This is the plan.

Before Dr. W left for the day on Wednesday, he came back in to see me one more time.

"This is the plan" he said "24 hours without a fever and you can go home. Your blood work shows a tiny bit of an improvement. You could be better tomorrow. You could be better in four days. You are going to get better though. You really are."

That was comforting, but I was starting to get really angry with myself. This whole experience was just getting downright depressing.

Wednesday night I, once again, didn't eat much. I declined the sleeping pill they offered me and I settled in for another sleepless night.

However, something weird happened.

I fell asleep. I slept and slept and slept. I slept all the way until 4am when.... my fever spiked. All I could think about was how the clock had now reset. 24 more hours of hospital life. I finally decided that I couldn't focus on what I was missing out on anymore. Every time I started thinking about my kids and what they were doing without me, I got so depressed that I just wanted to give up completely. I decided right then and there to focus on myself.

It's a hard thing for a mother to finally decide that she needs to be selfish. That sounds odd, but it's the truth. When I leave my kids for even just a night out with Matt, I feel guilty. There's a piece of me that feels like I should always be with them. Always.

After the fever spike ended and things were calming down, I blocked all my worries out and tried to fall back to sleep. And I actually fell asleep. Once again, I slept and slept.

Matt left for work and the nurses came in to try and get me to eat breakfast. Nothing sounded good and I really couldn't keep myself awake. The nurses would come in to talk to me and monitor Bennett, but I would fall asleep while I was trying to answer their questions. I remember thinking, "I'm either getting better, or dying". I slept on and off all day. It was a weird sensation to wake up and have no idea when you fell asleep or how long you had been asleep. I had to laugh because I really did think I knew what it was like to be TIRED. I had three little kids at home. Being tired was an all too familiar feeling, but this form of exhaustion was unreal!

Dr. W came in. I was surprised to see him since I knew he wasn't supposed to be at the hospital that day, but there he was. Luckily he caught me while I was somewhat coherent.

He sat down and looked me right in the eyes, "I've thought about you all day. I've decided that since I know you live close I'm going to send you home. BUT! You have to promise me that if you even feel the SLIGHT beginnings of a fever that you'll come right back".

I was as close to elated as a person could be in my condition. I was going HOME! Not only was I going home, but I was going home still pregnant!

Dr. W continued, "You are not out of the woods yet. I'm sending you home with a hefty prescription. I talked to two different pharmacists to make sure that I could give you the right dosage to help you get better."

He took a long sigh and then said, "I honestly don't think you'll be infection free by the time you finish this antibiotic. You were and still are really sick. Take the weekend and rest. I do want you up and walking, but don't overdo it. Come to the office on Tuesday and we'll discuss a game plan. At this point, the one thing that's going to help you get better is to deliver a baby. We've got to get you strong enough to deliver, but not wait so long that the infection comes back. We've just about maxed you out on what I can give you as far as medication goes."

He left and immediately a nurse came in to help me get ready to leave. Discharge was extremely fast. It's amazing how much faster you leave the hospital when you don't have a newborn with you.

Matt showed up and we left.

Honestly, I was a little hesitant on what to hope for. I really wanted to believe that I would be able to recover and have a baby just like all the other times. This whole experience really made me realize how little our wishes for the "perfect" birth experience matter. The whole entire time I was in the hospital, I realized just how much I wanted to just be healthy enough to have a happy baby. That was it.

I went home, sent Matt back to work and fell back to sleep. That night I ate the first full meal I had had in days. Out of curiosity, I stepped on the scale. I had lost 10 pounds in a week at 36 weeks pregnant. My body was slightly stronger, but still didn't feel like the body I had always known. I had a long road ahead of me, but I was HOME.

I went to bed that night and noticed that Bennett was, once again, wiggling wildly - just like he always had.