One more week

It is an odd kind of loneliness, spending the evenings separated from my wife and nascent children, reading, watching TV, strumming the guitar, doing anything to take my mind off of this situation so I might grab some sleep. Especially when I have Cole the Dog staring at me from his bed with a curiously suspicious stare: "where the hell have you taken Kris. I 'd prefer her to you, you know." I can't stay overnight with her anymore as she has been transferred to a different unit. I was unprepared for the physically palpable feeling of sadness and helplessness I go through when I leave her in the evenings. To say that Kris is a strong person would be a ridiculous understatement, but I feel awful that there is nothing I can do to lighten her burden right now.

Enough about me. Kris' condition has remained pretty much unchanged since Saturday. She's been having mild contractions every 5-8 minutes or so and she hasn't dilated any further. (I never thought that I would be discussing the state of my wife's cervix with so many people, including co-workers who I am otherwise unfamiliar with. "How's Kris doing, Mike?" "Fine! Her cervix has thickened up since we last spoke, Fred. How's your better half?")

So here we are almost one week later from that scary day when some dude walked into the room and told me they were THIS CLOSE to deciding to take the kids out. Every week is crucial. Here's the thing, though. This is why there can be no relaxing. This could all change in an instant. Today, Kris noted that the contractions were ever so slowly speeding up and becoming more painful. By 3pm she was tracking at three minutes apart and the contractions had changed from mild cramps to outright painful. The docs made the decision to put her back on the indocil, to try to relax and control the contractions. And it seems to be doing the trick for now. When I left her tonight she was tracking at 6 minutes and the pain had subsided.

And now I'm back home with Cole and Steely Dan and a box of syrah (not bad, btw). It's pretty clear that this is going to be a constant back and forth struggle to stave off labor. I am pretty sure we aren't going to make it to 32 weeks as we had hoped. Every day we can steal helps.

I want to thank everyone who has come out to visit Kris. It is really making her days and nights a lot easier. I want to thank Meg and Andy for attempting to help me feed myself, and Fiona for helping with the animals, and Mary for bringing food and supplies, and everyone else. The happy side effect of going through a difficult situation like this is realizing just how lucky you are to have all of these amazing friends and family. I would recommend never taking this for granted. The support we have been shown from friends--both lifelong friends and brand new friends--has been nothing short of inspiring, and it's so beautiful it makes we want to cry.

But instead I'll pour another glass of wine from this spigot and thank you once more.