Week 27

Week 27! YAY!   (Scroll down for the most current update)

This week was mostly uneventful except for some pain and contractions that are more mentally frazzling than anything else. One morning, I woke up, got out of bed and accidentally pulled the tube out of my heating pad. Warm water started pouring out everywhere and for a second I thought my water must have broke. (I've never actually experienced my water breaking, they always end up doing it for me). I almost started hyperventilating until I realized that it wasn't coming from me. It was mostly funny.

I made a friend on the floor who is here forever like me. She doesn't have the same physical restrictions I do so she can walk around the hospital as she pleases. The nurses told me there was a Mom who wanted to get a group together to play games just down the hall. I got permission to go. It was my first time leaving the room in a week and a half. I'm so embarrassed to admit it, but walking down that hallway took a lot out of me. For a second I thought I might pass out. I was the only one to show up. But it was nice to make a friend that I have something in common with and she's really cool. Since she knew she would have to come stay at the hospital because of her condition, she was completely prepared with cute lounging clothes, a fresh haircut, arrangements for her other child all in order, etc. Ah, the things I wish I would have gotten done before my emergency trip to the hospital!

I started reading this book, Your Preemie Baby,that my good friend, Jen, sent me. She had twin babies at 25 weeks and has offered me some great advice and support. I have to admit that when I'm reading it, I feel very detached like I'm reading about someone else's problem entirely. It just doesn't seem like something that could happen to us, especially when all I know about having babies is nice big healthy little guys that you can cuddle and love almost as soon as they're born. I'm definitely have a hard time reading and feeling like it applies to me. But then I look around and see where I am and realize that I am only here in the hospital because having a preemie baby is such a real possibility for me. So I keep reading and hope it will all sink in. Sometimes anticipating a problem is more scary than living through it....I'm hoping that is the case in this situation.

I have to give a shout out to my rock, Mr. Andrew Stacey. He is so amazing and handles all this like a champ. He definitely didn't have room or time in his busy routine for extra responsibilities and stress, but continues to work like a machine and be my number one strength. Many would crumble under the weight on his shoulders (those big strong shoulders :)). Although I do have to tease him for a moment. The other day he was very upset because he got a tiny scratch on his cell phone. It was the most upset I had seen him since all this happened. After hours of him continuing to lament over how annoyed he was about the cell phone I finally said "Andrew! Look where we are! I'm probably going to be here for months. Who cares about the cell phone!". We laughed. It was displacement at its finest. I suppose he can complain about the scratched cell phone all he wants.

There's a lot a displacement going on around here. The other morning I woke up early and remembered that I never got around to buying my boys some new Sunday clothes and a few other things that they needed. I thought of them wearing clothes that are too small for them or have holes and how ridiculous they would look. Mother-less boys in clothes that don't fit. It was more than I could handle. I spent the next hour on the Old Navy website bawling my eyes out. Once again, I highly doubt that clothes were the issue, but I did feel much better after sending my sister with a shopping list to solve the problem.

There's a fair amount of intellectualization going on around here along with denial and all the other happy defense mechanisms. So glad that psychology degree is finally paying off. However, I digress. The point is that I love Andrew to death. There is no one I'd rather be with during this frustrating situation. He is the person I know I could go through anything with and be okay in the end. He makes me laugh and calms me down when I'm ready to burst. And he always makes sure I have lots of sweets to eat (even though he is the sweet tooth :)). I'm one lucky lady.

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UPDATE:

I had this post mostly written on Monday. I guess I was a little anxious to celebrate another week down. Starting off with the line, "This week has been mostly uneventful" was a sure way to jinx myself.  Monday night ended up being terribly eventful. After going to bed around 11pm I couldn't sleep because of some mild contractions. I just waited to see what would happen and after about 30 minutes or so they became wildly painful contractions. The nurse put two monitors on me: one to measure the baby's heart rate and the other to measure my contractions. It just got worse and worse. I was having flashbacks to my labor with Luke and the pain was pretty much unbearable. They checked me and said I was 1 cm dilated...nothing to be too concerned about. Then they offered me morphine for the pain and IV fluids to try and inhibit the contractions.

This all meant I would need another IV line placed. Blast my thin little Irish veins, they have not been very cooperative. When I first arrived two weeks ago it took the staff seven tries to get my IV in. SEVEN! This isn't like a blood draw (which I can now pretty much sleep through). These needles are large torture objects :). My veins kept popping and just about every nurse or IV team member who tried had their ego severely bruised (except for that one lucky person who was finally victorious). I've since had two placed lines that have failed after several days so I was lucky enough to be IV free for the weekend. But that freedom came to an end last night. Luckily it only took them three tries this time. However, because I was also having contractions simultaneously and was worried sick about this being the end of my pregnancy, I totally cried as they dug for a vein. Bawled, actually. I'm so mad about that. I hate crying because of pain.

The contractions were about 3-4 minutes apart for most of the night but the morphine took the edge off and helped me sleep. Morphine, you guys, is awful stuff. I just don't know why people would abuse a drug that makes you feel so terrible. I was grateful for the pain relief but the feeling of it taking over my body and then the after affects as it has worn off are completely awful. They had to give me Zofran this morning to help with the nausea and I have slept most the day. I feel like there is a heavy blanket over my whole body that I can't take off. I really don't enjoy that drugged up feeling but I didn't have a choice.

The doctors don't have much to say about this incident. Obviously, we already knew that the blood clot would be irritating to my uterus and might cause it to contract. They have no idea what this means for the future...except that I'm not going anywhere. We just have to "wait and see" which is a phrase they might as well just paint on my wall in big bold letters. However, this experience was an important wake-up call to me. It helped me realize that although I might be hopeful for a few remaining months of pregnancy, that will just not be the case.  The doctors may not be willing to admit that, but I think my body is telling me that. I have to get on board with a scenario that is far less than ideal. I'm praying to get past week 28. We would greatly appreciate your prayers that our goal might be accomplished.