Toulouse and Tonic

Hanging in there on the 5th full day.

Bed rest: Day 5.

It’s a mind game.

If you think beyond the day ahead, you will lose your shit.

Sometimes my mind starts to drift towards the day after tomorrow, or next week, or next month.

Or March.

And I feel panic rising rapidly.

Much like the water in a clogged toilet.

Exactly like that.

But then I squash it.

Because it’s counterproductive to freak yourself out. Or let yourself be freaked out.

To put it mildly.

It’s been 5 days. And counting.

That’s (hopefully) a drop in the bucket.

I may lose it for few seconds here and there.

But I’ll get it back.

Bed rest is a mind game.

And I’m gonna be a badass at this game.

This is my view. It's multidimensional. If you like roofs.

Asher's favorite activity in my hospital room. At least he has good hygiene.

Where Asher thinks Gabe's "stinky" shoe can best air out.

Asher's self-portrait using ipad's photo booth.

A picture Asher took of his dinosaur humping his backpack in my hospital room. Because I have nothing better to show you.

This past Sunday, something really, really, very unexpected happened.

My water broke. At only 27 weeks.

When I realized something was going on, there was the rush to the emergency room and pretty quickly the realization that I was not going back home any time soon.

Then the focus became just making sure the baby stays where he is for as long as he can.

So far, so good.

This is my 4th full day of bed rest with no contractions and no signs of infection.

So we’re hoping, best case scenario, to get this baby to at least 34 weeks before he comes out.

Which means at least 6 weeks of hospital bed rest for me.

Something I never contemplated.

Ever, ever, ever, ever, ever.

That when I left my house in a panic on Sunday afternoon, I would not be coming back for up to 2 months.

That I would not smell fresh air for that long.

That I would not pick my kid up from school.

Or see my dogs.

Or, say…walk around.

I am required to sit on my ass in this hospital bed all day, and all night, only getting up to go to the bathroom.

I can feel it spreading as we speak.

My ass, that is.

But we are lucky.

The baby is holding his own, the amniotic leak has slowed, my mother-in-law has dropped everything to come here and take care of Asher, and my husband is the most amazing juggler in the world.

So I am the least of my concerns.

I just have to take it one day at a time.

So herein begins: Bed Rest. The series.

Consider this the pilot episode.

I sure hope they get funnier.