Saturday, November 27, 2010

After Surgery

Life was fairly quiet for 2 weeks. I was on modified home bed rest and took it easy. I finally started to feel little baby kicks-which most people describe as flutters, but I honestly had no idea what that would mean. It felt similar to what I imagine popcorn popping feels like...or little bubbles popping. But it was cool.

When I was 22 weeks and 1 day I noticed an issue. (TMI warning). I felt as if I had sprung a leak...a decent sized one. Knowing that wasn't normal for me I called my peri- who had me come in for a sonogram. I was scared to death, because I just knew my water had ruptured-a common side effect of the surgery.

My Dr. performed the sonogram and assured me that the fluid around the boys was fine. Then she noticed the rather large amount of liquid on the paper. A quick exam and suddenly she was telling me I was being admitted for the duration.

My mind was seriously running ten million miles a minute. I called Randy so he could meet me at the hospital and I waited in a panic as a technician wheeled me to what would be my new 'home.' Everyone looked at me with was horrible. I knew that my water breaking was not a good sign. Knew that at 22 weeks there was no chance for viability. All I wanted to do was sob and yet I couldn't, for fear of making things worse.

I don't remember who gave us the grim prognosis first. An on call doctor, my doctor..doesn't matter really, they all said the same thing. Of women that rupture, 75% of them deliver within 72 hours. Of the women who make it through 72 hours, 95% deliver in a week. Even at 23 weeks, there is little chance of viability. At 24 weeks, there was a 10% chance the boys would survive if delivered. At 28 weeks, that chance went up significantly to 90%..and every week after that, even better.

What do you do with odds like that? Basically 1 woman in a 100 doesn't deliver in that situation. My luck was generally not that good. Randy and I were facing the very real chance that we would not have our babies safely. For the first 72 hours, I was hooked up to an iv, not allowed out of bed for any reason (no, not even that), and had fetal monitoring several times a day. I was monitored for contractions..and if I had more than few in a 20-30 minute period was given a shot of terbutaline. If the terbutaline worked, it generally meant I was not in labor.

The only thing I could do was lay there, drink lots of water (the more fluid I had, the more they had, and I needed to keep fluid around them), and pray.

Goodness did I pray....

I am Lame

And haven't posted in months. Even more..I realize I haven't talked much about the crazy life of having 14 month old twin boys. The joys and pains of cutting molars, crawling and cruising...and the maddening certainty of knowing when one child is playing with a toy, his brother will suddenly appear and want to play with it. EVERY time.

It doesn't matter how many toys are out...each boy wants the toy his brother has. Painful for Mommy and Daddy.

Oh...and the word "no"? Yeah, they don't care. Ahhh the joys.

Will Continue with the pregnancy saga and do my best to talk more about the boys.