Why Ian Michael?

With the exception of a very few people (my sister being one of them), we kept the name a secret this time until baby's big debut. With Ava, we weren't shy about sharing the name at all. As soon as we decided, we let the world know. This time, it was different, and we're not sure why. We just decided to keep it close to our chests. But now that he's here, a lot of folks are wondering why Ian Michael? Where did that come from? I'm not sure if that should be translated into what-in-hell-were-you-thinking, but we LOVE the name and have come to adore it even more as we've gotten to know our little bundle. There are several reasons behind his name, and most are intentional. But there are a few coincidences that we weren't aware of until after we chose his name, and that just makes it even better. And just to clarify, it's Ian as in E-an, not Ian as in Eye-an.

1. Ian loosely translates into "God is gracious." And boy, is He ever!
2. Ian is Scottish for John. Neither of us are Scottish, but John is one of Stefan's favorite books in the bible.
3. Ian is not a very popular boys name right now.
4. Ian is short, but two syllables, so this fulfills two criteria: it has two syllables to go with a one-syllable last name, and it is short enough that you can't form a nickname from it (Stefan is not a fan of nicknames and to this day still prefers to call me Jacklyn).
5. We love the way it sounds.
6. Ian is a good boy's name, but it is also a good adult name, so it will grow with him. Just like Ava's name will grow with her.
7. Ian is one boy's name that doesn't ring a bell to Stefan. He knows no one with this name, and therefore couldn't shoot it down with the classic "I knew a guy once with that name, and he was a real jerk, so no way are we naming our kid that."

As for Michael, there is no rhyme or reason to it. It sounds good between Ian and Blum.

Ian's First Doctor's Visit

Ian had his first visit with the doctor this morning at 4 days old. He is continuing to do very well, and his weight was 5 pounds, 1 ounce, which is the same weight he was when we were discharged from the hospital. After losing only one ounce since birth, the doctor said it looks like his weight has stabilized and we should start to see a gain from here on out. Great news for our little guy! His umbilical cord and circumcision are healing well and on schedule, and he is not showing any signs of jaundice. All good things! His next appointment is at the 2-week mark, and until then, we just keep on doing what we're doing. I am most happy with his minimal weight loss, which is proof-positive that the nursing is going well.

I continue to get very little sleep, as the nursing is very taxing and time consuming. It is working for now because I have Stefan home to help with Ava and household chores, like washing dishes and laundry. The real test will come when he heads back to work. If I collapse under the strains of breastfeeding while trying to care for two children and maintain a home, I will switch to formula without hesitation. I think I am averaging about 4-5 hours of sleep a day, with my longest stretch being a two-hour nap during the afternoon when Ava is napping and the baby is sleeping.

I still can't believe the baby is here. Just this afternoon, I walked into our guest bedroom, where my contraction monitor and terbutaline pump still sit, completely idle. I saw them and it was a very strange feeling. Ava continues to be an absolute angel around the baby. She says hi, bye-bye and night-night to the baby, and when she touches him, she gently strokes him. I know the downfall is coming, but for now, we are enjoying the honeymoon period.

Thank You

Stefan and I owe an enormous amount of gratitude to so many people for so many things. These past 9 weeks have been such a challenging journey, and now that it's over, we don't really have time to catch our breaths because a new (more wonderful!) journey has begun. But for now, we just wanted to thank everyone for their thoughts and prayers during this time. We were on countless prayer chains and a part of so many daily prayers. So many of you thought of us and cheered us on. Whether you prayed, thought of, or cheered, thank you. God has poured on us with so many blessings that we aren't quite sure how to deal with all of the goodness in our lives. Our prayers were answered, and we want you to know that you were a part of something truly amazing.

Ian is doing incredibly well for his second full day of life. His APGAR scores were 8 and 9 - AMAZING! He came out with a scream and I was never so happy to hear a cry in my life. They placed him on my belly and Stefan was able to experience his first umbilical cord cutting. Ian has stayed with me in my room, which has been a treat, but the nurses did keep him in the nursery from 1 - 6 a.m. this morning so I could get 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep after more than 48 hours without a wink. His only "hiccup" has been feedings, which he was spitting up a lot of. But today he has only had wet burps. We are supplementing with a "sensitive" formula until we can get the hang of nursing, and overall, it's a whole new learning experience for both of us. Everything with Ava was so different. I'm a first-time mom all over again. It's going to rock our world when we take this little man home tomorrow!

Introducing Ian Michael Blum

Ian Michael Blum
December 22, 2008
2:12 a.m.
5 pounds, 2 ounces
19.5 Inches

30 Minutes or it could be a few hours - ?

Dad's back. Jackie indulged me in a cat nap. I awoke to the noise of staff and a baby check. Jackie is now at 7 cm dilated and the baby is now "very low." In OB terms that means - it could be 30 minutes or it could be a few hours. And we thought weather men had easy jobs! Don't laugh that attempt at humor wasn't really funny.

So, with this new info you can expect that the next post well be delivery news.

Water Broke

At 10:55 the midwife broke Jackie's water. Baby looks great on the monitors. Next door delivered and the poor lady stop screaming. We are not too far behind - with delivery.

The Woman Across the Hall

There is this poor woman delivering across the hall from me right now and she is screaming bloody murder. Even through closed doors and a blaring TV, we can still hear her screams. Why don't they make delivery rooms with sound-proof walls?

It is 9:30 p.m. and I have dilated one more centimeter. Three hours of labor to go one centimeter, from 4 to 5. Boy, talk about two totally different labor stories. I've had one round of antibiotics for the Group B Strep, and my midwife Mia said after about one more hour she will break my water if it hasn't ruptured on its own. They like for the antibiotics to be in my system for 4 hours before delivery, and 11 p.m. will be that mark. Once my water is broken, labor will progress much quicker.

I am tolerating the contractions pretty well right now, but my lower back has been killing me. Thank goodness for husbands who can give amazing back rubs! We are watching Sunday Night Football right now, and we just got done watching A Christmas Story on DVD. I am starving because I haven't eaten anything since 1 p.m.

It is for real!

Well we are here. Jackie is in the early stages of labor. Four cm dilated, IV in, medical staff at the ready. I think we knew right away when we entered the room. In the past we have been admitted to a small, cozy room with lots of character. In real estate terms that translates to a dungeon. Not this time, no this time the room is fabulous. Okay, so it is as fabulous as a hospital room can be. It is about the size of our living room, not a closet. It is new, clean, decorated, lots of space and a bench for me (dad) to sleep on. Although I highly doubt I will see any sleep tonight.

Jackie has asked me to post so I will. At least that was what we agreed to on once we agreed on the difference between labor and delivery. Labor - I'll post. Delivery - I won't.

Thirty-six weeks and one day. Today is one of the best days of the year for me since it is the shortest day of the year and from now on the days get longer. Soon I will have another source of sunshine.

Is This for Real?

The cramps haven't gone away. The doctor wants to see me, although neither of us feel this is true labor. It is probably a false alarm, although with my history, it's not worth the risk. So here we go. Is this it???

Labor? Well that didn't take long.

36 weeks and 1 day.

We made it to 36 weeks! Our goal! Now I can be excited for the baby's arrival instead of scared. I can embrace labor instead of trying to stop it. I can forget about having another preemie and focus on counting down the days until we have a new bundle of joy to hold and cuddle. Life is good.

One other thing that makes me happy about being 36 weeks pregnant is the "graduation" to the highest check box level on the hospital admission form. When I have gone to the hospital these past few months and completed the initial admission form at the front desk, I've always had to mark the "scary" box: 20 - 35 weeks. This basically translates into "Stop the labor!" Now that we can check the 36 week+ box, it means, "Congratulations, you're about to have a baby." I like my new status.

I removed the terbutaline pump last night at exactly 10:06 p.m. This was very scary for me because in a sense it was like turning off the life support. I knew that once I turned off that pump I was on my own. But it was also very freeing. I set the pump on the desk and walked upstairs to bed. This morning I could shower without all of the paraphernalia needed to keep the pump dry. During my final contraction monitoring with the nursing company last night, I had 5 contractions in one hour. That's still one less than my hourly threshold of 6, but way more than I've been experiencing recently. Last night, I didn't sleep well at all, as I was tossing and turning wondering if I was contracting or just cramping. This morning, the cramping has continued, but it's been weird. What I have been feeling doesn't constitute a textbook contraction - lasting 40+ seconds. But these cramps have been coming frequently - every 3 to 4 minutes - and last 10 - 15 seconds. Then they go away and come back. I called my doctor and they want me to monitor them closely for a few hours to see if anything changes in intensity or frequency. If so, they want us to come to the hospital. So I have been laying here for the past 90 minutes evaluating every cramp, twinge and contraction. Nothing is falling into a pattern, but these pesky cramps are still hanging around. Is this the beginning of labor? This would be so much easier if I had experienced labor with Ava.

It's Not Labor, It's Pregnancy

35 weeks and 5 days.

I feel like I am pregnant for the first time all over again. When I was pregnant with Ava, she came so early that I never had the opportunity to experience all of those late-pregnancy symptoms. And until now it didn't really occur to me that the reason I've been feeling like crap is probably because I'm nearly 36 weeks pregnant and carrying a 5+ pound human being in my abdomen who likes to stretch out to the furthest confines of my rib cage. I just keep blaming my irritable uterus. My stomach is in my throat, or at least it feels like it is. My intestines have stuffed themselves into a 2-inch-square space where my stomach used to be. It's no wonder I end each day with two Tums and a glass of Metamucil. But I'm not complaining... I'm just trying to convince myself that every cramp or pressure is no reason to freak out. It's not labor, it's pregnancy. So I'm learning to cope. Today, I ate a snack every 2 hours instead of three meals, and tonight, I'm not crampy or feeling like I am going to explode.

