Breathe

Wow, what a word. Breathe.

I have had many a variation on it this week.

Monday was a trial. A day of severe contractions that sent me to my doctor, then on to the Maternal-Fetal specialist for an amnio and then to a triage room at the hospital for observation. Opinions were varied on whether or not they should let me deliver. They ran a short test on the amnio and we failed lung maturity. Consensus was that we should not deliver, if at all possible. I was largely neglected in the hospital. Repeated requests for water were ignored (I was not admitted at that point and was only supposed to be there 30 minutes for observation to make sure that the amnio had not disturbed the baby) Hours later (my contractions were not stopping for anything) I was so dehydrated that I required an IV. The nurse blew out the vein on my arm. Boy, did that hurt. She also yelled at me about my breathing through contractions. Apparently she felt that my inability to deal with the pain all stemmed from poor breathing technique that was messing up their ability to monitor my contractions. My stomach is on the small side and they pick up every bump the baby makes, and every deep breath I take. I was ordered to breathe shallowly and not move. Now that's comfortable.

I was sent home after a 12 hour day. They were able to get the contractions to be a little less strong and my cervix of steel had barely budged. My doctor told me that there was a chance that we could pass the longer amnio test, and if we did she would let me deliver. The floor doctor (who was not the friendliest gal I have ever met) told me that it would be a miracle for that to be true.

So, I didn't want to hold my breath.

I waited until after 5 p.m. on Tuesday to find out the results from the long test. We passed! We needed a 2.0 and and got a 2.5 [so there, floor doctor] Given those results I was told that we still had about a 5% chance of respiratory distress if we delivered at this point, but that if I can hang in until the weekend that it would be less than 1% [given the standard anticipated increase.] And, so instead of my doctors original decision that it would be Dec. 23 or 30 [Her induction days at the hospital] she decided that since she is on call all weekend and does not celebrate Christmas, that she was encouraging me to try to make it to the weekend, but that if at any point I just can't take it, to call her and we will deliver.

Wow, a sigh of relief and huge amount of decision anxiety lifted from my shoulders.

But then, I woke today to the bad cold that the girls have had. All that easy breathing has been replaced by a need for Kleenex!

So, I am hanging in there. Yesterday was pretty light in the contraction department [pain not frequency] but they have been gearing up this evening. Hoping that we can make it to Saturday. That would also get the majority of this cold under my belt and be on the mend [Chase was pretty much better on day 3! Ellis is on day 2 and I think she is turning the corner, knock on wood.]

So, I may not be breathing up to par, but metaphorically I am breathing MUCH easier.