Preterm Labor: the Sequel

Over the last few months, I've been too busy to blog. Either that, or the self-esteem issues that come with my chronic depression have done a good job of convincing me that blogging is pointless because "no one wants to hear what you have to say anyway." Possibly both.
I didn't even bother to post the news about our "new addition." But now due to mandatory medical leave, I seem to have time for writing once more.
Shirley's fervent prayers for a little sister (the week where she prayed "and if the baby is a little brother--I guess I'll keep it" was particularly memorable)  are in the process of being answered. Carol Marzetta Mackey should show up for her scheduled C-section November 27th.
However, last week, Carol apparently got tired of waiting and I wound up in the local ER with contractions every 3-4 minutes. ("Dr. Obstetrician was looking over your chart from home and said he was really impressed with how strong and regular they were" isn't something you really want to hear from the staff. Unless they're giving out prizes--but all I got was some drugs that make me a cranky space cadet.)
So now I'm home for the remainder of this week and taking meds to stop the contractions. The meds help stop the contractions, but the side effects are a pain. I've got a massive constant headache, dizziness, feel exhausted, nauseous, anxious, and can't concentrate on anything for more than a couple of minutes. It's like having mono with a side order of paranoia.

Crampy and cranky

As much as I hated the last month or so of pregnancy, the hiatus from menstruation for fifteen months was fantastic. Not bleeding and feeling crampy for 25% of every month was wonderful.

Unfortunately, my "friend" made a sudden reappearance this week. (Where did we get that euphemism, anyway? What sort of "friend" makes a woman want to grab a weapon and go to the grocery store screaming "give me all your chocolate and no one gets hurt!"?)

The bleeding is annoying, but it's all part of womanhood. The cramping, however... I'm sure "incapacitating" is probably a bit of hyperbole, but I've spent the last two days sitting on the couch with a heating pad. Not only have I been too ill to knit, but the only reason dinner happened at all yesterday was because all I had to do was throw spareribs, tomato sauce, and a can of peaches in the crock pot. Fortunately, the last two days were my "weekend" off from work.

I'm supposed to be at work right now, but as I've been using the Lortab left over from my C-section to keep the pain under control, I called in sick today. I know how short-staffed they are and I hate to make it worse, but if non-narcotic pain killers aren't touching the cramps, I have no business taking care of other people today.

I don't think it's worth adding a new family member, but I'm really starting to get nostalgic about pregnancy and not having a period for at least nine months. Guess it's time to call my sister-in-law and see how the fetal boxing practice is going.

Dumb things to say

Because I'm still having contractions and feeling rather peevish, I'd like to present a list of the top five stupid things that people have said to me since I've gotten pregnant with Shirley, as well as what I wish I'd said in response:

5. [Said by one of the nurses in Kansas as I was making a frantic dash down the corridor to the restroom:] "Is the morning sickness still bothering you?"
[Preceded by retching noises and the spontaneous creation of a large mess in the hall] "No--I always interrupt morning report to sprint to the toilet!"

4. [From one of the nurses at my current employer when the preterm labor started:] "When you go home, put your feet up and have a couple of glasses of wine. If the contractions stop after that, it's not real labor."
"Gee, I could have sworn alcohol was bad during pregnancy for some reason." (For a list of reasons why, look here, here, and here .)

3. [From one of the triage nurses at on a visit for preterm labor:] "You don't have any stretch marks--that's disgusting!"
"Does the fact that I had morning sickness for five months make you feel any better about my body?"

2. [From several close relatives, who shall remain nameless:] "You will call us when Shirley arrives, won't you?"
"No, we thought we'd just send a telegram."

And the award-winner happened at church Sunday night: "Have you had the baby yet?"
"Yeah--we just left a newborn at home by herself for four hours!"
(Although I must admit, I am choosing to be flattered that she apparently didn't think I looked like I still was nine months pregnant.)

The weekly cervix report

I'm still having contractions. On the list of "discomforts of pregnancy," I'd say they're more fun than five months of morning sickness but less enjoyable than Shirley's regular attempts to head-butt one of my kidneys while simultaneously kicking the other. (Which tells you how I feel about puking.)

Fortunately, my ADHD tendency to "space out" has come back in spades this week. I say fortunately because that (and Unisom) have made it much easier to cope with the pain from the contractions. Unfortunately, my body has apparently trained my mind to do these little space outs without my conscious control. While it's been nice to be less aware of the pain (I'm telling you, not hurting does wonders for my mood!) it also means that I'm much less aware of everything else. At the end of the day, there are quite literally gaps in my memory of hours at a time because my brain apparently just wasn't paying attention. Guess it's good practice for when Alzheimer's kicks in!

Aunt Tig's birthday was Tuesday. Since she is one of the women named Shirley we're naming the baby after, we tried to use this to our advantage. "Come on honey, February 19th is a great day to be born a Shirley!" was spoken to my belly more than once on Tuesday, but she didn't buy it.

Because it was Wednesday, we saw the obstetrician again yesterday. And my cervix is slowly dilating--it's now a little over 1cm, which is more than it was last week. So these contractions are serving their purpose (make my cervix dilate so Shirley can come) but it's taking a loooooong time.

I'm not completely sure why, but the doc wants another ultrasound on Tuesday. And it's probably not going to happen, but I really hope I can call to cancel the appointment before then and say "The baby arrived, so I won't be coming in!"

In praise of Unisom

Well, I'm still having regular contractions every 5-10 minutes. And they still hurt. Between the pain, the near-constant nausea (even with Zofran on board, I've been living off clear liquids, toast and bagels) and the lack of sleep from the contractions, I've really been feeling like I'm reaching the end of my physical and emotional tether. My mood is gradually (who am I kidding?) rapidly getting bitchier, but Shirley has not deigned to grace us with her presence yet.

At the weekly obstetrician visit yesterday, the doc told me that while she was sorry I was experiencing so much pain and nausea, it looked as though it would be a while before the next stage of labor begins. She did offer to send me back to triage for morphine, but I declined. If all the hospital will do at this point is pump me full of drugs for the pain, help Brian shovel me into the car, and send me home to sleep it off, I think I'll pass. I can drug myself into insensibility at home, thank you very much!

While I don't have any narcotics, I do have a nice stash of over the counter sleep aids. So when we got home, I took a Unisom (it's safe during pregnancy!) and crashed for several hours. Although I woke up with an impressive hangover, six hours of uninterupted sleep definitely improved both my overall mood and ability to "tune out" the pain from the contractions.

I'm still not sure when Shirley will choose to show up, but I'd better stock up on sleep while I still can!

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.

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 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.

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.