So this morning, we went to monitoring as usual, except I had Joe come with me because we had a bet going for his size and today was my growth ultrasound. (I thought he'd be close to 5 lbs and Joe was thinking close to 6 lbs.) WELL, Luke decided to be especially uncooperative today, with a non-reactive nonstress test PLUS four or five sharp and 30+ second lasting decelerations. (It was bad enough that my favorite nurse faxed the test strip to the doctor, which they don't typically do there, they just sum up what it looked like for them.) So we went on to the growth ultrasound and biophysical profile, he was sluggish as far as movement and did not practice breathing= big fat fail.
My high risk doctor was on duty in the perinatal center and she was already weary about the direction things have been going, (although of course everything has been better the last couple of days although now that I've been released, I'm noticing the heartburn is back). so she decided to have them send me to the hospital to get admitted for more monitoring.
So there we went. They were expecting me and put me in a room and gown right away and on a monitor. Everything was normal. And the baby was suddenly very well behaved. (Of course he was!) After a couple hours of a very well behaved baby, (Joe napped while I watched the news and then Ellen and then we argued about what to put on after Ellen), they decided to send me down for another biophysical profile and would decide what to do from there.
I didn't mind getting admitted to the hospital so much, since with Olivia I arrived at this particular hospital via a stretcher and ambulance, that part was different. And I don't even remember ending up on that particular floor though I guess I was probably there (you kind of skip the front desk when you arrive escorted by EMT's and I wasn't exactly looking around the last time.) Being in a room, with monitors, not exactly sure how worried to be, sent there unexpectedly without my hospital bag or anything but my purse (last time I at least brought a book and my purse), was a little unsettling and deja vu like, to say the least. But with Olivia, we could never hear her heartbeat on the monitors (they tried and tried and then checked on an ultrasound to make sure she was still alive, and even when they put the monitor right where she was on the ultrasound, it didn't pick it up, because she was so little (they still made me wear the stupid contraction part anyway though.) So it wasn't as bad, because I could hear his heart beating nonstop and if it sounded like it slowed down I could glance up and see what his heart rate was. And I wasn't in any pain and feeling decent, so it was different enough that I wasn't totally having a post traumatic stress flashback. But when we waited forever for them to come get me, and I had to get in the wheelchair in 2 gowns and a sheet over my lap...that was a little too similar and a little too much like after we waited and waited for them to come take us for the last ultrasound with Olivia.
Granted, a different hospital, different situation, and this time I was wheeled past the NICU on the way to the ultrasound instead of a nursery...but ugh...it was still horrible. Even though I'd just sat listening to his heart rate for a couple hours and feeling him move like a maniac...it was too similar to being wheeled to the last ultrasound with Olivia and having the worst discussion of my life with the high risk doctor there. (It was actually in the ultrasound room where they told us it was HELLP and they managed to talk me into delivering after we learned she was in distress.) So by the time we were in an ultrasound room and Joe and I were alone, I definitely had a mini breakdown. Joe thought I was freaked out about the baby but really it was just too much like last time at that particular moment. (I'm really really glad it wasn't at the same hospital, where we had that last ultrasound with Olivia, or it would have really really spazzed me out.) By the time the ultrasound tech was in, I was better. But blech. I used to have flashbacks all of the time that first year, especially while driving to work, I'd be thinking of one thing and all of a sudden I was reliving one of the bad moments from that week. This wasn't exactly like a flashback, but it had me a bit freaked out, for sure.
Luckily, today was nothing like that day. The little stinker baby decided to practice breathing TWICE, long enough each time to count, and after being shaken up quite a bit by the ultrasound tech (she literally was shaking my belly so much with the ultrasound probe that it made the table move...I wanted to tell her to stop shaking my baby! Sheesh, leave the poor kid alone...it would never be okay to shake a newborn like that. When she left the room I asked Joe and he said it bugged him too...I mean, I know they like to poke and prod them a little to get them moving but this was a little extreme.) Anyway, he moved enough (and I wasn't especially worried about that because he'd been moving like a maniac with the monitor on upstairs), and everything else looked good. The tech left and my high risk doctor came in shaking her head with a big smile, "Didya miss me?" Apparently we did.
