For the last several OB-GYN visits, the doc has been expressing some concern that Shirley is a bit "small for dates." Which is a fancy medical way of saying that given my expected due date, she isn't measuring nearly as big as they would expect.
So yesterday I had another ultrasound to determine... something. (Unfortunately, I can't post the pictures from the laptop, as it has no scanner.) Brian and I were under the impression that the ultrasound was to sort out precisesly when Shirley was due, but the radiologist made a big point of saying that ultrasounds this late in pregnancy are unreliable for predicting due dates. (Something like a plus or minus three week margin of error.)
The ultrasound showed that Shirley is still smaller than would be expected given my due date, but she's completely normal. As Brian and I are both skinny people who come from families of skinny people, I'm not really expecting to pop out a 9 pound Amazon!
Apparently the OB is going with the first due date of March 3, 2008. Which means that I'm actually 34 weeks along. She also said that if I can get to 36 weeks gestation, I can get off the bedrest and the medications! (The risk of "neonatal mortality and morbidity" (more medicalspeak for "infant death and/or lasting handicaps") from prematurity drops significantly after 34 weeks, and anything after 37 weeks is considered "full-term.") While I won't be able to go back to work, I'm really looking forward to going out in public for things other than doctor's appointments!
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Triage part II
Shirley's chances of being an only child go up with every trip we make to MPHS' Labor and Delivery triage.
And thank God the health insurance kicked in on the first!
I had regular contractions pretty much all of last week, but they only happened when I was standing or walking. And if the contractions go away if you're lying down, it's not "real labor." (To which I would like to point out that if it's called "false labor," it should NOT cause real pain.) The OB told me she wanted me to stay off my feet as much as possible ("no sex, no vacuuming, no scrubbing the floors." If I don't feel like having sex, what are the chances I'm feeling like doing heavy-duty housework?) and wouldn't let me go back to work until after Shirley arrives.
While the idea of not having to get up at 0500 five days a week does have a certain appeal, the lost income worries me. We've had worse financial crises in the past and God has gotten us through them--but the fact that rent and utilities here equal what my monthly paycheck was in Kansas makes me a bit nervous.
So I spent most of last week laying or sitting on the couch. All went well until church yesterday afternoon, when I started having contractions that didn't go away when I laid down. So off to the hospital for yet another round of baby monitoring, followed by IV fluids and more good drugs to make the contractions stop. (Terbutaline is a very useful and powerful medication. Unfortunately, it also makes me feel as though a gerbil on methamphetamine is running around inside my head.)
And now I'm officially on bed rest (I can get up to the bathroom, and take a quick shower, but other than that I'm expected to be laying down. Good thing this couch is well-padded--I would have hated to do this on our last one!) until Shirley shows up. The doc also put me on meds EVERY 4 HOURS to make the contractions stop and hopefully ensure that Shirley arrives on time, rather than seven weeks early.
I can use a laptop laying down, but knitting and spinning from this angle require some creative arm movements. I'm not sure how much I'll be able to do. Which really is a shame, because that Mongolian cashmere/mulberry silk top is calling to me.
And thank God the health insurance kicked in on the first!
I had regular contractions pretty much all of last week, but they only happened when I was standing or walking. And if the contractions go away if you're lying down, it's not "real labor." (To which I would like to point out that if it's called "false labor," it should NOT cause real pain.) The OB told me she wanted me to stay off my feet as much as possible ("no sex, no vacuuming, no scrubbing the floors." If I don't feel like having sex, what are the chances I'm feeling like doing heavy-duty housework?) and wouldn't let me go back to work until after Shirley arrives.
While the idea of not having to get up at 0500 five days a week does have a certain appeal, the lost income worries me. We've had worse financial crises in the past and God has gotten us through them--but the fact that rent and utilities here equal what my monthly paycheck was in Kansas makes me a bit nervous.
So I spent most of last week laying or sitting on the couch. All went well until church yesterday afternoon, when I started having contractions that didn't go away when I laid down. So off to the hospital for yet another round of baby monitoring, followed by IV fluids and more good drugs to make the contractions stop. (Terbutaline is a very useful and powerful medication. Unfortunately, it also makes me feel as though a gerbil on methamphetamine is running around inside my head.)
