Well here we are. I never did make it to my afternoon work meetings the other day. Nope. Instead, I (we) am full of IV drips, dosed with what I think can only be a borderline legal amount of magnesium and steroids, and attached to a bajillion monitors. Me and him, him and me. We are in this together. My last words as I left my office Thursday morning. Be back in a couple hours! Schovillova out. OK, not that last part, but I'm fairly confident that was part of my inner dialogue.
What the fuck. How did I get here? A measly 28 weeks and now 6 days pregnant and my cervix decides it's done with the whole cooking the baby thing. In the words of the world's best OBGYN, I have a shit cervix. What a shit head that cervix of mine is. At least it gave me until 34 weeks before my first sweet little person came upon the Schovillova scene. But this. I wasn't prepared for this. Who can prepare for this? I went into the world's best OBGYN's office for a check up and it went something like this:
WBO: So, how are you feeling?
Me: (Auto tears) I feel weird. Low back pain, lots of it. And my stomach keeps tightening.
WBO: Does your stomach tighten when your back pains happens?
Me: Yeah, but just in one area. It bulges out every once in a while. (Yes, in hind sight I am slapping the hell out of me)
WBO: (totally calm and cool because she is the calmest and coolest cat) Well let's just take a look... (takes a look) Uh huh. OK, here's what's going to happen now. (again, totally calm and cool this cat, she could have rattled off her Christmas list, I wound't have been surprised. But I was surprised.) We're going to go ahead and check you in.
Me: Check me into what?
WBO: Into the hospital. You are fully effaced and 2 cm dilated.
For those of you not in the know. The term 'fully effaced' means paper thin. Means ready to drop. Like there's absolutely nothing holding that bad boy in and up.
Me: Does this mean I won't be back for my meetings this afternoon?
WBO: You won't be back for a meeting for.. quite some time.
Side note: when I got to work Thursdsy morning with all the back pain the only thing that occurred to me was that perhaps I should stop wearing high heels. Yep.
So here I am. Monitors for me and the little human male in my womb who is trying to escape. The magnesium makes me feel buzzed and numb and so fucking hot (as in over heated as in Texas in July). I can't walk a straight line and I have to call a nurse every hour to help me hobble to the bathroom every freaking hour. In the meantime I stave off a panic attack/nervous breakdown when I'm left to consider the worst case scenarios of our actual situation. Of his actual situation. 28 and 6 now. Not good but not the worst. I actually called the neonatologist (perhaps the kindest human I've ever met but oh so serious and severe, rightly so) out for being 'a downer'.
I'm such an asshole sometimes but it was either that or it was collapsing to the ground and curling into fetal. He did an excellent job at painting the most realistic/horrific picture of 'Here's what we're looking at folks' for xx weeks. Current goal, keep me drugged and dosed to make it to 29 weeks on Sunday. Ideally 32 weeks would help us rule out a lot of complications. One day at a time. And for the love, do not Google this shit. For once in my life, I am not remotely tempted to Google this shit.
My sweet perfect little came to visit today. I hadn't seen her in 2 days and I bawled like a baby when my in-laws brought her in. I missed her terribly and mourned the fact that she was (all too soon) about to not be my baby. My sweet little. I at least remembered to hide the wires so she didn't lose her shit completely. I was already doing that enough for the both of us. Oh sweet A.
So here I am and here we are. Tick tock you guys. I need a few more weeks. He needs a few more weeks. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.