Sunday, August 29th
The day was seemingly a normal one. I was feeling fairly well, as I had for the entire 23 plus weeks pregnancy. I did have a feeling of pressure in my pelvic region that was of some concern but nothing that I felt required immediate medical attention. I had been trying hard to not alarm myself or Bret. I was trying to just listen to my body. That had been my mantra all along especially for the delivery of our little boy. On Saturday I had an insignificant amount (but an amount nonetheless) of pressure in my butt. I kept saying, "It feels like I need to go to the bathroom". Sunday night rolled around and I thought a good night sleep would eliminate the feeling and all would be well. The day before we had completed our registry at Goores and Babies r Us. I figured the pressure (which seemed somewhat minimal) was brought on by a lot of walking. I went to sleep around 9:00pm and woke up at 11 with a somewhat increased sensation. I also had some discharge that did not make me happy. It was very little but enough that I didn't like it. As I listening to my body I felt it was time to go to the hospital. At this point I think Bret might have felt I was being a wee bit silly but he supportively went along with it without and complaints. We got to the hospital and went to the emergency room. They took me over to labor and delivery where I met the triage nurse and Dr. Tyson. My lil' one's activity was confirmed by swooshing sounds and a strong heartbeat of 142 beats per minute. The two weeks prior I had been seeing Dr. Mentakis who diagnosed me with a cervical aperture. He wanted to keep monitoring me via internal ultrasounds but up to this point he was not alarmed. It was closed enough with the small tip of my amniotic bag dipper down. He felt would could catch any changes and provide me with the necessary medical attention in time aka cerclage (the sewing of the cervix). I was permitted to go to work. In retrospect, I did way too much that week. I was unable to set up my classroom until last minute. I had some help but the help certainly didn't replace me burning the candle at both ends. I am very disappointed with my workplace and still think someone should have noticed that stress level was inappropriate for anyone, especially someone who was pregnant. Perhaps I should have spoken up but I truly felt I had. Not enough? I was, I think, already considered quite the "articulator" aka "complainer.
Dr Tyson, the labor and delivery Dr. that evening checked me with the speculum. I learned that using the speculum, although more uncomfortable is less invasive than a digital exam. The concerned look on her face said it all. I was 3 cm dialted with a bag the was dipped down too much. I was rapidly admitted. A nurse with a lovely accent worked on me to get my on complete bedrest, an IV started with steroids which later proved to be extremely important. She started my IV in my forearm which I knew was a bad idea. She insisted and was unsuccessful. I now have a lovely pruple bruise to show for it. The new IV was started in my left hand as I intially requested. Anxious I waited through the night, Bret my my bedside. I could tell he was so nervous. I felt helpless and really wished I could comfort him more.
The night hours passed slowly and with every tick I worried what was going to be the outcome. 6am rolled around and my nurse tracked down my parinatologist. He was making some rounds that were not really part of his duties but once he saw my name he came in. I really liked him and respected his medical knowledge and opinion. He decided to check the status of my cervix to confirm the 3 cm of dialation and an increase in the amniotic sac tension from the last time I had seen him. He gave the nurse medical orders to start my on 3 mg of Magnesium Sulfate. His bedside manner definitely was in efforts to calm me down. However, he didn't blow smoke up my ass. He warned me that the Magnesium Sulfate, now known to Bret and I as "The MAG", had nasty side effects. I would feel like I was on fire, spacey and was on fluid restriction. The thirst was the worst part and only got worse as my fluid restriction increased. The MAG required a certain ratio of fluid intake because too much fluid coupled with strict bedrest could cause Pulmonary Edema. PE is an abnormal build up of fluid in the air sacs of the lungs. Scary stuff but at this point I would just have to deal. I was ordered to not get out of bed and put into a position called Trendelenburg. This position requires that your body is flat with your head down and feet up in a significant angle. This could make anyone crazy and I was no exception.
We were given information that will remain one of the scariest days of our lives. Bret and I were confronted with the fact that delivering a baby prior to 24 weeks meant almost eminent death. I had to hold on until 24 weeks. The 24 week mark would signify viability. Bret and I emotionally discussed our desires. As adverse a situation, it was most comforting to learn that my sweetness, my love, my husband, my partner, my true best friend and I continued to have values and hopes for the future that were the same. When you get married you never know what you are going to get, especially in a situation like this. My thoughts could have changed and our alignment could have been out of wack. I am so grateful for him. This was just the beginning of a week's long ordeal and only the beginning of a love that was about to grow exponentially.
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