The Beginning

On February 9th, my water broke. I was only 18 1/2 weeks pregnant. After a long day in the ER we went home with little to be hopeful for. I was told that the chances of me going into labor or getting an infection in the next week were huge. If I made it past that first week, I still had 5 more to go, before I would be 24 weeks and my pregnancy would be considered "viable". I was sent to a specialist the next day, put on antibioitics, and told to stay in bed. There wasn't much else they could do for me or my sweet baby boy.

With 24 weeks as my goal, I started my bedrest. For the next 5 1/2 weeks I stayed in bed at home. I would have gone crazy if my Mom hadn't been there every step of the way. She arrived at my house before Geoffrey left for work in the morning and stayed until he got home every night. Not only was she there, but she always had something for me to do. She taught me how to crochet, and how to knit. She brought all kinds of craft projects for the nursery we were planning. We spent our days doing crafts and watching old movies. On top of entertaining me, she would feed us, clean my house, and run errands for me. One of the biggest blessings I received out of this experience was all the time I was lucky enough to spend with her. She was my rock and I couldn't have made it through the days ahead without her.

We also had so many other family members and friends that were there for us every step of the way. We rarely had to make our own dinner at night thanks to good friends and family. We were lucky enough to have lots of visitors that would come over and entertain us and spend time with us. The only time I left my house was once a week to go to a doctors appointment, so I was very grateful for the time people came over and spent with me.

Once I made it to the 24 week mark, I was admitted to the hospital. Up until now, the doctors were only monitoring me and my well being, but now they felt there was more they could do for our sweet baby. Our biggest concerns were his lung development and his movement. When my water broke, I lost all of my amniotic fluid. A baby can survive without it, but it really hinders lung development and makes it harder for them to move around. I was given steroid shots the first couple of days to help with lung development and we were both checked every 4 hours for any signs of stress, infection or contractions. On top of our checks every 4 hours, I would have a non-stress test that lasted about 45 minutes each day.

We started to learn about his personality with each of these tests. He hated the doppler machine that would tell us his heart rate every 4 hours. Whenever a nurse would come in and turn it on, he would get really active and move around a lot. He hated them poking and prodding at him to find his heart, and once they would find it, he would kick at the wand that was pushed up against my belly, or move around so they would have to start the test all over again. These were the times we would feel him the most.

For the next 2 weeks, we basically moved into the hospital. Geoffrey would sleep there with me every night on a pull out couch next to my bed. I spent my days with my mom by my side, doing craft projects and entertaining me, and my nights going on wheel chairs rides around the hospital and watching Greys Anatomy with my husband. We didn't love our time spent at the hospital, but we were getting into a comfortable routine everyday and enjoying our time together.