713 days

is two years and a day.

Two years and a day ago Britney shaved her head.

Two years and a day ago Sloan was hungover and I was pissed off at him.

Two years and a day ago I went into labor with Henry and was admitted to the hospital for the bedrest that started this blog.


One year and 5 days ago, I was struggling to understand God's grace to us in Henry's life and his grace to another family who was grieving the loss of a child.

2 days ago, I signed up to take a meal to that same family to help them celebrate the birth of their child.

Who knows where He'll take me in another 713 days.

A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

One of Sloan and my favorite songs is Bob Dylan's "A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall" and it has been a hard rain kind of falling week for me. Sadness mixed with poetry mixed with hope. Just full of those things that haunt you. Mainly it has been a week to reflect on the mercy of God, His goodness to our family, and the seeming randomness of it all. In a nutshell, the complexity of God's grace.

It was about a year ago this week (February 16th, to be exact) that we went to the doctor's expecting a routine ultrasound only to find out that I was in labor, 4 cm dialated, and would be admitted to the hospital. I was 23 weeks pregnant and so full of fear. I remember asking my friend Joe to pray for God's will to be done, because that just wasn't something I could do. If it was God's will to take Henry home, that I wanted no part of it. I wanted my way, my son, my life back. That was my heart that first day.

The next day, no less fearful, but I suppose more composed our pastor came to see us. Teary eyed, I remember telling him that the night before, for some unknown reason, all I could do was say over and over in my head the first question and answer to the Heidelburg cathechism (thank God for Seminary classes forcing me to memorize it). Question: What is your only comfort, in life and in death? Answer: That I belong--body and soul, in life and in death--not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ, who at the cost of his own blood has fully paid for all my sins and has completely freed me from the dominion of the devil; that he protects me so well that without the will of of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head; indeed, that everything must fit his purpose for my salvation. Therefore, by his Holy Spirit, he also assures me of eternal life, and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him. (The simple fact that I remembered this at all is truly a work of the Holy Spirit as I've always been a day before the exam crammer!)

But over and over I couldn't shake the truth of this--that no matter what may happen--I belong to Christ and nothing, not even the loss of a child, can shake that. And that led to me realizing that because of God's promises to me, Henry, although too small even to be born yet, was God's too. That Henry's only comfort in life and death was, would be, and is that he belongs body and soul to Jesus Christ. And then I knew that to hold onto something that tightly, even the very life of your child, is harmful. Not because life isn't precious or a miracle, but because it is a gift. No--not even a gift--a loan. Henry doesn't and has never belonged to me. I've never belonged to my family, my husband. We're on loan and at some point in time, we will return home.

So I asked our pastor, Steve, to pray that I would remember the truth. Of course to pray for the safety and health of Henry, but that no matter what, I would not forget that God is for me and loves me. Truefully, I think getting over the loss of a child would be easier than getting over believing that you've been forsaken by God. I don't want to trivialize that loss--but to believe that God doesn't love you? Where does that leave you? Without hope in the hard rain.

More introspection came also this week as I left Henry in the nursery at my Bible Study for the first time. About 20 minutes later, as I'm trying to lead my group, I'm crying because I miss him so much. Not because I'm worried about him or concerned he's unhappy (he was having a blast and didn't miss me at all!), just because I missed his smile, smell, touch, laugh. And then I started crying more because if I, a flawed, self-absorbed human, missed my son this much in just 20 minutes, How much more must God love me and miss me when I ignore him? Or how much more must God love me if He gave his only son to die in my place? No way in heck would I even let Henry go for an hour just to help people who are mean to me, much less let him suffer on their behalf.

It has also been a difficult week as an aquaintance of mine was recently hospitalized during her pregnancy. Henry and I went to visit her and take a basket full of goodies--mints, post-its, gossip magazines, soft toilet paper, lotion--basically all of the stuff I learned I needed in the hospital. I tried to encourage her and to let her know that despite all of my good humor and laughter at peeing in a bed pan, it is a difficult and scary time. Two days later, at 23 weeks, she delivered her baby girl. Her daughter did not make it through the day.

I am haunted by this. I hold Henry tight, smother him with kisses, and cry at the pain her family must be feeling and wonder why God chose to loan us Henry longer. I dance with him until he starts trying to wriggle away, constantly singing John Lennon's "Beautiful Boy." I want to scream at the top of my lungs, "Lord, I'm grateful, but I don't understand!"

