Amelia Update

I just realized I typed that entire previous post and forgot to update on how Amelia is doing. She is still in her incubator because she is not maintaining her body temperature without help. She gained weight yesterday for the first time after maintaining for the previous two days. She is now 4lbs., 3.7oz. She is feeding really well (breastfeeding when I'm there, and bottle feeding when I'm not). She has had very few apnea/bradycardia episodes, and she is a feisty girl. On Sunday, she pulled her NG (feeding) tube out of her nose twice. They put it back in for the times when she doesn't get a full feeding in orally, and they put mitts on her hands to keep her from pulling it out again. I'm convinced that she will find a way to get rid of it again though.

We are very lucky that we have such a strong, healthy little girl in our lives. I told Tim that it's a little bit weird to watch your husband fall head over heels in love with another girl. Lucky for her I'm in love with her as well so I can't even be jealous.

Just Breathe.

It's been a week since Amelia was born and I'm just starting to feel like I can breathe again. I will give the update of the whole labor process later on. For now, I need to get this out.

Having a baby in the NICU sucks. I'm going to throw myself a pity party right now and tell you that when I see other people taking their babies home from here (which happens a lot, by the way, because this place is very busy), I want to punch the parents. I want someone to feel like I do when I leave here every night and Amelia is not with me.

Hollow.
Empty.
Blank.
Cold.
Angry.
Anxious.

It's getting better every day. Thursday was incredibly difficult. They told me on Wednesday that they could discharge me that afternoon if I wanted to go. In theory that sounded good, aside from the fact that I couldn't breathe and started having chest pains every time I thought about it. I literally felt like my chest was going to cave in every time I waddled away from the NICU after a feeding, and I was only going down the hall to my room.

They did discharge me on Thursday after several breakdowns over the fact that I was going to have to go home without her. Luckily my Mom was here and let me get it all out while I cried over and over again. The uncontrollable waterworks are annoying, but I know they're normal.

We left the hospital around 12:30pm and headed home. It was good to see Tonks, and she was very excited that everyone was home again (well, everyone she has met at least). We turned around and came right back to the hospital at 2pm for Amelia's feeding. We went home again afterward, and turned around and came back for her 5pm feeding. My mom cooked us dinner at home, and we came back to the hospital for her 8pm feeding. Before we left for her 5pm, I was already feeling anxious and having trouble breathing. This feeling intensified as we sat with her during her 8pm feeding. It was so hard to think about leaving her and not being there during the night when she was up. While I was still in the hospital, I was able to nap between feedings (which happen at 2, 5, 8 and 11 around the clock) and just waddle down the hall to see her whenever I wanted to. I didn't have to miss any feedings, and she didn't have to miss me. In between, I pumped (which I have to do at least 8 times per day) and napped. The schedule worked for me. Leaving her did NOT work for me. I cried pretty hard in the car that night on the way home. Tim tried to make me feel better by stopping at Culver's for ice cream, but even that didn't appeal to me. Don't worry, I managed to choke my Butterfinger Concrete Mixer down anyway.

So it's getting easier every day that she's here. I'm on a new schedule as of yesterday. I am at the hospital for her 5am, 8am, 2pm, 5pm and 8pm feedings, and I skip the other 3 to sleep. I'm still pumping 8 times a day and I can't wait for her to be stronger so she can eat more and help relieve the pressure in my boobs. Luckily the NICU nurses are amazing and I know she's getting the best care she can while she's here. As for me, I just have to keep reminding myself to breathe.

In.
Out.
In.
Out.

Induction?

Well, it's getting down to crunch time apparently. I just heard that they might induce me later this morning... first, a look at how we got to this point though:

A few nights ago, Dr. Poho (the neonatologist) suggested that I have some amniotic fluid collected so they could test it for fetal lung maturity. That was a fun process. Remember how I told you my water broke and it felt like I was peeing my pants dozens of times a day? Well, that intensifies at night when I'm trying to get comfortable and sleep, because of the changing of positions, so that's when we decided to try to collect the fluid. Luckily it was Mom's turn for the night shift, because I don't know if Tim would have been able to handle the process.