Baby has been very active today. So active that I wouldn't doubt it if he flipped himself back to breech again. I hope not, but it really wouldn't surprise me. On the positive side, it's great that he's so active. I love feeling him wriggle around inside me. It's one of the very few things I will miss about being pregnant. I have never been one of those pregnant women who can tell what body part is poking me, but it doesn't matter. I'm just the proud mommy who's happy to be poked!

I pre-ordered birth announcements today so that I can get the envelopes early and (hopefully) get them addressed before the baby arrives.

Down, Boy

35 weeks and 4 days.

Today we had a doctor's appointment with my primary obstetrician, Dr. Jenny Jo. It was a very important appointment because we needed to discuss the possibility of discontinuing medications, bed rest, and potential c-section scenarios. When she walked into the room, she exclaimed, "You're overdue!" I laughed at her joke but wanted to cry. The light is at the end of the tunnel, and I can see it so clearly now. After checking my cervix, Dr. Jo pointed out that the head was down. I was thrilled to hear this, but slightly surprised because in the past week I don't remember feeling the big turn. I had done this exercise a couple of times during the week that is supposed to encourage breech babies to turn down, but I was far from consistent in doing it. I basically got on all fours and stuck my butt as high in the air as I could get it. The buoyancy is supposed to encourage the baby to flip. I don't think I did it enough to make a difference. But sure enough, baby boy's head was down - a quick ultrasound proved it. There's no guarantee he'll stay there, but this late in the game, most babies assume the position and stay there. So Stefan and I breathed a collective sigh of relief and thanked God for one more answered prayer.

Next we talked about medications. The progesterone injection I received yesterday was, in fact, my last. We discussed my terbutaline pump, and I explained how the contractions and cramping have been increasing these past few days. It's obvious that the terbutaline's effectiveness is beginning to wean for the second time. The magnesium sulfate "wash" did its job and bought us another two weeks, but as we approach 36 weeks, the risks of continued terbutaline therapy begin to outweigh the benefits. So Dr. Jo said it was time to stop using the pump and let myself go. We agreed that I would turn the pump off this Saturday, when I hit 36 weeks. Dr. Jo said I could stop the pump today, but I was apprehensive about that because I feel in my heart of hearts that the moment I turn off that pump, labor will ensue very rapidly. It may not, but my goal is to get to 36 weeks, and I am so close. I know I can get there. If I can hold on just a couple more days with the pump, I won't be so scared about removing it. So this Saturday - 36 weeks - I will remove the pump and probably get really anxious about going into labor. But regardless of my fears and anxieties, I have to remember what this really means: it means that we are very close to reaching our goal of delivering a healthy baby boy as close to full term as possible. When I started getting progesterone injections at 16 weeks, this week seemed forever away. And now it's come and gone. Wow. I almost can't comprehend it.

As for bed rest, I am still on it until 37 weeks, or another week and a half. This means I will be on bed rest for Christmas... if I'm not in the hospital. Santa will need to get creative for sure! Ten more days on the sofa. I can do this. Now if I could just do something about the cramps, heartburn and constipation...

The 36th Week

35 weeks and 3 days.

Each week, I receive an e-mail about the baby's development in the womb. Today, I got my e-mail about what's going on this week... the 36th week. Just like weeks 34 - 35, we've never seen this week. In fact, today, 35 weeks and 3 days, marks the day we brought Ava home from the hospital after spending 3 weeks in the NICU. I can't believe it. I can't believe we've made it this far. I am so happy I could just jump up and down... if I was able to jump up and down. This weekly update provided another source of relief for us, as we learned the baby is mature enough for delivery. Not that I want to deliver this baby today, but if I did, we'd be OK. What a fabulous feeling. Thank you, God!

Your baby's skull isn't the only soft structure in his or her little body. Most of your baby's bones and cartilage are quite soft as well (they'll harden over the first few years of life) — allowing for an easier journey as your baby squeezes through the birth canal at delivery (and less prodding and poking for Mom along the way). The skull bones are also not fused together yet so that the head can easily (well, relatively easily) maneuver through the birth canal. So your little bruiser (who you've now learned won't be bruising you all that much with those soft bones) is now about six pounds in weight and measures slightly more than 20 inches in length. Growth will experience a slowdown now, both so your baby will be able to fit the narrow passageway to the outside and also so he or she can store up all the energy needed for delivery.

By now, many of your baby's systems are pretty mature, at least in baby terms — and just about ready for life on the outside. Blood circulation, for instance, has been perfected and your baby's immune system has matured enough to protect him or her from infections outside the womb. Other systems, however, still need a few finishing touches. Once such notable example: digestion — which actually won't be fully mature until sometime after birth. Why's that? Inside his or her little gestational cocoon, your baby has relied on the umbilical cord for nutrition, meaning that the digestive system — though developed — hasn't been operational. So your baby will take the first year or two to bring that system up to speed.

Yesterday I felt very pregnant. I looked in the mirror and did a double-take at my reflection. I was huge! It was the first time in a long time I felt as pregnant as I am. I am gaining weight - finally - and it looks like baby boy is also packing on some pounds, although I don't think he weighs the 6+ pounds this e-mail says he does.

Daaaaa-deeeeee!

35 weeks and 2 days.

Still pregnant, thank you God. But today I have felt icky. I have monitored my contractions four times today just because I haven't felt good and can't tell if it's my stomach or contractions. I am averaging about four contractions an hour, and most of the nurses I have spoken with have told me that's pretty par for the course for any woman at 35.5 weeks. But for the past four days, I have averaged only 1-2 contractions per hour. So even though I am on par with other 35 weekers and still well below my hourly contraction threshold of eight contractions, something tells me we're getting closer to showtime. I go for a progesterone injection tomorrow morning.

As if Ava already didn't have Stefan and I wrapped around her finger, she has found another way to melt our hearts and turn us into putty. She has started calling for her daddy when she wants or needs him, using the sweetest sounds to turn "daddy" into an eight-syllable word. "Daaaaaa-deeeee," she'll yell from the living room where she is playing by herself. And she continues to repeat this with consistent tones until Stefan responds. Usually, she wants help with a toy or to take turns drawing on her Aquadoodle. She's even started calling for daddy when she wakes up. No more playing quietly in her bed for a few minutes. She goes right for the jugular... "Daaaaaa-deeeeee!" I can't help but chuckle every time. It is the sweetest thing ever. This little girl loves her daddy, that's for sure.

35 Weeks!

35 weeks and 1 day.

35 is my new favorite number. And if baby and I can make it another 6 days, 36 will be my new, new favorite number. The baby's suck-swallow reflex should be mature by now, and his lungs are continuing to get stronger. By this week, the books say he should be around 6 pounds and 21 inches long. I'm not sure he's quite that big, but if he's over 5 pounds at this point I'm happy.

I am feeling fantastic - fewer contractions, less cramping, bigger appetite, improved state of mind. Ever since my doctor told me I could begin easing myself off of bed rest, I have been feeling so much better all around. The baby has been very active, but I'm not sure he's turned down. And as much as the nesting instinct has kicked in, I think I've done a good job of controlling myself and limiting my activity. I've helped put up a few Christmas decorations, and I helped Stefan clean up the playroom last night. Otherwise, I've been sitting or laying on the couch. It's also been nice eating meals at the table with the family.

Christmas is just 11 days away, and this morning I asked Stefan if he thought the baby would arrive before or after Christmas. He said before, and although there isn't much time between now and Christmas day, I can't help but agree with him. I suspect we will darken the hospital's doorstep within hours of being taken off the progesterone and terbutaline, which could be this week. Those two drugs are the only things keeping me together at this point, but we'll see.

We have been reading to Ava a book about becoming a big sister, and every time Stefan or I mentions the word "baby," Ava pats her belly. We ask her where mommy's baby is, and she pats my belly.

The nursery is almost complete, thanks to Stefan, my sister and Bo. We still need to hang the quilt over the crib and sterilize some bottles and pacifiers. I also have some curtains that match the bedding, but I'm not sure if I'm going to hang them. I'd like to, but between rods and valances and everything else, I'm just intimidated by the whole window treatment process. I love the nursery. It's simple, cozy and well-stocked. We're ready for baby, but we prefer he stay tucked inside for at least another week or two.

Tagged, I Think

I was called out on my friend Lisa's blog to post a picture - the fourth picture from my fourth album on my computer. So here it is. This picture was just taken in June, about one week before we left Utah for Georgia. Ava was 18 months old here, and we were playing at a park near my friend Tracy's home. The fresh boo-boo on Ava's cheek is the result of a self-inflicted scratch during nap time. When I saw this picture, I was amazed at how it was just taken 6 months ago. Ava looks so young! It's crazy how much she's grown in such a short amount of time. Sigh...

So now I think I'm supposed to tag people to do the same thing. Tracy, Stephani, Liz... you're it! Post the fourth picture from your fourth album.

The Crystal Ball

34 weeks and 6 days.

