Welp. Not exactly what I thought I’d be reporting this week. In fact, in the world of Baby on the Brehm, you’ll notice that as I post this, three days have lapsed since the gauntlet was put down. Which is not my normal M.O. But I needed a couple of days to realize that this is where we are. And to decide to let the world know this bizness. So, I’m making it real {because once it’s on social media, it’s as real as real can be}… I have joined the ranks of the other mommas-to-be who are currently bed-ridden. Mama Brehm is officially on bed rest.
And you know what, we’re doing alright. I mean, I am, anyway. And if my husband is feeling sweat on his brow at all, he’s not showing his hand.
The beautiful gift of bed rest. I’m sure you think I’m being sarcastic. But I’m not. This is my second stint on bed rest. I was put on strict rest with Barrett at 33 weeks. And I thought it was the end of the world. I thought that it was the end of my life as I knew it. And in that world, I suppose, it was.
If I’m being honest, I did not have one thought that I’d be going on bed rest this time. I just didn’t. I avoided it with Jonah. However, this pregnancy has been a little different than that with Jonah. Because my blood pressure has just been persnickety. And persnickety pressures, coupled with slowed growth and low blood flow to the placenta {there was a whole thing about profusion that I won’t go in to} have put a few speed bumps in our path and so, take it easy has now turned into, no driving, no working, no lifting, and mostly laying. And now we have two kiddos to corral. But you know what… turns out the docs don’t care if you have other little nuggets. Because the one in the oven needs some extra lovin’.
Luckily, Adam has taken the reigns. He has basically put mama and baby in the corner {even though nobody puts baby in the corner} and arranged at least two weeks of logistics and planning for the boys. Between grandma and grandpa B, Livi, and grandma and grandpa E, we are looking at almost full-coverage. Which I told him, is a bit excessive. I mean, as I said above, with Barrett, I was on strict rest. And I think that the hubs and I have a little disagreement on what exactly our very chill perinatologist meant when my discharge notes said modified bed rest. Which although specifies no driving, working, lifting, and mostly laying also allows me a shower and the choice to go to the bathroom if I want {not simultaneously}. Or fill my water bottle. And if I need to go up the stairs, I get to. And walk around every so often to keep this lazy bones Beeb movin’ and a groovin’. And I can sit up to take my pressures. So I am calling it modified.
And yeah… I said it was a gift. Because it is. The chance to incubate the Beeb the best that I can, is something I can receive as a gift on this fourth pregnancy. Too rose-colored glasses for you? I have to look at it as a present because we are only 31 weeks in to the cookin’. And it’s earlier than we’d like to deliver the Beeb. And so because the Beeb is still in my belly, I am joyful. And while I realize that managing and loving and devoting myself to two kids, a part-time gig and a household over the next 5-9 weeks, is pretty much not going to happen from the confines of my bedroom, I also know that holding a less than 3 pound peanut in my arms right now would not be a total walk in the park, either.
So we are where we are.
And where are we? Well. After a whole lot of discussion, it was decided at an appointment on Monday that I would receive a double dose of steroids for fetal lung maturation {which were less fun than one might think}, undergo 24 hours of labs, and a non-stress evaluation. After a luxury night stay at St. E’s, we are home. Feet up. Until our next biophysical profile on Friday. And resting… resting… resting… as much as we can.
And just in case there is any question… because I know the advice will be to relax… Just ask my docs, I am as cool as a cuke. As chill as chill can be. An extremely low-pressure, high-pressured mama. And just taking one. day. at. a. time.
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