They told me they needed about 3 cc of fluid to run the test. That's about a teaspoon for all of you U.S. Customary System of Measurement users out there. Sounds easy, right?

Wrong.

First the nurse brought me a funnel pan (basically a pink bed pan that is slanted) to shove under my backside. I'm not sure why they insist on making bed pans out of hard, sharp-edged plastic, as it is quite uncomfortable. I tried sitting on it, but of course nothing came out when I did that, and I felt like my ass was being cut in half by the plastic. We needed a better way. Therefore, mom and I were on edge for a good hour while I tried laying in different positions (on my back, on my side, etc.) waiting for the big spill to occur.

Well, lo and behold, I eventually started to drip. Mom quickly shoved the pan under my bare butt (being a mom is so much fun), and we waited.

And waited.

I couldn't tell what was happening, and she couldn't see into the pan, because there were shadows, so I had the brilliant idea of handing her my phone (with flashlight app) to take a peek. I'm going to blame the late hour of the night for the fact that she got my phone, stood back, and proceeded to try to take a picture of my bare ass. Appalled, I informed her that I did not, in fact, need a photographic record of my leaking orifices, and she was able to confirm that some liquid was going into the pan using the flashlight and NOT the camera.

Anyway, we sent the fluid off to the lab (I was able to laugh 2.5 cc out during the exchange) and had to wait for the test results. Dr. Poho visited me this morning to tell me that 2 out of the 3 tests they ran were positive for fetal lung maturity, meaning that Amelia should have only a 1% chance of respiratory distress when she comes out. YAY!

What does this mean for me?

It means when Dr. Durfee (my amazing obstetrician) comes in today, she'll decide when they are going to induce me. It could be later this morning.

Now the real freaking out begins. First of all, it figures after being monitored like a hawk 24/7 for four days that I would be alone when they brought me this news. Second of all, with all of the blood rushing to my head after hearing this I feel like I've forgotten how to breathe. Can I actually do this? Can I really give birth?! This is really fucking scary!

Tim just told me that hearing her cry and breathe on her own would be music to his ears, and I agree. I'm so grateful that I've had such great care, and that she appears to be maturing fast enough that she'll be ok, but I'm still stuck on the fact that this wet, squirmy ball of flesh is going to come out. Of ME. Possibly today. (Insert terrified screaming here)

I'll keep you posted, but it could be a while. We'll see...

New Socks!

I forgot to mention that the nurses (Smiling Stephanie today) gave me a sexy new accessory today: anti-embolism socks! Thank goodness I had a pedicure recently... :)

Apparently 1 a.m. is a good time of night for me to be up and ready to type. Had another mini-meltdown tonight when my Mom was getting ready to leave. She told me to just say the word if I wanted her to stay, but I knew she needed to get home to Paul. I did, however, have a very dignified cry over her departure after I was alone. In true hospital form, however, I was discovered by a nurse. On the plus side, she felt bad for me and my tear-stained appearance, and Tim was able to take me on a wheelchair tour of the hospital parking lot tonight.

Here's what freedom looked like tonight:

Birth Control

I have a great idea for a new form of birth control:

BIRTH

Before you have kids, hell, before you consider having SEX at all, you should be exposed to a certain level of... disclosure. Forget those high school lectures of the potential STDs that are out there. Make every high school kid watch a live birth (Tim says he had to do that in high school, but I don't remember it). Then let the girls go to the hospital and play "labor patient" for a few days. Once there, make sure she is thoroughly educated in the following ways:

1. Mesh Undies. Although I'm all for a little sexy in the the underoo area, these gems go a little too far, even for me. You want to keep a girl's pants on? Trade her skinny butt for a baggie (because the sexiest underwear come in sterile plastic baggies) of these. Let her feel the breeze, literally, as she sits around for a couple of days with one-size-fits-all disposable underwear. If she can get over the fact that she will be wearing these underwear instead of her own polka dot thong from Victoria's Secret before, during and after labor, let her pass to the next level. Don't forget to mention to her that at least 4 strangers per day will see her in said hot pants.