And I don't have to understand. The truth is--God loves this grieving family. Desperately. His heart aches for them and is near to them in their sorrow. It is also true that this sadness was part of His perfect plan for them, and also, knowing them, feeling this ache--for me as well. How do I manage to put these two things together? I don't know. Life isn't a puzzle; the pieces don't always match.

All I know is that a hard rain is falling and I'm ever so grateful I belong, in body and soul, to Him.

Thank God he was early...

So at his 6 week check up, 2 days after his June 5th due date, Henry weighed 9 lbs, 11 oz and is 21 inches long. Yeah, we're thankful that the chunkster came early. He is gaining weight regularly. He is certainly a Phillips. He loves to eat and to sleep and has quickly grown out of anything labeled newborn. We had hoped that this sweet Feltman bros. outfit he came home from the hospital in would be his first outing to church outfit too, but alas, as soon as he filled up his diaper, the snaps on the crotch popped. He did wonderful in church. He is a definite Presbyterian--he slept through the whole sermon!

Grandma Phillips came in town this weekend. What a treat! I've never enjoyed running errands by myself so much in my entire life. I went shopping, got a pedicure, and on Saturday, Sloan and I went on a date. We went to see Ocean's 13 and then to Kabuto. Henry seems a bit spoiled after Grandma Phillips' stay as this morning he required being held to go down for his morning nap. (Are they called naps when all you do is sleep?)

Part Two (Sorry for the Delay)

Around 4:30 in the morning I could sense that the contractions were getting closer and more intense. My epidural had a button on it so I could press it and get more drugs, but I was hesitant of getting too numb because I didn't want to slow labor down any more. The doctor checked me and I was between 6 and 7 cm dilated and she told me to press the button. That it'd be a couple more hours and I'd still be able to push, so why didn't I just drug up already. God bless Dr. Braun (the on call doctor.)

At this point I realized that my suspicions were correct and, at last, I was going to have a baby. Today was the day. But I also realized that it was Wednesday and my doctor's day off. Henry would be delivered by Dr. Schoeffler. I like Dr. Schoeffler. He's great, but still, I was a bit disappointed. Dr. Schoeffler came in around 6:30 and told me to call Sloan and get him to the hospital. He said when Sloan arrived he would break my water and we'd get this show on the road. He assured me that we were in the home stretch and that Henry would be here well before lunch time.



I called Sloan a little before 7. Groggy, he answered the phone, "I just fell asleep. Can you give me thirty more minutes." "Um, I'll see what I can do but I'm having a baby this morning whether you're here or not." "Fine. I'll be there in a few."



Sloan arrived around 7:45 only to realize that for some reason he had taken both of our cameras home with him the night before. We now were going to have a baby and had no camera. I also was bummed because the speakers I'd ordered for my Ipod hadn't come in yet and so my groovy mix I'd made for labor would have to be scrapped. Fortunately, Laurie, my trusty masseuse was now my nurse and brought in her boom box and began playing classical music to calm me down.



Dr. Schoeffler broke my water around 8:30 and said he'd be back to check on me in an hour. He wanted me to take my time and "labor down" so that I wouldn't have to push much. Apparently this would be better for Henry. Around 9 am, I sent Sloan to the gift shop to buy a disposable camera. Laurie also came in to tell me that Dr. Murray called and she was frantically trying to find child care for her kids so she could come deliver Henry. Dr. Murray requested that I try to hold on for an hour. At this point, I'd starting getting nauseous and shaky, so I was wary about my ability to do much of anything.



Sloan returned with the camera and Laurie said that Dr. Murray called and she was on her way with her kids in tow. I was shaking more fervently and was having trouble breathing. Laurie checked me and I was 9 cm dilated and apparently "in transition". They gave me an oxygen mask and this helped with my shaking and my nausea.



Around 10 til 10, Dr. Murray showed up. Her kids were apparently at the nurses station being watched by one of my nurses from the Antepartum wing. She was in flip-flops, a t-shirt and shorts. She said, "Okay, so the nurses are sufficiently giving my kids sugar right now. Let's see what is going on and then I'll change and we'll see about meeting Henry." She lifted the sheet and said and without having to use her hands she said, "Okay, I can see his head. There's not time for me to change into scrubs. We're going to have a baby." So Dr. Murray put booties over her flops and a smock over her t-shirt and told Laurie to call NICO and get their team here. It was around 10 o'clock.



