I stayed all quarantine in bed, but I’ve never felt more loved.
I was 20 weeks pregnant at that time with twin boys when my husband and I had fun in Disneyland celebrating his birthday. He was looking at me with so much love and admiration, even though I had quite a visible baby bump already. I was confident, happy, and yes, even sexy. Although a voice in my head was telling me that with the pregnancy pains would be a kill for intimacy, especially combined with parenthood coming later, and our marriage would be secondary to our boys.
That fear became much worse a month later when I was at a routine checkup. My doctor was watching my cervix when it suddenly shrank during the ultrasound. Even before I could understand what was going on, a contraction monitor was strapped around my belly. I didn’t feel anything at that moment, but I saw scary zigzagging lines appear on the paper.
The doctor decided to admit me to the hospital, as my contractions were even less than 10 minutes apart from each other. I couldn’t believe it, of course. I wasn’t supposed to give birth for another three months at that time! When I was in the hospital, the instructions were simple: lie in bed. It was crucial to my sons’ health and well-being.
It might seem easy at first, but doing nothing isn’t exactly my thing. I usually don’t sit still for more than 15 minutes, even if I’m working, eating, or watching something. Honestly, I frequently do these things simultaneously. Even worse than that, I felt lonely.
Just like that, our new and happy marriage turned into a long-distance relationship. The hospital I stayed in was far away from our home and even further from my husband’s office. As a result, I saw him only one time during the week and one more time on the weekends.
Every time he left, my husband gave me his t-shirt, for me to bury my nose in his scent while I slept. He called me every day, waiting anxiously as I talked about how our babies grow.
Days became one as I had to stay on this lock-down. During the time when my husband was buying things for the babies with my mom, I felt like a prisoner with the four walls of my cell closed in on me.
I memorized in detail the view from my window in the hospital. But unlike a convict, I didn’t have the opportunity to spend 15 minutes in the yard.
Weeks passed by without a breath of fresh air. Going outdoors was such a big event that my husband brought wind-up toys with him to celebrate.
We were talking for hours, just like when we were first dating. He tried to find a way into my hospital bed, but we both could bear the crowded quarters. Such places as hospitals make physical affection almost impossible and conjugal visits completely impossible. There was also a large rail on each side of the bed, with different machines parked which made leaning over the rail extremely uncomfortable for my husband, as he’d unavoidably disconnect one of the important tubes or wires.
Of, and I looked ugly, too. My skin became pale, I didn’t feel like wearing makeup. My hair was messy, but I’ve never felt more cherished in my life.
Since my husband couldn’t visit me every day, he turned my room in the hospital into a version of a college dorm; he brought a mini-refrigerator, plates, bowls, and utensils, and even a memory foam mattress to make sure that I’m comfortable. He also hung photos of us on the wall, with a large dry erase calendar (for me to see how far I’d come and how much time is left), and other decorations.
My pregnancy didn’t go as I hoped, but despite feeling like I’m trapped from time to time, I realized how lucky I am. Now my husband and I connect in so many new ways that I couldn’t even imagine before this hospital detour. So at this moment, as I feel all these little movements inside me, I appreciate the wonderful gifts my life gave me.