Being on bed rest these past eight weeks has given me plenty of time to think. This has been a good thing, and this has been a not-so-good thing. I've thought a lot about life, and how simple it truly is. My perspective on what's important has changed dramatically, and my priorities have shifted seismically. I feel I will exit this stage a stronger, more balanced person, which could never be a bad thing. I'm still on a modified form of bed rest, so we're not completely out of the woods just yet. But as we enter "the safe zone," a lot of the same questions I've agonized over these past 50+ days still linger. I can't help but think that if we had known all this time that I would make it to at least 35 weeks, would I have stressed less and enjoyed more? Probably. But even though I have made it this far, I am still fixated on a date. When? When will this baby arrive? When will I go into labor? When, when, when? And then I thought about whether I would really, truly, want to know the answer.

God is the only one who knows. It's His plan, after all. And as a Christian I know His plan is perfect and good. He has that magical crystal ball that I have so desperately wanted to see. I could look into this crystal ball and see everything so clearly, so perfectly. I would see God's roadmap for my life - and everyone else's - and understand how a billion different roads all going in different directions could somehow merge in the very end to create one, seamless pathway to the Promised Land. I would know everything. I would finally know the answer to my "when."

Suppose God allowed me to glimpse into His crystal ball. In an instant I would be able to have all of my questions answered. But do I really want that? I can honestly say no, I wouldn't. I don't want to know when I am going to die, who my children will marry, what I will make of the rest of my life. Because not only would that turn my life into a giant countdown clock, but it would also take away the journey. There's a reason why God doesn't allow us to look into His crystal ball. He knows we're better off without it. He knows we're better off letting Him stay at the controls. I am simply along for the ride, and I will try to take the lessons He's taught me and turn them into something that will bring Him glory - something I probably wouldn't do if I had access to that crystal ball.

I still wonder when. But after thinking about it for a long time, I know I'm better off not knowing anything.

Ava's Two Year Doctor's Visit

Stefan took Ava to her 2-year well-child doctor's visit this morning, and Ava met her new pediatrician, Dr. Catherine Bowman. It was a very eventful visit, complete with a vision test, and Ava passed with flying colors. As usual, her height and weight gain followed the previous patterns. She is 34.5 inches tall, in the 68th percentile for kids her age. But her weight is only 23.5 pounds, which is in the 9th percentile. Ava continues to be long-n-lean. The doctor told Stefan that if we hadn't told her Ava was a preemie then she would have never guessed. Ava's development is right on par with other 2 year olds, which is a huge relief for Stefan and I. Ava is reciting her alphabet by repeating after us, and she is getting better with her numbers. She loves her colors, too, and knows that orange goes best with blue (we couldn't resist).

While at the doctor, Ava's bunny received a complete exam, too. Bunny got her ears and eyes checked, her heart listened to, and even got a "boo-boo" bandage. Unfortunately, Ava wasn't able to escape without a poke to her thigh. She didn't need any vaccinations, but she did receive her flu vaccination. Stefan said she was a good sport, although if I know my daughter, I know drama will ensue.

Happy Birthday, Ava Lauren

My sweet, sweet baby girl. You're two!

Exactly two years ago, at 1:34 p.m., you entered the world and changed it forever. I will never forget that beautiful and scary moment. You have grown and changed so much in such a short period of time, that it's hard to believe you were ever so tiny and so dependent and so fragile. You have changed our lives and our hearts - all for the better, and every time we look at you, we see the face of God staring right back at us. You are the most precious gift I ever could have ever received, and I am so humbled that God chose us as your parents. I can only hope that we raise you to bring Him glory and honor.

If the past two years are any indication of what's to come, then I can't wait to share every moment with you. You have brought such a tremendous joy and focus into our lives, and I find it hard to believe that I actually existed before you entered my world. I love having you as my daughter, and I will always love you no matter what.

So happy, happy birthday, Ava. Many more, and may each one be better than the last. We love you so very much.

A Graduation of Sorts

34 weeks and 3 days.

These days, I have a standard response when people ask me how I'm doing: "I'm still pregnant!" is what I say. Because really, is there anything more important than that? Oh, to be 34.5 weeks. A true blessing.

At my doctor's appointment this morning, I received what may be my final progesterone injection. I still may get one more, but maybe not. My cervix is still holding steady at a beautiful 1.5cm dilated and 2.5cm long, and everything looks good. My doctor instructed me to very gradually begin to rejoin the world of the living. I am still on a very modified bed rest plan, but I am now supposed to sit upright more often now, and I can even take a shower everyday if I want to (instead of every 2 or 3 days). I should sit at the table to eat now (the table!) instead of laying down. The point is that as I get further along, there is concern that the strict bed rest plan I have been confined to can actually do more harm than good. Blood clots become a serious concern, as does muscle degeneration. I still shouldn't lift Ava, and I still can't care for her all by myself, but at least now I can sit up and actually play with her. I couldn't believe my ears. I can slowly start to reclaim my life. I can go upstairs and sleep in my bed. And for the first time tonight - after over a month - I will climb the stairs and see for the first time our baby's nursery. I am almost giddy with excitement. I just hope seeing the nursery doesn't kick my nesting urge into overdrive. The last thing I need to be doing is rearranging furniture and cleaning out the pantry. God, please give me discipline.

In addition to a less-extreme form of bed rest, I also "graduated" from my perinatologist this morning. Appointments with the specialists are no longer necessary, especially since continued poking and prodding "down there" will do little more than agitate things. Besides, what difference does it make how long my cervix is if they won't do anything to prevent it from changing? Is it possible that I can start feeling like a normal pregnant woman? Wow, now there's a divine concept!

Now, of course, I couldn't let go of one concern without grabbing hold of another. Baby boy is still breech, and we're running out of time for him to turn down on his own. There's still a chance for him to do it on his own, but for the first time today, my doctor mentioned the possibility of a C-section. Oh dear. There are some procedures that can be performed to turn him, but there are as many risks as there are benefits associated with them, and there's no guarantee that they would even be successful. We don't need to make a decision now, but within the next week, if he doesn't turn down, we will need to rethink our birth plan. I am trying not to focus on that right now and simply relish in the moment that I am graduating from bed rest slowly but surely. I swear I can hear "Pomp and Circumstance" being played in the distance.

Home and Happy

34 weeks and 1 day.

I have been home since Friday night and am doing well. My doctor gave me the choice of remaining in the hospital for the duration of my pregnancy, but I was feeling good on Friday and decided to come home. The primary reason for this decision was Ava. Her second birthday this week. Her third Christmas. I would have missed it all if I had stayed. So I came home without regrets and am praying that God gives me a crystal clear sign that it's time to go back to the hospital. Worst-case scenario, I call an ambulance. It's not desirable, but now that we have reached the 34 week mark - the "late-preterm" stage - a lot of the fear has subsided.

A few weeks ago, when I was admitted to the hospital with labor and a dilation, the doctors said they wanted to get me to 34 weeks. Now that I am here (praise God), I want more. I want 36 weeks. But no one knows if we'll make it. Every day is one more day. I am getting very efficient at changing my terbutaline pump syringe, which I do about twice a day. I don't even need the manual anymore. Changing the pump site, however, is a different story. I am not one to get squeamish around needles, but I am so uncomfortable sticking myself with one. It's a very small needle, but it is still a very unnerving experience. I'm getting better at it and only have trouble removing the needle while still leaving the catheter in-tact. Luckily, I only have to do it every 5 days. And if I can stay pregnant, I'll only have to do it two more times before they take me off the meds completely and let me go free!

We gave Ava her birthday present today - an adorable play kitchen. Her official birthday isn't until Tuesday, but with my fragile state, there are no guarantees I'll be here. And it was so important for me to see her little face light up when Stefan brought her downstairs this morning and she saw it for the first time. She loves it and played with it all day. Throughout the day, Ava brought to us imaginary culinary creations and fed us with her toy dishes. Every time we asked her what we were eating, she had the same response: "milk!" I did order a Winnie the Pooh cake from Publix, and we'll have that on Tuesday to celebrate our little girl turning two. I hate that we were unable to throw her a big party this year, but our circumstances just wouldn't allow it. I guess we'll just have to make up for it next year.

All Bullets Fired

33 weeks and 4 days.

I have been off of the magnesium sulfate for 12 hours now. There are potential harmful side effects for both me and the baby if the mag is used long term, so after 32 hours, they stopped the IV, and restarted my terbutaline pump. I was still having contractions, even on the magnesium, so at this point it's not as much about contractions as it is about what those contractions do to my cervix. They call it a mag "wash" because the magnesium is supposed to wash the body free of all receptors from previous treatments. We are hoping the terbutaline pump will start to work for me again, even if it's just for a little while.

The magnesium sulfate is pretty much the final draw in contraction management. Of course there may be some stronger meds out there, but at this stage of the game, the risk of taking those meds outweighs the benefits. So now we begin maintenance mode... I hold on as long as I can. But the doctors said that if I start showing signs of true labor from this point forward, they will allow me to deliver. There's little else I can do. I find both comfort and fear in that fact, for the obvious reasons.

There is still no clear-cut answer as to exactly how long my stay at Hotel Northside Hospital is going to last. As far as I'm concerned, these are my options:

1. I could be here for the duration of my pregnancy, which could be 1 day or 1 month.

2. I could be here until they take me off all medications - the progesterone and the terbutaline - and bed rest, which will be around 35 weeks, God willing I make it that far.

3. I could be here until I am stable enough on the terbutaline, but at this point, what exactly does "stable" mean in my case?

For the time being, I have officially taken on the role of "Lady in Waiting." I could have our baby tonight, or it could be weeks.

