If you had asked me two years ago, or at any point in my life, really, whether I ever imagined checking into a foreign hospital for any length of time, I would have laughed and said no. On Monday, I voluntarily checked into a Danish hospital for what I hope will be six weeks of monitoring my monoamniotic/monochorionic twins before they are born.
The hospital check in was not an easy decision, but after reading about this pregnancy and talking to no fewer than five doctors, it was the only right decision. Of course, I am missing my home and my family and especially being there for all the parts of my 2 1/2 year old's days.
I haven't really been admitted to a hospital in any country other than when I gave birth to my son in the US, but between that experience and a few urgent care visits and visiting family in hospitals in the US, I have an idea about what hospitals are like in my home country. And, well, it is a little bit different here.
When we arrived Monday, we went up to the floor and department where I was being admitted, announced our presence and were immediately shown to a room. It was ten in the morning. At 2:30, after I had had my first session on the fetal heart monitors, some midwives came to my room with a computer and asked a few questions for admission. At 10:30 pm, another midwife got me a hospital ID bracelet and a name tag for my bed. There are no nurses on this floor, only doctors and midwives.
Meals are served at a buffet that is set up near a small kitchen. Those who can't walk around have meals delivered, but I can walk over and get my food. The food is really good and doesn't taste nearly as institutionalized as the meals we got when we were in the hospital for our son's birth. I can wander into the kitchen anytime and help myself to yogurt, milk or juice.
I can also wander down to the linen closet and take any towels, clothes or blankets I might need. There is another closet with vases should someone bring me flowers.
It still feels institutional and like a hospital here, and the facilities are old, but there is something inherently homey about it here. The midwives have been kind and patient, even though the monitoring is tricky and frustrating at times and some of them may be asking themselves why I am here. This hospital has seen only about 5 pregnancies like mine in the past ten years. I am a medical oddity on a floor with mostly women on bed rest for early labor. It has been an interesting first three days to say the least. Something like 35 to go (hopefully) until my twin girls are born at 32 weeks.
I can be patient, I am happy to be able to have visitors at any time!! And to be able to walk around freely. I am reading and watching cheesy movies. I will make it through this trial. But I have to admit that it breaks my heart every day when Riley leaves to go home and I can't go with him. I once described the constant uncertainty of this pregnancy as excruciating, I still hold that opinion and am adding being away from Riley to the excruciating list. I am most certainly being tested with this pregnancy and I send up wishes every day that my family will be rewarded with two healthy baby girls. Thanks to all my friends and family for your continued prayers and positive thoughts it is enormously heartwarming to have so much support and positivity coming our way from all over.
The hospital check in was not an easy decision, but after reading about this pregnancy and talking to no fewer than five doctors, it was the only right decision. Of course, I am missing my home and my family and especially being there for all the parts of my 2 1/2 year old's days.
I haven't really been admitted to a hospital in any country other than when I gave birth to my son in the US, but between that experience and a few urgent care visits and visiting family in hospitals in the US, I have an idea about what hospitals are like in my home country. And, well, it is a little bit different here.
When we arrived Monday, we went up to the floor and department where I was being admitted, announced our presence and were immediately shown to a room. It was ten in the morning. At 2:30, after I had had my first session on the fetal heart monitors, some midwives came to my room with a computer and asked a few questions for admission. At 10:30 pm, another midwife got me a hospital ID bracelet and a name tag for my bed. There are no nurses on this floor, only doctors and midwives.
Meals are served at a buffet that is set up near a small kitchen. Those who can't walk around have meals delivered, but I can walk over and get my food. The food is really good and doesn't taste nearly as institutionalized as the meals we got when we were in the hospital for our son's birth. I can wander into the kitchen anytime and help myself to yogurt, milk or juice.
I can also wander down to the linen closet and take any towels, clothes or blankets I might need. There is another closet with vases should someone bring me flowers.
It still feels institutional and like a hospital here, and the facilities are old, but there is something inherently homey about it here. The midwives have been kind and patient, even though the monitoring is tricky and frustrating at times and some of them may be asking themselves why I am here. This hospital has seen only about 5 pregnancies like mine in the past ten years. I am a medical oddity on a floor with mostly women on bed rest for early labor. It has been an interesting first three days to say the least. Something like 35 to go (hopefully) until my twin girls are born at 32 weeks.
I can be patient, I am happy to be able to have visitors at any time!! And to be able to walk around freely. I am reading and watching cheesy movies. I will make it through this trial. But I have to admit that it breaks my heart every day when Riley leaves to go home and I can't go with him. I once described the constant uncertainty of this pregnancy as excruciating, I still hold that opinion and am adding being away from Riley to the excruciating list. I am most certainly being tested with this pregnancy and I send up wishes every day that my family will be rewarded with two healthy baby girls. Thanks to all my friends and family for your continued prayers and positive thoughts it is enormously heartwarming to have so much support and positivity coming our way from all over.
Hej Jodi nice to hear that you are fine. Soon youll go back home with your twins, just hold on and try to embrace every moment. Iam praying for you and hopefully well visit you soon.
ReplyDeleteJuliet
Jodi, you are so brave! Praying for you and your family. Love you guys!
ReplyDeleteThink about you guys all the time. Sending love and luck and health across the ocean. I'm glad you didn't have the same European hospital experience I did, where (in Bulgaria) I learned the phrase "Arm yourselves with patience." Sounds like the Danes have things better figured out. If you're bored in the hospital (of course you're bored in the hospital!) some evening after Riley leaves, give us a skype call. hugs
ReplyDeleteJeff, Shannon, and Socha
Thinking about you, Jodi and your family!! It sounds like you're doing everything you can do to have a positive outcome; I hope that makes the challenges a tiny bit easier. It'll all be worth it when you hold your baby girls.
ReplyDelete