Speaking of Humorous Kid Moments. . .

I don’t think I’ve ever posted someone else’s Facebook status on my blog, but a fellow-preemie-mom/Facebook friend posted this today. As a mom of kids who say the craziest things, I had to laugh out loud! Most of you don’t know her–or Jack, who is about the same age as Micah, but I thought it was funny enough to share.

Had the funniest thing happen at the grocery store. Jack pointed at the magazines by the checkout with Tiger Woods on the cover and said “dada” so the cashier replied “well, I guess that wouldn’t be too surprising” ROFL

And, just to clarify, Jack is not his son.

Made It To 34 Weeks!

When Micah was born at 32 weeks, I continued receiving the weekly “your pregnancy” e-mails. But I quit reading then, because first of all, I was far too busy. And second, we no longer wondered how the baby was developing. We were watching him–in the NICU–every day.

Well, Little Boo has officially made it to 34 weeks! And her “pregnancy update” for this week says:

“If you’ve been nervous about preterm labor, you’ll be happy to know that babies born between 34 and 37 weeks who have no other health problems generally do fine. They may need a short stay in the neonatal nursery and may have a few short-term health issues, but in the long run, they usually do as well as full-term babies.”

We’re thrilled to have made it this far. This is the 34-37 week stage! Woo-HOO!!

Bedrest is not fun. But for Little Boo, it is so much better than weeks in the NICU.

So I will lie here for another three weeks . . . that is, unless she decides to make a slightly early appearance. In which case, we are “happy to know” that at this point, she will probably do just fine!

“I Mean, It’s not Crack . .”

That was the nurse practitioner describing the tocolytic I was about to receive.

So, yes, I ended up back in L&D triage this afternoon. After strong contractions four minutes apart through the early (sleepless) morning hours, and then waking up with contractions (not as strong but still four minutes apart), I spent most of my day “contracting.”

Daniel was working from home today, and he decided I really should call the doctor (and we knew the doctor would say to go to triage). So there we were. Again.

We asked our friend Bill, who is working on his dissertation, to come over and sit in the living room during the kids’ naps, which he most graciously did. . .

I know I’m emotional with pregnancy and all, but I really had a hard time putting the kids down for their naps and saying good-by. I was afraid they were going to increase my procardia (like they did with Micah), and it would do nothing for my contractions, but I would have blood pressure issues, and they would have to keep me on the Mom Unit (like they did with Micah).

Once my now-19-month-old Micah was in bed, I sang to him “Great is Thy Faithfulness” (more for me than for him) and then he held up one finger like he does everytime I put him to bed these days, and said, “Muh mo’.” [one more] So I sang one more. He did it again, and I had to say ‘That’s all, buddy. I know you’d have me sing all day long if you could.’

When we got to the hospital, Daniel insisted on pushing me up to Labor and Delivery in a wheelchair, despite the fact that I felt like a total wimp. I said I was pretty sure I could walk, and if I walked, the nurses would have adequate proof that I really was having a lot of contractions. He said we weren’t trying to impress the nurses with how many contractions I was having. I knew he was right–if I had walked, I’m sure my contractions would have just multiplied. He’s a good husband–he’s just what I need.

There were no beds available in triage when I arrived, so we were sent to the waiting room with a huge crowd of people awaiting news on a set of triplets that was to be born that day. Apparently the mom had chosen not to find out whether the babies were boys or girls! (Can you imagine? They had picked out three boys’ names and three girls’ names and were waiting to see what she delivered! Daniel said to me, “With all the logistical challenges in having triplets, why would you add one more by not finding out what they were?” So if we ever have triplets, you know we’ll be finding out whether they are boys or girls or a combination.)

When I did get a bed in “LD,” it was the same old routine: urine sample, hospital gown, cervical exam, various swabs/samples, blood drawn, IV fluids, monitoring the baby’s heart rate, my heart rate, and my contractions. My contractions were steady, 2-3 minutes apart, but varied in intensity. I think they felt worse because I hadn’t slept much last night–I felt nauseous and yucky–and I didn’t know if that was just fatigue or the ever-illusive “something different.”

The nurse practitioner checked my cervix and said, “It’s a loose one.” But it’s still a one, which means after all these contractions, I’ve had basically no cervical change! That was just not the case with Micah. But with Micah they had also waited to put me on any tocolytics until I was already 3 cm and 70% effaced. I’m sure it helps that I’ve been on progesterone for 12 weeks now and procardia for about 2-1/2 weeks.

While they monitored me and waited for results of the fetal fibronectin test, Daniel and I discussed baby names. Unfortunately, I can’t discuss what we discussed, but it was really one of the first opportunities we’ve had to sit and go through names together. I was glad I had made a list, glad Daniel brought his laptop (with my list on it). And surprised by the names he liked and didn’t like. There was one name–a beautiful name–from my list that Daniel contemplated for about half an hour. I was beginning to think it would be Little Boo’s name! While Googling the names’ meaning/ trendiness/ etc, Daniel learned something that completely ruled the name out for him. For one reason or another, every name was scratched off my list. And when Daniel began suggesting new names, there were none that really “grabbed” both of us.

In the end, we arrived back at the name we’ve been contemplating–but got hung up on the spelling. (And no, it doesn’t begin with an ‘M.’ But that’s the only hint I’m giving!) It is still not set in stone, because both of us have a pretty strong opinion on how we’ve “always envisioned” spelling it. We may have to scrap the name altogether and start over. 😉

But I was encouraged that we had the chance to discuss names. Probably we will settle on something soon, and she won’t spend her first three days nameless as Micah did!

