at home: the day before the next visit

There's a slightly ominous feel in the air today. It's Thursday. I've successfully made it at home so far, but I cannot help but already feel the rug being pulled out from under me a bit when I think about my appointment tomorrow morning. I'll have a non-stress test (back on the monitors), a bp check, and I am sure they will be asking for a sample to check the protein situation. I've been spending a great deal of time at home attached to my blood pressure cuff, desensitizing myself to the ripping velcro sound and trying to find some strategy that will allow me to relax while my arm is constricted. So far I've tried singing a holiday carol in my head, imagining my sweet little girl's face (DISASTER! All I did was think that I might not see it first thing in the morning!), and really Steve's good ol' "in through the nose, out through the mouth zoning out" method is the best one. I've been able to acheive pretty good pressures this way and I am hoping that will continue today. Never one to do the bare minimum, my required 4 pressures a day topped out near 10 measurements yesterday. I figure they'll average out better and hopefully I'll look like an overacheiver and not completely paranoid.

I suppose it is also good news that I was back to my nightly up at 4 staring at the ceiling schedule. It means I am well-rested again and after the night of sleep I had (if you can even call it that) in the active labor side of the floor, that is a very good thing. The only downside is that I was up...for 90 minutes...thinking. What if they don't let me go home? What if they do? What about the cookie dough I made over the weekend to bake and decorate with Caroline on Monday? Is it still good? Should I just call it a total wash and forget about how much fun the holiday cookie decorating would have been? and what about the pizza dough in the fridge since Sunday? Can we have pizza tonight? Mental list started for Target and BJ run. List of tiny tasks to do today started to be spread out throughout the day; packing Caroline and myself up for the weekend. Officially packing up that Hospital Bag. Selecting a newborn sized outfit to put in said bag.

Did I mention I may have named our son yesterday? I was sitting there counting little kicks - supposed to get three every 30 or 6 every hour. Four minutes into counting I usually have all three kicks I need making my handy iPhone tally counter pretty useless. He's an active little guy and it would be completely obvious to me if his movement decreased, but yet I keep my kickcounts, being as compliant with the rules put upon me to remain at home as I possibly can be. In the afternoon after lunch (caprese salad and soup) he kicked me something fierce and I jumped, looked down at the little elbow or foot sticking out of my side and said to the baby inside, "buddy, you really need a name!" I thought on it, there was some hesitation to push forward and actually pick one of our beloved three over the rest, but when Steve got home I surprised him with the news that I had picked my choice for this baby's name. "ok." I think he is stunned that I made up my mind.

NOW - just because we have named you little one, don't get any ideas that this means we desperately want to meet you or anything. Stay put. Grow nice and strong. Keep those kicks coming and don't do anything to freak your mother out too much.


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