The Best Laid Plans

You know what they say about the best laid plans... and since I'm such a planner, you'd think I would be well aware of how much things can take you completely off guard when you least expect it.
Getting pregnant was the first of those well-laid plans that went astray. I knew I may have difficulty because of my endometriosis, but I had no idea that I also have polycystic ovarian syndrome. That was some devastating news and really threw a wrench (and lots of fertility meds and some surgery too) in our plans. But, we finally conceived in December of 2011.
Everything was picture-perfect for a while. I have a history of high blood pressure (thanks, genetics!) so they monitored me very closely, but everything went very well. I made it through the dreaded first trimester without puking and was able to eat everything in sight, so despite being quite nauseous, I actually felt quite well. And I HATE praying to the porcelain god, so I felt a little accomplished at making it through the first trimester. That seems like such a long time ago now... my how quickly things change.
So everything continued to go well: my blood pressure stayed alright and all of my testing came back with good results. Every ultrasound was perfect and our little baby, Emma, looked fantastic. It was more than I ever could have asked for- finally, after our long journey to conceive, we had good news.
June 12th was my 28 week OB appointment and the first of my serial growth ultrasounds to make sure that Emma was growing properly. She looked perfect again but then... everything changed. My cervix shortened to 1cm and suddenly the discussions turned to hospital admission and bed rest. It all happened so quickly and my head was spinning- my OB said I'd likely be in the hospital for a day or two to be monitored and then I'd have to go home for bed rest. I was devastated, but didn't even have time to be. We stopped at Chick-Fil-A (OMG pregnancy craving) on the way to the hospital and then were immediately checked in and admitted when we arrived to St. Joe's Women's. I still couldn't believe what was happening and I hate the unknown. I used to drive my parents crazy as a kid because I had to know everything.
They attempted to start an IV but had difficulty getting a line in, so I was poked twice to no avail. To top that off, those pokes were really painful and after the second attempt, I lost it and started crying. The nurse was comforting and understanding and told me to let it all out. She got another nurse and they started a line in my hand, and then everything started to happen and sink in. I got hooked up to a monitor and started some meds to calm down the preterm labor- I had been having cramps for the prior two days but didn't think much of it because it was irregular and not painful. They gave me the first of two steroid shots directly in my booty and I almost died. It hurt so bad! But the shots are supposed to help Emma's lungs develop quicker, so if she is born early, she has a better chance at surviving. So despite the horrific pain, it was worth it.
I've never been in the hospital overnight. I've had three outpatient surgeries, and outpatient procedure, and a few short trips to the ER, so this is so foreign to me. Everything went well the first day and night, although I started getting some contractions the second morning. I had to do the dreaded 24 hour urine collection for the third time since I've been pregnant. Let me tell you, there is NOTHING fun about saving all of your pee pee for a whole 24 hours... it's gross, annoying, and it makes me cranky. And since I'm in the hospital, they had me on fluids which made me have to pee every 30-60 minutes, even in the middle of the night. I just wanted to go home. I had an ultrasound and again, my cervix was short but Emma looked great.
The OB met with me the next day and said she wanted me to stay another day for monitoring and so we could get all of our test results back. She also wanted to do a fetal fibronectin test the following morning to test for an enzyme that's released when the amniotic sac starts detaching from the uterine wall. So I hunkered down for another night in the hospital. It's not easy to sleep when there are nurses coming in every few hours for vitals and meds, on top of having to pee all the time.
The next morning, all hell broke loose. I woke up with some pain and pressure really low, which led to contractions. I watched the monitor and they were coming quickly and getting more intense. The little ones I had before got up into the 30's and 40's and these were shooting up to the 70's-90's. The nurse rushed in and told me I had to take some meds right away. She gave me a shot in the arm that made my heart race and made my whole body start to shake. We had unplugged my IV since it was giving us fits after my morning shower and I said I didn't want more fluids until I spoke with the doctor. She tried hooking it up again, but there was a blockage in my hand and she had to start another line. My right hand didn't look good, so she opted to stick it in my left inner elbow on the condition that I'd be a good girl and not bend my arm. It was a deal- I surely wasn't interested in being poked and prodded again, especially now that I was scared, shaking, and I felt like my heart was coming out of my chest. So she got in the line, and administered another type of med that made me shake even worse and my whole body turned bright red. I had already become accustomed to the tourist sunburn look since the pills I had been taking since I got to the hospital made my whole body turn a lovely shade of hot pink, so this additional redness was just an enhancement to my new skin tone. My contractions calmed down and I slowly started to feel better, but now Emma wasn't moving. In fact, she hadn't moved all morning. Her heart beat was fine, but it wasn't fluctuating like it should and she was just not doing anything. They sent me for an ultrasound, and she still wasn't moving. The perinatologist came in and explained that, basically, things weren't dire but they weren't great. I would be staying in the hospital until I delivered, which could be days or weeks. No one would know for sure. AND, I had been diagnosed with pre-eclampisa since my 24 hour urine collection came back with bad results. I felt so deflated.
Once we got up to our room, I lost it again. And I cried, and cried, and cried. This was never what I had intended... I felt such a sense of loss and fear. Will Emma be ok? How long will she be in the NICU? How long will it be before I have to deliver her? Will I be ok? How will we handle all of these medical bills? I couldn't talk to anyone other than my mother, and at that, I spent a good length of that time just sobbing on the phone, completely unable to utter any real words.
I took the rest of the night to come to terms with what was going on. The OB offered me a glimmer of hope about going home, saying that the pre-eclampsia was in the beginning stages and could possibly be monitored and managed at home, but it was still up in the air. But then the perinatologist told me otherwise, saying that I'm probably not going home pregnant. I'm still not over the shock, and it still hasn't completely sunk in. I took a nice hot shower this afternoon and realized that things have changed more than I realized. Instead of having time to prepare for her birth, get everything ready, and to mentally get ready for labor and being a mommy for real, I realized that I picked up and left one morning for a routine doctor's appointment and won't be back home until after Emma is born, whenever that will be. So I left my life just how it was, and it will never, ever be the same again.
We're taking everything one day at a time, hoping that the pre-e doesn't get worse and that she doesn't decide to come any time soon. I'm only 28 weeks and five days pregnant. So she has about a 95% chance of survival if she were born now, but would require a lengthy NICU stay. And of course there's that chance that she won't make it, which is a thought I can't even bear to entertain for a second. Luckily, this hospital recently opened a brand-new NICU with all private suites, so we can stay in her room right along with her 24/7 after she's born.
There's a lot of unknown right now and I'm terrified of what could happen but I'm trying desperately, with every fiber of my being, to stay positive and take things one step at a time. We're hoping to keep her in the womb for a few more weeks if possible but there's no way to tell if that'll happen. That enzyme test came back positive, so there's an increased risk that I'll deliver within two weeks, but again- no one knows for sure. So we'll have to sit and wait. Which is something I don't do very well in these types of situations. In the meantime, I'm gathering as much information as I can to prepare for what lies ahead and reading stories of others' journeys for inspiration and hope. I'm trying to mentally prepare for being a NICU mom and for the ups and downs that are surely in my future. Life right now is just one step at a time.