Bed Rest = Hell

If I hear someone say it again, I will scream. "Enjoy your time to rest now, it's only going to get worse." Like being on bed rest is like spending the day at a spa -- lounging around, being pampered, without a care in the world. Bed rest, to be quite frank, sucks... a lot.

Don't get me wrong -- I thank God every day for saving our girls. I am happy to be on bed rest and still pregnant as opposed to the alternative of mourning the loss of our twin girls at 20 weeks due to incompetent cervix. I am just tired of people who have no idea what this is like telling me to "enjoy myself." There is nothing enjoyable about bed rest -- nothing.

Geoff and I knew that me going on bed rest at 20 weeks was going to be a challenge. Early on I had my worries -- like, how in the hell is this going to work? Will I ever survive being stuck in bed for 10+ weeks? How will Geoff handle being my personal chef, grocery shopper, maid, and all things baby -- purchaser and preparer. Geoff went in to this with a very positive attitude -- he got me to realize that it is out of our control and I had a job to do (to bake our babies) and he had a job to do (take care of me and the babies). I felt better about things after hearing his perspective.

Here we are now, 10 weeks into our bed rest experience. I say our experience, because it isn't all about me -- Geoff is enduring just as much hardship as I am, and sometimes I forget that. Maybe not "forget" -- I know he is working very hard to do everything he can to keep it together, but he is such a man -- he will never show his true feelings that bed rest has been just as stressful for him. I of course have taken every opportunity available to remind him how hard bed rest has been on me. I suppose that I can't blame him for not wanting to dump all of his frustrations out on me, since I'm already a basket case as it is.

Bed rest for me has been a complete, total feeling of helplessness. I am usually a doer -- I don't wait for others to do things for me. If something needs to be done, I do it and won't ask for help to do it. Being on bed rest, I have had to learn to rely on others -- primarily, Geoff. Friends always say "if there is anything I can do, just let me know" -- but really, what exactly are we going to ask them to do? Laundry? I'm not about to let any of our friends see our dirty laundry -- pun intended. Cooking? Sure, people have brought by dinners, unsolicited -- but once they do that once and we look into an empty freezer, are we to call them up and place our next order? As much as I appreciate people's generosity for offering to help us out -- it is very hard to actually pull the trigger on those offers. I also think people say that without really thinking about what they are saying. I think they would be pretty surprised to get a call from me asking for them to actually do something for us. Maybe I'm wrong...

Bed rest also has been a lot of isolation. My job revolves around people -- I work in Human Resources -- the word human insinuates that there is human contact. Being without regular human contact takes a toll on a person. I sit alone in my room all day and long for when I will again have human contact -- whether that is a phone call, an email or a visit, in person. I can't wait for Geoff to come home so I have someone live to actually talk to. You never fully understand the concept of loneliness and isolation until you are stuck being alone for extended periods of time without the freedom of just getting up and going somewhere.

Bed rest for Geoff has been a lot of stress. He is single-handedly running our household. Every thing that needs to be done, he does. Not only does he have to take care of me and our pets, but he has also had to do everything to get ready for our babies, by himself. This is definitely not how we dreamed things would be like when we decided to pursue becoming parents. And I openly admit -- I am not the easiest person to live with. I have a lot of traits from my father -- and one of these traits is my obsession with needing everything in its place. If I see things that he has left somewhere, and if I don't like where he left it -- I move it. I constantly tidy up -- stacking things, moving things that are out of place. I'm so bad that before Geoff knows that I'm going to pay a visit to the main level of our home, he tidies up so I don't get disappointed with how he is keeping the house. Then, while I'm down there, I inevitably see the one thing he didn't think to move or put away, and I move it or put it away, making him feel like he has let me down.

I know that it is for the best to keep our girls inside of me for at least another seven weeks, but I can honestly say -- seven more weeks of bed rest might just drive me insane. I don't know how I could ever survive that. These 10 weeks have surprisingly gone by pretty quickly, but emotionally, I feel as if I am about to fall apart. Poor Geoff -- I'm pretty sure that if I break down into tears one more time over nothing, he will lose it too. Bed rest is just taking a toll on both of us, and as much as I want "take home babies" who will spend no time in the NICU, I am ready for these girls to make their long-anticipated arrival into the world so Geoff and I can return to being a team -- this time as parents, and I can return to the land of the living once again.