Very first of all, you should know that the whole reason for this blog has more to do with the comments section than anything I could possibly have to say. We’ve been brought to tears again and again throughout yesterday and this morning by your wisdom, thoughtfulness, faithfulness and amazing autobios in the comments of previous entries (not to mention notes on Facebook and Twitter). Carey was having a particularly difficult morning and it was your beautiful sentiments, read aloud to her by me, that carried her through. Content yourself in knowing I used all my oral interp skills to represent you and I apologize for any mispronunciations.
I’ve said it before and I have to say it again: thank you. We covet every message and I mean it. If we could reply to you individually right now, we surely would.
By way of updates, though:
Last night began on a positive note. Carey was moved to a much nicer room, complete with windows and other amenities, which lightened the mood considerably. The “Rain Man Suite”. Dr. Chao stopped by with an ultrasound device and showed us Baby A. To our delight, we saw that not only had he partially replenished some of his fluids, but he actually had enough room to move around a bit. Carey was still losing water, but apparently not as fast as it was being replaced. “He’s bouncing,” Chao told us. “You can’t bounce without fluid.”
This was good news.
And the hits kept on coming. We enjoyed a little dinner and a nurse brought in a cot for me, so that I wouldn’t need to ride a chair for the third night in a row. Carey popped a sleeping pill and we began to drift off to dreamland. We weren’t out of the woods, but, for the first time in days, things were looking a little better.
Matters took a turn, though, around 2:45 AM.
An uncomfortable itching and some cramps were keeping Carey awake and we called in a nurse. She hooked up a monitor and confirmed it: some minor contractions. Temperature was fine, fluid leakage was next to none… everything was looking good except for that little wavy line on the contraction printout.
Over the course of the next several hours, what began as a mild irritation turned int0 what appeared to be full-blown labor pains. We ordered up the contraction medication and no effect. Hours later, Carey wound up calling Dr. Chao on her personal cell to petition for a different contraction medication and Chao relented. This one helped, but by no means fixed it.
Everyone was getting concerned that Carey might be going into labor. The pain had intensified to a startling degree and even though it was the last thing anyone wanted, we were forced to order up Morphine. It helped for a half hour or so, but wore off quickly. We were doing our best to avoid being shipped off to Labor and Delivery. Delivering these babies at 22 weeks (as of yesterday), as the doctors keep reminding us, more or less means Game Over.
A NICU doctor paid us a visit for a quick consult, wearing a “I lost the rock-paper-scissors tourney in the hall, so it looks like I have to break the bad news” expression the whole time. He gave us a lot of odds and statistics and some genuinely helpful insights on our post-partum infants. Most of it we’d heard before, but I suppose the medical community isn’t really doing their job if somebody doesn’t come in at some point each day and remind us our kids are a cough away from the Grim Reaper. And likely brain damaged or disordered if they do happen to hang in there.
It wasn’t an all-bad-news day, though. Fluid and blood leakage: next to none. Blood work: good. Temp: normal.
Dr. Chao eventually came in with a much-needed post game on the day. The contractions are real, but it’s Baby A that’s amplifying them. Specifically, his lack of a filled sac is causing him and the other two to apply pressure to the pelvic nerve and uterine ligaments, which is excruciating. Also, the issue was keeping Carey from emptying her bladder. A catheter meant more infection risk, but what had to be done had to be done. After the catheter, she’s feeling significantly better. And no, she doesn’t seem to be in labor.
So, we’re at 22 +1. I wish I could say our odds are better than yesterday, but they’re not. In fact, the only difference between our situation today and our situation yesterday is we’re a day closer to 24 weeks, without infection. So far, anyway.
Which is something.