I hope all of you also follow my Facebook page that is tied to this blog, as, since I’ve been on bed rest, it’s much easier to throw out a quick status on my phone or tablet than it is to write a blog post long enough to be worth it. But, this week was so crazy, it deserves its own true blog post.
So, while enjoying dinner last Sunday, I started getting what I thought were my normal Braxton Hicks contractions. Oh, to catch everyone up, at this point, I was already “uncorked” and dilated 1 cm. Anyway, I disregarded the first few, since I had been having these practice contractions for a couple of weeks. Then, they really starting to hurt a bit, and started developing a slight rhythm. Thankfully, there’s an app for keeping track of such things, so I started counting the contractions. They were coming about 10-15 minutes apart, so I did all the things they tell you to do to rule out Braxton Hicks (walking, drinking water, going to the bathroom, showering, etc). Nothing made them deviate, so I called the triage number, and, around 9:30 pm, we made the trip to the hospital.
Once we got there, we learned I was dilated to 3 cm, and my cervix had thinned 75%. That was a good sign I wasn’t going home anytime soon. They put me in a room and started giving me medicine to try to stop the contractions, because these girls really do need a bit more time. They also started me on steroids, hoping to get both doses in me before I went into labor so the girls’ lungs could be developed quicker. Meanwhile, the neonatalogist came in and gave us worst case scenarios to expect if the girls came then, as well as what to expect if we were able to keep them in a few more days. Nothing really sounded promising. We also met one of the anesthesiologists, and he was very comforting.
That was around 4:30 Monday morning. It took until around 10 pm Monday night for me to stabilize to the point that they were confident I wasn’t going to have the girls that day. I only increased dilation by 1 cm. That also meant I had nothing to eat for 27 hours. When they said I could be moved to the antepartum floor, all I could think of was the fact they serve food there! They actually let me eat before I left labor and delivery (which was probably a good thing. More on that later). The sandwich and everything that came with it disappeared in 15 minutes.
Once I got settled in my room on the antepartum floor (from now on, referred to A7, for brevity), we really thought we’d only be there for a day or two. The docs had other ideas, because I actually just got home today, and that was after I entered a plea for my sanity this morning.
My first full day on A7 wasn’t too bad. I got a decent breakfast, Noah had a chair that folded out to a kind of bed, and the nurses/techs were pretty nice. Plus, they listened to the girls’ heartbeats every four hours, so that was fun. I also got to order my lunch and dinner, which, for this pregnant girl, was a real treat. Nutrition did forget my ice cream at lunch, but I finally got some around 7 that night.
The second day was when my stay started getting frustrating. I never really knew who my nurses/doctors/techs were, because the board seldom got updated. It got to the point that Noah started putting question marks where all the names were supposed to go. It took two shifts for anyone to notice. Sometimes, they would comment about his artwork, and still not update the board.
This is how the board looked for two days:
It finally got updated last night when the night nurse came in.
Most of the time, I didn’t hear from any medical staff on the floor except when they came in to do my vitals and listen to the heartbeats. The doctors came in between 6 and 7 am to say, yep, you’re not going home. The one good thing was my regular doctor did stop by every day, and I could get more information out of him. He hinted that I could stay until I hit 34 weeks, which is next Tuesday.
On Tuesday, we had a full ultrasound, and both girls weighed in at 4 lbs, 12 oz!!! That’s a lot of baby in my belly! Everyone was happy about their weight, and said it will help them if they decided to come.
Wednesday was pretty uneventful. Noah kept me sane by coming to see me with Starbucks before he went to work and hanging out for a couple of hours after work. This became our normal routine for the rest of the week.
Thursday was the most eventful, as the contractions tried to come back. In fact, they did come back, in the middle of the night, which ment no sleep for me. They went away around 9 am, but not before showing a nice big one for the doctors. The painful ones stayed away until around 1:30 pm, and they decided to put me back on the monitors. They also checked, and I was still only dilated at 4 cm. Of course, as long as I was still, the contractions stayed away. They gave me oxycodone to make them stay away, and they did until two big ones around 4:30 this morning.
When the doctor came in this morning to check on me, I started pleading my case. I mean, come on, who wants to spend Valentine’s weekend in the hospital? Unless I’m actually having these babies, I could do everything I was doing in a hospital room in the comfort of my home, with my favorite caretaker spoiling me.
At 7:30, I got the news I was hoping for. I was boring enough they said I could go home! I thought, yay! I’ll be home by noon! Noah stayed, thinking the same thing. Had we known it would take me reminding the nurses I was there, Noah could have gone to work and just picked me up at noon. Because no one came in to talk to us until after I had changed into street clothes, and packed all my stuff, and we waited, and waited, and waited, it wasn’t until around a quarter to 11 that we were told I would have to be put on the monitor and have my cervix checked before I could be discharged.
Now, I’m not sure whose responsibility it was to discuss with us that important part of my discharge plan, but I didn’t need the attitude from the nurse when I asked her to take out my hep-lock. I was a bit miffed, if you can imagine. I got back undressed, and waited.
It took another hour, but I was finally free!!! The one tech that always had a great attitude gave me a hug and told me to make sure she was told when the girls were born so she could come visit. No one else really said much.
Now I’m home, with my youngest dog in my lap, which is the best feeling I’ve had all week. Jager really hasn’t left my side except to eat his dinner and go outside. He’s currently passed out wrapped around my leg.
I’m really glad the girls have decided to stay in their oven for now. I really want to be able to bring them home when I come home.
So, that’s where we are right now. If the girls continue to behave, we go see our doctor again in ten days. If not, then we’ll head back up to the hospital and do this all over again. Though, if it’s after Tuesday, in order to avoid A7, I may ask them not to try to stop the labor if it’s actually going to come.