And now I'm officially on bed rest (I can get up to the bathroom, and take a quick shower, but other than that I'm expected to be laying down. Good thing this couch is well-padded--I would have hated to do this on our last one!) until Shirley shows up. The doc also put me on meds EVERY 4 HOURS to make the contractions stop and hopefully ensure that Shirley arrives on time, rather than seven weeks early.
I can use a laptop laying down, but knitting and spinning from this angle require some creative arm movements. I'm not sure how much I'll be able to do. Which really is a shame, because that Mongolian cashmere/mulberry silk top is calling to me.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Contractions hurt!
Everyone who reads my blog title and has children is no doubt laughing their heads off right now at my grasp of the obvious. (If I were a superhero, I'd be "Mistress of the Obvious." I'm not sure if I'd have a cape or just wear a sparkly leotard. Perhaps both.)
I started having contractions at work yesterday. I was able to finish my shift without too much problems, but have you ever considered how awkward it is to call the obstetrician on your lunch break while you're surrounded by nurses? However, I did get more offers of help the second half of my shift, as well as some very interesting tips on how to tell the difference between false labor and real labor.
"When you go home, put up your feet and have a couple of glasses of wine," one of the most experienced nurses advised. "If the contractions stop after that, it's not real labor."
"Brooke, I don't drink," I replied.
"Oh, then make sure you buy the good stuff, not some rotgut." (Methinks Brooke and I had a bit of a failure to communicate...)
So when I went home, had put my feet up, eaten something, had a nice drink (of herbal tea) and was still having contractions every twelve minutes, I knew it was time to call the doc again. (At this point, I didn't care if it was "real labor" or "false labor." I just knew that I'd exhausted my bag of tricks for making them stop and it was time for professional help.)
He told me to go to the labor and delivery floor's triage to get checked out. They slapped a monitor on me, and told me that both I and Shirley were fine, but yes, those were contractions. Then they gave me some drugs to stop the contractions, told me to call the doc again this morning, and sent me home. Total time in MPHS' L&D: one hour, 45 minutes. Those gals are efficient!
I started having contractions at work yesterday. I was able to finish my shift without too much problems, but have you ever considered how awkward it is to call the obstetrician on your lunch break while you're surrounded by nurses? However, I did get more offers of help the second half of my shift, as well as some very interesting tips on how to tell the difference between false labor and real labor.
"When you go home, put up your feet and have a couple of glasses of wine," one of the most experienced nurses advised. "If the contractions stop after that, it's not real labor."
"Brooke, I don't drink," I replied.
"Oh, then make sure you buy the good stuff, not some rotgut." (Methinks Brooke and I had a bit of a failure to communicate...)
So when I went home, had put my feet up, eaten something, had a nice drink (of herbal tea) and was still having contractions every twelve minutes, I knew it was time to call the doc again. (At this point, I didn't care if it was "real labor" or "false labor." I just knew that I'd exhausted my bag of tricks for making them stop and it was time for professional help.)
He told me to go to the labor and delivery floor's triage to get checked out. They slapped a monitor on me, and told me that both I and Shirley were fine, but yes, those were contractions. Then they gave me some drugs to stop the contractions, told me to call the doc again this morning, and sent me home. Total time in MPHS' L&D: one hour, 45 minutes. Those gals are efficient!
I spent most of today resting and trying to ignore the periodic random contractions that were still happening every hour or so, but was strangely comforted by the fact that Shirley did her regular dance routine as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
So tomorrow I get to see the doc/nurse practitioner/somebody who can deliver babies and have more tests run before I find out if/when I can go back to work. I'd planned to work until 38 weeks, but we'll see what happens. If I have to go on maternity leave early, at least I'll get lots of spinning and knitting done.
So tomorrow I get to see the doc/nurse practitioner/somebody who can deliver babies and have more tests run before I find out if/when I can go back to work. I'd planned to work until 38 weeks, but we'll see what happens. If I have to go on maternity leave early, at least I'll get lots of spinning and knitting done.
Brian spoiled me rotten for Christmas. Let's see.. the brown bag is baby camel roving, the yellow bags are buffalo roving, the one with the pink label is 50/50 Mongolian cashmere and mulberry silk, and the little white baggies are yak. I've no idea what I'm going to make with any of it, but I'm sure I'll have lots of fun.
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