Cheerio Confessions

Well, I'm at home with Gavin (who is sound asleep in bed). I'm supposed to be on the couch but my laptop died - again! Such are the joys of having a laptop that is nearly 10 years old with no battery life! So I gave up and came in Rob's office to use the desktop. Rob took Elliott Richard out for ice cream for his birthday. And so it begins...

I knew this was coming. I knew that statistically I was bound to have preterm labor issues because of all the issues I had with Elliott Richard. I just wasn't prepared for those issues to show up now. I will be 20 weeks tomorrow. I had my 20 week appointment and ultrasound scheduled for Thursday, March 6th. They moved both up to this afternoon because of the cramps, contractions, pain and pressure. Not to mention the placenta previa issues and things aren't looking pretty. (Much like Rob's desktop if it doesn't learn to keep up with my 75 wpm typing speed! ARGH!)

The ultrasound was first. Barb spent a good 45 mins to an hour with us. It was nice. Tiny is once again, absolutely perfect. She showed us the nose (nostrils and all!) and we were able to see that everything is perfectly formed with no cleft pallet. (Yay!) We saw all 10 fingers and toes, still no clubbed foot. (Yay!) All the different parts of the brain, present and accounted for. (Yay!) Measuring right on target. (Yay!) Plenty of amniotic fluid. (Yay!) Still no bands. (Double yay!) Placenta is looking good but the placement still isn't great. (Eh.) We got 3 really cute pictures of Tiny doing some thumb sucking. (I'll scan them and post them later.) Barb was struggling to see Tiny's heart because of the funky position Tiny was lying in but she finally got a few shots of what she needed. (Usually Tiny's moves all over the place when the doppler is placed on my belly, I'm thinking the lack of running was a testiment to the lack of room inside. lol)

After the ultrasound, we saw Dr. D. Here are the stats:

Weight 167lb.
BP 110/63
Tiny's HB (heartbeat) 155bpm

We spoke with the nurse about the cramps, contractions, pain and pressure. Then Dr. D came in with one of my favorite nurses, Lori. We talked to them about everything. Unfotunately, at 20 weeks there isn't much that can be done. The few things I know about that will help, I can't have/use/benefit from until 24 weeks. So until then, it's more rest. Less activity. Medication for the pain. Appointments every 2 weeks rather than every 4. Still my weekly pow-wows with Lisa and her needle. Dr. D said that if/when I reach 24 weeks, 28 weeks, 32 weeks, and 36 weeks he will do a dance each time. I asked him if this was "the beginning of the end" and he said "Yeah, now we wait."

I've cried so much today my eyes hurt. I've cried because I love our little Tiny so very much that the thought of not making it to 24 weeks (the age of viability in Ohio) is crushing. I cried because it's days like today that remind me that I can do everything right (I don't smoke - haven't for years. I don't drink hardly ever. I don't do illegal drugs ever. And I certainly don't do any of that while pregnant!) and I still have to fight a battle I may very well not win. While there are women who do everything "wrong" - they smoke, drink, and do drugs - while pregnant and have perfect, healthy, full-term babies! I cried because I'm already missing out on things - Elliott Richard's birthday ice cream, CATS - and I've got (hopefully) 20 weeks to go. I cried because I feel so alone.

Welp, I just heard from the nurse. She said that Dr. D wants me to come in at 3:00pm for an emergency ultrasound and appointment. Fun. Fun.

I wonder if this will be my 20 wk ultrasound even though I'm not 20 wks until tomorrow. Or will I get to see Tiny twice in one week?! :)

I'm hanging out on the couch because I got up to get more water a few minutes ago and the pressure returned. It's not looking good folks. I wonder if I can get an emergency absentee ballot?

Now would be the time to jump start your prayer engines. Pray that the ultrasound shows a healthy Tiny. No placenta previa (another concern as of late - can't remember if I ever posted about that). No cervical changes. PRAY PRAY PRAY!!!