So we geared up to have a baby. As Dr. Murray was prepping, I said, "I want to just apologize in advance if I cuss at you or poop on you." She laughed. She assured me that it wouldn't be the first time and not to worry. It was very strange pushing as I wasn't sure how hard I was pushing from the epidural. Laurie told Sloan to grab my left leg and he was a bit thrown by his being asked to actually participate rather than just stand by my head and tell me to breathe. I could see the reflection of what was going on in the TV screen and I kept thinking of that episode of Grey's Anatomy when Miranda is having her baby and she tells George to stop looking at her Vajayjay. I ask Sloan if he can see Henry and he sheepishly says "Yes" but makes it clear that he's not crazy about looking. Dr. Murray tells me to be quiet, that I can't push if I'm talking.



As I push, I look at Sloan and he is making a strange face as if he is pushing along with me. "Why are you making that face?" I ask. "Stop it. You look like an idiot."



"I just want to encourage you," he says. "You're doing great."



All of the sudden there he was. This slime covered person being pulled from me. They clamped his cord; the Dr. cut it, and they whisked him off to the NICU team and then we heard him crying. As they put him on the warming table and were taking care of him, the clamp on my cord slipped and suddenly there was blood spraying everywhere. It was on the walls, my doctor's face, the NICU teams' backs, my legs. Dr. Murray and Laurie got it taken care of and then told me it was time to push again for the placenta. Sloan assures me that there is nothing on the planet more disgusting than seeing the placenta being delivered.


"Is he okay?" I asked.

"He's perfect," Dr. Dhande, the neonatologist, assured me as he handed me this sweet bundled boy.

"He looks just like me," I said. And he does. He has my hair line, my almond shaped eyes, my loud voice. But he has his daddy's big feet, long fingers, and detached earlobes. Sloan took pictures of us with the gift shop camera and then they whisked Henry off the the NICU.

Welcome to the World--Part One

OK, so this is going to take awhile to update, so thank you for your patience. Most of my time is spent either at the hospital, pumping, or getting Henry's room ready so the blog has taken a backseat. I started trying to update it last week, but ran out of time, so I'll do this in installments until we are all caught up. As of now, he is doing well.

As most of you now know, Henry Marshall Phillips entered the world on Wednesday, April 25, 2007 at 10:12 am. He weighed 5 lbs, 1.3 oz, and was 18.5 inches long. He has very long fingers and toes and BIG feet--just like Daddy. Henry's feet, in fact, the same size as his shins! He also has his father's ears, but pretty much everything else looks like me. He has a head of dark hair and remains very wiggly.

So I went into labor at about 4:30 am on Tuesday. The day I turned 34 weeks. I woke up with painful contractions and they hooked me up to the monitors, an IV for fluids, and gave me my anti-contraction meds. Unfortunately (for me), my contractions, while intense enough to make me curse and writhing in pain, were not showing up on the monitor, so the doctor did not think I was in labor. It also sucked because it took several attempts to get my IV hooked up and eventually they called a Pediatric nurse to put it in. Around 6am, they gave me Nubain, some pain medication and I passed out.

When I woke up around 9am, it was again to a lot of pain. Because I sensed that this would be the day, I called Sloan and said, "I think today is the day. But the doctor doesn't think so." He showed up an hour later for a brief visit. I also took a shower, blew dry my hair, and put on make-up as I knew birth would be an ugly, sweaty affair and I didn't want to start out in the negative column. I then asked the nurse for some Tylenol to see if this would take care of the pain I was having consistently every 10 minutes that apparently was not contractions as the nurses assured me I was not in labor.

The Tylenol did not work. Eating lunch made me very nauseous and I basically just laid around writhing in pain for much of the afternoon. I was not in a good mood, so my nurse again called Dr. Murray to come check me. This was around 2 pm on Tuesday. Apparently my cervix had opened a bit more, but I was still only between 3-4 cm dilated and she thought these contractions were just Braxton-Hicks contractions and ordered me some Stadol and more IV fluids.

Unfortunately, my IV from the morning had to be redone as it had closed despite the "heplock". So three different Antepartum nurses tried and then they called down to Labor and Delivery. Laurie, my trusty L & D nurse who has been giving me massages twice a week, came up and said she had called the Anesthesiologist to come give me my IV as I'd been stuck enough already. After waiting 45 minutes for the Dr. to come, my nurse gave it one more try and it worked. I hated the Stadol. All it did was make me drunk. It did not make the pain go away, it just made me too tired to complain about it. The Dr. showed up an hour later to give me my IV and I was already in la-la land. Around 5, the pain intensified and I called my nurse to bring me more drugs. I told her that if this wasn't labor, I could not do this for another three weeks to bring Henry to term.

