So, Mr. D will be heading off to his hometown on Sunday, leaving his 35 week pregnant wife to the wolves. Ha, don't I sound pathetic? Yes, he really is going away, but, as I mentioned in a previous post, I have plenty of folk here to help with any level of trivial (or non-trivial) matter that might arise. Gabe, the dog, and I will be staying with my parents while he is gone. I really don't expect to go into labor in the next week, but I have been having a heck of a time lifting Gabe, which makes some of the basics (diaper changes, bed time) difficult. All the more reason to happily accept an extra set of hands or two to get through the evening routine.
I have no new news on Mr. D's dad. I think today was to be the next attempt at removing the ventilator, so we should get an update tonight. Perhaps this time around he will start cooperating with the hospital staff. Yeah, right. Who the heck am I kidding? I feel awful even saying that, because one never knows exactly how the healing process will proceed. But when the doctors and nurses repeatedly tell you that your behavior is only making things worse, and then it makes things worse, wouldn't you want to behave in a way that makes things better? Especially when your outbursts are directly related to frustration about being in the hospital? Sheesh. My dad is a stubborn goat, too, but when he had heart surgery a while back, he actually listened to the doctors and was out of the hospital quickly.
Ok, deep breaths...calm...calm...
Have a great weekend. We will be spending Saturday setting up the crib, installing the carseat, and taking any other Murphy's Law-preventing actions that we can manage to keep this kid right where she is until Mr. D returns.