Finding a Way

33 weeks and 3 days.

I have not journaled in five days. As much as I wanted to blog at least every other day - whether they were good days or bad days- I just couldn't do it. It was too emotionally and physically painful. These past five days I have been a prisoner in my own personal hell. I was discharged from the hospital last Wednesday, Thanksgiving Eve. They set me up with an at-home nursing company contact, a new T-pump and a contraction monitor. I felt pretty comfortable going home, especially with all of the medical paraphernalia, but once I got there, something went wrong in my mind. When do I change my pump syringe again? How do I transmit my contraction data? What if my pump site goes bad and I don't get the meds and I contract and can't get back to the hospital in time? What if I go into labor and don't know it? Thoughts of Ava's very early and very fast arrival started swarming in my head, and all of a sudden I was experiencing a level of acute paranoia and stress that I have never felt before. I woke up the first night home after just an hour's sleep in the midst of a panic attack. I was sick. I was stressed. I was cramping. I didn't sleep a wink the rest of the night.

The next four days were not much different. I was unable to eat. I couldn't sleep without medication. I couldn't speak without breaking down into tears. Family and friends called to offer us Thanksgiving wishes, and I couldn't talk to them. I lay on the sofa, frozen in a state of absolute terror, unable to focus on anything other than my overactive, irritated uterus. I was going crazy. I have been on bed rest for nearly six weeks and I was literally driving myself into a deep depression. I tried to distract myself by coloring with Ava or watching sermons from our church on the computer, but nothing worked. I spent hours on the phone with doctors, midwives and nurses, asking them a million questions. I could feel them all rolling their eyes at me on the other end of the line, as if to say, "Oh, it's you again." All-in-all, I was doing a horrible job at trusting God. One of my OBs told me I have post-traumatic stress disorder, meaning my experience with Ava was causing this life-seizing anxiety. She referred me to a psychiatrist at Emory University. This doctor apparently specializes in pregnancy-related mental health, so I called him yesterday to make an appointment. I left a message and haven't heard back.

Yesterday (Monday), things were different. Starting late morning, I was contracting more than usual, and started monitoring them. My at-home nurse called to let me know I had six contractions in one hour. Six contractions is the maximum number I am allowed to have according to my doctor, so I immediately gave myself an extra bolus of Terbutaline and also increased my basal rate. I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening on the monitors, giving myself 4 boluses in 8 hours. Nothing was changing. At 8:30 p.m., I called the doctor and they told me to come to the hospital. For the first time in five days, I felt relieved. We took Ava to my sister's house (again), and made the 40-minute drive to the hospital. When we got here, my contractions were getting closer together, and eventually climaxed at every two minutes. The midwife checked me, and remarkably, my cervix was still just 1-2 cm dilated. I kept repeating, "I'm so glad we're here." Although I was back in the hospital, experiencing some very painful and frequent contractions, I still felt better emotionally than I had in a week. I trusted God because I asked for a sign - a definitive must-go-to-the-hospital-now sign - and He gave me one. They put me on the magnesium sulfate around 1 a.m. this morning, and my contractions are back down to about five or six an hour. They consider this a victory, and aren't expecting to get them to go away completely. Right now we are just buying as much time as we can, celebrating the fact that I am still pregnant.

An ultrasound this afternoon showed the baby is looking good and is about 4 pounds. My cervix has shortened slightly but is holding steady at 2.6 cm. It was all good news, but left me more confused than ever. How is it that I can have 25 relatively painful contractions an hour and not affect my cervix, yet not feel a thing and deliver a 32-weeker in 50 minutes? And they wonder why I am uncomfortable being at home.

So here we are, baby boy, back in the hospital. The magnesium sulfate has made me feel all the effects of a hangover without any of the fun in partying. Stefan stayed with me throughout the night and all day, but he'll be leaving in a few minutes to go get Ava. I don't know how long I will be here, how long I will be on the mag, or how much more time we have until baby arrives. But I do know that I am eating better, sleeping better and coping better now that I am here. As much as I hate this place. We're finding a way to get to one more day, and those days are turning into weeks.

Give Thanks

"Oh Lord, who has given us so much, mercifully grant us one more thing - a grateful heart."
George Herbert

This year has been filled with more ups and downs than any other. But regardless of our triumphs and trials in 2008, there are so many things for which the Blums are thankful:

1. God's unwavering mercy, grace and love.
2. Our health.
3. Each other.
4. A still-pregnant Jackie.
5. Stefan's job.
6. The family and friends who surround us with love and compassion.
7. Our troops, who are giving their lives so that we can enjoy the freedom in ours.
8. The food in our pantry, the pillows under our heads, the heat in our home and the clothes on our backs.
9. Ava's laugh.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Letter C

Stefan called me this evening during the dinner hour to let me know about Ava's latest accomplishment. Tonight, Ava had spaghetti for dinner - something we don't give her often primarily because she's never really cared for it enough to eat a full meal's worth. Well tonight, Stefan gave her a plate of spaghetti, with the noodles cut short so she could eat it easily. According to my husband, Ava picked up a short noodle, and the noodle limped between her two fingers, forming an arch. Ava studied the arched noodle for a second, and then shouted, "C!"

Yes, honey, you're right! That is the letter C. I was so very proud of my little girl, and so very sad that I missed it.

Day Sixteen: Breaking Through

32 weeks and 3 days.

Today has been one of those days...

It all started this morning when I had a bad dream. Catering brought my breakfast tray into my room around 7:15 a.m. as usual, and it's at this time that I usually go to the bathroom, put my contacts in, brush my teeth, turn on the TV and start my day. But this morning, I let myself drift back to sleep, and that was a huge mistake. I had the WORST dream ever. I shouldn't be surprised. It's always the early morning dreams that are the weirdest. I dreamed that I was on the fetal monitor, and the nurses found a heart irregularity with the baby. His heart rate would be normal and then dip way low. It scared me to death! I was awakened at 8:30 by the perinatologist who came in to see me. He apologized for waking me up, but I told him that I was thankful he did. Ugh, what a nightmare. And it has stuck with me all day. From now on, I'm rising and shining when that breakfast tray enters my room.

I am getting quite proficient at typing with one hand.

The day hasn't really improved much since my horrible dream. I have been crampy all all day and have been having a lot of contractions and irritability. I am living from terbutaline bolus to terbutaline bolus, and that makes me very uncomfortable, as if I'm starting to break through the meds. It's been nearly 2 weeks since I've started the pump, so it wouldn't surprise me. I have an ultrasound tomorrow morning, and I will be very vocal about my concerns. The doctors are flirting with the notion of sending me home tomorrow, which always sends my emotions into overdrive.

I have been ultra-focused on days lately... how many days left until I reach 34 weeks? 35 weeks? 36 weeks? How far will I go? At what date will I reach these milestones. I am trying to still take it one day at a time, but it's hard on days like today, when I just want to know everything will be OK.

Most of the things we've ordered for baby have arrived. The clothes have been washed, but Stefan told me he's just throwing the piles of clean laundry into his crib and will fold them later.

Day Fifteen: So Sleepy

32 weeks and 2 days.

For the past two weeks, I have not inhaled one breath of fresh air. From the window in my room, I only have a view of another wing of the hospital, but I am able to tell if it's sunny or cloudy, day or night. It could be 90 degrees outside and I wouldn't know the difference. But I know it's cold because my husband tells me so every time we talk on the phone. I know it was dreary and rainy today, and even though I couldn't really see the weather, it affected me anyway. I was so sleepy today, and so was baby. I napped intermittently all throughout the day, starting at 9:30 this morning! I never napped for long, but I would remember seeing the beginnings and the ends only of some TV shows. Baby has been very mellow today, too. He's given me a few kicks, but for the most part has been snoozing right along with his mama. Drowsiness is also a side effect of my anti-anxiety medication, so pair that with the rain and I was a lazy daisy today! I just hope I can sleep tonight.

Bonnie surprised me with a visit today and brought Ava, Ally and Kelsey. They were returning home from a morning at the aquarium, and stopped by to provide some company for 30 minutes. All three girls immediately fell into character. Ava and Kelsey asked for snacks and Ally started asking questions about all of the medical equipment in my room. She wanted to know what my T-pump did, and I told her it was a computer that talked to the baby to tell him to stay in my belly as long as possible. Ally is a very smart little girl. She was so concerned about my health and the baby (at 5 years old!), and all Ava and Kelsey could do was shove Honey Nut Cheerios into their faces. It cracked me up. I loved seeing all of them.

Day Fourteen: Getting a Medical Degree

The past day-and-a-half have been lovely. Contractions have been few and far between. Irritability has been light. Things were mellow for a while. But I know better than to think for a second that things will stay that way. I was quite crampy this afternoon and this evening, with a whole lot of pressure on my cervix, as if the baby was trying to push his way out. But because I'm not really contracting, no one seems to be concerned.

The baby could be laying funny.
Maybe I just need a bowel movement.
Maybe it's another infection.
It could be the nasty Metamucil and Ensure supplements they have me chugging several times daily.

It's anyone's guess, which means I'm left to diagnose myself. Because no one around here seems to think anything's wrong unless contractions are 8 minutes apart, I feel like I'm the one that has to pull the fire alarm. When Ava came, I never had serious contractions. My water broke, and moments later, she was here. I may not be a doctor, but I know that major things can happen without contractions. Medicine is a science. But I am a mother. And I know.

