Walter is much, much better. His hives are all cleared up, the pink eye is gone, and he's not coughing anymore. He's all done with all four medicines. We were able to stop the Benadryl on Sunday, and it was amazing the to see the immediate change (for the better) in his demeanor. We got our sweet Walter back. AND, best of all: no ear infections. Tubes doing what tubes should do. What a relief!
Sean and Umma both caught Walter's bug and have been getting steadily sicker as the week goes on. Bad cough, swollen throat, very tired. No pink eye or hives (thankfully.) But prayers for healing are welcome. No pressure, but these two have to be healthy by Wednesday or I'm going to be very lonely in that operating room.
I think Wednesday is going to be the day. I have no idea if I'm progressing toward labor or not--Dr. M. doesn't do cervical exams for patients with planned c-sections because they sometimes hasten labor. So I could be all dilated and effaced and what-have-you and not even aware of it, but I don't feel like labor is immanent. I keep reminding myself that the delivery on Wednesday will be bringing Sally into the world a week early, based on her due date. So, I'm hopeful that Baba will be able to come home from the churchwide assembly, Umma and Sean will have a few days to get better, and we'll all have Tuesday together to get last minute preparations done for Sally's arrival.
On Tuesday night, the blue moon will rise. By the light of that astronomical oddity, we'll head to the hospital around 4 am or so on Wednesday, and by 8:00 am, we'll have a baby.
Maybe. Again, it's weird to have this scheduled out. I love schedules. But I'm trying not to count my blue moon chickens before they hatch (whatever that means.)
My own health is mostly good. It seems like my super immune system is successfully fighting off the household virus (being able to get tons of sleep and fluids and not being over worked and exhausted to begin with is probably helping with that, too.) I'm very uncomfortable but able to sleep, at night and whenever I feel like it during the day, which is a huge blessing and feels like the best preparation for Sally's arrival that I could be doing right now.
I very much expected that, after a day or so of bedrest, my hemorrhoids and everything else would get completely better and I'd feel terrible about leaving work a week early. Yet another example of mistaken expectations on my part. It turns out that the pressure of the baby alone, without any help from me standing up or even sitting down (rather than lying down,) is enough to keep everything bad and, in fact, make it worse.
I'd decided not to worry about the bleeding hemorrhoids, so I was surprised when Nurse B. and Dr. M. were both worried about them. Evidently, having something bleeding like that when you go into surgery isn't a great idea. But there's nothing we can do, not until the pressure lifts and Sally is born. So, they tested me for anemia (I am nowhere near anemic) and Dr. M. said that following up on the hemorrhoids will be important after the surgery--hopefully, they'll go away as soon as the pressure is off, but if they don't, another surgery will be needed.
I'm still not worried. But even I am getting grossed out by the situation. Hemorrhoids, hemorrhoids, hemorrhoids. Ick.
Sally is still measuring great, with a nice strong heartbeat and good levels of movement. I'm very attentive to her movements, these days. They are balm to my over-anxious soul. I dreamed about her all last night ... I dreamed that she was born the size of a six-year-old, with a full set of teeth. Terrifying, but I was pleased to note that she had my nose.
Hank the Dog seems to be doing fairly well, although his soul is a bit over-anxious, too. He camps out on the couch and keeps an eye on me all day. We've been having work done on our basement (yes, the timing could be better. merp.) and barking every time the workers open or close the front door has kept him quite busy.
It's been quite a week!
Maybe. Again, it's weird to have this scheduled out. I love schedules. But I'm trying not to count my blue moon chickens before they hatch (whatever that means.)
My own health is mostly good. It seems like my super immune system is successfully fighting off the household virus (being able to get tons of sleep and fluids and not being over worked and exhausted to begin with is probably helping with that, too.) I'm very uncomfortable but able to sleep, at night and whenever I feel like it during the day, which is a huge blessing and feels like the best preparation for Sally's arrival that I could be doing right now.
I very much expected that, after a day or so of bedrest, my hemorrhoids and everything else would get completely better and I'd feel terrible about leaving work a week early. Yet another example of mistaken expectations on my part. It turns out that the pressure of the baby alone, without any help from me standing up or even sitting down (rather than lying down,) is enough to keep everything bad and, in fact, make it worse.
I'd decided not to worry about the bleeding hemorrhoids, so I was surprised when Nurse B. and Dr. M. were both worried about them. Evidently, having something bleeding like that when you go into surgery isn't a great idea. But there's nothing we can do, not until the pressure lifts and Sally is born. So, they tested me for anemia (I am nowhere near anemic) and Dr. M. said that following up on the hemorrhoids will be important after the surgery--hopefully, they'll go away as soon as the pressure is off, but if they don't, another surgery will be needed.
I'm still not worried. But even I am getting grossed out by the situation. Hemorrhoids, hemorrhoids, hemorrhoids. Ick.
Sally is still measuring great, with a nice strong heartbeat and good levels of movement. I'm very attentive to her movements, these days. They are balm to my over-anxious soul. I dreamed about her all last night ... I dreamed that she was born the size of a six-year-old, with a full set of teeth. Terrifying, but I was pleased to note that she had my nose.
Hank the Dog seems to be doing fairly well, although his soul is a bit over-anxious, too. He camps out on the couch and keeps an eye on me all day. We've been having work done on our basement (yes, the timing could be better. merp.) and barking every time the workers open or close the front door has kept him quite busy.
It's been quite a week!
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