If this is TMI - I apologize. Feel free to stop reading at any point, but I promise to try not to make it too...eww...for my readers.
Wednesday throughout the day I kept thinking, and telling people, how I could tell this bed rest thing was working. I still had lower pelvic pain any time I walked or moved, but because I was moving as little as possible the pain wasn't as sharp or severe when I did have it. I took this as a blessing and a curse - because I guess secretly I was hoping bed rest would do nothing and I wouldn't have to stay on it, but I was also glad that it did seem to be working.
Then I started having lower back cramps, like menstrual cramps, a couple of times that day. I called the nurse, as the doctor had ordered, and the nurse asked me if I had been having contractions. I thought the word "contractions" was debatable because while I had been having what my doctor described as contractions, I just didn't feel like they could possibly be real because they weren't painful. Isn't labor supposed to be painful? I guess this is what you get for basing your entire knowledge on a subject on movies - all I envision is women screaming in pain, telling their husbands "YOU DID THIS TO ME" and pulling them by their necktie demanding an epidural immediately. I wasn't in any more pain than usual, so how could I be having contractions? So I told the nurse that I wasn't 100% sure if what I was experiencing was contractions, and asked her to describe the symptoms again. She did, and I let her know that yes I had in fact had contractions. I said I was certain they weren't more than one or two in an hour, but she wanted me to monitor them for an hour and monitor how long they lasted; if there were more than 4 in one hour I was to call back.
I monitored for 2 hours and there were 11. You may be wondering why I didn't immediately call when there were 6 in the first hour, but a couple of them I was still in disbelief about...thought those surely weren't contractions, I had just been imagining something, so I ignored them. But after they kept coming in the second hour Austin insisted I call the on-call doctor. It wasn't my doctor who was on call that night, so I had to catch her up on some of the conversations that Dr. Russell and I have had over the past week. She said she couldn't be sure of anything, but that something obviously made me think I needed to call so she would like me to go to the hospital. Yay.
Down to Sky Ridge we went. I felt pretty ridiculous the entire way there and as I was being admitted, again because I was in no pain. Women who enter the hospital in labor are supposed to be screaming, bent over in pain, pants wet from their water breaking...I was none of those, and I don't even LOOK like I'm ready to have a baby. I think the admissions clerk even thought I was crazy...or maybe I was just paranoid, it's hard to say. He got my name and luckily I didn't have any forms to fill out because my information was already on file from my LAST ER visit. What a drama queen I must have become. He asked me to wait in the waiting area and the nurse would be down to get me.
He didn't tell me it'd be in a wheelchair! Ok Ok I know hospitals have their procedures and steps they have to take, but a wheelchair? Really? I've never ridden in a wheelchair besides when my brothers and I would play in my dad's wheelchair...and let me tell you, I don't like the experience. First of all it is not a very fluid form of transportation. The turns seemed very rigid and I felt ridiculous. Here I am, in no pain, some may say I look 6 months pregnant, just smiling away and I'm being wheeled around? I just felt like it was a little over done. But - I didn't argue, I just did what I was told. I'm pretty good at that. sometimes :)
Once we got in the triage area and I got changed into my lovely garb the nurse attached me to the fetal monitor to check his heart rate and monitor my contractions. I had been on a fetal monitor last Friday at my doctor appointment for 20 minutes and only had one tiny contraction, but this time I had 4 in the first 45 minutes that I was attached to the monitor. Quite a change in just a few days. The nurse berated me with questions (like do you have any tattoos, what is your occupation, religious preference, have you had alcohol, smoked, or done drugs during this pregnancy, etc...lots of random questions, some seemed applicable some not so much) and once she was done with her interrogation she said she'd examine me.
Up until this point she was like any other nurse. From this point on, however, Austin and I both felt like she showed her immaturity in her career and didn't seem to have much experience. We could be wrong, what do we know really, but she just seemed to be a lot more frantic and unsure of things than the other nurses.
She did the exam and determine that I was 2 cm dilated, which is .5 more than last Friday, and 80% effaced. I didn't know what effaced was, so I asked her to explain it to me, but I was more confused after she finished her explanation than before. My doctor hadn't mentioned effacement last Friday, so I can't compare it to what it was before, but she did seem extremely shocked at how low William's head is already. Extremely shocked. Like she'd never seen it before in her life. Not the most comforting for a mom hoping to carry her baby for at least 2.5 more weeks. Then she gives me what I THINK was supposed to be a compliment, but I don't really know for sure. She said "well, you have a GREAT laboring cervix. That's just not what we want to see at 34 weeks" So I guess it'd be a compliment if we were having that conversation sometime after Feb 1, but for now its not?
