By Maura
Life never seems to let us down in the surprise department,
good bad or otherwise. Just a couple of weeks after receiving the wonderful
surprise that I am having a son, I got a not so nice one thrown my way.
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| My little man in 3-D |
I was about 400 miles away from home, enjoying a nice long
holiday weekend with my in-laws in Ohio. Somewhere between too much pumpkin
pie, Black Friday shopping and chopping down our Christmas tree, my body
decided to throw my easy pregnancy a curve ball. I was having stabbing pains in
my lower abdomen, followed by waves of cramping pain.
The second hospital was waiting for me and I was thankfully
seen right away. The doctor advised I would be kept in the hospital overnight
for observation and so I could see the high risk pregnancy physician the
following day. They started me on a
magnesium drip, IV fluids and the most fun part, a catheter. I was also given a
shot that is designed to help the baby’s lungs in the event that birth should
occur.
At this point I am 23 weeks pregnant with our tiny baby boy.
We were advised that he is barely considered a viable fetus, and the likelihood
of survival outside the womb is incredibly low. The list of possible
complications if he did survive is endless.
Needless to say, we do not want our baby to be born this soon, and now
the fear hits us hard. The gravity of the situation is slowly, and sadly,
beginning to set in.
After I am hooked up to fluid lines and monitors and family
has arrived, a nurse comes in to see me with some documents to sign. Without so
much as a brief explanation, she hands me a pen and reviews the various forms;
authorizations for a vaginal birth and epidural, permission to release the
baby’s birth to the local press, whether or not my husband wants to cut the
umbilical cord.
Within a few short hours I had gone from bladder infection to
birth plans, and was trying my hardest to be strong and not burst into tears. I
felt like a spotlight was shining on me, I was the center of attention, hoping
I was taking enough to time to understand what was happening, and ultimately
doing what was best for my little family. I was scared, confused, and in a
considerable amount of pain. My sister-in-law was the most reassuring voice,
letting us know that the forms were standard and asking the nurse the questions
that were stuck in my throat.
While I had never been in this particular hospital, it does
hold some history for my family. My grandmother taught nursing there in the 1940’s,
as well she and my grandfather were the only couple ever married in the chapel
there. And in 1977 that was the birth place of my baby’s father; the karma was
good, and I reached out in prayer to my grandmother for help and strength.
I spent the first evening sleeping in 10 minute intervals,
feeling every contraction and counting the minutes in between, praying and
hoping that each one had gotten further apart. My contractions had remained 2-3
minutes apart since my arrival, due to this lack of change another drug was
prescribed to try and stop them. I noticed the improvement throughout the
evening, and by morning was excited to hear that they had spaced; the
contractions were no longer regular and the time between each one was
increasing.
Our baby’s heart was strong and his movement was regular
throughout this ordeal, which was wildly reassuring. The whooshing sounds of
his heart became a familiar and comforting background noise in my otherwise
uncomfortable surroundings.
The following morning we made our way to see the doctor. I
was woozy from the medication and carefully put in the wheelchair. The ride
over felt like a roller coaster, which was apparently too much for me, and I
had a little fainting spell. I woke about a minute later to the worried face of
my sweet husband, but all was well. The doctor examined my cervix and let us
know how serious the situation was. I was effaced and my cervix was funneled,
it had also shortened to about half the size it should be. The only thing
between the baby and possible delivery was a very thin membrane.
The course of
action was to completely stop the contractions, and he advised I would be on
strict bed rest until I delivered. I should plan to stay in the hospital for a
couple of more days, and would be back the following day to check on my body’s
progress.
The next two days were filled with promise and good news.
Much to the doctors’ surprise, they were able to stop the harmful contractions.
My cervix continued to thicken and by day three was back to a normal length. My
original prescription for bed rest, which included a maximum of 2 hours on my
feet per day and no stairs, was a little less likely. The doctors advised us to
immediately see my regular doctor once we arrived back home and see what she
had to say. They felt that based on the improvements I may eventually have my
bed rest lifted completely.
My in-laws had hoped we would stick around for awhile after
being released from the hospital. Everyone was relieved with the improvements,
but we still didn’t know what caused the contractions to start and a six hour
drive home was worrisome. The doctors there were adamant in their insistence
that we get in the car and head straight back to Chicago. We needed to take
advantage of the fact that things were going well. It really hit home for both
of us when they stated that if our baby was born there we could plan on at
least a 9 month hospital stay for the little guy. It was definitely time to go
home.
We made it safely back without issue (and lots of napping
for me!). We have been to our local doctor a few times, everything still looks
great and baby boy is growing at a healthy pace. By the first of the year I
should be able to go back to my normal work and daily routine. I do have
contractions every day and still have to time them, but fortunately they have
been spaced far enough apart that there is no cause for concern.
I am so grateful for everyone throughout my entire
experience. The nursing staff was kind and professional, my family has been
there for me every step of the way, and my friends have been a source of
comfort and support. Now let’s just hope this little guy stays on the inside
for a few more months!!
You can contact Maura by sending an email to mumblingmommy@mumblingmommy.com.
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