We had a fun little trip this week to Vassar Hospital to check out the fancy maternity unit. I also got to ride in a wheelchair from the ER and an excellent shot of muscle relaxant.
Here's the back story:
Tuesday night I had just some vague ick. Nothing specific, I was just more uncomfortable than usual. I didn't really do much during the day, but I did take a few trips up and down the stairs so I figured I was just tired.
I woke up Wednesday morning... well, starting at 2am really and I still had cramping and just a vague, "this is not good feeling". I was up pretty much every hour or so to go to the bathroom. Trust me, this is excessive, even for me :)
Around 8am I finally broke down and called my OB. I went in to the office when they opened and they hooked me up to the fetal monitor. I figured that I would just lay there for a half hour and they would tell me I was crazy and to go home. So, yeah, that didn't happen. As I was laying on the table, I had three contractions. in about 45 minutes.
The weird thing about it was that it was sort of fascinating to have this feeling of being squeezed like toothpaste and watching the numbers shoot up on the display. After the doctor came in and reassured me that my cervix was fine, they decided to do a fetal fibronectin and send me to Vassar anyway.
Ugh. I had sent H to work and my mom was actually calling the doctor's office wondering what had happened to me (I called her before I called the OB and she hadn't heard back from me in over 2 hours). Thankfully, she only works a few minutes away so she came to pick me up and drive me to the hospital. I continued to have irregular contractions in the car and even walking in to the ER. That was fun.
When I got in to the ER, I told them I was having contractions and I think due to my ginormous size (pictures to follow soon, I promise) they plopped me right into a wheelchair and brought me upstairs.
They monitored the babies' heart rates and my contractions for another few hours and then finally decided to give me a shot to stop the contractions. The babies' were great the whole time; good heart rates, good movement. They actually were kicking so much, they were moving the belts. The contractions actually weren't so bad, but I didn't want them to progress and wind up delivering 2 pound and a half babies.
After the shot, they checked the babies again and they were just as bouncy as before so they sent me home. I got home and poor H had finally made it home. It took him almost 4 hours to get from his office to the house.
We called him when they were discharging me and he was just on the road up to the hospital. We told him to go home. He was less than pleased. But mostly because it took him so long to get to me and he couldn't really get in touch with us to find out what was happening. Plus it probably didn't help that I lost my shit on the phone with him as I was walking back to the house to wait for my mom to take me to the hospital. So he had a pretty shitty day and didn't even get a wheelchair ride or a turkey sandwich.
I continued to have some mild blech feelings for the rest of the day, but by Thursday I was feeling much better. From what I can figure, the pressure I was feeling was probably due to the fact that both babies were smashed as far down into my hips as possible. All this room in the gigantor belly and they are wedging themselves into the tiniest space I have.
Last night I had an U/S appt and the babies looked good. Not that they were helpful to the tech. The were breech and transverse across each other and facing my back so it was difficult to get a good shot of either of their faces, but I saw little feet and a hand waving and wiggling little fingers. The right-side baby continued to moon the camera the entire time. The only shots I have of her involve her butt. She's also the one who likes to kick me in the ribs. what joy.
After the U/S, I saw one of the doctors. She told me I had done the right thing by calling when I did and that it's very likely to happen again. Double joy. My new instructions are to count up the contractions and if I get more than 6 in an hour, call in and they will most likely send me straight to the hospital.
So that's the drama. Now I am doing even less than before, if that's even possible. There's two days worth of dishes in the sink and I am not dealing with them. I did manage to take a shower and wash my hair, so that was a plus.
I just figured I'd update the troops in case anyone was wondering what happened to me :) But we are all OK now, so don't worry.