Progesterone Shots: Preventing Premature Birth

My son was born premature at 32 weeks, so my current pregnancy was considered high risk from the start, based on my history. Six months ago, my ob recommended weekly shots of 17p alpha-hydroxyprogesterone between weeks 20 – 36 of my pregnancy.

When we began discussing my options, a weekly appointment just to get my shot did not seem feasible: driving an hour or more each week, waiting, getting the shot, finding babysitting every week (and it had to be the same day each week). Of course, I wanted the shots, for the sake of our child. I was willing to do almost anything to avoid having another NICU baby, another baby coming home on the apnea/brady monitor, the endless possibilities of health problems for a premature child.

So we explored alternatives: the most viable one seemed to be the “do-it-yourself” way–ordering the shots from an online pharmacy with my husband administering them at home.

At the time, just the thought of my husband administering these shots gave me chills.

When we got married, our vows included the “in sickness and in health” line. But while you’re standing at the altar, that line seems so understood–even innocuous. (I mean, we all get colds, right? and let me tell you, I’ll be there for you.) You’re not reading between the lines, thinking, ‘in giving [or receiving] weekly shots for several months of pregnancy and bedrest.’

My husband loves me. And I knew he would do the very best he could while giving me my shots. But he’s not at all the medical type. He was repulsed by the doctor’s suggestion that he cut the umbilical cord (‘That’s why we pay you the big bucks!’ my husband replied) and he had no interest in “observing” the baby’s birth in any way whatsoever, except to hold the child–after a thorough bath.

Having experienced various pain levels while receiving shots, I assumed that smoothly administering shots–especially shots that were “thick” enough they have to be administered in your rear end–required years of medical training and experience.

So it was with a bit of trepidation that we had a home health care nurse come out to show him how it was done for the first two weeks. After that, he’s been on his own.

To my great surprise (and even delight!), my husband does a better job administering the shots than the home health care nurse! It’s been less painful–and not even as messy.

During four months of shots, I have. . .

  • Had about three months of contractions (frequently 3-5 minutes apart especially during the night).
  • Significantly reduced my activity (grocery shopping, carrying laundry, lifting the kids, “outings”) in order to avoid bedrest.
  • Spent four days in the hospital during week 29, attempting to bring my contractions down to a reasonable level.
  • Made several trips to Labor and Delivery Triage with contractions 5 minutes apart (or less).
  • Been taking procardia (nifedipine) for about a month and a half.
  • Had a shot of terbutaline, which was a huge success in reducing contractions that were 2-3 minutes apart down to only a handful per hour.
  • Spent about a month and a half on bedrest.

With all of this contraction “activity,” I never imagined that I would still be pregnant at week 36. I never would have believed that my husband would have the chance to give me all 17 shots.

But here we are–17 shots later.

My last shot was earlier this week. We don’t need this stuff any more! As my 3-year-old daughter told someone today, “Mommy’s p’gesterone shots are all gone now!”

And next week, I will be 37 weeks–full-term!

It worked! It wasn’t easy, and it may have been the combination of progesterone, procardia, bedrest, terbutaline. . . but we don’t have a preemie this time around!

So my little girl will be one more success story, speaking to the effectiveness of progesterone shots in reducing premature births!

This Works for Me!

Bedrest Moments I’d Just as Soon Forget. . .

Although I’m a long-time MckMama and Stellan follower, I’ve never before participated in “Not Me! Monday.” But now that I’ve been on bedrest for a month and a half, there are some blog posts in which the only way to save any remaining dignity is to participate in this meme.

It seems almost impossible for me (as a mom of a 3yo and 19 month-old) to coordinate (from my “manager’s office” in bed) everything that needs to be happening for this young family. And we are blessed with the best of help.

But life happens. So for now, stuff continually falls through the cracks. I’m desperately trying to be okay with that, for my own sanity, and so my family can stand to live with me.