She took probably 3 times as long during her exam as my doctor had during hers last week, and it was a LOT more uncomfortable. During that time another contraction started, and it continued for a lot longer than the others had. I'm not sure if the increased discomfort and the length were initiated by her cervical exam or not, but William seemed to enjoy this as much as I did - as his heart rate dropped during the contraction. The nurse was readjusting my bands around my stomach, I was very uncomfortable, and she was talking about shots and other things she was going to do - then suddenly she grabs a phone out of her pocket and says "I need a shot if T_____ for Wallis NOW. NOW" Hmm. ok, again, not the most comforting. 2 more nurses rush in, one gives me a shot, the other asks me about 10 times in 20 seconds if I've had any bleeding or spotting in the past couple of days, and they put an oxygen mask around my face. William's heart rate quickly came back to normal, and the head nurse stayed with me for a few minutes to make sure it was stable. She told me the shot would make me feel like I had "downed a few red bulls" and I may feel jittery. I asked her what the rush was about, and why I had to wear the oxygen mask (which I found I hated more than the wheelchair...I have a new appreciation for what my dad endured for 4 years...seeing as all I've done is ride in a wheelchair, take a couple shots, and wear an oxygen mask and I'm already a whiny baby) The nurse let me know about his heart rate and said the oxygen was to make sure that as much got through the placenta to him as possible. Apparently babies can get upset by cervical exams at times, and the pressure from the contraction probably just pissed him off?????
Anyhow, things were stable, the nurses went on a shift change (thankfully) and we got a new nurse, Sara, who took care of us for the next couple of hours. A male nurse came in at one point to take my blood - and let me tell you, he was not the best at it. He seemed to think he was a cool guy, and I wanted so badly to burst his bubble. Luckily for him, the oxygen mask made communication more difficult and I only talked when necessary. I stayed on the oxygen for the rest of the stay, the nurse came in every few minutes to look at the monitor and make sure the medicine had stopped the contractions, which it had, and she did another cervical exam. She, however, did it twice as FAST as my doctor had, which I was thankful for, and she determined that I was 2 cm and 80% - so, the same results as the first nurse. That's good I suppose - better than more progress, and I'm not sure if people go backwards so I took it as a good thing.
She was in communication throughout the evening with the on call doctor at my OB office and kept her updated on what was going on. The doctor said she wanted me to begin taking Procardia, a pill I have to take every 4 hours that is meant to relax muscles and keep contractions at bay. I had my first dose at the hospital and then she got my pharmacy number from me so the doctor could call in a prescription for me to pick up on my way home.
At about 8:00 the nurse came in with a turkey sandwich and a bag of chips. I hadn't eaten since noon, and I thought she was an angel sent from heaven. How did she know how starving I was??? Then she says "Your husband came and asked if you could eat. We're not supposed to give the food to people who aren't staying overnight, but I figure it's ok your baby is probably hungry too" How sweet is he?? Kudos Austin.
Shortly after I finished my sandwich the nurse returned to let me know that the doctor had called my prescription in, and that my pharmacy closed at 9:00 so we needed to hurry and get there in time so I could take my next dose at 11:00. Austin went to pull the car around while I changed and was discharged, and then I got my lovely wheelchair ride back out.
As we were exiting the triage area I heard a woman WAILING in labor. Now THAT is what I thought contractions were supposed to be like...although I think I'll take the unpainful ones over the agony she was in. All in due time I suppose. On our way out we passed by the cool-guy nurse, who seemed to be flirting with a nurse who was way too pretty for him. He took one look at me and said "Hey, wait one minute, where are you headed? Home? Oh please! Two hours ago it was "oh the oxygen mask, help me help me, emergency" and now you're going home? Lame!" Obviously he was trying to be funny...but I wanted to let him know that not only was he not funny, nor was he as cute and cool as he thought he was, but also that he should take his comedic efforts and direct them at being a better blood-drawer. That, however, is what he's paid for...and he sucked as much at that as he did at comedy.
Again, I decided to bite my tongue, flash him a fake smile and a little glare, and continue on my ride to the exit doors. Sara said "ignore him, he's a sarcastic ass" I just smiled. Once we were out of the exit doors I could walk again - and that made me happy :)
It's Friday now - I started writing this yesterday but never posted it. I have another appointment with the doctor today at 11:30 to find out what we will do from here. Because she wasn't the one who prescribed the procardia, I'm not sure if she'll want me to continue to take it for the next week or two, or if she'll want me to stop taking it today. She may decide she wants to give William steroids for his lungs (which I hope, and doubt, come in the form of a pill not a needle), she may decide she wants to call my bed rest "full bed rest", or she may decide to do an ultrasound to see if William is big enough to just let him come naturally whenever he's ready. Sunday we'll be 35 weeks and generally they like you to be 36 or 37, but the nurse said sometimes if babies are big enough doctors are comfortable at 35 - so it just depends on where we are and what her professional decision is. At this point the only real concern is his lung development - and that concern will fade over the next week, so maybe she'd decide to just let William dictate the show? As much as I don't want the worry of a premature baby, I also do NOT like this medicine that I am taking and I'd like to be done with it. But - I suppose waking up every 4 hours is good practice huh?
So I'll keep you posted. Hey - its Friday, I made it through one week of bed rest...things are good!
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