The crampiness and pressure has subsided for now, but I'm still not completely convinced that something didn't happen when I was.

I have been listening to a lot of James Taylor and Enya.

Day Thirteen: 32 Weeks!

Now we are in familiar territory. Ava was born at 32 weeks and 4 days, so at this point we kind of know what to expect should the baby decide to enter the world. Of course, we are hoping for several more weeks in my belly, but I am thankful for this milestone.

Ava and Stefan came to visit me this morning. Ava loves raiding my snack stash that I accumulate when the snack cart lady visits my room each morning. She always picks a colorful package (this morning it was an apple cinnamon Nutrigrain bar) and brings it to me. I open it, and she chows down. It's become our little ritual. We snuggled as she watched a Baby Einstein movie, she played for a little while, and then they had to leave. For the first time in two weeks, I didn't cry when they left. Maybe it's because I'm getting stronger. Maybe it's because they'll probably be back for another visit tomorrow. I wish it was the former, but it's probably the latter.

Today has been a relatively good day. Contractions and irritability have been fairly quiet, but we're about to enter the critical evening hours, when my uterus seems to switch into overdrive. I am hoping for a quiet and uneventful night. I am almost done with our Christmas shopping!

Day Twelve Part Two: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

My emotional state has done a complete 180 since this morning. After receiving some great news this morning at my ultrasound, I have had an afternoon of contractions and irritability. In fact, I've had to get two T-pump boluses (surges) earlier than usual to try and quiet things down. The thing is, I knew this would happen. It's common - even expected - for T-pumps to eventually "fail," meaning that my body will at some point get used to the Terbutaline and will no longer react to it. But typically it takes 2-3 weeks for this to happen, and I have only been on it for 10 days. My basal dosages, as well as my boluses, can be increased to buy more time. But I fear how much more time because once I break through the T-pump, the doctors will need to bring out the big guns. The magnesium sulfate.

I'm so discouraged right now. It seems like every time I make progress, something happens to knock me down. I cry at the drop of a hat because I'm just so scared and emotionally drained. I know God won't give me anything I can't handle, but sometimes I wonder what He's thinking. I just feel so weak. Are other mom's in the other high-risk patient rooms feeling this way? Are they as emotionally unstable as I am? Sometimes I feel like the staff thinks I'm neurotic.

Day Twelve: I'm in it Until We Win it

My ultrasound this morning went better than expected. With all of the irritability and contractions this week, I would have sworn the doctors were going to find even less of a cervix than they did on Monday. But exactly the opposite happened - there's more! A whole centimeter more (which is a lot in terms of cervical length)! I was giddy. I also got into a little argument with the perinatologist, but more on that in a minute.

I saw my actual, original OB this morning, Dr. Jo. She has been out for a couple of months on maternity leave, and this morning she came into my room to catch up. We had a great discussion, and I immediately remembered why I love her so much. She is honest and realistic, but has this amazing bedside manner. She could tell you some disappointing news, but somehow, you feel OK about it. But the thing I love most about her is that she is confident in what she wants. No wishy-washy-I'm-not-sure-what-to-do-with-you kind of mentality. she knows what she wants for her patients and has no problem following through on it. And because I'm such an emotional rollercoaster right now, I really need someone like that as my doctor. Dr. Jo said that she wanted to keep me here at least another week (until I hit 33 weeks at least) because of my history. (This is where that whole being OK with disappointing news came into play.) I felt a little deflated when she said that, but I also felt very relieved. I've said so many times before that I would love to go home but would be scared to death at the same time.

So after speaking with Dr. Jo this morning, I went for my ultrasound and got the awesome news about my cervical length. One of the staff perinatologists (I see a different one every time I have an ultrasound) came into the room and shouted, "You're cervix looks phenomenal! Let's get you home!" I smiled but said, "Um, OK, but Dr. Jo said she wanted to keep me here at least another week."

Peri: "Why?"
Me: "I'm not sure. She said she wants to make sure I am able to make it to at least 34 weeks and feels I should be here until 33 weeks or so."
Peri: "Well that doesn't make sense. I mean, you can have monitoring at home." (Picture uptight, patronizing woman here.)
Me: "OK. But I'm not a doctor. I don't know what's best here."
Peri: "Well you do want to go home, don't you?" (The bitch!)
Me: "Of course I'd love to go home! But I'm scared to death! My daughter was born around this time and I don't want that to happen again."
Peri: "Well fine then, we'll just keep you here."

She literally stormed out of the room and slammed the door. The tech who did my ultrasound looked at me, smiled gently, and mouthed, "I'm sorry." I heard this particular perinatologist doesn't have children of her own, and I'm thinking her attitude would be different if she did.

The point is, I am completely incapable of making this decision. I cannot say, "Sure, I'll go home!" If I do, and go into hard labor that could have been stopped had I been here, I will never, ever forgive myself. What if I get home and can't get back to the hospital in time? But what if I stay and everything is OK and what I really end up missing is time with Ava and Stefan before the baby arrives? It's an impossible situation. And everyone wants to know what I want. You know what I want? I want a healthy baby boy. I want to not be in the NICU. I want my house in the hospital and the hospital in my house. But I can't have both. But I will say this: I would rather be here in the hospital and pregnant for Thanksgiving than here in the hospital visiting my baby in the NICU on Christmas. I know doctors can't predict the future, but whatever it takes to have a healthy baby is what I will do.

I was talking to my brother-in-law Bo on the phone this morning and he said that this was more of a mental game now. I agreed. It's like running a marathon. After a certain point (or mile marker), it's not really about physical ability as much as it is about mental and emotional endurance. We will make it. We will win this race.

Days Nine - Eleven: Model of Instability

We made it another three days, baby! Great work. You always perform so well while on the monitor. You stay put for the entire hour so the nurse can hear your heartbeat, accelerations, and movements. Sometimes you think you're so cute by playing hide-and-seek and making the nurses search long and hard for your heartbeat, but they find you every time, eventually. Now, they always have to angle the monitor downward because you've burrowed into my belly. You always get an A+ when on the monitors. Your mommy, however...

There are good days and bad days. Some days I barely feel a contraction, and other days I feel like maybe labor is beginning. The doctors have diagnosed me with an irritable uterus. Actually, I diagnosed myself and the doctors agreed. Maybe I'm the one who should be getting paid.

I am still in the hospital and have another ultrasound tomorrow morning. Some doctors can't wait to send me home, while others imply I'll be here until I get off the medications at 34-35 weeks. I see so many doctors and they all think and say different things. Some think my irritable uterus is of no substantial concern, and others want to try and calm it. Some doctors say my nighttime contractions should be reduced as much as possible with meds, while others say they are normal for this stage of pregnancy. I wish they would just have one, united voice about how to treat me or I will never feel comfortable enough to go home until after the baby arrives.

I miss Ava and Stefan so much.

My Dream

Last night I had a dream, and I was surprised at how it actually made sense. Usually my dreams are so illogical and bizarre, like the time I was being hunted as a suspect for the murder of Joe Pesci. Seriously, and that's not even as bad as they get. But last night's dream was crystal clear:

I was at Target shopping for the baby. I was wearing my favorite Kenneth Cole black stilettos and my favorite skinny jeans. I don't remember if I was pregnant, but I was shopping vigilantly for the baby - blankets, clothes, swings. I was running around, almost in a panic, trying to get as much stuff as possible. Then, all of a sudden, I remembered I was supposed to be on bed rest. I freaked out because I just knew I was jeopardizing the baby's health with every additional step I took. I abandoned the shopping cart and almost ran to my car, where I got in the driver's seat and reclined the seat as far back as it could go. I tried to lay down in the car, but it was really difficult. I woke up before finding out what happened, and was so relieved to learn it was only a dream.

Day Eight: Not Going Home, Struggling to Find a Solution

My ultrasound this morning was pretty good. The baby has somehow flipped himself to breech again, but the doctor said he will more than likely flip again before delivery day. Everything measured stable, so I thought I was on my way home today. No such luck. My doctors are still concerned with the number of contractions I'm having, particularly in the evening hours. So they once again adjusted my meds and want to observe me again overnight. It's all so bittersweet. I want nothing more than to go home, but if something's not right, I want to be here. I have spent much of the day in tears of frustration over whether or not we'll find anything that works, or if my doctors will just keep adjusting meds like a science experiment in order to buy just one more day. Eventually, my options will run out and the baby will come when he wants... I just hope it's sometime after 34 weeks.

The dietician here at the hospital has put me on Ensure twice a day to help me gain weight. I am back to shedding pounds, but not because I am not eating, but because the baby is demanding so much right now. He is gaining roughly 1/2 pound a week, and the calories needed to do that are a lot. I am eating again, but not enough for me and the baby. So he gets what he needs (thank God), and I continue to lose the weight. The Ensure is supposed to help get more nutrients to me and the baby, but it doesn't taste very good. I have to get it super cold and then chug it through a straw, tasting as little as possible. I heard Boost tastes better, but the hospital has a contract with Ensure, so that's what I get.

Stefan and Ava came down for a nice, long visit this evening. They had to - I was out of underwear. We had dinner together (Stefan and Ava got McDonald's in the hospital cafeteria and brought it to my room), and Ava had a good time playing with a few spare (safe) objects from around my room. Ava snuggled with me on my bed while she ate some Cheerios, which was one of the sweetest moments of my life. And getting a warm bear hug from my hubby is the better than any medicine that could come in a bottle. I love it when they visit, but it always takes me at least an hour after they leave to calm down and stop the tears. It makes me feel like I am sacrificing the care of one child to care for the other. Some days, my mantra of "This, too, shall pass" doesn't seem to be very effective. Today is one of those days. I hope tomorrow is better.