Which is why I need to be okay with my son wearing his shoes on the wrong feet or wearing a shirt too small, with sleeves that barely reach his elbows, or pants too long that continually drop to the floor. . .

And why I have to be okay with snowy footprints people have tracked in on the hardwoods (I can’t mop) and crumbs all over the dining room floor after lunch (I can’t sweep) and toys everywhere (I’m not supposed to squat or bend down)!

But, despite the fact that in the moment this stuff seems so overwhelming, when I stop to really think, it’s actually rather mundane–not incredibly blog-worthy–just part of bedrest life.

So while I want to say ‘not me,’ I really just need to “Deal!” as my three-year-old tells me.

Last week though, I experienced a genuine “Not Me!” moment. The kids’ baths have been falling through the cracks. This is one I have trouble dealing with. It’s basic toddler hygiene, you know. And one of those things they just can’t do for themselves yet.

One morning, from my bedrest post on the couch, I caught a whiff of my three-year-old daughter and called to my husband (from the living room to the kitchen). “Daniel! Mara stinks—like poop! It’s been six days since the kids have had baths now!” I’m sure my voice was a bit edgy, since I was already annoyed about the whole bath thing. As soon as I said it, I knew I had made a big mistake.

My poor poor child looked completely dejected and deflated, as she spoke in a hushed voice, “I don’t ‘stink–like poop’.”

Then Mara picked up her phone to call her imaginary friend (Tosta) who apparently sleeps on the twin bed in her room, when there are no guests staying with us.

“Hi, Tosta,” she said. “My mom and dad say I ‘stink like poop.’–I don’t ‘stink like poop’! . . . I need your help, Tosta. . .  Please help me. Bye.”

She pressed the button to end the imaginary phone call, glancing at me with hurt in her eyes.

I did not know what to do or say. It was true! I wished I hadn’t said it, but now I couldn’t take it back. So I just hugged her and told her she would have a bath today, and she would smell nice after her bath.

Then I walked into the kitchen and collapsed (crying) in my husband’s arms. . . .

Surely I’m not the mom whose kids went six days without baths.

Surely I’m not the mom who yelled through the house in front of her daughter that she stunk like poop!

Surely my daughter isn’t the one who has to call her imaginary friend for support when Mom insults her . . .

A definite “not me” moment.

Bedrest: With Toddlers

My three-year-old, adding a whole new dimension to Mom’s “bedrest”

My 19-month-old son, making a call to Dad

(who–lucky for Mom–is working from home today).

Son needs to explain his missing pants and missing shoe

. . . and how all those Pampers escaped from their box.

For More Wordless Wednesday, hop over to Five Minutes for Mom. And if you’d like some tips for having fun with toddlers while on bedrest, check out my previous post “Doing Fun Things With Mommy on Bedrest.”

“When Winter Winds Blow. . .”

Despite the title of my post, there is actually good news:

Monday’s appointment with the nurse practitioner showed no changes since my hospital visit and the terbutaline shot.

The NP suggested I might come off all meds and bedrest at week 36, but said it would be up to the Ob who was consulting with me at the time. (Last week’s Ob said I could come off meds and bedrest at week 37.)

And I now have weekly appointments scheduled every Monday morning through the end of February (they decided not to schedule one for the week of my due date just yet), and I can’t help wondering how many of those appointments I’ll be keeping. I never imagined I would make it this far. . .

The NP seemed very optimistic that our baby will be full-term. In fact, she started a discussion of going ahead and scheduling a repeat c-section “in case you go overdue.”

Overdue? This was my first appointment with the nurse practitioner. Had she looked at my chart? Did she know my son was born at 32 weeks and I’ve been contracting for over two months now with this pregnancy? And all the talk has been how to prevent preterm labor?

At first, my thoughts were, “Yeah, that won’t be necessary.” But then I thought of my friend Christina–hospitalized on bedrest from weeks 28 – 32, home on bedrest till week 37, then passing her due date, while dilated 6 cm for two weeks!  And I realized: anything is possible.

