A Strong Person...

I used to be strong. Not physically, but emotionally. I always felt like I could handle anything that came my way. Stressful things never defeated me. I would just think and plan through any obstacles. I was proud of that. It made me feel capable and steady.

Now, I am not strong. I am weak, and each day proves to me over and over again how weak I really am.

Gone is my confidence.

Gone is my ability to overcome obstacles with ease.

Gone is my willingness to tackle what comes my way.

Now, I just want to run and hide. From everything. Everyone. I am tired and beat up and done with it all. I have no strength left.

It isn't pleasant to be in this place, but here I reside.

The time since my last post has been so draining and difficult.

On Monday of last week, my grandfather passed away. He had been ill, so this wasn't totally unexpected, but it hurts all the same. The worst part was that I knew from the second I heard the news that I would not be able to attend his funeral. I am on bed rest. I feel incredibly guilty about it. I realize that no one would ever expect me to jeopardize the safety of the babies to go to the funeral. In fact, I had several family members call me and stress that they didn't want me there. Still, not being able to attend the funeral, hug my grandmother and mother, and just be with the family on an occasion like this was almost too much. I let them down.

Then, on Wednesday, I woke up with the need to go to the restroom. The urge was incredible, and woke me up from a sound sleep. Before I could make it the ten or so steps to the bathroom from the bed, fluid started rushing out of me. I couldn't get it to stop. When I finally reached the toilet, I sat there, with fluid still streaming out, in a complete panic.

I tried to tell myself that it was incontinence. Just one more thing to add to the list of pregnancy issues I have wracked up or something. Shaking and filled with dread, I just sat there waiting for it to stop.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the water gush stopped. I got up to go clean myself up when the second gush started running down my legs. In tears, I made it to the phone to call my husband.

My stomach was lopsided. My right side was squishy and soft. I was so scared because everything was crashing down around me at that very moment. I must have done something to make this happen. I had let the babies down, too.

My husband came home and took me to labor and delivery. We didn't even know where it was. During the walk down the halls of the hospital, I had a third gush of fluid, which filled the pad I was wearing and again started to stream down my legs. It was horrible.

I was admitted to labor and delivery, attached to monitors, and an iv was started. They tested me and found that I was positive for fluid although I wasn't "pooling" fluid (which was good). I was having contractions that I wasn't feeling and was given a shot of terbutaline. Antibiotics were started and I had the steroid shot series to strengthen the babies' lungs. A technician from Dr. Doom's office came to scan the babies. We were told that I had lost fluid for baby A, but it looked like there was still sufficient fluid left.


I was hooked to the monitors for 48 hours straight. My contractions stopped relatively soon after the terb shot thankfully. I was given antibiotics every four hours to prevent the onset of infection, and we waited.

We prayed.

I got that scary speech about the odds if I delivered early. They would most likely survive, but they were at risk for blindness and brain issues. Plus we were told that boys are often weaker and experience more complications than girls.

We continued the waiting and praying.

The thought is that I had a tear in baby A's outer sac which may have healed over to stop the amniotic fluid loss. They did allow me to come back home on Saturday--back to bed rest. However, I continued the heavy duty antibiotics (every four hours) to prevent infection. I still leak something (not sure if it is fluid or urine) all the time, but the babies are looking okay so far. Scary as heck to go through this...

This week's OB appointments (I have been there twice) have discovered another infection, most likely brought on by the heavy antibiotics, and major hemorrhoids (sorry for tmi) to which even the doctor said, "Whoa!" when he saw them. I have been in MAJOR pain all week.

Tomorrow is a visit to Dr. Doom to reevaluate the babies and their fluid levels.

My confidence is gone.

I am weak and scared to death that something else will happen.

A Hard Day

This week has been filled with doctor visits. On Monday, I had a regular OB visit. These visits are pretty boring if you ask me. I go in, pee in a cup, they check my weight and blood pressure, and the doctor comes in to dopplar me. There is no ultrasounds to watch, no cooter cams, no "main event" so to speak. I did get a prescription for yet another UTI. Woohoo. Wild day.