2. Mega Pads. Along with the mesh undies, provide the student with a set of mega pads. For added effect, pour capfuls of yellowish, moucousy liquid on them for her and let her sit around in bed with one of these between her legs for 24 hours a day. If anyone thought babies were cranky because they're hungry, or need to burp, they're wrong. They're cranky because diapers are uncomfortable. Adult diapers are even more uncomfortable, and that's essentially what these pads are. If all of the actual mega pads are being taken by the women who are already in labor, let the student roll up a damp hand towel and shove it inside of her mesh undies. It's about the same effect.

Assuming the poor high school girl is still considering sex (after all, the movies make it look soooo glamorous), move her on to step 3.

3. BMs. If our sex ed student thought a little cheeky exposure and mega pads were easy, this one should take the cake. Everyone knew the kid in school (or was the kid in school) who farted in class. We laughed at this kid (Eli in the 7th grade for me) and were relieved when we were able to sneak one by the class by blaming someone else. Don't deny it, you've been a crop duster and you know it. Anyway, for step three, our sex ed student needs to start talking about digestion. Have every person who comes in ask her about her bowel activity. Nurses can listen to her digestive tract as they check her vitals 2,384 times a day. New nurses who come on shift can already be aware of how many times she's pooped, but make sure they ask her about it anyway. Her family and friends who visit her can hear/see her take her stool softener so she doesn't get plugged up. This one should break even the most determined of sexual explorers. If not? It's step 4.

4. Bed Rest. Now don't get me wrong. Being in bed and having people wait on you hand and foot for a few days is kind of fun. It's nice to have time off of work or school, and our student might be grateful for a little time to relax and catch up on sleep, reading, trashy television, etc. However, after 4 days of the same beige walls with no exposure to outside light or air, even the most relaxed student will get antsy. You see, it's just not as fun to hear about all of the fun things other people are doing as it is to be participating yourself. Even work starts to sound really exciting, if only to escape the monotony of getting up, peeing, laying down, eating, laying down, laying down, laying down... I've never been more tempted to throw a temper tantrum in order to get my way. If you want to bring the torture to a new level, don't let the sex ed student bring her cell phone, and limit her TV channels to the news and telemundo.

See? Don't you think this method of birth control is going to be more effective than telling kids they might get a stinging rash? Teenagers aren't scared of stinging rashes, they have acne. They aren't scared of a few bumps on their genitals, they've got SATs and ACTs and college applications to worry about. You want to scare a teenager into not having sex, you have to go hard core. That's why, if the student makes it through step 4 and hasn't reattached her chastity belt herself, she needs to move to step 5.

5. BIRTH. Now I haven't actually done this yet, and I know we can't fake it with the high school student, but hopefully we can get her close. There's going to be someone who is red-faced and ready to pop in the hospital, because babies are being born all the time. Take the student in around a full moon and the odds increase significantly that she'll hear the primal screams of someone birthing naturally, or witness a father figure pass out from the overwhelming fear of it all. Let her hold a leg and watch the baby's head crown. Have her witness the tearing of a woman's most private areas, and remind her that when the love of her life wants her to lose it in the back of his beat up old Civic, this is what could potentially happen a few months later. She won't even need to hear about the stretch marks, leaky nipples, heart burn, nausea, gas, constipation, achy back, swollen ankles, etc. She'll be chaining that chastity belt back around her own waist and pushing her pimple-faced boyfriend away.

And if after all of this, our high school girl still wants to bump uglies with her boyfriend, then at least you can tell her SHE WAS WARNED.

Freedom!

Ok, so the title of this post might have sounded better than the situation really is, but it's the little things in life. I'm getting my freedom back a little bit at a time. Last night, they took me off of the 24/7 fetal monitoring, so those two cords didn't have to be unplugged whenever I got up. They also took me off of the IV pole, and let me just keep the port in my hand because I started taking my antibiotics by mouth. When I had my mini-meltdown last night, I ripped the evil, itchy, hot compression balloons off of my legs, so those were gone...

