Waiting for Baby

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Waiting for Baby
I heard a funny term yesterday at my OB: "Modified Bed Rest". Since I was simultaneously submitting to a Doppler tracking of my baby's heartbeat and sword fighting with my three and a half year old son, Jack, who'd had to accompany me to my visit, I found the concept amusing. At what point does "bed rest" include a child?
The nurse explained that for the better part of the day I needed to be still with my feet propped up, preferably in bed. I thought about Jack's scholastic and social schedules, all of which need constant chauffeuring and none of which include a bed. "It's only for a month," I thought.
After packing up various action figures, crackers, juice boxes and books, then visiting the potty again, I made it home and climbed into bed. Jack climbed in too and stared at me. "What are you doing, Mommy?" he asked.
"I'm resting, sweetie," I said, as I fluffed up my pillows, sipped from my water bottle and flipped through the latest People.
"Well, get up," he said. If only it were that easy.
I tried to explain. "The doctor says I need to take it easy, honey. I need some quiet time for the baby."
He seemed puzzled. "But it's daytime, Mommy," he said as he pulled at the curtains. "See?"
Finally he agreed to leave me alone while he played with his toys quietly in his room. This lasted all of about ten seconds. "Mommy, where are the music cards that go to my piano?" he called from his room. I tried to explain, but he's not overly swift on looking behind things (like his father). It was easier to get up and get them.
I laid back down again and turned to the "Letters" section of my magazine. "Mo-o-o-o-mmy" I heard again. "I can't make Buzz Lightyear stand up."
"Bring him in here," I said weakly. I tried to explain (for the ga-zillionth time) how to adjust the legs so that Buzz supports his own weight.
"Close the wings too, Mommy," Jack ordered. He thought for a moment. "Please."
I closed the wings. He immediately pressed the button that opened them. "Close them again, Mommy."
I leaned back against my pillows, closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened my eyes again, Jack's face was in my face and he was breathing on me. "Are you asleep, Mommy?"
"No, I'm just resting," I said tiredly. The baby gave my bladder a big kick and I winced.
"I'm hungry. Can I have an apple?"
"Yes."
"Can I have a Yoo-Hoo too?" Jack asked, then dissolved into laughter as he bounced on the bed. "Yoo-Hoo-Too! Yoo-Hoo-Too!"
"Stop bouncing please, you're bothering me," I said as I attempted to find my place in the magazine. "Now go get your apple and take a break."
Ten seconds passed. "Mo-o-o-o-mmy. Can I watch TV?" I remembered Jan Taylor and Kim Meckelborg telling me at the beginning of my pregnancy that the TV would become my best friend. I remember thinking at the time, no way, we'll do little craft projects or I'll read to him. We'll have quiet snuggly times together when I start to drag in my final trimester.
"Yes." I practically broke a leg in my effort to get out of bed and turn on the tube.
"Can I watch a movie?"
"Yes."
"Not that movie. The one about the pig."
I clenched my teeth. "Go get it."
The movie was produced, I set it up, got Jack his drink and climbed back into bed.
"Mo-o-o-o-mmy. The movie is skipping."
I got up to adjust the tracking. As I adjusted it I noticed the VCR clock read 4:05. Great. Only two more hours until my husband got home. We'd only been home from the doctor for 20 minutes and I was ready to scream.
I got back into bed. The baby kicked my bladder again, so I visited the bathroom. Jack came in. "I have a poopy, Mommy." Our potty training isn't quite at 100% yet, obviously. Jack helpfully brought in the wipes and clean underpants. I changed him, wiped him down, then rinsed out the underpants and put them outside with the other 10 pairs waiting for the wash. He went back to his movie, and I went back to bed.
I actually got to read a whole article before the phone rang. Rats. I heaved myself out of bed and went into the kitchen to answer the phone. It was a wrong number. I brought the phone back in with me and got into bed. I looked at the clock. 4:35. Okay. I could do this. The movie was good for about another hour at least. Maybe I could get some sleep.
I laid back down and closed my eyes. Breathing woke me up. I opened my eyes to see Jack staring at me. "Are you sleeping, Mommy?"
"No, just resting." Didn't we already have this conversation? No matter. "Don't you want to watch the movie?"
"No. I want to be with you." He climbed up into bed and snuggled against me.
I leaned over and kissed him, then felt around on the floor by my bed until I found a few storybooks. We cuddled up together and read Dr. Seuss until my husband, Phil, came home and my voice was hoarse from creating different accents for the various characters.
"Hi!" Phil said as he came in. "This looks cozy."
I explained about my "Modified Bed Rest." "It doesn't sound so bad if you just get to lie around all day," Phil commented.
I didn't say anything at all. I couldn't imagine four more weeks of the kind of rest I'd had just in the last two hours.
"What's for dinner?" Phil asked innocently.
"Whatever you go out and get," I said cheerfully as I turned back to my magazine. "And take Jack with you."
"McDonalds, McDonalds, McDonalds!!!" Jack shouted as he jumped up and down on the bed. The bouncing made the baby move and it kicked me in the bladder again.
As I hobbled into the bathroom I called over my shoulder, "Sure, McDonalds is fine." I knew for a fact Phil would never be able to get away with a drive-through and they'd be at the McDonalds with the ball pit for at least an hour.
I grabbed an apple and went back to bed. Four more weeks, I thought. Then I'll get to have a day like today plus one attached to my breast. I could hardly wait.

A Little About Pam
I am a stay-at-home mom with two boys: Jack, age 5 and Steve, age 18 months. We live in Huntington Beach, CA and live to play in the sand and the water. I currently edit and publish the newsletter for my mother's club and enjoy finding new websites for our members to surf. This will obviously be one! I hope to someday become the "new Erma Bombeck" and become a paid columnist somewhere. This is a great first step for me.
These works are copyrighted by the author, Pam Powers. Reproduction of any kind is prohibited with out the express consent of the author. Please feel free to let Pam know what you think of her work by sending her an email.