Pros and Cons of hospital life

Having never been hospitalized before (at least not that I can remember), my only perception of it is either what I've experienced from visiting others, or what I've absorbed from highly overbudgeted prime-time television. But regardless, I've never had a pretty picture of it in my mind, and I'm experiencing firsthand that living in a hospital sucks.

Everyone keeps saying to me, "well you're in good hands, you're where you belong..." and trust me, peeps, I get that. But it doesn't make it any easier to swallow or digest that you are BEDRIDDEN and under constant supervision when you FEEL FINE. It's very very very hard, and for those who know me well, you know that I am an on-the-go kinda girl. Who doesn't like to be told what to do. And here in the hospital, I am constantly being told what to do and not allowed to be on the go whatsoever. So, I'm doing my absolute best to deal.

Having said that, I've been trying to make a list of pros and cons of this hospital stay... and naturally, the list of cons FAR outweighs the pros... but I thought I'd identify some of the "good," and the "bad" things about this hospital stay.

Pros:

• feeling so loved and supported, to the point of being humbled... I am not someone who likes to be waited on or taken care of, and all I can do is lay in this bed and be at the mercy of those who love me and want to do everything in their power to make me feel better and more comfortable. I have heard from both my nearest and dearest, and friends from long long ago who are reaching out to give their support, and it feels amazing. I feel so loved and appreciated and it's making the mental element of this ordeal a lot easier to digest.
• Not having to go to work for a LONG time
• My hairdryer - I am allowed one shower a day, and depending on which nurse is on at the time, they even let me get out of bed and sit in the chair across the room for 5-10 minutes to dry my nappy hair after I get out. It's the only thing that helps me feel a little more human and ready to face any visitors that may come... and it's really the only thing I have to look forward to each day.

Ok, so I guess that's it for the pros.

Cons:

• Anti-embolism compression stockings - these fucking things... SKIN TIGHT thigh-high stockings that I have to wear AT ALL TIMES... they are designed to prevent swelling and prevent an embolism. they are making my legs itch, sweat, and cutting off circulation at times when they slip out of place. They are HORRIBLE. Certain nurses who've proven friendlier or warmer than others have given me temporary reprieves from wearing them, but for the most part, they are ordered to be on me at all times (other than when I'm in the shower) and they are the absolute, 100% worst part of being here.
• Missing my dog, my house, my shower, my toilet, my STUFF - luckily, the human beings in my life can come to me and bring some of the comforts of home, but it's just not the same. Though I was lucky enough to get a special Christmas day visit from my fluffy son, I miss him so terribly, I can't even put it into words. I lay here in this hospital bed craning my neck over my right shoulder (as I'm being given strict orders to rest on my left side, and the tv is behind me) I think about how nice it would be to be snuggled in on my overstuffed couch with pillows cushioning me on all sides, and actually have access to REAL television, and not the major networks and the frickin' Newborn channel.
• Hospital food - Ugh. All I can say. And truthfully, honestly, it's not THAT bad. But it's just eating your meals off a tray, from your bed, in a semi-upright position, in a hospital, that sucks. Luckily for me, I don't seem to be on any sort of restricted diet, so Mom and Dave both brought me plates from their various Christmas dinners attended. So, that's made things a little better. But still, it's depressing to know you won't sit at a table and enjoy a real meal with other civilized people for a very long time.
• Stale air - hospital air is dry and still. And THANK GOD the window in my room cracks open a few inches so I can at least get some air flow in (considering these Godforsaken stockings have me sweating bullets at night). I'm not allowed to go outdoors, and I'm not sure how I am going to breathe in and out this stale dry hospital air for the next 30+ days without any exposure to the outdoors. I guess I need to start trying to bribe nurses for some privileges. I can't help but equate this to being in my own personal prison... I know there's no comparison, but it feels that way.
• Crying babies - I know, I know... I'm in a maternity ward. And women are having babies on a daily basis. But I'm not, yet. And it's really hard to listen to the little babies as they get wheeled in to their Moms for feedings, and know how unknown and unsure my situation really still is... it's very sad. Especially because there will be no wheeling Natalie Diana in to me, she will be all wired and connected in the NICU and I will be staring at her through a thick pane of glass until she is big and strong enough to actually be held by me.
• Lack of sleep - between the thrice-nightly wake up calls for blood pressure readings, Non-Stress Tests, and blood work, it's impossible to get a solid night's sleep. And let's not even discuss the terribly uncomfortable, unbreathable bed to which I'm confined. And during the day, I can't get any rest because I typically have a constant stream of visitors. Which, I'm certainly not complaining about... but it makes it hard to catch some shuteye. I am thinking that the flow of visitors will begin to slow down now that people will start returning to work and have gotten their initial visit out of the way, which again, I appreciate so much... but it's hard when I start to get tired and I have people overlapping one another in and out the door from dawn to dusk. And then of course, once Dave or the last evening visitor has left and it's finally time to sleep... well, I have no interest in sleeping then and I am craving attention. Go figure
• People trying to commiserate - let's face it... unless you've been hospitalized for any length of time, you cannot possibly know how awful this experience is. Yes, it's easy to say, "oh well you're in the best place for you and your little girl, "and "it's a good thing they caught it when they did, " as if I don't know these things, but again, it doesn't suddenly make being confined to a hospital bed all the more appealing. I realize that every day I am in here, and still pregnant, is a good day for both me and the baby, and the longer she stays in me, the less time she'll have to spend in the NICU once she's born... but still... it just sucks. I want to get my daughter here in the best health and condition possible, but it doesn't mean that I can EVER be happy about my current situation.

So, as you can see, the bad far outweighs the good. I could keep going with the cons, unfortunately, all day, but this blog post would get annoyingly long, and repetitive. The truth of the matter is, I'm unhappy. I'm trying to stay positive, but my back and legs are getting sore from lying still all day long, and my blood pressure readings don't seem to be really improving, so I'm getting frustrated in not knowing what's next and waiting for each next reading. The hope of being released anytime soon for home bedrest has all but flown out the window, so now I just have to keep praying that another nurse will take pity on me and let me take off these stockings to let my legs breathe for ten minutes.