My favorite news of the day was that the fetal fibronectin test came back negative again. That means there’s a 99% chance I will not deliver before two weeks from today (almost 35 weeks!). I was so excited that I told Daniel I was going to take myself off bedrest to celebrate! A 35-weeker sounds great to me! At that point, most of the lung development issues are resolved, and many babies can suck well enough at that point that they wouldn’t need tube feeds.

Of course, I was kidding about taking myself off bedrest. But comments like that always scare Daniel. (Sorry dear! Didn’t mean to–I’m just excited!) He started asking me questions like ‘What are the characteristics of the 1% that does deliver within two weeks? Do they have all your symptoms? It seems like you’re in the 1% on everything else–why should this be different?’

The question remained: What to do with all these contractions? Supposedly I’m on–not one, but two–drugs that should be keeping me from contracting.

Marianne, the nurse practitioner, asked about my progesterone and procardia dosage, then went to consult with Dr. C. We overheard the entire conversation.

“She’s contracting like crazy,” we heard her say. “But she’s still only a one.” Marianne recommended terbutaline, which I had read is the tocolytic most commonly given to stop preterm labor. I remembered one of my favorite preemie-mom-bloggers, Heather Spohr from The Spohrs Are Multiplying, being given terbutaline for preterm contractions.

I always wondered why I was given the procardia (nifedipine) instead during both pregnancies. Dr. C approved the terbutaline, so Marianne came to tell me more. It’s a drug that is commonly given orally to treat asthma, by dilating air passages in the lungs. In pregnant patients, terbutaline is injected into the arm and apparently reduces contractions by relaxing the muscles in the uterus. She told us side effects include: tremors, nausea, nervousness, dizziness, headache, drowsiness, heartburn, heart palpitations, fast heart rate, and elevated blood pressure. [Oooo, elevated blood pressure! So between procardia lowering my blood pressure and terbutaline elevating it, my blood pressure should be completely normal, right?] She said the primary feelings patients describe are heart palpitations, shakiness/the “jitters,” and headaches.

Honestly, as she described it to me, I was skeptical. I’m on bedrest. Progesterone. And procardia. They’re not working. Sure, add some terbutaline. It can’t hurt, right?

I think she could read me.

She insisted that it works really fast–within 20 minutes–and added, “It’s really good stuff! . . . I mean, it’s not crack. . .”

Oh, good.

I wish I had taken a picture of the contraction monitor! The graph displayed a constant stream of “hills” and “valleys” with each contraction 2-3 minutes apart. Then suddenly I was given my shot of terbutaline, and the graph literally flat-lined.

I was in awe. I did not know that a drug like this existed! (Although I have to say, my heart racing and jitters felt a lot like the side effects of an epi pen administration. And I came home with a headache–but very few contractions.)

Marianne told us it isn’t a “permanent” fix, but at least, we were able to stop my contractions one more time and buy our Little Boo a few more days, or maybe even weeks. She said we did the right thing coming in and she promised Dr. C that I was “very reliable, and she was sure I would come right back if there was anything unusual.”

I nodded heartily in agreement, while Daniel made some comment about having to twist my arm to get me up here. (Shhh! I want to go home tonight and see our kids!!)

So the combination of the negative result on my fetal fibronectin test and my very positive response to the terbutaline, was enough for Dr. C, who said I could go home.

Personally I think they needed my bed there in triage. There were more pregnant women in the waiting room.

And I was most willing to give it up!

When we got home, Mara greeted me with the most enthusiastic tears of joy imaginable from a three-year-old. Daniel’s mom said she had a hard time when she woke up, dealing with the fact that I was in the hospital again. I guess Micah handled it much better. While Mara hugged me (and wouldn’t let go), Micah hugged Daddy’s legs saying “Dadda!” I guess he knew he should be hugging somebody at that moment.

I’m still pinching myself. I really expected them to try increasing my procardia, and then (when that didn’t work) to keep me, at least overnight. I really didn’t expect a single shot to knock out my contractions. And I really expected to go to bed without my dear family tonight.

“It’s not crack,” but it’s pretty amazing, that terbutaline!

So last night was kind of rough . . .

The whole preterm labor thing can be very frustrating. Trying to figure out whether these contractions are intense enough or frequent enough to call the doc. Because every time I have called, they have sent me to L&D triage (“It’s better to be on the safe side.”)

Almost every night in December I had this struggle between 1 – 3 AM, not my sharpest hours of the day, and a time when I always drifted back to sleep between intense contractions and struggled with how many I’d really had that hour and whether or not they were “like clockwork,” since they would be 6 minutes apart for an hour, except for the 15 minutes when I drifted off, when they were . . . who knows how many minutes apart?

Well, since my hospital stay at the end of December, my contractions have been weaker at night and many nights I’ve even slept through them. I’m sure the procardia has helped and I’m sure bedrest doesn’t hurt either.

But last night from 12:30 -3:30 AM my contractions were rather intense and four minutes apart. I was back to all the mental wrestling: How intense are they really? And are they “like clockwork,” if that time they were only three minutes apart? And: if I go up to the hospital, are they just going to give me IVs, monitor me, say I’m still 1 cm and send me back home? Or (maybe worse) keep me in the hospital for a few days, say I’m still 1 cm and send me back home?

I never know what to do.

This morning I woke up with contractions, still rather strong (not quite as strong as the ones in the middle of the night) but strong enough and close enough, that we decided  we should call the doctor.

So you know the drill . . . “we want you to go on in to Labor and Delivery triage to get checked out and stay on the monitors for a little bit. . . We’ll tell them you’re coming. . .”

[sigh] Here we go again.

At least she’s still inside, I keep reminding myself. She’s not in the NICU. This is a good thing.