(Yes, I'm double posting today, the last one was long enough without adding this bit of history to it.)
February 10, 2008, was a Sunday. After the doctor's appointment I'd had the Friday before things hadn't gotten worse, but they hadn't improved either. By Sunday I was so anxious about the situation that I couldn't sleep. I finally got up out of bed and used the computer for a couple of hours until it was time to get ready for church.
I was looking back over my notebook and blog posts from this time last year and I wish I'd written more of the specifics about what was happening. I have specific memories of a handful of things, but so much of it is fuzzy. I remember emailing some recipes to a college friend that morning, I remember eating breakfast after church, and I remember the on-call doctor eventually confirming that yes, I probably should head to the hospital.
I don't remember if I packed any kind of overnight bag. I know I put the book I was reading (Object Lessons by Anna Quindlen), my notebook, and probably some Sudoku puzzles into my backpack - knowing I'd probably be waiting at the hospital for a while (ha!).
I think Matt was busy with basketball that day. I'm pretty sure Ann came over to watch Harper when I left for the hospital. I drove myself (it's only a couple of miles away). I was able to walk right up to labor and delivery and skip the emergency room - pregnant ladies get all the perks. It would be about six weeks before I'd drive my car again.
I know I got a room and a hospital gown and an IV and an ultrasound, but I don't recall much about any of those. The on-call doctor was amazingly kind and I think she did the ultrasound herself. I don't believe they found any conclusive reason for the bleeding I was having right away - my partial placental abruption was difficult to see.
I remember reading my book and trying to watch the pro-bowl to pass the time. I think Harper and Matt came by to see how I was doing or maybe bring me a couple of things once we realized I'd at least be spending the night.
I don't remember whether we knew, that first night, that I was definitely going to be on bed rest. I know we were told it was a possibility that the baby might come anytime.
I had my first steroid shot - which hurt, um, a lot - but was worth it, of course.
I have a very, very vivid memory of finally calling my parents, who were on vacation in California. They were at a bar with a couple they'd met and maybe golfed with, having drinks. Can you imagine the buzz kill my phone call was?
I started to calmly explain to my mom what had been happening and I could hear her getting upset over the phone. I knew if I could hear her freaking out then I would freak out, and I remember saying to her that she was going to have to stay calm or I would ask to talk to my dad instead. (In hindsight, there might have been a better way to handle that.) She remained calm and I explained what I could.
I was exhausted, but I'm not sure how I managed to sleep that night. Actually I think a nurse might have given me something to help me sleep. I don't think I had any idea yet about what we were really in for.