Preterm Labor

My body mistakenly took all that "practice" for being the real thing! I'm now typing from bed. A place I plan on becoming far too familiar with the next few months. We'll get more into how that came about later. Let me begin where I left off...

I took advantage of the the time I took off from work. Being on restrictions to 8 hour days meant when I came home, I was on my butt until shower/bed time. My legs were typically swollen and felt tight by that point anyway. So, not much complaining from me, but it made getting housework done seem impossible. I had to squeeze everything in on my days off it seemed. Since I had 10 days off, I could finally stretch out the squeezing. I felt less like I was trying to make fresh squeezed lemonade for a convention center and more like I could sip lemonade that was made just for me.

And I did. I sipped carefully, however. I was still contracting, but I felt more confident in my body and that my "belly tightening" was just Braxton Hicks (practice), and not the real thing.

I cleaned. Oh I cleaned. I had this overwhelming feeling like things needed to be clean. I mean CLEAN. Like you would feel comfortable eating off of the floor while lying there naked. Not that most people would feel comfortable doing that in any situation, but I felt the urge to try and make it that kind of environment per se. 

I scrubbed probably 1,000 sq ft of baseboards with paper towels for 3 days until I dwindled my fingernails down to brittle nubs. I vacuumed every possible square inch that was within my sight/reach. Every little speck of dust was foreign enemy #1 and had to be captivated within the vortex confines of the super storm created by my Kenmore vacuum cleaner. While my fancy smancy Dyson vacuum is much lighter and more versatile for preggers over here, it sucks! Actually, it doesn't suck. It doesn't seem to suck at all, and that is exactly why it is retired to an upstairs closet. Rant for another day. Back to nesting. I scrubbed every spot on the cabinets, under them, between them, in them. It brought me great satisfaction to work and see my progression. It also brought great amounts of contractions. It was ok, though. It was all just practice.

So I thought.

I wasn't even finished. I had a lot more baseboards to clean, rooms to straighten and organize. I wanted to finally finish our house. Yes, we have lived here for over 3 years, and it isn't "finished." I still have rooms that need to be furnished, painted, and decorated. I was grabbing paint swatches from home improvement stores like crazy, taking measurements, making plans, and even getting a major living room renovation quote from a local contractor!

Out of our entire house, our master bedroom is the only thing completed. That means it is completely furnished, painted, and decorated the way we want and are happy with. The downstairs guest bathroom is a close second, requiring only new towels. The office only has a small ways to go, just needing some window treatments, tidying up, and wall hangings (always a pain). And we are very close to completing the nursery (cue lots of excitement in that phrase!). 

That was another project we embellished on while I was off. Starting the nursery. We ran with an adult African Safari theme. And when I say "adult," I don't mean naked African women are plastering the walls. I just mean not a cartoony version of safari animals. My dad painted the walls a beautiful color somewhere between orange and copper. It's name (tea room) isn't revealing, but it's hue is quite fitting. And I'm pretty sure Kirkland's was running low on inventory by the time we left their store. It's not finished, but a great start to our imaginations! The most unfortunate part is that I won't be able to participate in finishing it. And the entirety of the rest of this blog is why.   

It seems like my blogs are always weekly doctor updates. I get tired of that sometimes. I get tired of re-reading about doctors and appointments with them. But let's face it, that's my life right now and this blog is my journal. Anyway, on to the ultrasound. 

My step dad was present for the ultrasound. The coolest part about that was that he had never seen an ultrasound performed! So, he got to see the baby moving and kicking. Little man even waved for us. The tech tried some 3D imagery, but it just didn't turn out well. The little guy had his face buried in the placenta, but it was exciting nonetheless to be apart of something that was a first for my step dad!

Then, all the crappy questions came, "Have you been having any tummy tightening or feeling a little crampy lately? Any bleeding?" Ah Hell. I knew what those questions meant as I had a little fear that my contractions could have been making changes in my cervix. And apparently, they had. It was confirmed. My cervix was getting shorter. The stupid thing was < 1 percentile for my gestation. I didn't even know that was a category?

The cervix is the last barrier between baby and the world. It's like a sponge. It's strong but weak in the same sense. It responds to pressure, and contractions force quite a bit of pressure on it (think of squeezing that sponge). The cervix shortens (effaces) and eventually begins to open (dilate).

Mine is shortening prematurely. I wasn't told I was dilating, thus I assume I am not at this time. It is about 50% effaced, though. It's acting like that sponge. With contractions, it shortens to 75% and begins to open internally (dilation in labor is opening externally). Opening internally is what typically causes the water to break. Yikes! When relaxed, it goes back to 50% and closes. They call this a dynamic cervix. This happened right before my eyes on the ultrasound screen. It's a scary sight. It is essentially preterm labor.

I was placed on a toco monitor in the OB's office to monitor my contractions. There were tons! I couldn't even feel half of them. They lasted about 20 seconds, but were fairly close together. My OB labeled this with an interesting name. An "irritable uterus." Really? And what exactly does that thing have to be irritable about?

One theory is a previous D&C (dilation & curettage). When I delivered my daughter, the placenta was retained. Meaning it wouldn't deliver properly. Delivery of the placenta is crucial to stop hemorrhage. Thus, I hemorrhaged to a point of almost going into hypovolemic shock (my BP was 70/30). My doctor had no choice but to do a curettage (use of a sharp tool to scrape the uterine lining) on the placenta. The procedure has its risks. The risks were not greater than me bleeding to death, though! After I recovered and was fully healed, I had a diagnostic procedure done to determine if I had any damage or scar tissue from the curettage. Everything looked great. So, I'm ruling that theory out on my own. 

Another theory could have something to do with little Brussel Sprout's passing back in the 1st trimester. The twin could be releasing chemicals telling the uterus to abort it. Why now and not sooner? I don't know.

So, here I am on bed rest.

Theoretically, gravity places more pressure on the cervix causing it to thin and open faster. Thus, lying flat takes gravity out of the equation. It isn't a proven method, but accepted widely enough to be an intervention. My contractions do lessen when I lie down. They also come on hard as soon as I stand. It's one of those things I can "why me?" myself about all day. I could soak in self demise and boo hoo about my "luck." Yes, I wish I could finish my nesting, grocery shop, even work. But what it boils down to is that this is what I have to do to give my little guy as much of a fighting chance at life as possible. So, that's what I'm doing. Simple as that. As well as taking a blood pressure medication twice a day (to control contractibility of the uterus) and progesterone nightly. I'm going to lose muscle mass and tone, probably just a small amount of bone density loss, increase my risk of blood clots, and severely hinder my activity tolerance by the time he is born. I finally see what it is to be a mom and sacrifice anything in this world for your little one. Josh and I are ewwing and awwing and just laughing at every little movement we feel together. We are cherishing the moments and basking in them with hopes that they won't be ending any time soon. I can't count the tears that I've shed at the thought of him lying lifeless in a NICU incubator on a ventilator right now. As active as he is, it's crushing to even imagine.

I leave you with something I found comforting....

This was my favorite painting we picked out to hang in the nursery. After looking closely at this picture I took, I realized the cub is in our crib (seen in the reflection of the glass) and sleeping while mom watches over him. It gave me chills.