And now?! My new favorite person, Nurse Kathy, just came in and removed the IV altogether! Woot woot! It's like I'm free! I can get up and pee without having to have someone unplug the fetal and contraction monitors, unplug the compression sock hoses, unplug the IV pole, help me wheel it in, and wait for me to be done so they can help me back into bed.

Sigh. It's a beautiful thing.

Now if I can get a handle on this ever-present stillness, I'll be golden. I'm so used to being up and about all the time that sitting here being pretty much idle is driving me a bit bonkers. There is just so much that I could be doing! My classroom could use some organizing, my lesson plans were not done, my laundry was on the floor at home, my dog needed her teeth brushed, the vinyls needed to be hung in Amelia's room, her closet needed cleaned out, my closet needed cleaned out, etc. I feel like I could be so much more useful if I were able to be at home at least!

I'm trying to keep on top of this feeling of uselessness, but it's hard. I know the most productive thing I can be doing right now is sitting here and keeping this little girl safely inside, but it's a hard adjustment. I'm so rarely still that this feels wrong. I feel like I need to be taking care of a million different things instead of focusing on the one really important thing that I should be focusing on.

Here's to another day of growth inside the comfort of her own amniotic fluid (which, by the way, she is producing at a rate of 30cc's per hour as she pees inside of me... shudder).

PS- If you ever have to have an extended hospital stay, get ready for a new kind of personal relationship with every stranger who comes a callin'. :)

Next entry? A little info on mesh panties, BMs, leaking boobs and other fun stuff... stay tuned!

Greetings from NMC

Well, our plans for baby Amelia's arrival have changed significantly. She was scheduled to arrive on Nov. 1, 2011, but she has decided that she wants to greet the world a little bit earlier. Here's the scoop:

I warn you now this post is graphic. Proceed with caution.

I was getting ready to leave work around 5pm on Wednesday, Sept. 7 (two days after my 27th birthday if you're keeping track). I remembered that I needed to start a new file for a project and didn't want to forget to do it, so I sat down at my computer to open one up. I wasn't going to finish it, as it had been a long day already. As I started to create the template, I felt a little trickle. I wasn't sure what it was, so I stood up and noticed some wetness on my leather chair. After cleaning it up, I assumed that my kegels were letting me down and I had wet my pants, which is common during pregnancy. I got my stuff together to go home, and headed downstairs to use the restroom before I left.

Because I didn't think anything of what had happened, I stopped at Fantasy Comics on the way home and got Tim the latest issues he is reading. When I got home, I put my feet up and laid on the couch until Tim got home, but when i got up I had the trickle feeling again. Ladies, you've had this feeling during a heavy period when you just can't stop a leak. Gentlemen, just assume you've never felt this. Anyway, I went to the bathroom again, and noticed some mucous when I wiped. No one said pregnancy was pretty, people. I called Tim in to see my discovery, and he immediately googled what a mucous plug looks like. After viewing several images of what appeared to be bloody boogers, we determined it might have been e mucous plug that was coming out, but we were not sure. If you're not eating while reading this, go ahead and google for yourself. The pictures are pretty interesting...

We decided that we needed to eat dinner, as it was getting late and neither of us is very pleasant when we are hungry (picture grumbling, growling bears). I had to pee again before we left, and this time there was a pinkish tinge on the toilet paper. I made Tim look at that, too, because I thought I was being paranoid. He agreed that it was pinkish, and we should probably go to triage. After a quick bite to eat, we headed over to Northwest's Women's Center and got checked in.

As we got registered, I told Tim to stop making me laugh, as I felt like I was continuing to pee my pants (which is what I still assumed was happening, as I'm only 32 weeks along). It didn't work very well, though, because frankly, peeing yourself as an adult is a humorous thing. Luckily hospital chairs are plastic-lined. :)

After we got checked in, I was given a sexy hospital gown and told to strip down. The nurse on duty hooked me up to a fetal heart rate monitor, and a contraction monitor while she prepared to give me an exam. After two speculum exams, she was able to confirm that the fluid I was leaking was not, in fact, urine. As much as it made me happy that I hadn't lost control of my bladder, it was really freaky to realize that meant my water had broken.

