Twas the Night Before Christmas

and I was having lots of contractions. We called Dr. K, who IS ON VACATION UNTIL JANUARY 4th, and he told me to take my Procardia early (every 6 hrs rather than 8 hrs) and if it stopped the contractions within a half hour we didn't need to go to the hospital. This worked well, and allowed us to spend a lazy holiday with my family. We missed out on festivities in DC and Tennessee - but had a memorable holiday none the less, focusing on our most important gift right now.

Unfortunately, last night our luck ran out and around 4pm I started having contractions. They picked up, so I took my medication early around 745pm. Still not stopping. So after we scarfed down the turkey chili that Jeremy made, he cleaned up dinner, packed a bag and loaded us in the car. The roads were a little slick, and I've never seen him drive with such unabashed determination and caution.

When we arrived at the hospital we were sent directly to the perinatal triage area where they hooked me and baby up to monitors. Our little boy was thumping along in there, totally unphased by his mamma's uterine squeezes! My contractions were bothersome and in no way painful but definitely consistent. As each peak quickly approached on the monitor, we became more and more scared and tearful. Since Dr. K was out of town, the perinatologist on call for him determined that I needed a turbutaline injection to try to stop the contractions and a cervical length check. The doctor was trying to avoid coming in and when we heard the nurse say, "Okay so a resident will do the cervical check." Jeremy pipped up with "There are certain residents at this hospital who are not laying a finger on my wife." He asked for the Chief resident to care for us, otherwise we would wait for the doctor to come in herself.

The turbutaline made my heart race and my skin flush. I was trying to catch my breath and sob at the same time and could tell just how hard it was for Jeremy to stay strong for me when his mind was filled with fear and uncertainty as well. The Chief came in, remembered Jeremy and was happy to help us. She explained how we would proceed with an internal ultrasound to determine if the contractions were causing cervical changes and if I was in true labor. If so, they would do everything they could to stop it, giving us time for steroid injections to boost his lung development.

The ultrasound showed that I still have a good cervical length, and no funneling. His little head was down but there was little no shortening of the canal. The machine was brand new, so it was easy for us to see everything she measured. She felt confident that the contractions were not true labor and we could go home, especially since the turbutaline seemed to halt whatever contractions I was having.

Before she left, she honored a special request to see our little boy (scrotum and all) on the external ultrasound. We haven't seen him for over ten weeks, and that little peak helped give us the boost of hope that we needed. His tiny feet were crossed and tucked up under my right ribs (thanks for the bruising little one!) and his hands were in front of his face. He measured right on target for almost 30 weeks and that little monkey weighs 3 pounds 5 ounces already! They sent me home, back to bed rest and procardia with an appointment to see Dr. K next Monday. As long as I don't have bleeding or painful contractions - and stay on bed rest - we're hanging tight.

We drove home at 12:30am and I think we took what felt like the first deep breaths we've had in weeks. Our pregnancy with this wee one has made the two of us question the finite realm of science, while beginning to trust the infinite possibilities of faith.

And before I drifted off to sleep last night, all I could think about was that your prayers are working just as hard as my little body. And I'm thankful, truly, truly thankful for both.