She called my Dr. again, saying, "Poor Mrs. Phillips, she rarely even asks for Tylenol and never complains and now she's cussing, arching her back in pain and banging on the bed rails." They decided to check and see if I had a bladder infection or kidney stones. My nurse gave me more Nubain. But this time it did not have much of an affect. Around 6:30, my nurse called the Doctor and said, "I'm sending Mrs. Phillips down to Labor and Delivery. I don't care what the monitor strips say, she's in labor." I called Sloan to tell him and he arrived shortly.

So downstairs I was still writhing in pain, begging for an epidural. But Dr. Murray said I had to wait until I could get blood drawn to check to make sure all of my blood thinner I was taking to ward off clots was out of my system from this morning. I could not have an epidural if it had not left my system. I began cussing again. Sloan laughed at this as often times I would try to whisper the cuss words or part of them, but say the wrong part silently. He reminded me that it was not the "mother" part of my apparent favorite word that was problematic.

And people kept calling him on his cell phone and my cell phone to check on me. Each ring was met with disdain. "I don't care if it is Jesus on the phone. Tell him I'm in $%#@ labor and not in the mood to talk." He turned off both our cell phones.

Finally, my favorite phlebotomist, Ernie showed up and took my blood. He said he'd put a rush on the order and was gentle enough to find the only vein that hadn't been punctured that day. God bless Ernie!

About thirty minutes later, the anesthesiologist showed up with my epidural and in ten minutes, I was out of pain. I highly recommend epidurals. Over the course of the night, I kept calling the nurse in the ask if she saw contractions on the monitor as I sensed them. She said, "Barely." Hmm. But they kept me on the epidural and flipped me from side to side every hour (so that the epidural worked evenly.) I also had ice packs all over me as I was burning up.

Around 1 am, I sent Sloan home. He had been sleeping on the floor and was coughing up a storm. I figured at least one of us should get some sleep before our son was born and knew it wouldn't be me. He had been coughing for awhile thinking he had a cold, refusing to believe that he has allergies. I kept asking my doctor to explain to him that you could develop new allergies as you aged, and she said, "I'm staying out of this, but she's right." So Sloan went home.

More to come later...

Big Wheels Keep on Turning

A lot has happened today. For starters, I'm pretty sure Henry is having a growth spurt. In fact, if I think my belly is twice as big today as it was yesterday. The masseuse even commented on how it looked like Henry has grown since Friday. So maybe he weighs around 6 lbs by now? Henry has also enjoyed snuggling in uncomfortable positions all day long making my back hurt like crazy. Add this to the fact that I'm uber tired and unbearably hungry, (and having hot flashes), and I've been pretty whiny. Apparently, most pregnant women have swelling in their ankles, but bedridden pregnant women have their swelling in their back. So this makes my back even more uncomfortable. But the end is in sight...

I got new privileges today as I'm 34 weeks tomorrow. I get to take wheelchair rides for 30 minutes to an hour a day and now get showers every other day. Yippee! The plan (at this time) is at 35 weeks to give me some walking around privileges. At 36 weeks I would have no restrictions but would need to stay here for a couple of days to work on my strength. (This is important seeing as just sitting up to eat gets me winded and lightheaded.) At 37 weeks, Dr. Murray said she would send me home with an induction scheduled for 38 weeks. So my prayers have changed. Again. When I first got here it was that Henry would stay put for as long as possible. Then, as he has grown larger, it has been that he would enter the world as soon as soon as his lungs and innards were ready. Now my prayer is that he'll give me at least a couple of days of sleeping in my own bed and setting up some things at home.

For today's wheelchair ride, I took a tour of the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (the NICU) and spoke with a Neonatologist. I was very encouraged. Apparently, Henry has about a 15% chance of having immature lungs and that all of the scary long term issues have subsided. He said that there is even the possibility that Henry could bypass the NICU entirely and go straight to the Progressive Care Nursery (which is the step between the NICU and the regular Newborn nursery.) Tomorrow, Sloan and I are planning on taking a tour of the PCN.

Once it rains and some of the pollen washes away, I hope to wheel around some outside.

