For many days now I have been wanting to blog but either too busy or too tired to write anything! First I didn't want to write to complain about the 60 days we've spent traveling or living in an on post hotel (because it can get old after awhile). Then I was way too busy partying like a pregnant woman (ie eating and providing old friends with copious amounts of alcohol) in California! Hitting the ground running when I landed back in Alaska, I've been busy closing on our new house. More on all of these fun fantastic events later as they definitely deserve their own posts.
Last night I surpassed my dereliction of duty as blogger and added an MIA cervix to boot. Yes, just when I thought everything was okay and I was ready to start preparing for this baby....my incompetent cervix hit.
On Friday, my husband and I shared a little loving which has been far and few between with our mutual fear of somehow hurting baby E. Later that night I noticed the mucus I had been discharging for about a week was tinged with blood which made me a little nervous. When I called L & D to check with the nurse, she indicated that it was probably something coming loose from earlier in the day. So I continued on with life, checking but not worried about this. However, on Monday, it got worse which prompted phone call #2. The nurse didn't think that it was too much of a problem, but said to go ahead and come in anyway just to check.
When I arrived, they hooked me up to hear the baby's heartbeat and for contractions which they said I was not having. After finishing the vaginal exam, the doctor asked me, "How much do you know about pregnancy complications?" Dum dum dum. You really don't want your doc asking you that! I braced myself said, "enough to know a lot of crappy things can happen." To make a long story short, I was four inches dilated with the amniotic sac and feet hanging through my cervix. Antibiotics to ward off infection and steroids for baby E's lungs were administered. They transferred me by ambulance to the larger hospital in Anchorage with the NICU (which I came to find out is ranked #2 in the country). There, I had definite contractions which slowed down a little with some lovely drugs. My new doc shot very straight telling us we had three options: 1) Have surgery to put in a cervical stitch after they pushed the amniotic sac and feet back in and then remain on bed rest in the hospital until delivery; 2) do nothing and bed rest in hospital until delivery, or 3) deliver him right then. We went with option one even though it's not typical to do this stitch after about 22 weeks. We didn't really have anything to lose with option one and our doc has had success with this even past the 22 week mark.
I may be kind of morbid in this sense, but I have the knowledge that with any surgery there are risks. So I told my husband that if I died, to know that I loved him and to make sure baby E knew I loved him dearly. After many phone calls to my family, I finally managed to wake my dad up and let him know what was going on. They whisked me off to surgery immediately after this. Thankfully everything went smoothly and they had me tucked away in the prenatal ward in the early morning. Where now I sit typing this and will remain for either the duration of my pregnancy or possibly until 32 weeks if I have someone to take care of me at home.
Speaking of home, my terrific husband is going to get to receive our household goods and unpack all by his lonesome AGAIN! Last time we arrived somewhere new, I was in my 2WW for IVF #2. He had the whole house unpacked in four days! Now he gets to do this again which will actually be a great distraction for him instead of sitting here with me.
The whole ordeal is in perspective for me. While I don't love or even like that this happened, I am grateful that everything is okay for now. I'm ecstatic that we're at 27 weeks and have a chance at a viable healthy baby. I know that I love my husband, my family, my friends, and my baby B. It could be better, but it could be a lot worse. So for that I'm grateful.