All I Wanted was a Good Cup of Coffee

”I just want a coffee, a really good coffee!”. I said that exact phrase many times during my antepartum experience. I think it symbolizes A LOT.

For some women- it’s coffee. For others, it’s headbands or specific sweatpants. For others- it’s certain pillows, a home cooked meal or savory snacks. It’s different for every antepartum mom.

But I know we each crave and need something outside the walls of our antepartum room that we can’t leave.

For me- one of those things was a really good coffee. Each morning I woke up in the hospital, I craved a delicious cup of joe. If you know me- you know that’s my thing. The aroma, the feel of a hot mug in my hand. The first sip. Even while pregnant and drinking decaf…I just wanted a non-hospital cafeteria cuppa coffee.

There were many other things that symbolized home, normalcy, life before antepartum/accreta and previa. Things that I desperately wanted but couldn’t access being on hospitalized bedrest. Things like:

My own bed

A supply of comfy clothes- bathrobe, slippers, sweats, t-shorts, pajamas, socks.

Coffee

Meals and snacks on demand as I craved them or felt hunger strike

Books

Crafts

Games

Control of my own TV channels and shows

ALL the Christmas things that usually filled our home

Toiletries

Hair products/supplies

And more

Once I was admitted long term, I did end up accumulating many of these items in my room. My family and friends brought many things to me, which I was so grateful for.

But the reality of being in antepartum care, means that you can really only have with you the basics- if someone can bring them to you. And not immediately..it may mean waiting hours or days to get what you need.

And while you can or may have these items…you are still stuck in a sterile hospital room, with limited control over anything.

In the days immediately before Christmas, I was so lonely. I saw my family in spurts and bursts- my husband was still working whenever he could, so he could save his limited parental leave for after baby arrived. He was juggling daycare pick up and drop off for our toddler son, and bringing him to me whenever he could..usually later evenings, so we weren’t apart for days. I FaceTimed and called everyone- my parents, in laws, siblings and friends. That helped the loneliness and I constantly offered thanks for the gift of technology. Can’t imagine the experience without it.

And some amazing friends stopped by too. Bringing treats, gifts, food, and yes- coffee! I looked forward to the times I knew people were coming. And I cherished the visitors I had- I even had friends who I hadn’t seen or talked to in a long time show up for me.

One friend came by with a delicious iced coffee beverage, snowflake making materials, and “busted me out!”. (We got special permission from the nurse for my friend to wheel me outside to feel fresh air..something I hadn’t felt in days).

Another friend drove up from an hour & a half away to bring me a bagel from a favorite local place where she was.

Another friend sat by my bedside and shared her c-section tips & recovery while bringing me Starbucks.

My siblings came on Christmas Eve (more about being hospitalized for the holidays in a future post), and my nieces lounged on hospital mats while my mom, dad, siblings and siblings-in-law (is that a thing?) hung Christmas decor.

To get through the days, I read The Happiness Advantage by Shawn Achor and taught myself Soduku. To get through the nights, I watched videos on my phone of my son and endless hours of Christmas and Netflix movies on the iPad my husband bought me once I was admitted. I kid you not..Hallmark & Christmas movies helped me survive the dark, dark nighttime hospital nights.

Aside from the one time my friend wheeled me outside for some quick air, I didn’t see the outside of my hospital room for the duration of my stay (with the exception of visiting the chapel on Christmas Eve and then when I was taken to the OR). It’s humbling and eye opening to have to entirely rely on others…and to not be able to move further than beyond the bed…I could only go from the bed, to the bathroom, to the bench in my room. And then towards the end, I couldn’t even do that.

All this to say- I can barely scratch the surface of what the antepartum experience actually felt like. How slow, isolating, terrifying and endless it seemed. And anything I can do now, to offer support, simple items, and hope to current antepartum moms and families…is my laser focused goal.

I needed to know..and they need to know now- you are not alone.

Holiday hospital gift baskets donation wishlist: https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/3NSU8CWSI660W?ref_=wl_share

(You can read more about what I’m doing with these hospital gift baskets on my Project Mama’s Hope website, under the “Get Involved” section).