The beginning of the end of it all

With the exception of a two night hospital stay in early January for hyperemesis and dehydration, likely due to something I picked up while DH and I were on our last child-free vacation, the pregnancy progressed smoothly until 27 weeks 6 days exactly. That morning, a Tuesday, I woke up to some vaginal bleeding. I was relatively unconcerned, given all the bleeding I'd had previously in the pregnancy. I knew it warranted a call to the doctor, but I decided to wait until I got to work so I could actually speak to someone I knew as opposed to the answering service. As soon as I knew thw office was open, I called. They didn't seem terribly alarmed wither, but said I would need to come in and be checked, just in case. My appointment was mid-morning, and I bid my little first-graders good-bye with the promise that I'd return later that day.
I arrived at the doctor's office and was seen by the other doctor in the practice, as mine was there, but busy. After a check by the doc, I was summoned to her office and told that the bleeding had apparently been my mucous plug, and I appeared to have some cervical changes, and I should proceed directly to the hospital to be monitored. They would be waiting for me. I should not attempt to go home first. It was straight to the hospital. I realized at this point that everything might not be fine and I was shaking and fighting back tears as I dialed the receptionist's phone to let DH know what was going on. He didn't sense the urgency and I had to ask him twice to leave work and meet me.
I arrived at the hospital, where I had been for countless ultrasounds and endless blood work. I had envisioned showing up here to have my baby. I hadn't envisioned being here at not quite 28 weeks and telling the receptionist that I was to report to Labor and Delivery. I had never even seen Labor and Delivery. I was too early to have scheduled a hospital tour and our childbirth classes were two weeks away from commencing. I took the elevator downstairs and reported to the nurse, who led me in to a nicely appointed labor and delivery suite. She left me with a gown and instructions to change my clothes. . I looked around and caught sight of a plastic bassinet. The kind they wheel the babies back and forth to the nursery in, and the real panic set in. It was way too early for this. What exactly was I doing here? I remember changing my clothes, but I don't recall the arrival of my husband, or my doctor, who had left the office to come over when he'd gotten the other doctor's report. I remember an ultrasound machine being wheeled in (and I was relieved to see Jeannie manning it again.) My doctor performed my second pelvic exam of the day and reported that my cervix was 2-3 cm, dilated and 80% effaced. I knew that wasn't good. They hooked me up to a monitor to determine if I was having contractions. A short time later, the nurse reported that I was contracting every 3-5 minutes. I was asked how long I had been having contractions, and I didn't know. I had been uncomfortable on and off, but never felt any pain like what I imagined a contraction would bring. We waited, and the doctor said "Right now, you're having a contraction. How long have you been feeling like this?' "Since Sunday, maybe." (It was Tuesday.) I was informed I was being transferred to another hospital equipped to handle a baby born three months early. The ambulance was on its way. My doctor also informed me they would be giving me magnesium sulfate to stop the contractions. A loader dose would be given now, and a drip would be administered after that. He said the loader dose might make me a little hot and possibly a little nauseous. That was an understatement. Within a fairly short time after receiving the loader dose, I began expecting my head to spontaneously combust. I was baffled when I was bundled up before being put in the ambulance. I had forgotten that it was March and cold outside, a stark contrast to the intense heat I was feeling. I embarked on my first ambulance ride, and DH promised to meet me at my destination.

Skip It

Rather than try to force myself to write about a chunk of time I have no motivation to write about, I've decided to skip it. If I fast forward to when things got moving again, then maybe I can keep this blog on track.