Saturday, October 23, 2010
Celine Dion... and me...
Being put on bedrest is something I was completely terrified of when I was pregnant with twins myself.
Well, that and dying. Actually I wasn’t the one afraid of that, though. Medical school seemed to have given my husband a little too much information about What Could Go Wrong in a Multiple Pregnancy.
Actual conversation between me and my husband from that time:
Him: Oh, yeah. I thought I did that last year.
Me: Well, you’d better call them and cancel it again.
Him: (long pause) Well…maybe I’d better leave it for now.
Me: What? Why?
Him: You know, just until the twins are born.
Me: Until the twins…. Hey WAIT a minute! You mean in case I DIE?!?!
Him: I’m just being practical.
Well, it was nice to know that he had the bases all covered in case I kicked the bucket.
But anyways, I was more afraid of going on bedrest myself.
I mean, with three other kids to take care of, I don’t see how bedrest would even have been POSSIBLE. I can’t even go on CHAIR rest around here. As soon as you sit down someone wants something! I can barely read two sentences in succession of a book before I‘m interrupted.
Although I remember years ago a friend whose (single) baby was threatening to come prematurely had to go on bedrest for NINE WEEKS. And she had a preschooler and a toddler at the time!
And (unlike Ms. Dion, I’ll wager) my friend had to do it without the aid of any nannies, maids, nurses, et cetera. All she had was relatives, and lame friends like me to bring a casserole and a paperback once in a while.
But she stuck it out, and that baby is healthy and in the third grade now.
Now THAT is a supermom!
But of course they’ll take good care of her at the hospital.
And maybe she can hire someone to keep her from getting too bored. Maybe a clown? A comedian? Or a tap-dancer?
Or maybe she’ll just be stuck watching bad TV with the rest of the world…