downstairs, plop myself on the couch, and contemplate all the activities I have tried to plan out for myself today until my husband gets home late this evening. I turn on the TV and peruse through hundreds of channels, finding nothing to watch, but just settle on the Rachael Ray show (which I have never seen, as I can’t stand its host), only because Paula Deen (my favorite) is a guest today. Within minutes, I change the channel and submit myself to another entire day of THIS.

Day 4 of bed rest. I know the required is only 3, but John and I are not taking any chances. I must admit that a huge part of me would like to have gone back to work today, as we have dubbed this time “Budget Season” — Homeowners Associations’ assessment budgets are normally sent out in the month of November, and as I had come to experience the past two years being there, it is a crazy and hectic time. Sending out budgets is a large project, and this is my second year (of the three I’d been there) heading up the task. However, due to all my appointments and bed rest days, I have been absent for most of it, having left the rest of the project to my equally-capable though not as meticulous (or let’s face it, not as knowledgeable in the process) co-workers. We are a small office, but a well-oiled machine, and each person’s presence is integral in making the machine work. Call it arrogance, but being the owners’ right-hand person, I am a little worried that although the job may be getting done, it may not be getting done as efficiently as I would like, or as THEY would like. 

Day 1 of bedrest was this Saturday, the 20th. We came from PRC and directly to bed. John had me set up with pillows, my laptop, and books. We ordered lunch, ate in bed (we are NOT fans of eating in the bedroom), and he played video games and I read magazines. I was not allowed to take a shower, but by the end of that day, I could not stand being dirty so I snuck my head under the faucet and shampooed right before John gave me a sponge bath. I was only allowed to go to the potty and straight back to bed, and needless to say, the normally adorable chalk blue walls of our bedroom were slowly starting to take their toll on me. John was also nice enough to make us a delicious pasta casserole and was so patient in bringing all our meals and everything I needed to our bedroom on a red tray I had purchased a couple of months back. 

Day 2 of bedrest was Sunday, the 21st. I woke up at 7:45 a.m. already dreading the day ahead. John and I stayed in bed for a while until he got up to take a shower and get out of his PJ’s to pick up some lunch for us. I was so envious that he could shower, and even more frustrated that I felt fine, but had to stay in bed anyway. After a very big lunch, I fell asleep for a couple of hours. The window was open and the cold fall air came into the room, but evidently I was experiencing hot flashes because I still had him turn on the fan. The room became so cold that he left during my nap and went downstairs to warm up. I woke up at around 4:30 p.m., went to the potty, and sullenly went back to bed. I tweeted something about being a prisoner in my own home and my little brother, Ryan, was sending me tweets to cheer me up. A few moments later, John came upstairs and told me he would let me come downstairs because he felt bad for me. As soon as he said that, I just started crying. I cried for a while as he let me sit on the couch just because I was so happy to be let out of my “prison” upstairs. I hadn’t been downstairs in over 32 hours, and was beyond happy to get the change of scenery. After a few hours of TV downstairs, I washed my hair under the sink again, did my sponge bath and we went to bed.

Day 3, Monday, the 22nd. This day was one that I had dreaded in particular because John would be going back to work and I would be all by my lonesome self. Luckily, I had a few things to look forward to, namely being able to be downstairs and also being able to finally shower in the evening. I spent most of the day in front of the TV and re-reading the 7th Harry Potter book. I had slowly accumulated a pile of items around the area of the couch where I was lying down: books, magazines, water bottles, etc. I felt like a hoarder. Early in the afternoon, I was texting with one of my girlfriends in San Diego and invited her over. Thank goodness that her schedule was free and later in the afternoon, she came over with her dog and sat with me to keep me company for a while until John came home. When I was finally able to take a (lukewarm, not hot) shower, really scrub my body, and shave my legs, I felt almost 10 pounds lighter. Last night’s craving was eggs sunny side up on white rice with ketchup. It felt almost like a normal evening with me and John. 

I am now just trying to survive the rest of the week without pulling my hair out. I’m finding myself talking to “the girls” when I go potty, telling them to stay inside and stay strong so we can see them in 9 months. (Not that they can “slip” out, as they are planted deep within my uterus, but for some reason I am just afraid they’re gonna see this opening and want to come out) I remind myself of the magic that is happening right now inside me, reading article upon article online about what happens to the embryo at this point of the “pregnancy” (pregnancy is in airquotes only because of course we are still not sure of it yet). I wish I could be inside there and cheer the girls on as their cells divide and they keep growing.

For now, I am creating a mental list of things I would like to do as soon as I am able to go outside: get my hair done, my eyebrows waxed, do some shopping, and generally just breathe fresh air. Most of all I am looking forward to being back at work and feeling productive again. On top of all that, my pregnancy tests are coming up on Monday and Wednesday next week. After months of waiting, our answers are less than a week away. 


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