Through the Looking Glass

This has been one of the most surreal weeks of my life.  For those unaware, Tanya was admitted into Piedmont Hospital one week ago after her blood pressure was elevated at her doctor's appointment.  The perinatologist (it's a baby doctor while your babies are in the womb) felt that Tanya needed to be put on bedrest for at least one week to try and keep the babies in for as long as possible, so for the last week Tanya has lived in Room 290.

She's pretty sure that the outside world still exists, thanks to some visits from friends and the television.  There's a window in the room with a great view of a large HVAC evaporator.  Tanya can get up whenever she wants to as long as whenever she wants to means when she has to use the bathroom.  She has kept her spirits up much better than I have, even though I can leave (and have left for a time) every day.  I am going nuts.

We have developed a mindset that something is going to happen tomorrow when Tanya visits her doctor, but we could just be told that we get to wait another week.  Tanya's blood pressure and blood sugar and vitals have looked just fine ever since she's been admitted.  We really have no idea what is going on right now.  We sit here and we sleep here and Tanya eats cafeteria food while I eat out of my lap out of paper wrappers and we feel like we may never leave here.  We know that each day that the babies stay in is better for them, but some of the mystery of what is about to happen has been dulled by Tanya's incarceration in the Antepartum Unit.

I know that this may sound like we're impatient but that's because  at this point we're impatient.  If we were sitting at home and able to do what we normally do and I was sleeping in a bed rather than a vinyl chair that's 8 inches too short for me then we would be quite alright with waiting, but the thought of another week at the hospital is enough to make us both a little crazy.

On the other hand, I've encountered many people here at the hospital that are having it far worse than us.  I talked to women who have spent 10 weeks on this floor.  I met a man who came in with foot pain only to find out that he has a cancerous tumor in his sinus cavity.  Talking to these people makes me feel ashamed at my frustration in our predicament, but at the same time we can't help but be frustrated.  When Tanya had her surgery 2 years ago there was a definitive time when the surgery was going to happen, and after it was over we knew that Tanya was recovering and then we would be going home.  In this instance we know nothing; maybe Tanya will have the babies tomorrow or maybe she'll have the babies 3 weeks from now, maybe the babies will be ready to go straight home or have to go to the NICU for a week or a month.  The uncertainty is overwhelming at this point.

So here we sit.  Tanya's in the bed sweating and I'm in the chair freezing.  Tomorrow morning I'll wake up and go to school and Tanya will still be in the bed and then she'll go to the doctor and maybe then we'll know something for sure.  As for now, just a whole lot of nothing.