Waiting for Baby - Part 4

Now I realize even more how uncertain everything is regarding carrying a child and the delivery thereof. I’m feeling kind of silly right now. It has been 3 days and the baby still resides in my womb. The doctor said I haven’t even progressed at all! I was certain things had changed! It seems impossible, but now I will lie here for 2 more weeks and wait. My neighbor, also expecting a child (and being induced today), had an interesting bit of knowledge that she gleaned from her doctor last week after having very strong contractions herself and not going into labor. Apparently the barometric pressure has an influence over labor and delivery. That would explain what I was feeling! After looking online for information on this topic I have found varying opinions. Some studies show that a sharp drop in barometric pressure leads to more deliveries than a steady barometric pressure, and other studies show that there is not a strong connection between the two. All I know is that something crazy was going on in my body at the same time as my pregnant neighbor’s, and the pressure had dropped that night. Either way, I am grateful for the chance to keep him safe for a while longer so that he can be as strong as possible at birth. Maybe he will be born at term after all!
~~Katie

Waiting for Baby - Part 3

And now on to the third scenario, today’s pregnancy: Our daughter was just shy of her second birthday and we realized that I wasn’t getting any younger. Our third attempt at in vitro again was successful. I have to say that having to go that route to get pregnant is not the most enjoyable manner of procreation, but I am eternally grateful to the powers that be for having such luck each time. We know far too many people that have made repeated attempts at every type of fertility treatment to no avail. I can’t begin to imagine their frustration and disappointment, and my heart goes out to everyone in that situation. It just shouldn’t be that difficult to do something that most take for granted as a naturally-occurring and enjoyable thing.
Anyway, my doctors and I decided that since my daughter was born full-term we would skip the cerclage and bed rest this time and just pay attention to the signals my body gave me (in addition to cervical length ultrasounds every 2 weeks). Everything has been wonderful: No stress of preparing for a horrible disease or deciding whether or not to continue the pregnancy, no bed rest (aside from a couple of days after a scare at 18 weeks due to my irritable uterus), and I have felt really great. This is what pregnancy is supposed to be like! No wonder Mrs. Duggar has so many children! (Well, OK, maybe 18 or 19 is a bit drastic.) Then, about a month ago, I started to feel like things were changing and I asked my OB to check things out. Several hours after that I went into preterm labor and was admitted to the hospital (see my blog on patients’ rights from September 11), but thankfully the doctors were able to stop things in their tracks. After two days in the hospital I was discharged to go home on bed rest for 3 weeks, at which point I would be 34 weeks along. Even though that is still 3 weeks before a baby is considered term, the OB felt confident everything would be fine if he was born.
I have to say that bed rest is much more challenging with a toddler around, but 3 weeks compared to 4 months is not too bad at all. Finally it was my last day of lying around. The doctor said to be almost as careful as before, but if the baby came it would probably be OK. I awoke that morning with a feeling that things were about to happen. Our son was going to be born, and soon. Why does a mother know these things? There were no physical reasons to think so until later that day when my contractions, normally irregularly spaced and somewhat mild, became regular and much more intense. Then the lower back pain came with each contraction and horrible sciatica radiated in either leg (or sometimes both) every time I tried to walk.
I made it through the night without going to the hospital, but now my bag is packed just in case, the car seat is installed, the co-sleeper is ready, and I’m heading out for my OB appointment. Wonder what today will have in store? Will my mother’s intuition be right?
~~Katie~~

Waiting for Baby - Part 1

As I sit here preparing myself for the birth of my son, I think of all the other mothers-to-be who are in the same position. Some are really ready for the day to arrive after carrying the extra weight around for 40 weeks. Others, like me, are far enough along that a baby born at this time will probably be just fine (I am 34 weeks now). Still others aren’t thinking at all that their baby will be born until weeks or even months down the road, but they will arrive before anyone expects.

You see, I have experienced each of these scenarios. After undergoing in vitro fertilization, my first son was born at 23 weeks 6 days, one day before “viability”. My husband and I had known he would have cystic fibrosis after an amniocentesis was performed, and we were told by the doctors that we had to make the decision of keeping or terminating the pregnancy. We decided to fight the disease with him, and prepared ourselves, through much research and meeting with doctors, for life with a child suffering from that horrible disease.

Then, one day before going to work I noticed a change in pressure in my pelvic region. Having never been pregnant before, I just figured it was a normal change taking place. I spent the day at work as usual, but remember discussing with female colleagues the heavy feeling I was experiencing, like the baby was getting ready to come out. No one realized how accurate that feeling was. Later in the afternoon I started feeling strange sensations in my belly. They didn’t hurt, but just felt like uterine tightening that came at regular intervals. (Hello, those are contractions!)

