Discouraged

I have so much on my mind that I don't even know where to begin. Let me start at square one. About 6 weeks ago I walked into my doctor's office ready for that appointment every pregnant woman dreams of. It was the day for my ultrasound. I was excited to find out what the gender was of this little one (even though I was quite sure it was a boy), I wanted the reassurance he was growing ok, and I was hoping he would give us a good profile picture to put in a future baby album. The ultrasound went much as I expected. It is a boy (I knew it!) and he was growing fine. There was one small thing though. I noticed the ultrasound tech kept going back to a certain measurement- no on the baby- but somewhere else. I wasn't sure what it was but she didn't seem too concerned so I decided I wouldn't be either. Once the ultrasound was complete, she left the room and Jake began to speak cautiously. "I think something is wrong. Not sure what it is but she kept going back to that one spot."
When we finally got to the doctor he explained that I had a shortened cervix. "Ok," I thought, "what the heck is that?" He went on to explain my cervix is just thinning out prematurely and could cause premature labor. He told me to take it easy- no running, lifting, or vacumming. I left the office with a future appt. for another ultrasound and a great excuse for making Jake do a lot more house work. Life seemed good. Several weeks later, I was walking through the mall and I began to feel contractions. I called my doctor and they had me come in to find out what was going on. Sure enough, things had progressed much further than they should and this baby boy was trying to come far too soon. Before I knew it, I had steroid shots to help the baby's lungs mature, another round of steroids to keep my uterus healthy, shots at home Jake has to give me, and pills to stop the contractions. I was ordered straight to bed rest and told that if I don't obey, I will admitted to the hospital to keep me down. I was hearing things about making it to 34 weeks, babies in NICU, and fighting to make it to September.
This is when the fear set in. Suddenly my body wasn't good enough to hold my baby. His life was at risk and it was my fault. I am his mom and now the only way to help him was to lay down and not get up. The guilt set in shortly after. I remembered that I have two other kids that are already here and have needs as well. The problem is what they need and what this baby needs are completely opposite. There is no way I can serve them all.
So here I am... struggling to say the least. I have accepted that I have to stay down to save my baby. I recognize I must let others in to help me through this time. I am struggling to shake the guilt I feel regarding Jake and the kids. I hate that I have essentially left Jake to be a single dad. I hate that I am not a productive member of this family. I hate that there are dishes in the sink and I sit here and stare at them knowing I shouldn't do them. My heart broke this morning as the kids left to play with thier cousins. I was so sad to see them go. I knew they needed to go because I can't take care of them. I, selfishly, wanted them to stay so I could somehow still feel like I maintained my identity as a mom. I miss them. This house gets really quiet without them. I am sad, depressed, and lonely. I pray to the heavens that my body will be able to hold this baby until he is ready to come. I pray that I can overcome these feelings of helplessness and accept my role right now. But this I know for sure- This will be a summer that I will never forget!