This time I have potentially the best excuse ever for dropping off the face of the earth. Three weeks ago I was admitted to the hospital for preterm labor and a shortening cervix.
The great news is that we staved off labor, my cervix eventually stabilized (though it's still quite short), and ultimately Baby Boy is still safe and sound in his ever-more cramped abode. The cervical shortening had been progressing over the course of a few weeks before I was admitted. (Actually, the Monday prior involved a day long stay in L&D due to contractions and worry, but I was home on bedrest for the rest of that week.)
It was spotting (bright red and a couple of small clots) that send us running to L&D, and then once we got here, preterm labor followed within a couple of hours. We had another episode the following morning.
I had about 52 hours of mag sulfate and full round of steroids (two doses) for Baby Boy over the first few days. The morphine is what really seemed to do the trick to eventually space out the contractions, though. My cervix shortened from an original 37 mm down to 13 about a week after my admitance. But since then, it's stabilized and even increased by 1 mm at each of the last weekly ultrasounds, up to 15 mm.
I've had one other episode of pre-term labor last Sunday that nearly landed me back in L&D (versus antenatal, where I currently reside). Tuesday evening was a little iffy, but I've learned a bit about how to relax and not go into a stress spiral that ramps things up. We've also hypothesized that Baby Boy flipping completely (twice in the last week) may be enough stress on my uterus to trigger these rounds of contractions. I like that notion better than the idea that my body is trying to go into labor and there's not much we can do about it.
No doubt about it, bedrest (especially the hospital variety) sucks just about as badly as you might suspect. It's completely worth it, particularly when working, and I could not be more grateful that we're at 29 weeks tomorrow with a big, healthy baby - not a 26-weeker in the NICU who didn't get steroids or mag.
Patrick has been mindblowingly amazing. (As a sidenote that's really worthy of a whole entry, Patrick was laid off the week before our wedding in a big reduction-in-force after 10 years with his company. He has a great severance package that's keeping us level, but we're anxious for his next career move to finalize.) He's taken care of my every need and kept the girls so happy and well-cared for. I'm amazed by him at every turn.
This week was spring break and he took Hannah and Caroline on a whole week-long adventure around town - the state history museum, an IMAX movie, parks, the zoo, one of those wall-to-wall trampoline places, a cavern.
Still, the hardest part of all of this by far has been the double-edged sword of worry over keeping Baby Boy safe; and the wholy unatural separation from my family. I am not meant to be away from any of them and some days, the missing is so strong that it makes for a really tough go.
Also, hospital food sucks after a while. A short while.
In the next day or two I may actually be released to go home for bedrest until delivery, or until something else happens to bring us back. This is nothing short of a miracle. There are many other stories involved in all of this, but in order to get this post up, I'll suffice with this entry.
Please keep us in your prayers for more uneventfulness and eventually, a baby who's ready to come home without (too much) intervention.