So she decided no more monitoring at the other place near us which is only 5 minutes away, she wants me to do monitoring at the hospital where they have a doctor right there and so they can send me right upstairs if he's causing trouble again. Which is fine with me, I'd been considering that anyway. But it's going to suck as far as driving 30 min vs. 5 min and not to mention the perinatal center in the hospital is *much* more busy so it's going to be a big time suck too. Those things are trivial so I'm not really worried about it, it's just probably going to make monitoring an all day affair as opposed to an hour or so.
I was glad that they sent us to the hospital vs. shrugging it off and sending me home, I'd have been a neurotic mess all weekend. As it is, I'm a bit on edge, though not nearly as edgy as I would be if I hadn't watched his heart rate look pretty perfect with several nice accelerations for 3ish hours. I go back Monday to see my high risk doctor, get steroid shots, and possibly monitoring again. (I know I have monitoring on either Monday or Tuesday, right now it's scheduled for Monday but I'm going to try to reschedule it for Tuesday, I forgot I'm going to have to go back for the second round of steroid shots Tuesday anyway.) Besides that, everything is normal, though obviously they want me to keep doing kick counts and pay attention to how he's moving (and also, apparently I was having some contractions on their monitor so they want me to keep an eye on that too.)
The most dramatic part of the day (besides the whole getting admitted to the hospital and the baby having a pretty crappy NST this morning bit), was when all of a sudden the monitor started making a shrill alarm noise. Joe looked at it quickly and realized it was out of paper. But really! You would think they'd come up with a nicer, less alarming "out of paper" noise, lest they give some poor pregnant woman a heart attack when the monitor on the baby starts alarming! Whoever came up with that idea should be smacked a few times. (And apparently that's not just here, the monitors other places do that too. That's just messed up, I think.)
In other news, for his growth ultrasound, he measured in at 5 LBS! (+/- 12 ounces.) I think it put him in the 73 percentile so not that bad as far as too big (considering last time was 76 percentile) and exactly what I expected.
Apparently a nice, boring, uneventful pregnancy is not in the cards for us. This is going to be a very long 4.5 more weeks.
My high risk doctor was on duty in the perinatal center and she was already weary about the direction things have been going, (although of course everything has been better the last couple of days although now that I've been released, I'm noticing the heartburn is back). so she decided to have them send me to the hospital to get admitted for more monitoring.
So there we went. They were expecting me and put me in a room and gown right away and on a monitor. Everything was normal. And the baby was suddenly very well behaved. (Of course he was!) After a couple hours of a very well behaved baby, (Joe napped while I watched the news and then Ellen and then we argued about what to put on after Ellen), they decided to send me down for another biophysical profile and would decide what to do from there.
I didn't mind getting admitted to the hospital so much, since with Olivia I arrived at this particular hospital via a stretcher and ambulance, that part was different. And I don't even remember ending up on that particular floor though I guess I was probably there (you kind of skip the front desk when you arrive escorted by EMT's and I wasn't exactly looking around the last time.) Being in a room, with monitors, not exactly sure how worried to be, sent there unexpectedly without my hospital bag or anything but my purse (last time I at least brought a book and my purse), was a little unsettling and deja vu like, to say the least. But with Olivia, we could never hear her heartbeat on the monitors (they tried and tried and then checked on an ultrasound to make sure she was still alive, and even when they put the monitor right where she was on the ultrasound, it didn't pick it up, because she was so little (they still made me wear the stupid contraction part anyway though.) So it wasn't as bad, because I could hear his heart beating nonstop and if it sounded like it slowed down I could glance up and see what his heart rate was. And I wasn't in any pain and feeling decent, so it was different enough that I wasn't totally having a post traumatic stress flashback. But when we waited forever for them to come get me, and I had to get in the wheelchair in 2 gowns and a sheet over my lap...that was a little too similar and a little too much like after we waited and waited for them to come take us for the last ultrasound with Olivia.