My Matria nurse just left. I've now had 2 of my 18 injections. Let me just tell you, my butt is killing me!!!! And I know it's all psychological but the right side (today's site) hurts. The left side (last week's site) itches. I think it's sympathy "pains". lol

Things in general are looking kind of hairy at this point. I've been having cramping and contractions pretty steady (not timable) yesterday and I woke up with them this morning. I've also been having these strange sharp pains in my cervix off and on with some pressure but nothing major. She's already telling me to talk to my OB about the terb pump (the link for the blog of a fellow high risk pregnant mom on bed rest because I can't find any better info about the terb pump! Shannon knows more than anyone else I've found. lol) and home monitor. I told her that Matria wouldn't allow me to have the monitor until 24 wks but I wasn't sure about the terb pump.*sigh*

Lisa, my nurse, said that my OB gets copies of her weekly reports but she doesn't want me to wait for him to get that. She wants me to call and update him. So I'm currently waiting for my Dr. D's office to call me back. The nurse I spoke with was new and she said that he probably wouldn't want to see me. Of course, she's also so new that she still doesn't know me. All the other nurses know me by name, on sight or by the sound of my voice! But I'll wait. With any luck he'll just want to increase my bed rest and not see me. Ah well, a girl can dream. *sigh*

I'm having such mixed feelings lately. I'm now half way, well tomorrow by my calendars. I really don't want to be half way. I don't want this pregnancy to end because it is most likely my last. I certainly didn't want any of this to happen again. I figured it would but I had hoped I would at least make it to 27 wks again. Looks like no luck. I just want to make it as close to 36 wks as possible. I don't care the Hell I have to live through to get there. I just want a healthy baby.

So...we left off with Elliott Richard making his grand gesture toward freedom...a slow leak in my bag of water. I woke up on Friday, March 3rd, 2006 at around 9:00am. I remember thinking then, "I think I'm leaking fluid." However, I had experienced similar sensations throughout the pregnancy and each was a false alarm. I was determined to be certain that I was leaking before I called anyone!

So we spent the day as we had spent the few before it...walking the local Wal*Mart trying to get my contractions closer than 20 minutes apart. We walked and walked and walked. Then we picked Gavin up from school. Finally, after all that walking and steady trickle I finally called Dr. D's office. It was around 5:00pm. I called my mom and made arrangements for her to get Gavin. While Rob was on the phone with Dr. D's after hour nurse. After we had everyone situated we grabbed my bag and headed off to L&D.

We left the bag and cameras and whatnot in the car because we honestly didn't think it was the real deal. I also didn't stop at Wendy's like I wanted to because I was so sure that we would be released. I figured I would just stop on our way home. Big mistake!

We got there. They checked me - not dilating. (Surprise. Surprise.) Then they "humored" me and checked to see if my water had broken and was leaking. Although they made it clear that they felt it hadn't. Imagine everyone's surprise when they came in and confirmed that I was leaking. (lol) The time to be enduced had finally arrived. (Woo who?)

Then came the mad scramble.

I was being admitted to the hospital. They were arranging for an actual delivery room. Rob was calling family and friends. I sent a text message to Sam telling her that it was in fact time. (She and Rob were my coaches.) She called me and asked if she had enough time to stop and eat. I said yeah she should be fine. Rob went and grabbed the bag and cameras from the car. The staff moved me to my actual L&D room and the fun began...

My IV was started. Pitocin was on board. As was an antibiotic because I had tested positive for Strep B and because my water had most likely been leaking since 9:00am that morning (it was now around 7:00pm) and that increased the chance of infection for both me and Elliott Richard. Once the pit started my contractions finally became more frequent and slightly stronger. From about 7:00pm (when the pit was started) and midnight, I was handling everything pretty well. I was laughing and joking and talking through the contractions. I had to stop and pause with a few of them but they really weren't too bad. Especially compared to the contractions I had with Gavin while on pit. Those were nasty.