Tim was pretty shaken up, and his tapping foot and clammy hands gave him away when he said he was fine. A lot of things were rushing through my head: fear, anxiety, worry, excitement, etc. I didn't know what would happen, but it didn't occur to me that I might not be leaving the hospital for a while. When the nurse confirmed with the second slide that the swab was "ferning," I asked if I should call into work for Thursday. She just nodded her head. A few minutes later, she told me I was being admitted and would be in the hospital until Amelia was born. I told my Mom I needed her to come down (mostly because I thought I was going to have to deliver within 24 hours because my water had broken) and she was already on her way.

We had a sonogram while we waited to be moved upstairs and I had an IV put in. My wimpy veins were not cooperative and I ended up getting the IV on my left wrist (ouch). The tech who came in to do the sonogram was straight out of a Kill Bill movie. She had a short, tight mini skirt and hooker heels on, and she didn't mess around. She was nice enough to give us a little print out of a picture of Amelia's foot though. When she left, Tim and I just laughed at her outfit.

I'm getting fuzzy on the details of the rest of the night. The past few days have been a whirlwind of confusion, fear, anxiety, frustration, etc. A NICU nurse came in to see us the first night to tell us all of the things that will probably happen to Amelia when she is born. They estimate she weighs about 4 pounds 8 ounces right now, and her amniotic fluid levels were on the low end of normal. She's going to most likely be in the NICU for 4 weeks or more, but the longer she stays inside the better her chances are. I've had two shots of steroids in my butt to help her lungs develop, and we've made it past the 48 hour mark. 50% of women whose waters break go into labor within 48 hours, and 90% within the first week. If I don't go into labor on my own by the 21st of September (when Amelia will be 34 weeks and 1 day old), they will induce me then. The contractions I had when I was in triage that first night stopped after they had the IV connected for a while, and haven't picked up again. I'm still leaking plenty of fluid, and I'm sure Amelia is working hard to create more and keep a nice cushion inside for herself. I've resorted to bribing her with everything I can think of to stay inside a while longer, although my boredom level has increased significantly and the lack of sleep from the first two nights caught up with me tonight.

I threw myself a little pity party this evening when I was trying to get to sleep, and had a "woe is me" moment. I am terrified of giving birth right now, and I was really hoping I would have more time to get ready for her arrival, but it is out of my control at this point. Luckily my amazing team at work (Megan and Vanessa) were able to get my classroom ready for a sub and I know my other 16 kids will be taken care of. I've had some visitors already, and many more on alert to help out with whatever we need. Tim's parents came down on Friday afternoon and took Tonks home with them after their visit so we don't have to worry about her being home alone and freaked out. My dad was here Thursday afternoon until Friday morning, as my grandparents were able to come down from their fishing trip to watch Paul.

I'm realizing more and more how incredibly blessed Tim and I are to have such amazing family and friends surrounding us. I'm thinking Amelia just couldn't wait to meet all of the wonderful people in our lives and that's why she wanted to make her grand entrance a little ahead of schedule.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring, or how long I'll be laid up waiting on our daughter, but I am trying to stay positive and remember that my discomfort and boredom are not too much if it keeps my little girl safely inside a little bit longer.

I'll keep updating on here as the days go, and hopefully there will be 12 more days of blog posts before they induce me and she gets to greet the world. If she doesn't make it that far, I know the medical team here will do everything in their power to make sure she is healthy and we can take her home as soon as possible.

I've been up long enough trying to coherently piece this together, please forgive the randomness, typos and grammatical errors that I'm sure are present throughout.

If you're the praying type, give Amelia a mention for me please, and pray for the other 4 women who came in with early ruptured membranes on Wednesday as well. Apparently it was the trendy thing to do that night. :)