Granted, a different hospital, different situation, and this time I was wheeled past the NICU on the way to the ultrasound instead of a nursery...but ugh...it was still horrible. Even though I'd just sat listening to his heart rate for a couple hours and feeling him move like a maniac...it was too similar to being wheeled to the last ultrasound with Olivia and having the worst discussion of my life with the high risk doctor there. (It was actually in the ultrasound room where they told us it was HELLP and they managed to talk me into delivering after we learned she was in distress.) So by the time we were in an ultrasound room and Joe and I were alone, I definitely had a mini breakdown. Joe thought I was freaked out about the baby but really it was just too much like last time at that particular moment. (I'm really really glad it wasn't at the same hospital, where we had that last ultrasound with Olivia, or it would have really really spazzed me out.) By the time the ultrasound tech was in, I was better. But blech. I used to have flashbacks all of the time that first year, especially while driving to work, I'd be thinking of one thing and all of a sudden I was reliving one of the bad moments from that week. This wasn't exactly like a flashback, but it had me a bit freaked out, for sure.
Luckily, today was nothing like that day. The little stinker baby decided to practice breathing TWICE, long enough each time to count, and after being shaken up quite a bit by the ultrasound tech (she literally was shaking my belly so much with the ultrasound probe that it made the table move...I wanted to tell her to stop shaking my baby! Sheesh, leave the poor kid alone...it would never be okay to shake a newborn like that. When she left the room I asked Joe and he said it bugged him too...I mean, I know they like to poke and prod them a little to get them moving but this was a little extreme.) Anyway, he moved enough (and I wasn't especially worried about that because he'd been moving like a maniac with the monitor on upstairs), and everything else looked good. The tech left and my high risk doctor came in shaking her head with a big smile, "Didya miss me?" Apparently we did.
So she decided no more monitoring at the other place near us which is only 5 minutes away, she wants me to do monitoring at the hospital where they have a doctor right there and so they can send me right upstairs if he's causing trouble again. Which is fine with me, I'd been considering that anyway. But it's going to suck as far as driving 30 min vs. 5 min and not to mention the perinatal center in the hospital is *much* more busy so it's going to be a big time suck too. Those things are trivial so I'm not really worried about it, it's just probably going to make monitoring an all day affair as opposed to an hour or so.
I was glad that they sent us to the hospital vs. shrugging it off and sending me home, I'd have been a neurotic mess all weekend. As it is, I'm a bit on edge, though not nearly as edgy as I would be if I hadn't watched his heart rate look pretty perfect with several nice accelerations for 3ish hours. I go back Monday to see my high risk doctor, get steroid shots, and possibly monitoring again. (I know I have monitoring on either Monday or Tuesday, right now it's scheduled for Monday but I'm going to try to reschedule it for Tuesday, I forgot I'm going to have to go back for the second round of steroid shots Tuesday anyway.) Besides that, everything is normal, though obviously they want me to keep doing kick counts and pay attention to how he's moving (and also, apparently I was having some contractions on their monitor so they want me to keep an eye on that too.)
The most dramatic part of the day (besides the whole getting admitted to the hospital and the baby having a pretty crappy NST this morning bit), was when all of a sudden the monitor started making a shrill alarm noise. Joe looked at it quickly and realized it was out of paper. But really! You would think they'd come up with a nicer, less alarming "out of paper" noise, lest they give some poor pregnant woman a heart attack when the monitor on the baby starts alarming! Whoever came up with that idea should be smacked a few times. (And apparently that's not just here, the monitors other places do that too. That's just messed up, I think.)
In other news, for his growth ultrasound, he measured in at 5 LBS! (+/- 12 ounces.) I think it put him in the 73 percentile so not that bad as far as too big (considering last time was 76 percentile) and exactly what I expected.
Apparently a nice, boring, uneventful pregnancy is not in the cards for us. This is going to be a very long 4.5 more weeks.
3 comments:
I hope the remainder of your pregnancy remain as uneventful. :)
I will tell you something crazy: when I had my TAC operation, they admitted me for two days in the SAME room where I gave birth to Adrian. It was obviously very stressful for me but I know what you mean about being back in the hospital and having flashbacks. Hang in there.
Oh gosh I can imagine how difficult the sense of deja vu must be in that situation... I'm glad that Baby is behaving himself. I hope your monitoring continues to go well--and I think it's a good thing you'll be going to the hospital for it, even if it's a pain. Peace of mind and all that...
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