Of course, I had to take a nap after the excursion...getting off of the bed really exhausts me now-a-days!

Yesterday we had another appointment with doctor doom. Again, I was up the night before, unable to sleep. I always worry that this place will give me some other bad news to add to the list. My husband had planned to come home to get me and then go with me to the appointment (like usual). This is kind of an inconvenience for him because he has to back track to our house a little to get me and then go back the same way to get to the doctor doom's. I am not supposed to drive, though, so this is how it has got to be.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get home from his work. It takes us exactly 1/2 hour to get to doctor doom's office when all of the traffic gods are lined up in our favor. I had asked my husband to get home a little earlier than that so I didn't feel so rushed.

(This is the story of my husband's life. He is NEVER early for anything and it drives me crazy. I am the kind of person who likes to have some breathing room before an appointment/event so I leave early. He thinks that if it takes 30 minutes to get to the doctor's appointment, then you should leave your house 30 minutes before the appointment.)

Well, he wasn't home early, and it isn't that I really expected him to be. It would have been nice, but I wasn't really going to complain about it. I called him to see if it was about time for me to start heading outside so we could just leave when he got there. This is the conversation we had...

Me: "Hey. Where are you?"

Him: "I am on ----." (still a good 15 minutes away from our house)

Him: "Shit...."

Me: "What!?"

Me: "The appointment is scheduled for 3:45! What is going on?"

Him: "Nothing. I'll be right there."

Two seconds later, he calls back to say...

Him: "Call your mom and see if she can take you down there. I'll meet you there. We'll never make it on time if I come to get you."

Me: "I can't call my mom. She isn't home. You were supposed to take me so she is off running errands!"

Him: "Well, you'll just have to drive yourself then."

With no other options, I grabbed my keys and took off.

This was the first and only time I've driven in five weeks. The driving itself was no problem, but I was having a lot of trouble breathing. The seats in my car are not comfortable, never have been, and never will be. Plus, it is a manual transmission. So, needless to say, I was getting quite worked up about the whole thing.

And, the traffic gods were not in my favor, of course.

So, I get to the appointment about 15 minutes late. Exhausted. Pissed. Still stressed about the appointment itself. Did I say PISSED?

The funny thing about appointments is that when you are late for yours, you have to wait until they can fit you in. That took a total of one hour. Yes, one hour. I sat for most of the time until the waiting room cleared and I was able to lay on their very uncomfortable couch.

So much for bed rest.

We did get to have our favorite ultrasound technician. That was a plus. She is just really good about walking us through what we see on the screen and she immediately tells us when things look normal or not. That is a tremendous relief.

The boys are doing well. Both are still ahead in growth. They are definitely cramped now, too. Both are 1 lb 14 ozs. Fluid is good. Cervix is holding for the most part. It went down to 1.3mm from the 1.4-1.5mm it was the last time. All in all, things are looking as good as can be expected.

Dr. doom came in and said that he really wants me to get to at least 29 weeks. I think he wants to start 'roiding me then. He doesn't really want to do it before then unless I have some turn for the worst. He said that both babies would most likely live at this point, but the possibility of brain issues or cerebral palsy is increased before that time. He also said that if I do have them early that it isn't anything I did to make it happen. That was nice of him. Again, I guess things are going as well as can be expected at this point.

Then I had to drive home. At 5:45 on a weekday. In southern California. Not fun.

I think I cried the entire way home. I was uncomfortable, tired, and still pissed at my husband.

He took a back road and apparently got home about 10 minutes before me. When I walked in, he was eating chips and watching TV.

Did I say I was PISSED! This did not help matters at all.

I went to bed and cried some more.

Today I am super sore under my ribs and on both sides. And I am still tired. And I am still a little mad. Sigh.