Any mother who has had to be on bedrest will appreciate how hard bedrest really is. It is boring, oh so boring, and invites an idle mind to worry like crazy. I read, watched television until my brain was rotting. I talked to my wonderful friends on the phone and greeted each morning with a thankful heart. My baby was safe and I could feel him kicking me all the time. A funny side note...when they did an ultrasound, it showed my son literally bouncing and kicking my bladder...that sure explained alot about how I felt so much pressure!
As the days went on, I felt more at ease and able to really enjoy the miracle that was my son. I felt sure everything was going to be fine. We just needed to get through the waiting. We were now at 22 1/2 weeks!!! Four more weeks for my son to have a fighting chance. At that time they would give me large doses of steriods to mature his lungs as much as possible. My sis in law, who was very supportive, asked me once if I was afraid of the steriods and I told her no. Only my son was important at the moment. I would have done anything for him, just to give him a chance to live the life he was destined for! In fact I oftened prayed that if one of us had to go to please take me and not him....I am sure the same prayer all mothers with emperiled pregnancies has.
Late that week I started to have some sharpish pains in my lower abdomen. When it did not subside I thought we should go to our small local hospital to just get checked out. My husband helped me to the car and off we went. I just was not willing to take a chance.
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