38 weeks!

Well, it's been a while since I last updated. Although my life currently very predictable and extremely boring, there is MUCH to update. I have spent the past couple of months on bed rest. After a lot of swelling, and ever more warnings from my doctor and nurse practicioner, I finally got the hang of sitting on my ass and doing absolutely nothing but flicking the channels all day long. However, eventually, that just wasn't enough. As time went on, my situation before evidently more complicated. The doctor started giving me concerned looks and sending me for tests, and bloodwork on a regular basis. She started seeing me twice a week in her office, and eventually, the first week of March, she had me admitted for 3 days to have more testing done. I was switched over to an ob/gym, as she felt she could no longer manage my pregnancy on her own. I had gained a huge amount of weight in a very short period of time, and my feet were extemely swollen. I kept telling myself I was doing everything I could to keep the weight gain down. I was only eating when I was hungry, and even then sometimes I would try to hold off on eating until I reaaally couldn't handle it. The doctor kept telling me that she couldnt see where I was doing anything wrong. So when I got admitted, it become fairly clear that I had something else going on. After an ultrasound it was also determined that my little baby boy is in fact breech. The doctor informed me that there is was little to no chance of him changing positions before his due date, and that I should prepare myself for the extreme likelihood of having a c-section. Since I have never experienced any form of child birth, I have no preference, and this did not truly upset me. It just made things fairly black and white. After three days in the hospital, I was released with the understanding that I would most likely be in and out of the hospital right up until my due date, and that I would not be keeping my original due date. I went home and did my best to sit around and do nothing, no easy task for me. I did a fairly good job, and had to continue going for a check up and monitoring every second day at the hospital. However, a week later, I arrived for monitoring, and after spending 4 hours waiting for my check up, my doctor came out with my chart and said I would have to stay. I had gained 8 pounds of fluid in just 2 days, and my feet were purple. I was upset, but not extremely surprised as I could feel a lot of pressure in not only my feet, but also my legs. So here I sit, 16 days after my last check in to the hospital, still no baby, having gained another 14 pounds.
In fact, since I moved back to Nova Scotia on June 26th, 2012, I have gained 100 pounds. During my pregnancy, I have gained an estimated 95 pounds. The doctor joked about setting some sort of record, I laughed along with him (while dying a little on the inside). Truth be told, it's the  most frustrating situation I have ever experienced. A year ago, I was doing the Jillian Michaels 30 Day Shred, measuring my food portions, eating clean, counting calories, jogging 4-5 times a week, and putting in two days a week of just weight training at the local gym. My legs were becoming toned and even muscular, and my confidence was glowing. Now, every shirt I own has a food or toothpaste stain on it, and my wardrobe consists of pajama pants and maternity leggings. I dont wear socks anymore, and the highlight of my day is when I get to walk to the scale to see how much weight I have gained. I stare at the same ugly pink walls and beige curtains, and when Im really bored, I turn on the pathetic 13 inch tv suspended from the ceiling to see if there is anything remotely entertaining on it. I've been told many things concerning the arrival of my baby boy, but for now the only thing I am considering is that I have been promised that he will be delivered on or before April 10th, via c-section. At this point, I am exhausted, homesick, emotional, fat, swollen, lacking confidence, and generally lonely most of the time. Thank goodness for my ever tolerate and accomodating fiancé, because without him, I think I would be sitting in a rocking chair somewhere, rocking myself back and forth and having a conversation with an inanimate object. To any other woman who has ever gone through bed rest in the hospital, I am sure you can relate. In fact, if you can't, please go get your head checked, because you are either Suzy effing Sunshine, or you are deranged. Frankly, it sucks! Hospital food is disgusting. They actually toast your toast three provinces away, freeze it and then ship it in, defrost it here and serve it to you on a plate with a cover on it. What the hell? But since toast alone is not filling enough, they also serve you a nice steaming scoop of the slop otherwise known as oatmeal. Filling, no? Don't forget the pasteuried orange 'juice'. Which is about 85% sugar and water and 15% orange. Talk about a balanced meal. Lunch is the biggest meal of the day, and usually involves some sort of frozen vegetable, and fake potato balls, and a piece of meat the size of a cup. Supper is a sandwich, and if you're lucky you get a few spoonfuls of soup that you should probably soak your sandwich in before trying to eat it. Especially if you don't want to choke from how dry the sandwich actually is. You might think I'm exagerrating, but in fact, I'm sparing you all the depressing details. On the plus side, my nails are now extremely strong from all of this wonderful hospital jello I've been eating. Believe it or not, the jello is actually the best thing they serve you.
One awkward part of being the woman in the maternity ward who is not in labour, and also has not yet give birth is that you kind of don't fit into a certain category. There is just a room for you, right beside the birthing rooms, where you stay, and literally get the pleasure of listening to women give birth on a daily basis, sometimes multiple times per day. Now don't get me wrong, it's amazing, but it's also very disturbing to be eating your lunch and listening to the poor woman next to you push with all her might. At time becoming very vocal when it comes to her pain. Since I'm not actually permitted to go anywhere, except for the bathroom in my room, I am forced to sit and listen to this process and not consider that this could have been me, had my baby not stubbornly decided to camp out feet-first. I'll remember to thank him for this when he's older. Another somewhat annoying aspect of spending time in the hospital is that you cant sleep in. They have you on a very strict schedule each morning. Breakfast arrives at 8:15 every morning, and the nurse arrives to weight you, collected a urine sample and check your pressure, and in my case, give me my pressure medication. After you scarf down your delicious meal they want to put you on the monitor to do the non-stress test. This is sort of awkward and invasive, since they strap two belts around you and bare your belly to the world. But thankfully it only lasts about 20 minutes, and the goodness is that if you didn't need to pee before the test, you'll most definitely need to pee afterwards! I swear it triggers your bladder to empty! After the stress test, I usually get a visit from my family doctor, and then a visit from my ob/gyn. Both of them usually tell me the same thing, 'hang in there' or 'not long now!'. I smile and nod in agreement, and then usually have a meltdown after they leave. Regular pregnancy hormones are more difficult to manage when you are stuck in a hospital bed with absolutely no privacy.
Fortunately for me, Bobby usually arrives while I'm being monitored each morning, and brings me what I consider to be my real breakfast, or at least something to fill my ever expanding belly. He has sat through almost the entire series of Gilmore Girls in the past month, and I dare say he even enjoys watching it! He waits on me hand and foot, and sits here in silence with me when I don't feel like talking, not also don't want to be alone. On the two occassions that I've been allowed to go home, he has also waited on me hand and foot there, and prepared me delicious meals. For a guy who didn't know how to cook and lived with his mother up until last year, he sure is domesticated! I'm also hoping he is rather understanding when he gets my next cellphone bill, because somethign tells me that I am going way over my data allowance this month!
So, I probably haven't painted a very appealing picture, but I'll end by saying that even though this is a very difficult time, I know that in the end, when I finally get to hold me baby boy, it will all have been worth it, and hopefully I'll forget all about the time spent here, waiting for him.