I’m writing this week as a little jog down memory lane for my girls to read one day. This week they will turn 5. Holy smokes. 5.
So we’ll start at the very beginning of our birth story:
Five years ago today, I went to my 35-week OB appointment and found that my blood pressure was elevated and my urine showed protein, so I was exhibiting signs of pre-eclampsia.
My doctor nearly salivated at the idea of being able to induce. It was a high risk pregnancy because I had an “irritable uterus” and since 34 weeks she’d been waiting for a reason to get the girls out. So she cheerfully sent me home to pack and get ready to be admitted. I was in some sort of denial because I asked her why I was being admitted. She laughed at me and said, “Um, Scroogy… You’re having a couple of babies…” haha.
Honestly, this part of the story is still just a blur. I was not thinking very clearly, still in some weird la-la-land and very distracted, so distracted that I suddenly had no clue what to do next. I called my Mom and my husband, and they left work to meet me at the apartment. I sat on my couch and waited for them. Just waited, twiddling my thumbs as if nothing big was going on.
Even though I’d known this day would come sooner rather than later, I was still so ill-prepared and just glossy-eyed. It was happening so fast, I was in a fog, detached.
Mom got there and asked if I’d packed a bag. Um… wha??? I clearly had not. All the baby clothes were still in big rubbermaid containers. We were in the process of buying a house, waiting on settlement, so all of our life was in disarray and boxes. So, while we chatted, I packed ONE set of pajamas and undergarments for me, ONE outfit for each of the babies, no toiletries, and for some reason, about a half dozen CDs. I even forgot to pack my Reglan, which was the only thing keeping me from throwing up from week 11 on. Morning sickness does not end in the second trimester, Peeps.
Hubby and my Mom drove me to the hospital, where the nurses and OB on call decided to keep testing my urine (giving me a catheter- ugh), and monitoring my BP. I hope to never have a catheter ever ever again. Owie. Speaking of owie… There was a burly midwife with gigantic hands that kept checking my cervix. I was only about 1 cm.
My blood pressure stabilized, but there was still protein in my pee, so, they decided to keep me for 24 hr urine analysis rather than jump the gun on induction. No contractions had started. They did a sonogram and the babies looked fine.
I was admitted, and sent Hubby and the soon-to-be-grandparents home in a snow and ice storm while I watched a lot of TV, and talked to my babies. I talked to them a lot.
So, here I was, in the hospital, all alone with nothing to do but think, and It still did not occur to me to ask my husband to bring more clothes or some toothpaste. Haha.
To be continued…