Yummy Weekend and Happy 6th birthday Joshua!

This past weekend rocked. Maybe it was opening lots of gifts, eating cake, cookies, brownies, shrimp, Turtle Chex mix, and the like (which, by the way, did not mess with my blood sugar). Maybe it was blow drying my hair, wearing real clothes and make up for the first time. Maybe it was all the hugs and kisses from my brother's kids. Maybe it was my friend Stef flying all the way in from Dallas to surprise me. Who knows? Probably some strange mix of all of the above.

I am getting antsy for Henry to be born. I figure at the longest now it will only be four more weeks from Tuesday. May 22nd to be exact. 38 weeks. I have certainly earned my elective induction card and the earliest my OB/GYN will do it is then. But mainly I am excited about giving him kisses and cuddles. And I want to sleep in my own bed. Yeah, I know that Henry won't let me sleep for long. I think Sloan is looking forward to playing Legos with Henry when he gets older. We bought Joshua some Star Wars Legos for his birthday and Sloan saw a Legos kit that lets you build the entire Bat Cave and now he wants it. I said, "So what you're saying is that in about 4 years I'm going to lose you and Henry every Saturday to Legos?" Sloan said, "How come just Saturdays?"

My Son Has Given Me Wings

My days are pretty boring these days. This is a good thing. My doctor says that you want to be interesting at a cocktail party but boring at the hospital. So I thought I'd give you a look at what is roughly my daily schedule.

6am--The nurses come in for my first dose of Nephedipene of the day and to test my blood sugar. (This keeps me from having contractions.) In order to get this med, they take my vitals as my blood pressure has to be 90 over 60. Lots of times my pressure is too low, but I've found that laying on my back usually raises it just enough. My low blood pressure is also one of the reasons the Dr's are hesitant for me to move around a lot. The low blood pressure is a side effect of the Nephedipene. We also listen to Henry at this time. I fall back asleep after this.
7-7:30--Dr. Murray makes her rounds. (She usually arrives around 10 minutes after I fall back asleep.)
8am--Usually by the time I fall back asleep, the nurse comes back in with my Heparin shot (to prevent blood clots). I get the shot in my belly and it is a good day when Henry doesn't kick me while I get my shot. I also get my breakfast at this time and tune into the Today Show for my daily dose of Al Roker.
9:15-9:45ish--I get my blood sugar tested again an hour after I finish eating. I also usually get put on the monitor for my hour long Non-Stress Test where they check for contractions and fetal heartrate. When the sound of Henry's heart beating doesn't lull me to sleep, I press a button every time I feel him move. The nurses always comment in hoe beautiful Henry's strip is.
10-11--Live with Regis and Kelly. Finish my NST. Bathe and get dressed for the day.
12--Lunch and then an hour later, my blood sugar gets tested. I usually get online at this time or sleep.
2--Time again for my vitals and Nephedipine.
3--Guiding Light and playing on the computer.
4--Ellen.
5--Dinner and then an hour later--blood sugar tested and MASH on the Hallmark Channel.
8--Another Heparine shot in the belly and either NBC or HGTV. Play with my Webkinz online.
10--Vitals, Nephedipene, listen to Henry and pray that I only get up to pee a couple of times in the night.

Occasionally I pull out my little hand mirror and check out my ever growing belly. In the past few days, I can see that Henry has both grown and found himself an odd position. I look like I have wings underneath my ribs. Dr. Murray tells me it is his butt on my right and his feet (which she guesses must be big like his Daddy's) on my left. It is really quite one of the oddest things I've ever seen.

Hungover

I spent most of yesterday nursing my food hangover. I will not be having any PF Chang's for awhile. A good long while. So my asparagus, half of a baked potato, and mystery meat with gravy dinner last night was not met with much love. Particularly since I knew Sloan was at a business dinner at Bookbinder's eating filet mignon and lobster.

Dr. Murray measured my belly yesterday morning and it was 33 cm, which is about 1 cm above average. She estimates that Henry weighs between 4 1/2 and 5 lbs. Which isn't surprising as he now wakes me up with his wiggling on a regular basis. Now that we are past 32 weeks and creeping closer to 34, I've stopped praying that he'll stay put for a long time. I'm now praying that he'll come as soon as his lungs and brain are ready and hopefully not too early in the morning. He can fatten up when he gets here.

29 weeks...

