Being hugely pregnant with a husband and toddler means that you're not going to be doing a whole lot of partying on New Year's Eve. Still, Vince and I had planned to celebrate in our own old-fogey way by spending a quiet evening playing board games with our buds Julie and Shawn. Not too terribly exciting, but it was still something that we were excited about. Unfortunately, our unborn baby girl had a different sort of excitement in mind.
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I'd been experiencing symptoms of preterm labor for several weeks, most of which I'd ignored. Why? Because I'm invincible! And also because I have a toddler who makes impromptu trips to the doctor very inconvenient. Two weeks prior, however, my symptoms were severe enough to warrant a trip to the hospital. Julie took me so Vince could be at home with the Boo. Several hours of monitoring, tests, and exams later, I was discharged with strict instructions to "take it easy" or else risk being put on bed rest. I did my best to listen to my doc - after all, I had a Roomba now, so daily vacuuming was one of the chores I could cross off of my list! I suppose I wasn't taking it easy enough, though, because on I woke up on the morning of NYE with abdominal symptoms so strong that I was having trouble walking. By the afternoon when the pain had progressed to the point where I was having trouble standing up straight or breathing, I knew it was time to call the doc, who told me to go straight to the hospital. Since Vince wasn't feeling well (and becomes so bored in hospitals that he drives me batty anyway), I called my best bud Deb to take me.
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As soon as I arrived, they hooked up me to the monitors and took samples for testing. As I lay there resting, my pain lessened and my tummy stopped contracting, which led to my getting a lecture on what "taking it easy" really means. Apparently, it doesn't mean being a jungle gym for my toddler. And I guess it also means that because I have a Roomba to do my vacuuming, I'm still not supposed to be moving furniture or rolling up area rugs to clear the floors for it. How was I supposed to know??
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Apparently, mine wasn't the only belly causing problems that night; the maternity ward was bustling! As a result, things weren't happening nearly as quickly as they had the last time. And as the hours ticked by, I started to worry. You see, Deb and her hubby had made NYE plans to meet some fabulous friends at a trendy restaurant in Hollywood. When I called her at 3:00 pm to ask for a ride to the hospital, I figured that since my previous trip there had lasted only a few hours, I could have her back with plenty of time to spare. Boy, was I wrong. After three hours had passed and we were still waiting on more tests to be performed, I urged Deb to leave and let me take a cab home. By the five-hour mark, I was begging her to leave. By hour seven, she was ready to tape my mouth shut. And not only did she insist on staying, but she told me that she wanted to stay - and she actually meant it! It brought tears to my eyes, but I guess that that's what true friends do - they give up the chance to get gussied up and mingle with the fab and famous in order to sit in their sweats and feed ice chips to their pregnant friends.
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In the end, I checked out fine and Deb managed to make it to her destination exactly one minute before midnight. The docs told me that my symptoms may have been caused by a purely mechanical issue: my abs stretching out and separating. Yikes! I was told that in order to avoid being checked into the hospital and put on bedrest, I really needed to try take it easy by staying off of my feet and getting some help with Benjamin. I was also advised to get some more support for my growing belly in the form of a maternity belt:
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