The contractions became closer together and a little uncomfortable, and finally I decided to see if the doctor could fit me into his schedule. By the time I was seen in the doctor’s office the contractions were like clock work. Every five minutes. A non-stress test was performed but nothing registered. I knew something was happening, yet no one believed me. Finally a nurse took a look, and her words were (I still remember like it was yesterday), “All I see is membranes”. At that point she said my son would be born that night, there was no way to stop it, and he wouldn’t make it. Unfortunately she was right.

I was rushed by ambulance to a high-risk labor and delivery hospital with an excellent NICU, just in case the baby was born with a chance of survival. Magnesium sulfate was administered to stop the labor (thank goodness they don’t use that anymore), steroid shots were given (to develop the baby’s lungs), but to no avail. Later that night he was born and passed away within moments. He was tiny, perfect, and beautiful. It was a devastating loss for my husband and I, but there was some consolation in knowing he was spared from a life of pain from cystic fibrosis. Unfortunately we were lacking answers about why it happened. No one was sure if I had an incompetent cervix or if pre-term labor had been the cause of the early delivery.

Demand Good Care as a Patient

It’s amazing how powerless you are as a patient. Yes, I know, the patient has rights, but all-in-all, when you enter the hospital you leave the comfortable “I’m in control of my life” feeling and have to believe in the people to whom you have entrusted your care. I have been very lucky to have received great care with all of my pregnancies, complications and all. But there is always one employee I will encounter that I wonder how they got in the field of medicine to begin with: The overworked nurse who has no compassion for the woman who just lost her baby but just wants to free up the hospital bed, the lactation consultant who forgot long ago (or became desensitized to) the angst a new mother faces as she tries to latch her baby the “correct” way onto her breast, or a young male resident who didn’t take a moment to consider the sensitive emotional needs of a woman in pre-term labor as well as the delicate nature of the female anatomy.

I have always hated to complain on behalf of myself in public. I would argue about others’ rights and make sure I did what was necessary for everyone to get a fair shake. But people would walk all over me. Maybe my time in the Air Force changed that, maybe I just grew up. I now speak up when nurses are fantastic (or even just pretty good) and when things have gone awry I mention that too. Does that make me a complainer? I don’t think so, I just expect to be treated well when I am hurting. And so should you. We all should.

Recently I was admitted to the hospital for pre-term labor (like so many millions of other women each year). I was frightened – it wasn’t the first time. The nurses were listening to me tell about my symptoms and were monitoring them, but contractions weren’t showing up well. When the young male resident stepped in to talk I instantly had a bad feeling. He was arrogant. He was dismissive. I wasn’t having contractions according to the monitors, he told me. I measured 0 centimeters that morning at my OB’s office. I was surely still 0 cm now. I insisted that he take a look, and he was surprised to find I had dilated to 1-2 cm in a few short hours, and was 50% effaced. Not normal for 30 weeks into a pregnancy.

Of course the world turned upside-down after that. Now they were taking me seriously. There were nurses everywhere, suddenly the contractions were increasing in frequency and severity, this baby couldn’t come tonight. The resident returned to do the Group B Strep external swab. No biggie, right? Wrong. I.V. – no problem. Swab? Whoa, Buddy! What are you doing? I must have made some sound from the pain and he asked me what the problem was. “You stabbed me! That’s the problem!” I couldn’t help but blurt out in my stressed state. He muttered a brief, “Sorry”, under his breath and left the room. I immediately knew this was not the doc for me. (Not to mention that my husband looked like he might rip the resident’s head right off.) I rehashed the details for the nurse and told her I really didn’t want him to touch me again. “No problem”, she stated, and continued to say that someone else would take care of me. And someone would address his behavior with him.

Did I feel horribly guilty to deny his care? Absolutely. I have always hated to hurt peoples’ feelings. But he was the professional and I trusted him to care for me. I didn’t see him again. Later a nurse told me he had previous complaints against him. Sounds like someone picked the wrong field. Anyway, the next day the nurse manager came to ask about my experiences thus far. I told her that everyone was phenomenal – except one resident. She documented it, thanked me for my candor, and set about to discuss the problem with the necessary people. Of course I don’t want to make trouble for him, but mostly I am concerned about every other woman he will treat after me. Now I know that maybe, just maybe, another woman will benefit from my discomfort. I like to think that, anyway.
Every woman, whether it is for preterm or full-term labor, must be her own advocate. If something happens to you, tell someone on the staff whom you trust will help you. Patients cannot be treated to less than the best care possible. If you care for another, such as a child or older family member, it is your responsibility to speak up for them, too. If we don’t stop worrying about being perceived as trouble makers by the staff, or about hurting a callous doctor’s feelings, we sacrifice our own self esteem. We lessen the importance of us and our bodies. Remember (just like we teach our children): It is your body and no one gets to touch it without your permission. Even a doctor. Request someone new. You will get it, and when you explain your case maybe you will prevent someone else from having the same experience after you.