WhitneyTo Be or Not to Be a Mother -Part Two
November 29th 2006 15:47
I was down eight pounds, almost 8% of my pre-pregnancy body weight. And I was urinating less. The doctor agreed that it was time to go back into the hospital. I hated the hospital. Although the staff in what they called “the swing unit” (problem pregnancy unit) was very nice (with the exception of the night nurses who must have taken classes in the Attila the Hun school of nursing). Still I didn’t want to go back there. But I had to. I was sick and getting sicker. The doctor didn’t want me to wait until my organs were shutting down like I did when I was pregnant with Josh. Time to re-hydrate now.
So my husband took me to the hospital, but this time he couldn’t sit by my side when he wasn’t at work, this time he had to stay home to take care of our fourteen month old son, Josh. I knew Josh needed his daddy but I was scared and lonely and I felt awful, I needed him too.
I lay in bed in that hospital and I wanted them to give me food right away so I could practice holding it down. I remembered that the last time I was there the nurse had told me that if I could hold down the food for twenty minutes after eating I’d get enough nutrition and I could go back home. But the first few days my esophagus was so irritated they had me on IV fluids only. I wanted to go home.
I wanted to go home and all those extra hormones that were making me so sick were swimming around and making my emotions overflow as well. My husband had mistakenly forgotten to pay for the TV hook-up, leaving me staring at nothing for a whole day. Nothing to do but focus on all that nausea and vomiting. And when the TV tech from the hospital came around asking if I wanted the TV turned on and I’d said yes and they’d informed me that I had to pay on the spot or there’d be no TV, I’d lost it. I had no money of my own in the hospital, I had no husband there by my side, no parents (they were at work), no siblings (at work or at home with their family) I was all alone. All alone vomiting non-stop (all that was left to toss was bile) with nothing else to keep me company than the pot I threw up in. So I cried and I cried and I cried and that mean, mean tech who had been so hard-nosed turned to mush and hugged me and then she said to hell with the money (which later that night my husband came and paid) and turned on my TV. And then she’d stayed with me until I’d calmed down. Good thing she wasn’t a night nurse.
So my husband took me to the hospital, but this time he couldn’t sit by my side when he wasn’t at work, this time he had to stay home to take care of our fourteen month old son, Josh. I knew Josh needed his daddy but I was scared and lonely and I felt awful, I needed him too.
I lay in bed in that hospital and I wanted them to give me food right away so I could practice holding it down. I remembered that the last time I was there the nurse had told me that if I could hold down the food for twenty minutes after eating I’d get enough nutrition and I could go back home. But the first few days my esophagus was so irritated they had me on IV fluids only. I wanted to go home.
I wanted to go home and all those extra hormones that were making me so sick were swimming around and making my emotions overflow as well. My husband had mistakenly forgotten to pay for the TV hook-up, leaving me staring at nothing for a whole day. Nothing to do but focus on all that nausea and vomiting. And when the TV tech from the hospital came around asking if I wanted the TV turned on and I’d said yes and they’d informed me that I had to pay on the spot or there’d be no TV, I’d lost it. I had no money of my own in the hospital, I had no husband there by my side, no parents (they were at work), no siblings (at work or at home with their family) I was all alone. All alone vomiting non-stop (all that was left to toss was bile) with nothing else to keep me company than the pot I threw up in. So I cried and I cried and I cried and that mean, mean tech who had been so hard-nosed turned to mush and hugged me and then she said to hell with the money (which later that night my husband came and paid) and turned on my TV. And then she’d stayed with me until I’d calmed down. Good thing she wasn’t a night nurse.
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