Days Six & Seven: Getting By with a Little Help from my Friends

We hit 31 weeks yesterday! I have been fairly stable over the weekend, so pending a good, solid ultrasound tomorrow morning, I may be able to go home. I'm not expecting to be there too long, but the doctors said that's to be expected. They said I will most likely be in and out until I deliver.

This weekend was nice because I got lots of visitors. Stefan and Ava came to see me Saturday morning, and my very good friend Mandy came to see me this morning. I love having visitors because it takes my mind off of everything and also gives me the opportunity to talk to someone other than a doctor or nurse. Mandy brought me some adorable clothes for the baby, as well as some pretty-smelling lotion for me. Sometimes it just takes a little friendship to make everything seem brighter, better, more tolerable.

Baby has been active as usual, although every nurse I come into contact with comments on how low he is. I know he is low. Please don't remind me every 5 minutes. It freaks me out. I have been having terrible bouts of heartburn lately, and I know it's common this late in pregnancy. But I also know that eating while laying down isn't helping matters, either. The nurses always offer me drugs to help, but seriously, the last thing I want is more chemicals raging through my body. I have been eating between 2 and 3 cups of yogurt a day to help fight the effects of the antibiotics. After this, I may never want to look at yogurt again, which is a shame, because I have always liked yogurt. Except for chocolate-flavored yogurt. That's just wrong. Save the chocolate for the pudding.

Ava and Stefan ran lots of errands today to continue preparing for baby's arrival. I miss them so much. Well, I almost made it through the day without crying...

Day Five: Looking Good

At 7:15 this morning, I was awakened by a knock on my room door. "Mrs. Blum? the nurse asked. Ultrasound wants to see you at 7:30. I have your wheelchair out here in the hall to take you downstairs." That's the one bad thing about being an inpatient... Your appointments are before the office actually opens, so that the doctors can see you before their normal patient load for the day. And that means 7:30, whether you're up and ready or not. I quickly got dressed, brushed my teeth and put in my contacts. I ran a brush through my hair and put a thin headband on. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized the headband looked awful. It was like I was attempting to put whipped cream on a pile of shit. Oh dear. But at least I showered last night and shaved my legs. I was clean, but hardly presentable.

The ultrasound went very well. The baby looks great and is measuring around 3 pounds 5 ounces. There was also signs of improvement in terms of cervical length - it measured 3 cm as compared to the 2.7 cm measurement from Monday. Not a huge improvement, but it's an improvement, and I'll take that any day of the week! The doctors think I am showing good signs of stability, and for the first time in a week, I heard the words "going home." I am still scared to go home, although I know they are fully expecting me to be back in a week or two for the same preterm labor symptoms. That seems to be my pattern. They want me to stay here through the weekend to be sure the T-pump is still working successfully, and then on Monday, maybe I will be able to go home.

Hospital volunteers with an organization called Happy Tails came by my room this afternoon and introduced two furry friends - Gus, a 2-year-old daschund, and Samantha, a 5-year-old terrier. The dogs are very friendly and well trained. They visit patients as a way to brighten their days. Both Gus and Samantha hopped up on my bed and let me pet them for quite some time (the nurse changed my bed immediately after they left). I really enjoyed the visit, although part of me got a little depressed. I know their purpose is to bring some level of happiness to patients, but for me, it just served as a reminder that I am in a hospital, away from my own dog and family. I just hate hospitals, I guess.

Stefan, Bo and Bonnie have spent the past few days preparing the nursery. Bo and Stefan assemble and move the furniture, and Bonnie organizes everything. Yesterday, I shopped for all the baby necessities online. Let's just say Babies R Us and Amazon.com will no doubt make earnings estimates this quarter. But, I feel good knowing we have all we need, at least until I am able to get up and to a store again, which won't be until after Baby Boy arrives. I am sad that I am not a part of the nesting, but I am so appreciative that it is getting done. I can't wait to see it when I get home!

Day Four: Packing on the Pounds

I've gained 3 pounds in 2 days! Woo-hoo! Now we're moving in the right direction, and I owe it all to my sweetheart of a food service lady, who brings me a Krispy Kreme every morning with my breakfast.

Today was a good day. An 8 on a scale of 1-10. I had very few contractions, so this Terbutaline Pump seems to be working for now. My IV was removed this morning, so I'm on my own to keep myself ultra hydrated. I tweezed my eyebrows this evening because I have given up all hope of getting to a salon before the baby arrives. And although I don't consider myself to be vain, I simply refuse to have the first photographs with my new son feature me with a unibrow. So I plucked away, and feel much better.

I go for another ultrasound tomorrow morning. I am a little anxious for this one because before I was introduced to the glorious T-pump, I was having some pretty serious contractions and a lot of pressure. I just hope and pray nothing hasn't changed or dilated any further.

Every night as I blog, I have been playing lullabies from my itunes for the baby (Tracy, it's the Nicolette Larson CD you gave me - love it!). We both enjoy the soft music, and I think it is helping me sleep. I have been able to sleep well without the Ambien, thank goodness. I am also reading a book called Days in Waiting, which was written as a survival guide for pregnant women on bed rest and experiencing complications. The woman who wrote it endured not one, but two pregnancies where she faced some of the most extreme bed rest challenges I have ever seen. She shares practical advice and tips for moms experiencing bed rest and other complications of high-risk pregnancies. While the tips and advice truly are helpful, the best part of this book for me is helping me to not feel so alone in all of this. I have found myself nodding along with her words, as if she is talking directly to me, about my situation.

The clock just struck midnight. We made it another day, honey. Here's to another! But now, for me, it's lights out.

Day Three: Pumps and Progress

Today is my third full day in the hospital, and for the first time in all 4 of my visits, no one has spoken a word about going home. Not that I'm anxious to go home, but it's just weird to think I may be here for the long haul. Last night I had another scary incident of pressure and contractions, so I received more Terbutaline injections, which helped a lot. After last night's episode, my doctor and perinatologist decided the Procardia I was on to help ease contractions was just not doing it's job. So I am now on a Terbutaline "pump." the T-pump is essentially a small, portable IV catheter that provides continuous meds. It is put into my thigh, and I don't feel a thing. I am really happy (so far) with the T-pump because I'm not experiencing the roller coaster of symptoms I was with the Procardia. No more waiting to take meds and hoping I don't contract before they kick in. But, I've only had this gadget for about 8 hours, so it'll be a couple of days before we really know if it's effective.

My doctor also put me on an anti-anxiety medication called Adovan. The last thing I wanted was another drug, but I know the stress I am experiencing is most likely making things worse. So my doctor was happy to give me the Adovan and said most high-risk patients need it at some point.

Stefan and I have started celebrating our daily milestones each morning on the phone. "We made it another day!" we exclaim, and then we hope for another. My OB said this morning that our new goal is 34 weeks. Of course, we will hope for longer, but our goal is 34 glorious, healthy weeks. 34 is only 3 1/2 weeks from where I am now, so I am hopeful. We can do it, baby boy! But there are never any guarantees, and we're still celebrating each day as a mini milestone. Day by day.

The baby has been active again today and has several bouts of the hiccups. The hiccups are good, as they are a result of practice breathing, which the baby has been doing for weeks now. I go for my next ultrasound Friday morning.

This afternoon, the hospital's "music therapist" came by and played some relaxing music for me and the baby. Although I found it ti be a bit odd at first, the music she played was incredibly relaxing and helped distract my thoughts for a few minutes. It also broke up the monotony of the day.

And as the highlight of my day, Stefan and Ava came by for a visit this evening. She did the funniest thing while she was here: she found a pack of cleansing wipes I have in my suitcase, took them to Stefan and said, "For poo-poo!" We both about laughed ourselves to death. We also read to Ava a new book we got for her called "I'm a Big Sister!" We're trying to get her ready for the tremendous changes our family is about to experience once the baby arrives and comes home. As if her world hasn't been rocked enough recently...

All-in-all, a good day. But I did still cry at dinnertime. Like clockwork. Thanks SO VERY, VERY MUCH to all of those who are praying for us! We appreciate it and know God hears you.

New Realities

I am back in the hospital and have been here since late Sunday night. I was feeling this odd pressure and an overall sense of something's-not-right-here, so Stefan brought me back to the hospital, and lo and behold, the midwife said I was beginning to dilate! They were able to put the contractions at bay with a triple shot of Terbutaline, but there is nothing that can be done to make them go away completely. There are a few more "big guns" they can use to help ease contractions, but overall, nothing can be done to stop true labor. The doctors told me that if the baby really wants to come, he'll come, and there must be a reason. Sometimes babies are simply better out than in, although I am hoping for the latter.

Of course, the doctors are hopeful, but several new realities have replaced our original hopes and dreams for this pregnancy. Our original hope of carrying to full term has been replaced with the new reality that we just have to take it day by day from now on. No one knows how much longer I will be able to go before delivering, but we know that every additional day in the womb is a tremendous gift. I still don't know if I'll be in the hospital for the duration of my pregnancy or just until the doctors feel I am stable enough to go back home. As much as I loathe being here, a part of me feels more comfortable being here. We live 40 minutes from the hospital (and that's if we miss rush hour), and my biggest fear is not being able to get here in time should real labor set in hard and fast (as it did with Ava). But I find that I sleep better here, and maybe it's because I know if something goes wrong, I'm already here. The food, however, is not good.