Which left me discouraged, just thinking of months of contractions, months of bedrest and medications, culminating in an overdue child delivered by the dreaded repeat c-section, which would rule out future possibility of vaginal deliveries. . .

Daniel had dropped me off, and during my appointment he took the kids to Dunkin Donuts, where Mara asked if it was her birthday since she was getting a frosted pink donut with sprinkles. We drove home in the torrential rains that we’ve had since last night. It was hard to even see out the windshield. When we got home, we went to get lunch for the kids and found the roof over our kitchen leaking in four spots. . .

I want to rejoice in the answers to prayer: Our Little Boo has made it to 34 weeks. Of those 34 weeks, I have been hospitalized on bedrest only four days this time–the rest of the time I have been able to be home with my husband and my kids. At this point, it’s looking very likely that the baby will make it to “full-term” (37-40 weeks) or if not, she will at least be far enough along that any hospital stay should be minimal and chances are good she will not need the apnea/brady monitor like Micah did. I want to be filled with joy and gratitude.

But two strong “bedrest battles” are the those of discontent and discouragement. For the first few weeks since mid-December, it was just surviving each day and then breathing a huge sigh of relief. Making it through the intense contraction hours of 1-3 AM, and waking up in the morning and saying to Daniel, “Well, we made it through another night without a trip to Labor and Delivery triage.”

Then as the tide turned, we began to realize that we were likely going to make it, and the challenge of this pregnancy would be enduring a couple months of bedrest while trying to care for a young family.

In light of all the trials that so many people face, it is truly petty to complain about bedrest. But I’m just being real: it’s a daily struggle to be content and not to be discouraged. Some days more than others.

I’ve been blessed by Sovereign Grace’s music ministry, and recently spent a lot of time listening to  “Come, Weary Saints” on my MP3 player. (Mara calls it “umbrella music” because there is an umbrella on the CD cover.) Today I wanted to share the lyrics to “As Long As You Are Glorified.” Maybe there is someone out there like me, who will be encouraged by this meditation.

Shall I take from Your hand Your blessings,
Yet not welcome any pain?
Shall I thank You for days of sunshine,
Yet grumble in days of rain?
Shall I love You in times of plenty,
Then leave You in days of drought?
Shall I trust when I reap a harvest,
But when winter winds blow, then doubt?

Oh, let Your will be done in me!
In Your love I will abide.
Oh, I long for nothing else as long
As You are glorified.

Are You good only when I prosper,
And true only when I’m filled?
Are You King only when I’m carefree,
And God only when I’m well?
You are good when I’m poor and needy.
You are true when I’m parched and dry.
You still reign in the deepest valley.
You’re still God in the darkest night.

Oh, let Your will be done in me!
In Your love I will abide.
Oh, I long for nothing else as long
As You are glorified.

So quiet my restless heart, quiet my restless heart
Quiet my restless heart in You.

Words and Music by Mark Altrogge.
© 2008 Sovereign Grace Praise (BMI). Sovereign Grace Music, a division of Sovereign Grace Ministries.
From Come Weary Saints. All rights reserved.

The Simplest Way to Clean the Microwave

For Works-for-Me Wednesday, I’m sharing a  tip I learned this Thanksgiving on how to clean your microwave. It’s amazing! No more scrubbing! I will clean my microwave this way for the rest of my life.

I’ve shared this tip several times since then, and like me everyone has responded, “Wow, that’s so simple!”

It’s not original with me. It came to me from my brother’s wife Missy, who learned it from her mom. So thank you, sister-in-law’s Mom!!!!

All you do is grab a glass bowl and fill it up with water. Pop it in the microwave on high for about five minutes. . . or just push “beverage” three times! [When the microwave beeps, ignore your 19-month-old son who echoes the “beeps,” urging you to open the door. You want the condensation to build up on the sides of the microwave.]

After a couple minutes, open the door and simply wipe the entire microwave clean! Anything stuck on it comes right off!