A Year Ago, Part Four of ?

So amidst the blur of the time I was in the hospital, there are a few moments that stand out more clearly than the others:

• When I first went to the hospital I went to the one nearest our home, where I was supposed to have Michael. It was there that we realized something was truly wrong, but didn't really know the extent of things yet, only that I'd be spending the night.
• The next morning, February 11, the doctor doing rounds let us know that they'd decided I needed to be transferred to the larger, downtown hospital, where they were more prepared to deal with complicated pregnancies and preemies. For a brief time we thought they were going to transfer me in a HELICOPTER. My (closely monitored) blood pressure spiked at the mere thought. As it turns out, the flight for life team was in charge of the transfer, but took me (thankfully!) in an ambulance. (Okay, I think my blood pressure goes up just remembering how it felt to think for even a few moments that I would be going anywhere by helicopter.)
• Once we got settled into the new hospital a doctor came to sit with us, have us sign many consent forms, and basically explained what was wrong as well was everything that could possibly happen - including the possibility that the baby and/or I could die. I think they were trying to make sure that we realized the potential seriousness of the situation. That was a rough night.
• Another memorable day was the day we "toured" the NICU. I think I was somewhere around 28 weeks. I don't know how you can really be prepared to see all those impossibly tiny babies and monitors and machines. . . And the perfectly lovely nurse who was showing us around and explaining how things worked kept saying, "When your baby this," and, "When your baby that." And it was the phrasing that put me over the edge. And the poor nurse and Matt had to keep going right along as I sat there and quietly cried nearly the entire time she talked to us. It bothered me for days, the way she kept saying, "Your baby. . ." because at that point my water hadn't broken, and I was convinced I would be on bed rest until May, when I would deliver a perfectly healthy full-term baby. I hated her assumption that we would be in the NICU at all.