Wasting the Day Away in Baby Jail

Day 25 of baby jail was the first time I did not want to eat the food here. Every meal that came by looked extra disgusting today and by dinner the thoughts of eating the sad looking Hungry-man-like turkey dinner did not appeal to me. I broke out of the unit (legally! I signed out and everything) and went to the pizza place in the cafeteria for a slice of Kosher cheese pizza. A couple of weekends ago the owner of the pizza place chatted with me at length about the cheese he uses. It came all the way from Israel by way of Chicago and Montreal before making it to his kitchen. I must say it's pretty decent pizza, especially when compared to the dinner option that I ditched on the tray before leaving the unit.  I also grabbed a Kit-Kat on my way back up to the unit. My nurse and the nursing student that was with her today were at the desk when I came in discreetly hiding my chocolate bar and busted me for sneaking chocolate in. The nurses always seem to catch you when you have candy or chocolate. For the record, I am allowed candy and chocolate. I passed that horrible 2 hour glucose tolerance test after failing the 1 hour test by 1 point.

Here is a visual sampling of the food that we are served for lunch and dinner. Usually I don't mind it, but today, I'm done with this food.

I have downloaded UberEats in the hopes of being able to survive the next 12 days. Otherwise, I will be living on buns, gingerale, crackers and the cookies I sneak down to Second Cup to get. 

The Baby Jail Sentence

The day that you are officially told you are stuck here until the end is quite possibly the worst day ever of your pregnancy. Before the official word is given, there is always hope that you might still go home and live out the rest of your pregnancy at home on bed-rest eating bonbons and watching a lot of crappy daytime TV. I remember the moment the OB came in and told me that I was in until the end. I put on my brave face while chatting with her and the charge nurse, waited until they left and then burst into tears. The tears lasted off and on a couple of days. It might be different for everyone, but by day 3 I had come to accept that I was stuck here until at least 32 weeks where there was hope that I would be able to go to the hospital closer to home. That hope was dashed on September 8th when my platelets dropped and my OB didn't feel safe sending me to a hospital that didn't know what they were in for. There were some tears that day too, but by then I knew that we were both safer here. Plus, I know the lay of the land on this antenatal unit and the schedule of the day. It would be a lot of effort to learn the rules and schedule of a new unit in a different hospital.

Today was sentencing day for my roommate. Every pregnant woman on this unit has a different reason for being here. Some of them are here for observation for 24-48 hours and sent back into the world to live their last pregnancy weeks away in the sunshine, most of us are in here until the end. My roommate was hoping that she would be one that would be released into the sunshine. Despite the news not being for me, it was heartbreaking to hear that she wouldn't be going home and would be here until the end. All the feelings from my sentencing day came back. She will likely be here until sometime in mid-November if her little girl doesn't come before then and has two little boys are home. She's taking it really hard. I tried my best to re-assure her that it would be OK and in a year it will all be such a distance memory, but I know from my experience no words help during those first few days of processing that you will live here until a baby is in your arms.

In addition to my roommate getting her sentencing, my old roommate ended up back in baby jail until the end on Sunday night. It was nice to see a face I knew, despite the horrible situations that brought us both here. It looks like our girls will be coming within 2 weeks of each other, which is exciting!


Ultrasound Tuesday

There was some good in the day! It's Tuesday! I look forward to Tuesday every week. Tuesday is my ultrasound day. Everyone on the unit has a day that they are pulled into the tiny room near the Nurse's station for 20-30 minutes to have their weekly ultrasound. It's a nice break from having medical practitioners in your "space" and you get to watch the entire ultrasound on a big screen TV while the technician completes the scan. They even let you take pictures of anything you want while you are in there. Today, a fellow (Definition: a fellowship is a period of medical training that a physician or dentist may undertake after completing their residency. During this time, the physician is known as a fellow) was in the room to watch my scan (I assume she was watching all the scans this morning) and asked if I wouldn't mind staying a couple more minutes (turned into 15 minutes) so she could practice some of her skills. I have learned here that if I can waste 15 minutes AND help someone hone their skills AND see Baby A for a couple more minutes I am not saying no.

Baby A weighed in at a hefty 6 lbs 1oz. The debate online is that the weight measurements from ultrasounds at this gestational age can be wildly inaccurate, by up to 1.5lbs. My ultrasound nurse measured 3 times to ensure it was correct since the previous ultrasound with weight measurements (September 2nd) had her weighing in at 4lbs 8oz. That means little A has gained over 1 1/2 lbs. She also has a beautiful little profile and adorable chin and lips straight on. Below on the left is Baby A's profile plus 3 of her fingers (she does have all 5, but she was holding her hand in a fist). To the right is Tom the massive fibroid. He's that mass of grey material to the right of the screen.

So now I sit on Tuesday evening waiting to see if Wacky Wednesday has anything in store for us. Perhaps a trip to the other side is in my future or it will be another day hanging out in baby jail.

Bonus Picture

Me, with sweet hospital hair, from Saturday hanging out with my IV pole. Saline to celebrate 34 weeks!!