Tuesday, April 13, 2010

31 Weeks, 1 Day: I Take It All Back

I have been a whiny baby lately, complaining about this pregnancy and how I am "done".

I lied. I'm not done. I wish it were easier, but I want him to be healthy. And be in there as close to full-term as possible.

I'm nervous. Today, I have to go back to the doctor to "check everything out". They're worried about my BP and pregnancy-induced hypertension. Not pre-eclampsia yet, as none of my lab values mesh with that. Urine, blood..everything was normal but my blood pressure. My BP has always been perfect. As a matter of fact, when pregnant with E, I was on Procardia for preterm labor and they had to stop it because it would cause my normal BP to drop, then when I would do anything that would cause it to lower more, I would randomly pass out. I had to take cold showers bcause the heat would cause me to vasodilate and John would hear a big thunk! where I would hit the floor. So when oral brethine didn't work this time, that is how I ended up on the pump. They didn't want to add nifidepine to the mix.

So yesterday, when they sent me to the hospital for PIH, I was the talk of L&D. From my stretcher in triage, I could hear the doctors and nurses at the nurses' station talking about it. "She's here for PIH and on a brethine pump!" They kept implying that it would have to be stopped, and the doctor that sent me to the hospital in the first place even said so much--that if BP became a problem, they would have to stop it.

Hmmm. Stopping the brethine pump.....

I've been fantasizing about this for weeks. What it would be like to sleep without worrying about rolling over on the tubing and occluding it. Of worrying about the syringe emptying in the middle of the night, causing me to miss a scheduled bolus and wake up contracting. To be able to take a hot bath because there is no catheter on my thigh that cannot be submerged in water. To be able to go to a doctor's appointment or anywhere else and not have to worry if I have enough batteries or meds to survive the trip without going into labor. About not having something constantly attached to my body.

And if they stop the pump,they are going to stop everything. My progesterone shots. Most likely my home monitor that works in conjunction with the pump. I'm getting scared.

The truth is that, while I have been getting really sick of this stuff, I also realize that there have been countless times where I have avoided hospitalization because of it. And as much as I hate it, I hate being in the hospital even more. And I know that, while they have spent months trying to find the delicate balance of injection frequencies and infusion rates to keep me from having breakthrough episodes of contractions, those breakthroughs would occur more frequently without the stuff. Or my contractions just won't stop, period. And my beloved son will be born too early. Or if he isn't, I will lay in misery in a hospital bed, contracting away, in pain, with my needs not being taken into consideration as I incubate him longer. Neither one is an option I can live with right now.

I'm really scared for myself. And terrified for Zachary.

2 comments:

  1. I hear you on this. There are times when I say, I am done, but the truth is, it would be nice to have him in there as long as possible so he's healthy when he's born. When I first started taking Nifedipine, I would nearly faint or vomit after a shower because of the heat. I ended up bringing water in with me, so I could sit down on the toilet and stop from feeling so sick. Eventually, my body must have gotten used to the medicine, because it doesn't happen anymore. Only when I accidentally double dose do I really feel the side effects of the drug. From the looks of your facebook status to the left of this post, it looks as though you might have been sent to the hospital. I'm rooting for you that you won't be there for too long.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I was---sent and released. I was having pain, but when I went to the dr. to get checked out my BP was through the roof. All is well now.

    ReplyDelete