Yesterday I went to visit a pregnant friend in the hospital who just got put on bedrest. She's showing signs of early labor, something she's had to deal with before. The doctor put her on bedrest in the hospital (because she has a toddler and a teenager at home) for the remaining 3 months of her pregnancy. The first thought that popped in my mind when I heard about this was, I wish that was me.
I can just imagine it: sleeping till I'm sick of sleeping, reading tons of books (trashy stuff!), catching up on TV shows I've missed, surfing nonstop, being served food, and not picking up after anybody. The kids come to visit and give kisses, then they go home for someone else to deal with their messy diapers and temper tantrums. This, mothers, is as close as it gets to heaven on earth.
My friend, however, was not so enthused. She's hooked up to an IV and that annoying contraction-detecting belt that has to be redone every time she shifts positions. She misses her husband and children who can only visit every now and then. And she's worried to death about the baby inside her because if he comes out now, he's not going to make it. Add to that late-night mommy visitors (that's the only time we can get away from the kids) who keep telling her how lucky she is, and I can understand why she might be a tad miserable.
I could read her mind. You are so lucky that you popped out four kids with no major trouble. Or maybe it was just my own subconscious mind. So, okay, hospital bedrest for 3 months may not be heaven. Two weeks would be. Or at the very minimum, one week, definitely.