Because my digestive system is still a wreck, even after a week+ of being off of antibiotics, I saw a GI specialist yesterday. (I didn't even know GI specialists existed, and quite frankly, who would want to specialize in that?) As it turns out, I most likely have another infection. This time however, the infection is a result of the antibiotics. Because antibiotics kill ALL bacteria in your body - even good bacteria - your body becomes vulnerable to another infection because nothing is present to kill it. So I am back on antibiotics, this time for a longer duration and a stronger dose. I am not looking forward to the havoc these drugs may cause on my body, but again, if it might help the baby stay in a little longer, bring it on. I am eating yogurt with every meal to help aid the production of "good bacteria" in my body.

I have been crying a lot, mostly because it is one of the best stress relievers for me. When Ava was in the NICU, I cried every night at dinnertime like clockwork. It was as if I was letting out all the stress of the day. I am trying not to worry about what could happen, but that doesn't make it any less scary. Stefan has been my rock, as always, and I am so thankful I have him.

Ava is still too young to understand what is going on, thank goodness. She is saying her entire alphabet now, although we lead her for every letter; she simply repeats after us. She seems to get caught up on the letter F, though, as she pronounces it as a P. But we're getting there. It seems as if her vocabulary increases daily, and I must admit, I love listening to her try to pronounce words. Right now, the word sheep is "peesh." Totally backwards, but totally adorable. She turned 23 months on Sunday the 9th - the countdown to 2 has officially begun! I look forward to getting my alone time back with her. Coloring.
Playing. Running around. Reading stories. I miss it all, but know it is for the best of reasons.

30 Weeks!

Today we hit a milestone - 30 weeks. Baby's eyelashes and eyebrows are fully developed. He is opening and closing his eyes, and he weighs close to three whole pounds (at least we're hoping he's close to that). We're still 2 1/2 weeks away from the time Ava was born, so there's still a long way to go.

Praying for 36 healthy weeks!

The Queen of Worry

When it comes to worrying, I will fully admit I invented the concept. Or at least it feels like I did. When things are going wrong, I worry. When things are going right, I worry about how long it will be before something bad happens. It's just who I am and how I'm built. I may see the glass as half full, but then I stress about why it isn't overflowing.

Last night I listened to a sermon by the lead pastor at our new church (thank goodness for podcasts!). Andy Stanley is leading our church through a three-part series about worry, and the timing couldn't be better. At a time when I have nothing to do but lay here and worry, it was nice to hear some great words of wisdom. The sermon completely enlightened me and answered so many of my questions. Andy used Matthew 6:24-34 to illustrate Jesus' teachings about worry, and here's what hit home the most for me: I have done everything I can do to prolong this pregnancy and ensure the best possible health for our baby boy. Now, I need to trust God with the uncertain. With tomorrow. With everything else. I can't see the big picture like He can. I just know that He loves me and will provide for me.

I am getting my weekly progesterone injections.
I have been to every doctor's appointment and ultrasound.
I have gotten the steroid injections to develop the baby's lungs.
I have treated the infections.
I have abided by all bed rest rules and restrictions.

There is nothing more I can do. I have put myself on autopilot... actually, on "Godpilot." Worrying is not going to keep the baby in me for an additional minute. Worrying will not make my contractions cease (actually, stress only makes contractions worse). The sermon made perfect sense and was great therapy. It was also a great precursor to my night. I didn't sleep a wink last night. Dinner did not settle well with me (or the baby), and I spent the entire night sick and stressed. The sickness made me have contractions, which stressed me out. Which made me contract more, which made me even sicker. Which made me even more stressed out. The vicious cycle. I was this close to going back to the hospital this morning, but after talking to my doctor, we agreed that I would stay at home and see if my body could right itself without another trip to Labor and Delivery. I'm still not feeling great, but my condition hasn't worsened. I'm so thankful that I am still at home and not back at the hospital for a fourth time in seven weeks. But it would be lovely to rid myself of this nastiness and feel as good as I have been these past few days.

The baby has been super active. That's always reassuring. But I'm sure I'll figure out a way to worry about that, too. Give it to God, Jackie, give it to God. I'm way out of my league.

Lyrics to My Favorite Worship Song

The best word I can think of to describe this song is: calibrating. If you'd like to hear it, turn up your volume!

Jesus, Lover of My Soul (It's All About You)

It's all about You, Jesus
And all this is for You
For Your glory and your fame
It's not about me
As if You should do things my way
You alone are God
And I surrender to your ways

Jesus, lover of my soul
All consuming fire is in Your gaze
Jesus, I want you to know
I will follow you all my days
For no one else in history is like you
And history itself belongs to you
Alpha and Omega, You have loved me
And I will share eternity with You

It's all about You, Jesus
And all this is for You
For Your glory and your fame
It's not about me
As if You should do things my way
You alone are God
And I surrender to your ways

Obama Wins

All of the Blums were fast asleep by the time our nation announced its new president-elect. I tried to stay awake but couldn't keep my eyes open. And given the fact that I have been struggling to sleep at all recently, I decided to give up and just find out this morning. I think the last thing I remember was the NBC crew putting a vinyl overlay in the color of blue over the state of Ohio.

Unfortunately, I was unable to cast my ballot this year. I was so looking forward to voting in such a critical and pivotal election, but bed rest came on hard and fast, and by the time I learned I was confined to my sofa, it was too late to request an absentee ballot. I watched all of the debates, followed each campaign, and weighed all of the issues. I am not a republican or a democrat or an independent. I vote the issues on each election day, and that's something I take pride in. I was very sad not to have the ability to go to the polls, but if I really want to make a difference, I know there is so much more I can do.

I think that regardless of who won last night, the fight ahead remains the same. Americans can't depend on one person to bring our country back to life. And we won't be successful if we continually separate ourselves as republicans or democrats. We must come together as Americans.

Thanks to everyone who voted yesterday. What an amazing right we possess.

A Moment-By-Moment Surrender

A recent blog post by my very good friend Tracy was entitled "Let Go and Let God." It's one of those truisms in life that is far more easily spoken than lived. Unfortunately, these words never ring more loudly than when were in the middle of a struggle or a trial that sends us to our knees exclaiming, "Lord, please help me!" God wants nothing more than a personal relationship with us. He wants us to talk to Him, to cry to Him, to trust Him. It's the ultimate sign of good faith when you heartfully tell God that you need Him and that you trust Him and His plan. Ever since my pregnancy test showed that beautiful second pink line, I have vowed to let go and let God. It was so much easier to follow through on that vow early in my pregnancy, when everything was going well and the thought of another premature baby was far from thought. Now that I have reached a critical point, and signs of complications are abundant, I have become what I like to call a "Christian Indian Giver." One minute, I give it all to God, because I know He is in control. Not a minute later, I am filled with worry and stress. Was that a contraction? Why am I feeling pressure there? Was that another contraction? Will I go into labor if I drive myself to my OB appointment or take a shower and shave my legs? How is Stefan holding up? How will I be able to celebrate Thanksgiving or Ava's second birthday? Does my sister resent me for asking so much of her? What if after all of this - the drugs, the injections, the bed rest, the ultrasounds, the hospitals - it's still not enough? Then I remember that I gave it to God. And I took it back.

Stefan and I had another OB and ultrasound appointment this afternoon. The doctors say they are "pleased" with how things look now, even though things aren't as good as they were last week, right before I was discharged from the hospital. If the doctors are happy, why don't I feel better? My perinatologist told me today that I have the toughest job of all: to relax and try not to worry. That really is a tall order for me, who has stressed over everything since learning the meaning of the word.

So how do I do it? How do I not stress? The answer is to let go and let God... and to not take it back. The only way I'm going to be successful is to surrender every moment - every 60 seconds - if that's what it takes. Letting go and letting God is not a one-time event. It's an ongoing, moment-by-moment surrender. If I can spend every waking moment worrying, then I can certainly try to spend it talking to God. I think He'd like that.

A Kiss Goodnight

Every night since going on bed rest, Stefan has brought Ava downstairs so that I can participate in her tooth brushing routine, and sometimes story time. I say my special goodnight to Ava before Stefan takes her back upstairs to bed. As they disappear up the stairs, I have gotten in the habit of blowing her kisses, and tonight, she returned the gesture. She blew me a kiss for the first time. It melted my heart as I have been struggling to cope with Ava's newfound dependence on and favor for Stefan and my sister. Not that I don't love watching Ava become her daddy's girl. It's just that I wish I could still be as big in her life as I was just a couple of weeks ago. I know it's only temporary, but in the meantime, that goodnight kiss was exactly what I needed.

Feeling Blue

Blue is the word of the day. I've been feeling blue. I'm seeing blue. Lots and lots of blue... but not all bad!

My sister went to Carter's this morning to shop for our baby boys - mine and hers. Because my shopping ability is limited to the Internet for the time being, I asked her to pick out a few essential layette items for the baby. In my opinion, shopping for baby clothes online is next to impossible. Not only is the selection overwhelming, but the prices are inflated, too. So I depended on my sister's good taste (and keen eye for a good sale) to furnish baby's first wardrobe! She brought me a bag full of absolutely precious (in a masculine sort of way) pieces - from sleepers to onesies to his all-too-important coming home outfit. And let me tell you, she did not disappoint. There is so much blue in that bag! Oh my goodness. When Stefan and I learned that we were having a boy, we went through all of the totes of clothes from Ava's first year to see if we could find anything unisex to use for the new baby. We failed. I found white onesies in every size, and that's about it. So until this morning, our little boy was going to be naked, which would have been acceptable until about age 10.

