28 wks, 4 days: Yesterday's Ultrasound and Why Medical People Should Not Be Allowed to Google

Hmmmm. Apparently the Indocin I got in the hospital can cause some side effects. Lowered amniotic fluid levels (oligohydramnios), as well as heart defects in the fetus. I wish I would have known this then, but nobody told me, and I honestly did not ask. I realize that sometimes it is just a matter of the risk out-weighing the benefits, and vice versa. And I trust my doctors. Looking back, they were very judicious with its use, and now I know why. I can't be upset or angry. When you have a patient who is 27/28 weeks preggers, contracting every 2 minutes, you simply have to make it stop. And they did.

So anyhow...They wanted me to go in for a STAT ultrasound yesterday to check things out and survey for any possible damage. So I go. J drives me, and sits in the car with E. It is the first time he has missed an ultrasound, and he is bummed about it, but I don't know what all they are going to do, and feel like E shouldn't be there in case they want to do something that reveals part of me that should not be revealed to my 8-year-old son.

The baby seems perfect. Too perfect. He had taken up residence by my rib cage, with his little feet dangling downward. Which explains the full feeling I had. He was literally, crown to rump, right there. His little heart was doing exactly like it should. His organs appeared to be intact. And he is still big. As in they estimate his size to be 3 pounds, 15 ounces right now. This places him in the 95th percentile for size at this gestation. If a baby truly puts on a half a pound a week in the last trimester, that would mean he would be over 9 pounds at full-term, and somewhere around 6 at 34-35 weeks. Looking back, E was 6 pounds when born at 34 weeks, so he would've been a big boy too, had I carried him to term. So this is famliar territory.

But the fluid...At 26 weeks, I had excess amniotic fluid. I still do, and it has worsened. I know the dangers of low fluid. I have resuscitated babies in the NICU for this problem. But too much? Huh? Could it be bad? I ask the tech who did my ultrasound,and she said the first thought with both a big baby and excess fluid would be gestational diabetes. I don't have that. My 1-hour glucose tolerance test was normal, but since I met the clinical picture for diabetes, they made me do the 3-hour one anyhow, and it was also perfect. So no, not that. I asked if it could be dangerous, and she told me that it gives the baby more room to flip and turn, so there is an increased risk of cord entanglement. So far, Zachary is fine. She also said with the uterus being bigger than normal, it can fool the body into thinking it is further along than it is, and can cause preterm labor and birth. Things that make you go Hmmmmmmm...

So I come home, and I start to google polyhydramnios. Bad. Very bad. When you have no idea what you are reading, googling medical info can seem scary, but ignorance puts a blinder on you in a way. But when you know, like I know, what some of these things are, it can scare you to death. I should not be allowed to google anything medical. I should block the action from my computer. Kidney anomalies, diaphragmatic hernia, heart defects, swallowing and GI defects, other generalized birth defects. Uhhh.

So now I am scared. And even more anxious for this pregnancy to be finished so I know Z is okay.

27 Wks, 6 Days: Again. Seriously?

Okay, so I wake up Saturday morning, the morning after I was up until 3:30 AM doing the monitor-bolus thing. I actually wake up about 4 hours later, at 7:30. I'm still contracting. Not bad, but I am not eager to repeat the experience of the night before all day so I keep my mouth shut. And I wait. In fact, I wait too long, and the contractions get closer and closer together. Finally, at about 11 AM, I put myself on the monitor for an hour. And then I send it. And then the nurse calls back. 27 contractions that hour, between 11 and noon. She asks me how I feel, and I am brutally honest:

"I feel like, if I could dilate, I would've already had this baby. I feel like my body is trying to deliver him, and I am fed up."

I tell her that I'm not sure that the contractions ever really stopped. I know I slept for about 4 hours, and have no idea if they continued then or not. I just know they were there when I went to bed, and they were there when I woke up. That's all. So she decides to skip the monitor-bolus routine and just calls my doctor. And they want to send me to the hospital. I tell her I am going to shower and eat first, and then I will go, and I do. Within 30 minutes, we are on our way.

The doctor has decided before I even get there that I am most likely going to stay. I do. They start the mag sulfate drip at 3.0 grams, and off I go to my room. But the contractions don't stop. I get Indocin for the first time ever, and that slows them to a stop. Over the course of the first night, they wean the mag to 2.0 grams. Then the contractions start back up again somewhere in the middle of the night. And continue. More Indocin the next day. They stop again. Another doctor is on call for the practice and he comes in and tells me to just hang on until "the completion of 31 weeks" and that the "mortality rate decreases to zero at that point". Uh. Okay.

But this time, the nurses have me worried. And J. They are talking about risk of uterine rupture. They tell me that they have seen where a woman contracts and contracts against a closed cervix and finally, her uterus ruptures. This scares me to death, and is something I had not considered up until that point. Something new to worry about.

Over the course of 3 days, the contractions come and go. They make changes to my medications. And they keep me there. I'm not even allowed to bathe. I am so dirty I can smell myself and feel like the right to have my most basic needs met has been stripped away from me. Finally, J arrives with an arsenal of bath products, and I perch on a stool while he gives me a sponge bath. This, of course, is against doctor's orders, but I don't care at this point. I am in tears and miserable, so my nurse doesn't even try to force the issue, but instead tells me to let her know when I am finished and quietly closes the door. I am so grateful at that point to have a husband who loves me unconditionally, because I am nasty. And he doesn't say a word, but instead, helps me clean myslef up.

Finally, on Monday night, I get my progesterone injection. From that point on, I have 3 contractions. Total. The doctor comes in Tuesday and I immediately ask him if I can go home. He looks at my strip on the uterine monitor and says he sees no reason to keep me. I am free. And happy.

I leave that place hoping that the next time I am there, I will leave with a baby. I have about four and a half weeks left before I will be okay to deliver. Before I will reach the point I did in E's pregnancy. And I know now that, with the way Zachary looks in utero, he will most likely be fine from this point on. Every week from here on out is just icing on the cake for me. No one wants a preemie, but I am to the point where I am finished. And I'm just tryingto hang on. The point of viability has come and gone.