At around midnight, they came in and completely broke my water. I had been leaking up to this point but just small amounts. In order for labor to really progress my water needed to be completely broken so that my uterus could fully contract. Once they broke my water completely, I was begging Sam to kick everyone out of the room. I just couldn't hold up the "happy go-lucky pregnant woman in labor" song and dance anymore. Shortly after she sent everyone home I got my epidural. (I'm a huge fan of the epidural!)

Even with the epidural, I was feeling most of my contractions. My legs were numb and tingly and next to impossible for me to move, which made me slightly panicy. But the contractions were still there. They checked me at about 2:00am, I think, and I was something like 6-7cm dilated. At that point, everyone was guesstimating a late morning delivery. Rob and Sam tried to make themselve comfortable in very uncomfortable chairs and get some sleep. I tried to sleep but there was no point. I was still feel too much of the contractions to make real sleep possible. So I sat and watched TV. (For what it's worth, this is when I realized that "late night television" aside from Jay Leno et al is simply "day time television" all over again. Huge disappointment for someone desperately looking for a distraction.)

I think I dozed off and on for a little while. Then at about 5:00am I woke up. And I mean, I.Woke.Up! The contractions were pushing right through the epidural. I suddenly felt really funny too. I could describe it. I don't remember feeling that way with Gavin. I just felt...panicy and "off".

I tried to wake Rob but he's a pretty heavy sleeper and he was out! So I woke Sam up. I vaguely remember her asking me what I wanted her to do and I said I didn't know but something had changed. She left to grab a nurse. The nurse checked me (I think it was more of a technicality than anything at that point.) and was shocked to find me fully dilated, fully effaced and ready to go.

It was time! And I was terrified.

Sam woke Rob up. The nurse grabbed Dr. D. They prepped Elliott's bed. The funny thing is that all of this is going on. I'm feeling the contractions and the need to push but I have to wait because they weren't ready. And what I really remember about those moments, was the intern. (lol) Prior to my delivery Dr. D and I had discussed interns and med students in general. I said I would permit them to check my progress during labor but that when it came time to catch, they weren't allowed in the same room. Period. (This stems from Gavin's delivery.) I only permitted them to check my progress so that Dr. D could sleep and whatnot. Well, here we were... go time. And Dr. D's shy little intern comes over and asks if I will allow him to stay. He said he wouldn't touch anything, he just wanted to watch because he hadn't seen a vaginal delivery yet. I said he could stay. He could watch. He touched nothing!

I don't really remember pushing. I don't remember the pain of those contractions. I just remember being amazed that I had managed to push him out so quickly.

Elliott Richard was born on Saturday, March 4th, 2006 @ 5:20am. He weighed 7 lb 8oz and was 19 inches long.

In those first few moments after his birth, my emotions ran the gamut. I was thrilled. Then I was crushed. When they handed Elliott to me he didn't cry so much as grunt. I tried to calm and soothe him. But I couldn't. He just kept grunting. I thought for sure it had to do with me. It devasted me.

Rob held him. Sam held him, I think. We took gobs of pictures and video. We introduced Gavin to his baby brother. And then Elliott to his grandparents. Then the nursery staff took him from us for a bath and testing.

After I was all cleaned up and stitched up they wheeled me to my private recovery room. I remember my Grammy and Auntie Sharon visiting. Sam went to her father-in-laws to sleep. And the neonatologist came in.

He said they were concerned about Elliott's breathing and wanted to take him to the NICU for observation. I was drugged, exhausted, hormonal and completely taken off-guard. Luckily, my Auntie Sharon had the presence of mind to ask (well, it wasn't so much as request as a demand) if I could hold Elliott before they took him to the NICU. The neonatologist hesitated and she pushed forward. He said I could hold him for a few minutes but then he really needed to go.

I've always been blessed in that I seem to bond emotionally with my children from the start. I bonded with Elliott in those first few moments before they took him away to the NICU. In those moments, I knew that all of the injections and hospital stays had been worth it.