There is a part of me that is angry and sad that I am missing out on preparing for our son's arrival, but then I remind myself that I am doing what I need to be doing right now to ensure a safe, healthy, and as-close-as-possible-to-full-term arrival. I joined a high-risk pregnancy support group last night called Sidelines. It is for moms and families dealing with the challenges of high-risk pregnancies, and they also provide support for moms on bed rest. There are chat rooms, message centers, and counselors who contact you individually to offer support for whatever you're feeling. All counselors and volunteers have endured at least one high-risk pregnancy themselves, so they know what we're going through. I'm looking forward to connecting with other moms who are on bed rest. It's funny... Millions and millions of women are put on bed rest each year to deal with complications during pregnancy. But when you're laying here day after day, you feel like you're the only one.

But right this moment, I seem to have found a cure for my blues... surround myself with piles of it.

The Weighting Game

It has been wonderful to be home. My cramps have subsided, and in turn, the contractions have decreased considerably. I'm feeling really good! I was able to be here to see Ava get ready for her first-ever trick-or-treat, as well as watch her run around like a maniac for an hour afterward to work off the sugar high. I feel so good that it's difficult to just lay here; I want to get up and help Stefan, who is running circles around me trying to keep the house clean, Ava fed and entertained, and his career afloat. He's Superman.

But being relatively cramp free doesn't necessarily translate into being worry free. My concern now is weight. During the past week or so, the cramps, drugs and loss of appetite have equated to a huge weight loss for me. I am just a mere 10 pounds over my original pre-pregnancy weight. The baby isn't suffering; he will take from me everything he needs to grow. But it's just not healthy, period. I have lost about 10 pounds in a week, so my new career is to pack on the pounds. This is ironic because I am craving salads, not burgers.

Big game today against Georgia... GO GATORS!

Happy Halloween!

Ava is a lion this year for Halloween. One of her first animal sounds was a gigantic roar, and she has loved lions and tigers ever since. She isn't a fan of wearing the headpiece, but we were able to keep it on long enough to get a photo. This will be her first year Trick-or-Treating, and we're very excited to see how she does. Despite our efforts these past few weeks, she really doesn't say "Trick or Treat!" very well, but we think her overall adorable-ness will score her a few pieces of candy.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Homeward Bound

I'm going home! They're kicking me out... literally. The doctor said they needed to keep these rooms available for people who actually need them, and apparently, I don't need to be here. They did a good job of giving me the confidence I need to go home, so I feel better. Stefan is on his way and I should be home in a couple of hours. The bad news is that I won't be able to get my Ambien prescription filled until tomorrow, so I am nervous about a sleepless night ahead. Goodness, I sound like a junkie.

The Facts About the Fetal Fibronectin Test

The doctor explained to me why they are not too terribly concerned about my positive FFn test. If the test comes back negative, the chance of labor starting within two weeks is only 5%. If the test comes back positive, the chance of labor starting within two weeks is higher, but is still just 30%. Which means there is a 70% chance of still being pregnant in two weeks. Based on my ultrasound this morning, plus the fact that I still may have lingering effects of an infection that could make the test positive, the doctors assured me that a positive FFn test is really nothing to worry about... yet.

Tales From the Hospital

Note: To those who read our blog regularly, please note that in addition to being a way to share family news and events, I am also using this blog as a way to chronicle my bed rest and pregnancy. My apologies if all recent blogs have been emotional or "downers." I promise there will be better days ahead! In the meantime, I'm just trying to make sure I journal the reality of our world so that we always have a way of remembering this time.

Today has been a day of ups and downs. I had a great night's sleep (thanks to Ambien - that stuff rocks!), and my 8 a.m. ultrasound showed that my condition is improving. I was almost giddy with excitement until I got the results from my second Fetal Fibronectin (FFn) Test: still positive. My doctor almost expected another positive test and said he wasn't too concerned, but I was discouraged. The positive test says I'm still a high risk to deliver early. I had a difficult afternoon with cramps and irritability, and the most frustrating thing is that I don't know for sure what is causing all of this upset. Most likely, it is the massive load of antibiotics I have raging through my system right now, but we won't know for sure until next week, after treatment is completed. Until then, I'm baffled. The doctors agree that I am OK to go home, but am I OK to let me go home? Believe me, nothing would be better. But I am so scared. After all, I am still experiencing the same symptoms that brought me here for a second time Tuesday morning. Cramps. Mild contractions. Insomnia (without the aid of Ambien - did I mention that stuff rocks?). We live 40 minutes from the hospital. I know I can't spend the next 8+ (hopefully and prayerfully) in the hospital "just incase," but I can't help but feel very insecure about going home.

Little Notes

Baby Boy has been very active today, doing rolls and somersaults. I wish that I could go back to simply enjoying them instead of stressing so much about everything else.

The USA Today Crossword Puzzle is not easy. The Sudoku isn't exactly a cupcake, either.

Hospital grilled cheese isn't half bad. I'm not saying it's good, but it's not bad.

Daytime TV is beyond awful.

Ambien rocks.

The Hospital: Home Sweet Home, for A While

Ahhhhh, a computer. Haven't seen one of these in a few days. Email. Internet. A connection to the outside world. Wa-hoo!

I have been in and out of the hospital since Saturday, and it looks like I am going to be here for a few more days. We came in about 11 p.m. Saturday night because I wasn't feeling well and had some cramps and contractions. I stayed for a couple of nights to receive IV fluids and a truckload of antibiotics for 2 infections. I went home Monday evening and had one of the worst nights of my life. I didn't sleep a wink, had horrible cramps and a few contractions. To add to the pain, I was also super stressed out about whether I was just sick or if I was in labor. By 7 a.m., I was almost convinced that labor had started, so Stefan brought me back to the hospital where they told me I wasn't (thank you, God!). The ensuing ultrasound also showed that baby boy is still nestled safely inside. So why am I still here? Mostly as a precaution because of my history of preterm labor. Additionally, the doctors think the cramps and contractions are a result of the lovely buffet of drugs I am currently taking for infections, to suppress contractions and to maintain the pregnancy. So they want to see if my condition improves after the antibiotics have run their course. So here I am. It's the best place for me to be, although I hate being here. I must admit I am an emotional train wreck right now. I mean, not only am I pregnant, but I am on hormone supplements AND away from my family. Come to think of it, I'm surprised I'm keeping it together as much as I am! I keep repeating my motto to myself: "This is temporary. This, too shall pass." And it will.

Stefan and my sister and her family have truly come to the rescue. Once we found out I was going to be in the hospital for a little while, we agreed that the most important thing was to provide as normal of a life as possible for Ava. She still goes to Bonnie's every morning, but Stefan picks her up every afternoon and they spend evenings at home. It is SO HARD being away from them, but again, it's temporary. This whole experience has given me newfound appreciation for America's troops. They spend months, or even years(!), away from their children and spouses. I don't know how they do it, but it must be damn near impossible.

On a lighter note, my sister did bring me a birthday cake this morning, along with a very special visitor: Ava! It was a wonderful surprise. I also got Sex & the City the movie on DVD, so I know what I am going to be doing tonight! Thanks to everyone who called, posted a note on my Facebook page, and sent an email. They really brightened my day!

To the Left, to the Left

I'm - or shall I say we're - entering day 3 of bed rest, and I'm beginning to wonder about my newfound life lying on my left side. It's best for me to lie on my left side because that allows for maximum blood flow to the baby. So with the exception of an occasional roll-over to give my left side a break, I'm here. Yesterday, I spent the day sorting through some of my recipe files, searching TV Guide online for shows to Ti-Vo because I don't know what's on TV these days. (If it's not college football, CNBC election coverage or Food Network, the TV is off.) I even tried to watch a few episodes of Dancing with the Stars, but I am so out of touch with Hollywood that I couldn't tell who was the celebrity and who was the professional dancer. So sad, I know. I'm also getting quite good at doing lots of things on my left side: typing; eating; drinking (this is more difficult than it seems!); and using my toes to grab extra pillows.

I know a lot of people may think this confinement to the sofa should be a welcome change to a busy mom, but for me, it's been incredibly difficult. This lifestyle is SO not Jackie. It kills me to see something on the floor and not be able to go pick it up. I hate not being able to cook, especially since Autumn is the time I get the urge to whip up batches of my homemade granola and loaves of my friend Mandy's pumpkin bread. But worst of all I know it's hard on my family. Ava has no clue what's going, only that each morning she goes to Aunt Bonnie's for the day and that these days mommy can't do much more than read her a story. I loathe being so dependent on others; it's just not my nature. It's hard to remember that this is temporary, and it's even harder to know if any of this is going to pay off in the end. I can only pray that it does. I know this whole bed rest concept will just take a little getting used to, but for now, I'm having a really tough time adjusting. It's just been a really long time since I've been alone and not responsible for caring for my daughter.

I've completed my steroid therapy to help develop the baby's lungs, but the steroids have been replaced with Terbutaline to suppress contractions. Today Stefan has stocked me with all 6 seasons of Sex & the City (my favorite), and all I will need to do is grab some lunch in a little while. I am really looking forward to the weekend because Ava and Stefan will be here all day!