Yesterday had been such a good day. I'd actually allowed myself to have hope that things were going to go the way we wanted them to. I got to be in my own house again and wear my own clothes. I slept in my own bed. I got to see my dogs and cat (it may sound trivial, but I had missed them and their cuddles). My house was the cleanest it had been in quite some time (and I hadn't done anything . . . again I felt guilty but it was still nice and very appreciated). We were surrounded by loving family. All in all a good day. It's amazing how quickly things can change.
I'd slept pretty well (much better than when I was in the hospital at least). I got up at 2am to take the procardia and things were fine. I woke up at 6am to take the next procardia and again things were fine. The 10am procardia was a different story. I decided to actually get up this time and maybe move to the couch (plus I needed to use the restroom). I sat up in bed and knew something was wrong. I got up and there was a small dark spot on the sheet. I went to the restroom and was again greeted with more bleeding. I was beginning to hate our bathroom. It wasn't as bad as the first night, but it was a lot. I was so mad. Things had been going so well. I couldn't even cry I was so dumbfounded. I asked Adam to grab some clothes for me and told him we needed to go back to the hospital, I was bleeding again. I left our room and told my mom because she was the first person I saw. She said she'd drive Adam and I in my car so we could just get out and she'd go park the car. We told Adam's Mom and sister what was going on and left.
I got in the car (the seat was still reclined) and started crying. I just couldn't believe it. I'd finally, truly given myself over to hope and positivity and now this. It was like a punch in the face, in the gut, in the kidney and all over my body. I put my hand in the backseat and Adam held it. We'd been given the number for labor and delivery before I was discharged and were told that if we needed to come back in to call on our way so they'd be ready. We called and they said to get a wheelchair when we came in the main entrance and head up. Mom pulled up and Adam and I got out. Adam got a wheelchair for me and we went to the elevators. When we got off on the maternity floor Adam wheeled me to the registration area. We told them we'd just left yesterday but I was bleeding again and that we'd called ahead. They called back to the nurse's station and were told to have me come straight back, they'd register me in a room.
There was a group of people waiting to go back and visit someone standing in front of the door. The registration person taking me back asked them to please move so she could take a scared patient back. Boy was she right. I was terrified. She wheeled me to the nurse's station and one of the nurses who had taken care of me during my last stay was standing there and gave me a sad look and asked, "More bleeding?" I just nodded and cried. I still couldn't believe this was happening. The only good thing was that I already knew I was going to be taken care of. The nurses were wonderful. Another nurse that had taken care of me the first time heard I was coming back and wanted to take me. It was touching and meant a lot to know I'd have someone I already knew taking care of me since I was so freaked out. They took me into the room next to the one I was in that first night. It all felt so familiar. I couldn't believe we were here again. I'd been home for less than 24 hours and now we were back and my life was upside down again. They got me registered (again), drew blood (again), got me hooked up to the IV, contraction monitor, blood pressure cuff and scuds (again, again, again and again). Then we waited for a doctor.
The high risk doctor I'd been seeing wasn't on today, another member in the practice was. So now I'd gotten to meet all 3 of them . . . lucky me. He came in and said I was going back on the magnesium sulfate (again to quiet things down) and IV antibiotics. I didn't have a temperature and hadn't had one for the brief time I was home, but better to err on the side of caution. They scheduled an ultrasound for the morning. I wasn't having contractions (that I could tell) and my bleeding had slowed. He said that the bleeding could have been due to stress on the cervix (I had been very active the day before) and not to worry too much yet. Easy for him to say. Luckily our daughter seemed to still be doing well. She was moving and her heartbeat was still strong.
My nurse came in and it was nice to see her. They got everything hooked up to my IV and now we just waited (and tried not to go crazy). I'd already had a lot of activity for the day and they thought that activity might have been why I started bleeding, so I was on strict bed rest . . . which meant using the bed pan . . . not an experience I would recommend. Adam called into work just in case. Things hadn't changed, but we both felt better knowing he would be there with me.
Besides everything else that was going on, they got my blood work from my admission back and my liver enzymes were elevated. They check them because an elevation can be a sign of preeclampsia. However, since I wasn't far enough along for that to really be an issue and my blood pressure was still fine they were a bit stumped as to why they would be elevated. The doctor ordered a 24 hour urine collection to try and get an idea of what was going on. I was also going to have more blood work throughout the day and next morning. My arms were looking pretty rough. I had all kinds of bruises and punctures all over them from the IVs (I'd had 3 now, 2 from the first week because they have to change the site after 4 days and now this one since I was back), what felt like a billion blood draws and the all the tape residue from the IVs and sticks. At this point what was a few more?
At one point during the day there was a clear spot on one of the chucks (the blue pads they put under you to catch fluid) under me. My nurse asked if I'd felt anything, but I hadn't. I knew what she was wondering. Was it amniotic fluid? She tried to test it but it was too dry. She told me to let her know immediately if I felt anything else. She came in a bit later and turned the chucks upside down so that if any other fluid came out it wouldn't be absorbed so she could test it. A little while later another doctor who was part of the labor and delivery team came in to do an ultrasound to check the fluid level of the amniotic sac. The ultrasound showed that the fluid level was fine, no sign of any rupture. Our baby looked good too. We got to see her move around and her heartbeat was still strong. Seeing her was the bright spot of the day, knowing she was still doing OK despite everything.
Adam was going to stay with me that night, so once he got back from grabbing some dinner my mom went back to the house. Adam's mom and sister dropped by at one point to check on us and bring us some stuff (we'd literally just walked out of the house with nothing . . . I had my phone and insurance card and that's it). It was my Dad's birthday so I called him too. He was planning to come down the next day and I was looking forward to seeing him. They moved us to another room at some point before we were ready to try and sleep (the one we were in was just an in take room).
We were back to nights being the worst time of day. I was again torn between wanting it to drag so I didn't have to face something else bad in the morning and wanting it to go by quickly so we could say we made it through another day without anything else happening. I was also paranoid about any possible leaking. There were several times I thought maybe I felt something, but each time it was either nothing or there wasn't really anything for them to test. The chucks were plastic side up so they were very hot and itchy. I was still using the bed pan. The mag made my face feel like it was on fire. It was a rough night to say the least.
While it was a difficult day and night, nothing else happened, so that was a relief. I still had some bleeding, but it wasn't very much. The contraction monitor had picked up maybe one or two possible contractions, but I really hadn't felt anything so that was another good sign. Our daughter was still moving and had a strong heartbeat. While I was far from hopeful, I did take some comfort in knowing that at least things were staying pretty much the same. I was now at 22 weeks 2 days.
No comments:
Post a Comment