I had a doctor's appointment Wednesday. I had been having increasingly painful contractions for the last two weeks (about 30 minutes apart and strong enough to wake me all night). I had also been extremely uncomfortable for the previous few days. That morning I woke up to some, um, different stuff coming out of me that led me to believe that there might be some straining on the cervical cerclage stitch that could be pulling on the cervix, so I figured it was going to be an eventful day.
I went in
(last progesterone shot, hooray!) and the doctor checked me—WOW that time hurt.
She was like yeah, I'm taking your stitch out today so it doesn't tear your cervix (that had been scheduled for next week). She sent me straight to the hospital.
were still coming, but my physician had to attend to an emergency twin
c-section (those kids are ok, thank goodness), so my mom and I were hanging tight and waiting for Jon to show up.
At about 7:15 p.m., my doctor came in, scootched up to my bed
and snipped the stitch. It was pretty quick, but not pleasant. The stitch was basically wrapped around the cervix and cinched tight like a Hefty trash bag. It snapped SO
loudly, I jumped at the noise. But I immediately felt a loosening down
They kept me for observation and I continued to have contractions
till 10:30 p.m. when they sent me home. My doctor said no more work; I'm on "strict" bedrest now. She said if I needed to we could just
turn around and come back to the hospital.
Since the stitch has been
out, my back pain has lessened, I walk more like a normal pregnant
person, instead of a 90-year-old without her walker. My inept, tricky right hip (whom I call Dennis) that never seems to want to cooperate because of nerve pain has started to play a little nicer. I SLEPT for the first time
in several weeks (only got up twice to pee) and didn't have painful
contractions! The last two days I have lay in bed/couch all day and had the tightening of contractions, but they are nothing compared with the ones I had the last few weeks with the stitch intact.
It's really weird not to work. Especially because my work team is down a couple people already and I'm leaving them a few weeks earlier than anticipated. But I have to say, the not having to work has been oddly relaxing. I watched six hours of Rehab Addict on Thursday--I've decided this house needs to be gutted and restored to how it was originally in 1968. I am knitting a few little items for the baby, bingewatching Scandal, trying to read more and trying to ignore my compulsion to want to clean everything.
Last night I had a mini freakout because the baby wasn't moving around as much as she normally does. Usually when I tracking her movements (doctor said 10 an hour is good), I get 10 in the first three minutes. But last night it took her almost the full hour to get to 10. And they weren't the regular jabs of appendages stretching out or shifting positions but instead lighter blip-like movements. Even after I had a little lemon sorbet. I got upset. My mind went to the edge of the scary place. I think it even rattled my even-keel husband. This morning she is moving around more like normal. The sweet parathas probably helped, too.
I need to keep more busy.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Saturday, September 20, 2014
Quick update: We are now at week 34. The baby is fantastic. Any problems I'm having can only be blamed on my body being angry at being taken for granted all this time and using this opportunity to make me pay for it. As a result, I now have a deep, lifelong respect for all that the disabled must endure.
I'm having fake-out (Braxton-Hicks) contractions that should be fake-painful as well, but that's apparently not how this works. My tricky hip (nerve pain that has made turning over in my sleep a ridiculous process since month two) makes everyone think I'm 11 months pregnant because of the way I waddle and cannot get in and out of vehicles without assistance.
But! This kid is doing great: She's got one foot up by her face and one foot down by her booty so she can simultaneously kick me in the groin and the ribs. And I don't mind one bit. I am so, so thankful to be here at this point. The cervix is 2.5 cm but soft like Jell-O and the physicians can feel the baby's head right there. There's a possibility I may be 1 cm dilated. I am having about four contractions an hour--which make for some interesting pauses during conference calls, let me tell you.
Anything can happen, folks.
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Friday, September 12, 2014
Brother. It is a little ironic that the one celebration that you could/wanted to spend with us on your actual birthday in a very, very long time didn't end up happening because I got scared and went to the hospital. I feel bad that you were hanging around near the restaurant for hours was while I was hooked up to monitors trying to figure out if those contractions were real and if I was leaking amniotic fluid (not really and no, everything turned out to be fine; it just took a really long time to confirm).
As much as you would never admit it, I know it's going to be different when this baby comes. Your wants and needs have been first priority for so much of the past three decades--how could they not? I don't resent you for it; I worry about you as much as mom and dad do. I know you have been wiggling out from under the parental blanket of concern for a long time, and you've done an exceptional job proving that you are your own man who can handle your own business. We don't need to worry, but it's not something we can turn off.
It has been tremendously hard for me the past few months to be the person that isn't allowed to help, can't even get up from a chair without extreme difficulty and is basically at the mercy of everyone else. The biggest lesson I've learned during the last few years is that apparently I can't control everything, which was clear to you since you were just a baby. It's probably just as hard for you to now be the one worrying, waiting for a call that everything is ok...or not. We've both done a lot of growing up in the last few years.