I was gchatting with a friend this afternoon. We were discussing the events of life from the past few days (happy 2 months to Baker), and I told her that the sky was falling. She told me I should blog and that it should be entitled "Chicken Little". Until my insomnia kicked back in I hadn't given it another thought, but here I lie at 4:30 AM with nothing better to do in the way of killing time.
Now don't get me wrong, I LOVE me some Emory. I just thought that somehow after having to be on fertility drugs for almost two years that I somehow "deserved" an easy pregnancy. I realize now that nothing worth having comes without a fight...including our little man.
Aside from hyperemesis the first 6 months of pregnancy (look it up - in short I was sick 10 to 15 times a day even when I was on constant nausea meds), I was blessed with some new friends in the form of gallstones somewhere around month 4 of this journey. I didn't know at the time what it was. I just hurt. I thought it'd would go away, but despite my best efforts the pain intensified, so I finally told my doctor about 8 weeks later. A few tests and an ultrasound later and the culprits had a name.
The problem with gallstones and pregnancy is that 1) they are painful, 2) they become more painful as real estate becomes scarce, 3) when your son kicks them it feels a lot like evil villains having a knife fight with your body right under your ribs, and 4) your diet is as bland and boring as they come. The diet wasn't much of an adjustment since I had struggled to keep food down the previous months. So aside from the pain and lack of surgical options due to being in the third trimester, we were fairing well.
UNTIL lately.
I have been struggling with finding a happy medium between my very limited gestational diabetes diet and my very bland gallstone diet. There are very few foods that overlap, and I am now at the point where anything besides water hurts the gallstones. Well this weekend kicked off a series of gallstone attacks. I've had them before, but the bigger I get the worse they feel. I will spare the unpleasantries, but let's just say that my sugar levels were great this weekend because I couldn't keep a thing down.
I also developed some fun little contractions in the midst of my attacks. The problem lies in the fact that they didn't go away when the attacks were over. So Monday I called my GI. My GI told me to call my GI surgeon. My GI surgeon has 6 daughters. He informed me previously that he would be taking the two youngest to Vegas for Spring Break so they would stay out of trouble elsewhere. Guess what week this is? So, GI surgeon's assistant told me to call my OB because I was pregnant. So, my very nice OB called back and said come on in. I did so, they put the baby on a monitor (still having trouble finding his heart beat at 8 months) so the poor nurse had to stand there and hold the monitor for 15 minutes after it took 2 nurses, a sonogram, and the doctor to actually find his heartbeat. Dr. Sal said that I was sent to her because once they open my chart at other offices and discover I am pregnant, it's much like discovering a bomb in an airport. Apparently, everyone is running for cover from me. :-)
At the end of my very long appointment, I was admitted for the evening to monitor my contractions and the baby. I'm already dilated 1.5 cm. Doesn't sound like a lot, but I suppose it's a little early to get the ball rolling on this whole labor thing. At 1 AM our sweet nurse (also pregnant) came in and I still wasn't asleep (INSOMNIA + PAIN = no sleepy), so when she asked if I wanted the prescribed Ambien Phillip promptly answered "YES!" I took the sleeping pill and the medicine to stop the contractions and fell asleep for 4 hours. Now I can take a child's dose of Tylenol Cold and be out for 18 to 24 hours, so you can imagine what I felt like after 4 hours of sleep on big people medicine.
I know there was a nurse in the room this morning trying to get me to eat, the GI surgeon's partner and my OB were in the room whilst I was putting on a lovely show of "let me demonstrate how I can vomit this morning," and the nutritionist was coming in and out asking about food. Luckily after watching me get sick for a while, the nurse and the nutritionist backed off on the eating deal. The GI surgeon told me that he could do surgery but the incision would be the "old fashion" kind that would hug my rib cage and reach approximately 24 inches in length (NO THANK YOU) and there are obvious risks to the baby. My OB is sending my info. to maternal fetal medicine now for a high risk consult, monitoring little man via ultrasound, and testing me later today to see how likely it is that Emory will be here within 2 weeks. TWO WEEKS. I can't wait to meet him, but I need more than 2 weeks!
Apparently there were quite a few other things discussed, but I was completely unaware of them thanks to the medicine I wasn't able to sleep off. Fortunately, I have an AMAZING husband. He brought me home, put me to bed, got my prescriptions filled to make me not so nauseous and not so apt to contract, and went to work on very little sleep himself. I started remembering most of the day after 3 PM, so I apologize if I spoke to anyone prior to that. :-)
Here's where we ask for little prayers that Emory holds out a few more weeks and my gallstones chill a bit. We want him to be as healthy and happy as possible, and apparently that means lung function which has not yet reached 100%. We do know that if I am kicked into labor at 35 weeks by the universal forces working against my body the doctors are not going to do anything to stop it AND I will be gallbladder, therefore gallstone, free soon thereafter. Thank you to all of our family and friends for the love and support over the past few years! We can't wait to introduce Emory to everyone!!!
