Thanks for all of your comments on my gestational diabetes whine-fest. If you didn’t read it and are in the mood for a mild to moderate pity party (but an honest one) you can find it here.
(I replied to most of the comments so far in the comment section. Do you guys like or dislike the new comment form? Or are you indifferent? It is so much easier to reply to the commenter this way, but I will still do email responses on occasion, too.)
Back to Layla. Because I have gestational diabetes, it puts Layla is at a higher risk for certain complications. For instance, she could gain too much weight or it could affect the amount of amniotic fluid (either too much or too little) or it could cause her distress/failure to thrive, etc. I am being monitored twice a week at the hospital for Layla’s heartbeat and fetal movements…and contractions (if any), along with an ultrasound measuring fluids and growth.
Sorry for the dark camera phone picture. Most of you who have had babies probably know exactly what this is. It is just two bands that are hooked up to a monitor. I am usually there less than an hour so it is not too bad. So far everything has been A-OK. Layla has been doing great and everything has been looking completely normal. Thank God for that.
I had my last monitor session on Monday afternoon. Everything was fine that day… I felt good…completely normal. I ran errands, did some shopping and came home to work on a project for Layla’s nursery.
At this point (Monday afternoon) I didn’t even know what a contraction would feel like. I am pretty sure I hadn’t had any Braxton Hicks either. Out of nowhere, I just started not feeling good. My belly was kind of tightening and feeling crampy but nothing I would consider to be alarming. Then about 6 o’clock they began to become more regular… which, at this point, I had decided this was exactly what Braxton Hicks were according to my 690 books that I’ve read on pregnancy. So I decided to lay down for a little bit and wait for Jon to get home from work so we could go to dinner (it was our anniversary). Then, not only were these “Braxton Hicks” becoming more intense and regular, but they were becoming painful to the point I didn’t even want to get off the couch. Jon finally got home from work and the last thing I wanted to do was eat when my stomach was cramped up as tight as a rock. After talking to my mom and sister, I began timing them (even though I still wasn’t sure what I was timing) and I was getting a contraction every 6 minutes or so. I felt silly calling the nurse because I know that I’m clueless and felt embarrassed that I might be overreacting to something completely normal. However, I also know that no amount of pregnancy books are going to translate what is happening in each person’s situation. We called the nurse anyway and naturally she wanted me to come in and get checked out.
So we arrived at the hospital around 10:30pm and got all hooked up to the monitors to see what was going on. I suppose it wasn’t a figment of my imagination… I was having a contraction every 3-5 minutes for almost an hour…at which point I wanted to start panicking! I am only 34 weeks… Layla can’t be born this early. OHMYGOSH, I’m not ready to do this. Where is my epidural?? haha
And then the nurse asked if I wanted ice chips.
Squirrel! I was like the dog in the movie UP. Completely distracted at the thought of ICE CHIPS. I don’t think I’ve told y’all but I’ve been borderline OBSESSED with ice this entire pregnancy. Some women want ice cream, I want ice. And, yes, some ice is better than others. Sonic ice, for instance, is pretty much ice chips… perfect for the chewin. But I’ll eat any of it.
So when the nurse asked me if I wanted some ice chips… I was in hog heaven. I was even able to give a “grin and bear it” fake smile while holding my cup-o-ice-chips mid contraction.
Back to the drama.
I’m now starting to freak out that I could very possibly be getting ready to push out a baby… completely unexpected. I started thinking of all the things not finished with her nursery yet and decide that she can’t come. haha But of course, that isn’t exactly my decision.
So they get me started on an IV and the doctor comes in to run some tests and examine me.
Surprisingly, I am not dilated or effaced at all. So these wacky contractions that I’m having are probably triggered by something else. The test results came back and found that I was dehydrated… which kind of shocked me since I had been drinking so much. Then again, we are in the midst of another heat spell… so maybe that had something to do with it. And, they also found a bacterial infection in my system. Both culprits for starting pre-term contractions.
The contractions started to get less intense and more sporadic…so they released us at around 3am. The entire time I kept telling Jon that I felt like throwing up, but didn’t want to get up with an IV in my arm and didn’t want to throw up in the bucket he kept offering me. Warning TMI to follow, skip to the next sentence if you are sensitive about these things. When we got home, I ran straight to the bathroom and threw up like I was in a horror movie. I can’t even remember a time when I have thrown up so violently. I felt somewhat better after and went to bed, still having sporadic contractions.
The next morning, I literally felt like I had been hit by a train. Everything hurt. From my head to my ankles but especially my stomach and back. I was sore but achy at the same time. I was running a low grade fever (which I had at the hospital, too) and was getting chills. I kept thinking that maybe I caught a flu bug? Or maybe it was just the bacterial infection? I tried to get up and walk around which lasted for about 30 seconds. Even sitting up made me feel more sick. Needless to say, I spent about 95% of my day laying in bed, sleeping on and off.
Last night was even worse than the night before. Do you know when you feel so sick and hurt so bad that laying isn’t even comfortable? No matter which way you turn? And turning requires so much effort, but suddenly you have the urge to flip ever 10 seconds? Ugh. It was so awful. I finally just got up at 6 and tried to eat breakfast. I took my medicine and went back to bed and just tried to rest.
The fact that I’m even able to sit up and type a blog is a major improvement (even if I have to write it in intervals to go lay down). Normally, I would just understand that I have to let the sickness just run it’s course… but I am supposed to be going to Southern California for my baby shower this weekend. Which terrifies me that 1) I will start to have contractions again while I’m down there and will be 5 hours away from my doctor and 2) that I will still feel sick the entire time. I’ve been looking forward to this for so long… I can’t even stand the thought of not going. But at the same time, I want to be realistic to my circumstance. My going will largely depend on the outcome of tomorrow’s doctors appointment and hospital appointment, and of course how I feel. I’m praying that this was all due to the bacterial infection and that the medicine will fight it all off and I’ll be back to normal in no time. I can only pray.
For now, I’m just trying to stay hydrated (even though the taste of water right now makes me want throw up and my only other non-sugar option is iced tea) and to get plenty of rest. Hopefully, that will be enough to get over this and to keep Layla cookin’ for at least another 3-6 weeks. I’m just thankful that she is still moving around regularly and that her heartbeat is still sounding good.
So that is where I’m at. Y’all are up to speed.
If you have any recommendations on how to get better in the next day or two, please tell. I need nothing short of a miracle right now.