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.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
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!
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!
Monday, December 22, 2008
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.
So, with this new info you can expect that the next post well be delivery news.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
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 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.
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.
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.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
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...
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...
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
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!
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.
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.
Monday, December 15, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
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.
Friday, December 12, 2008
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.
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.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
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.
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.
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