After they took Elliott to the NICU my nurse let me eat and sleep. Then she brought me a breast pump so that I could pump for Elliott. I admit in those moments, I wanted to "rebel". I wanted to scream and cry. I wanted to call my nurse back and tell her that I wasn't pumping. The plan was for me to nurse not pump! And she couldn't make me.

I didn't do any of those things. I pumped. And then I labeled the containers with stickers the NICU sent to my room. Stickers that didn't even have his name on them. They all said "Baby Boy G". I held those containers as if they were a lifeline when Rob wheeled me to the NICU for that first visit. They were the only thing I was allowed to do for Elliott in those first few days. That stupid, painful breast pump that I hated more than anything else (it had become my "scape goat") and those containers were my sanity and the only ounce of control I had. And I clung to them for dear life.

Honestly, what choice did I have?

My pregnancy with Gavin was pretty quiet. However, I had a lot of stress and was hoping for a fairly stress-free and "textbook" pregnancy. Alas, that was not to be.

Elliott Richard's pregnancy started off quiet and "textbook". Then a few things happened all at once. Toward the end of my first Trimester, I began cramping and coincidentally my ex-mother-in-law filed her original contempt motion seeking to have me thrown in jail. About this time, Gavin's behavior took a scary and disturbing turn so Rob and I made a conference appointment with his pediatrician to discuss our options. He referred us to a new psychiatrist in town, Dr. R. We met with Dr. R fully expecting a diagnosis of ADHD or something similar. We got a nightmare roller coaster involving CPS (Child Protective Services) and our local courts. All of this obviously equaled insane amounts of stress for me.

Then to add a little salt to the wounds, my OB decides to retire out of nowhere! How does he tell his patients this little tid bit of news? By posting a letter to his door! So there I am four months pregnant with no OB. He referred me to a few new OB's but I had learned from his door notice stunt, that anyone he was endorsing was not the person I wanted to deliver my child. So I began going page by page, name by name through my insurance companies books of covered doctors. I looked them up online. I researched my butt off. And still had no idea who I was going to see.

Finally, God stepped in (as he so often does) and led the way. As I poured over that book of doctors and did my research one name kept jumping out at me, Dr. D. I didn't know why but it did. So I did what any self-respecting mother does at that point, I called my Mommy. And she did what she does as my Mommy, she gave me the answer. She told me to call my Aunt Carol because she works in the hospital where I deliver my children. She's worked there for years. So I called her. I asked her what she knew of Dr. D and as it turns out, Dr. D delivered my cousin's baby 11 years ago! She had nothing but positive and wonderful things to say about him, which made my choice clear. I had found my OB! :)

Things were quiet for a while after the OB drama. My cousin, Sam, got married in September. Rob's brother, Jon, got married in October. We had Thanksgiving (my all-time favorite holiday). Then Christmas. All the while Elliott Richard and I were cruising along. Slightly more stressed than usual but happy and healthy nonetheless. We even managed to survive New Years Eve. Granted we had a view visits to L&D for contractions and cramping. But nothing major. Nothing serious. Then, just before Gavin's 6th birthday it all changed.

At 27 weeks, I called Dr. D's office about a few contractions I was having. They weren't consistent or timeable but they were painful. The office was getting ready to close so they had me go to L&D for monitoring. Of course, I get there and I'm feeling the contractions but like always they weren't showing up on the monitor. Just to be on the safe side they did the fFN test. Everyone fully expected it to come back negative. It didn't. It came back positive. Suddenly my contractions that I was feeling and they weren't seeing became a big deal. I was admitted to the hospital and stayed there for a few days while they started me on terb and played with the dosage. In the end, they sent me home with a prescription for the terb and orders for bed rest.

A few weeks later, at 29 weeks I called about the contractions again. Again they weren't getting closer together or more timable but they were definitely more painful. I had called after hours so they had me go to L&D just to be sure. Also for the week before, I had also been having a sharp stabbing pain in the left side of my groin/hip joint. I figured the hip pain was just from me laying funny so I didn't mention it on the phone. Then as I changed my clothes I noticed my left leg was red, warm to the touch and nearly twice it's normal size. The monitoring in L&D showed I was in fact having more contractions. I also failed the fFN again. The major concern at that point was my leg because it was becoming more and more evident that I had developed a DVT while on bed rest.