I am still waiting for Dr. Troyer to stop by to give me an ultrasound. Dr. Murray (my regular OB/GYN) stopped by and applauded me for my low blood sugar and Henry's activity level. Apparently, I am her star patient. She did, however, tell me she'd be prescribing physical therapy and suggesting a nanny for helping me with Henry as I will be very weak from having been in bed for months. I'm a little bit sad about this as I'm not going to want to share Henry with anyone and also with the realization that I'm going to be too weak to take care of him on my own.

On a different note, I've had the opportunity to watch a bunch of baby having TV shows and every time the parents always say, "We just want our child to be happy." Maybe I'm reading to much into this or have become a cynic, but I just think this is a dumb thing to single out as the ONE thing you want for your child. Is this me being oversensitive or is this really an unrealistic expectation shaped by a hedonist and impatient culture? If I had to pick ONE thing for Henry--it sure as heck wouldn't be happiness. I think it would be for him to know he is loved. And then maybe for him to be honest and to have a sense of humor. Seems to me you'd be better off wishing a character trait for your child, because, let's face it--happiness is too dependent on outside circumstances. And there are so many things so much better than happy--joyful, hilarious, proud, satisfied. OK, I feel a bit like Tobey MacGuire in the movie Pleasantville right now.

Sure, I'd love for Henry to be happy, but wouldn't wishing him patience serve him better? Sloan and I know better than most that Tom Petty is right--waiting is the hardest part.

Still Lovin' Bacon at 28 weeks

YEAH!!!! We have made it to our first goal of 28 weeks. My next goal is 30 weeks--March 27th.

Today has been the first day of my " Non-concentrated Sugars" diet. And they forgot my bacon again at breakfast, so I had the nurse order me some and I had it for my mid-morning snack. It has also been my first day of finger pricks to test my blood sugar and so far so good. The doctor does not believe that I'll need to take pills or shots. So this is good.

Also, my cable came back on today after lunch so I am once again able to watch Guiding Light.

I'm still waiting for Dr. Love to drop by for my weekly ultrasound. I am hoping things are either the same or better with my cervix so that they let me lay flat for a couple of hours a day. But for now I'll look forward to Bacon-wrapped scallops from Capitol Ale House. Yummy!

My Son and My Elephant Rock (27 weeks)

My usual Tuesday ultrasound got postponed until today and Dr. Troyer was very pleased. My amniotic fluid is perfectly fine. Sweet Henry has plenty of room to wiggle around in. He currently weighs 2 lbs 5 oz and is is the average 27 week size in all of his measurements, save for his femur bones which are average for a 28 week old. So he will be tall like his wonderful daddy. He even posed perfectly for us and I have some new profile pictures. My cervix is also looking better; I am now roughly only 1.3 cm dilated. Dr. Troyer said she felt like she won the lottery with my ultrasound. Because of this, I'm going to only 1 ultrasound a week and I get to have three 2 minute seated showers a week.

Today I also had the nurse rearrange my room. My left hip had begun to bruise from laying on it all the time, so they moved me so that I can see the TV from either side. Very exciting.

I've also become addicted to my Webkinz, Elliot Reid. I've started decorating his room, playing in the arcade, feeding him, jewel hunting, and he even gets a job to do everyday.

A big shout out to my sister, Sonya, my niece, Rachel, and my friend Blair for working in Henry's nursery and hanging his curtains.

26 weeks and counting...

Yesterday was a busy day. My friend Kaden visited and then I hosted a knitting class with another antepartum mommy and a couple of nurses. Then I had an ultrasound with Dr. Troyer. My amniotic fluid is still low, but she thinks is will take awhile to readjust since they took me off the Indocin. So she will come back on Friday to check on me. She has instructed me to drink at least 120 oz of water a day between now and then. If my fluids do not go up, she will put me back on the IV. So yet again, my day will be centered around using the bedpan. Ugh!

I am still dilated between 2-3 cm, but since I have not had any contractions in 10 days and Henry still has great movement so I GOT TO TAKE A SHOWER TO WASH MY HAIR!!! Granted, it was only a 2 minute shower and I had to sit while doing it, but it felt great. Dr. Troyer will asses if this shower and the pressure on my cervix had any negative affects on Friday. If things look good, I may be able to have my seated 2 minute showers twice a week. Thank God I have curly hair to combat flat, greasy bed head!

Since I made it to 26 weeks, Sloan brought in yummy Mio's pizza and we celebrated by watching a little Law & Order.