Dr. D began ordering all of the necessary tests to help determine how bad things had gotten. I was started on Lovenox, a blood thinner, because I could not do thrombolitic treatments while pregnant, which is what they normally do for a patient with a DVT. All told I was in the antepartum wing of L&D for nearly 2 weeks. They ran gobs of tests included genetic testing for any and all clotting disorders. Everything kept coming back fine. In the end, Dr. D sent me home with orders for Lovenox, more terb and more bed rest.

That was the last major issue Elliott or I had during the pregnancy. Everything stayed pretty quite and medicated until Dr.D told me to stop the terb at 36 weeks. I then spent a few days walking Wal*Mart and the local mall trying to get my contractions closer together than 20 minutes. Ultimately, Elliott Richard decided to break his bag of waters. I joked that he grew tired of us using medications to stop his early escape so he did the only thing he could. He broke my water! lol

I know in past posts I've told bits and pieces of Elliott Richard's story but I want to take a moment and tell you his whole story.

Before.
Pregnancy.
Labor & Delivery.
The NICU.
Home.
The Aftermath.

In February 2005, Rob and I found out that we were pregnant. I was over the moon! But something was off. The pregnancy tests couldn't seem to make up their minds. Positive. Negative. Faint Positive. I was worried but at the same time, I wasn't because of my experience with Gavin's pregnancy and pregnancy tests. Just like with Gavin's pregnancy I thought this one would go to term. It never crossed my mind that I would miscarry. And that's exactly what happened.

I was crushed.

Then on March 24, 2005, I saw my OB/GYN at the time (not Dr. D). I was having issues with my cycles staying regular and whatnot even before the miscarriage. I went expecting to hear that my hormone levels were out of whack or something similar. What I heard was devasting.

This woman, with no bed side manner, walked in the exam room. Looked at me. Said, "We don't know why but your infertile. You won't ever conceive again." I don't think I even asked questions. And I don't remember the rest of the appointment. My life had shattered in that moment.

In the weeks following the miscarriage, I was a mess. I fell apart. Even after having Gavin, I didn't realize how attached you become to that tiny person from the get-go. And then a month later, I've got this woman turning my lift upside down again. It killed me.

Slowly, time moved on. Constantly marching forward no matter how much we drag our feet. Time moved on. Rob moved on. And slowly over time, so did I.

Then in July 2005, I woke up one morning and Rob said, "I think you need to pee on a stick." I just looked at him. How could he say that? What sick joke was this he was playing? But I've learned over the past 7 years to listen to Rob's gut. More often than not, it's usually right. So I went in the bathroom and I peed on a stick that we had left over from before March 24, 2005. Then I walked away. I wasn't going to stand there and have my heart broken again. I couldn't do that.

Imagine my surprise when I went back in the bathroom and saw two pink lines.

Rob and I were absolutely terrified when those two pink lines showed up. I honestly don't know if he really expected them to show up. I've never asked him. I know I didn't. He ran out and bought a set of the digital tests that say either "pregnant" or "not pregnant" so that we could eliminate human error. (As any woman who has tried to conceive can testify to, when you pee on the stick...you twist it, you turn it, you hold it up to the light, you look at it in the dark. Some women even take pictures and make it a "negative" photo to look for lines. Any line that shows up with the control line, is cause for hope.)

I waited a few hours and then peed on one of the digital sticks. We watched and waited while that stupid little hourglass icon flashed at us. I felt like it was mocking us. "Ha ha! You think you're actually pregnant?! Ha ha!" I swear that stupid little hourglass flashed at us for what felt like forever! Then, finally, it stopped. It stopped. It disappeared. And "Pregnant" appeared.

Oh.my.gosh.

I know my heart stopped. We were pregnant.