Ahh. Pregnancy. You and I have a difficult relationship. You are something I've wanted my whole life and yet you insist as making it as difficult and unpleasant as possible. Grrr.
So it my last post I mentioned I had experienced some contractions that gave me a little worry. Last Sunday I had a few contractions during the afternoon that left me feeling a little off. Late Monday night I felt that distinct constant pressure/tightening between my hips complemented by contractions every 10 minutes or so. It was late. I really didn't feel like calling the doctor at 1 am. I decided if I could somehow fall asleep then I wouldn't need to call the doctor. At my doctor's appointment on Wednesday I mentioned the contractions. Since this is my third baby, I know I am supposed to feel contractions earlier. But these contractions felt more like what I am used to feeling closer to 8.5 or 9 months, not the beginning of 6 months. My doctor did a fetal fibronectin test which detects the possibility of preterm labor in the next 1-2 weeks. He felt pretty sure that everything was fine, but just wanted to cover all the bases.
Fast forward to Friday. You know it's not good news when instead of the nurse leaving a message on your home answering machine, the doctor calls you on your cell phone after not reaching you at home. My doctor told me he had some bad news, that my fetal fibronectin test came back positive. He said his heart sunk when he saw the result and felt horrible delivering the news since he knew how stressed I've been about the possibility of losing the baby. My doctor basically said to not freak out, but that my threshold for calling needed to be lower than normal. In terms of gestational age, I am right at what is considered viability.
An hour and a half later I am driving home from Woodinville and trying to process the possibility of a preemie. Both kids had fallen asleep in the car so I had abandoned hopes of shopping. All of the sudden I started feeling funny and then the contractions started. Not cool. Even less cool was driving through the Friday afternoon commute while contracting. Luckily, Dave was on his way home. I got home and laid down and drank some water to see if things got better. When they didn't, I called and was directed to go to the hospital, leaving Dave to figure out last minute childcare.
I spent 5 hours at the hospital undergoing tests and waiting. The baby cooperated and the nurses noted that they normally aren't able to get such a good reading on a baby so young. I of course noted that my babies are all very advanced. The upside to having the hospital next door to your doctor's office is that it makes it really easy for them to come over. The tests all came back normal and the contractions stopped. I was directed to go home, take it easy, and check in with the doctor on Monday.
After a very boring weekend of laying on the couch, I saw the doctor today. The good news is everything seems okay and I don't have to be on bed rest. The bad news is I still am in the 2 week danger window. I am supposed to take it easy and call if it starts feeling like labor again.
At this point, I am left feeling a little neurotic trying to listen to my body and constantly second guessing myself. I haven't had any contractions for two days. Right now I am focused on getting to third trimester, July 2. I am trying to convince myself that I will go past my due date like I always have and this is just another minor hiccup. This hiccup will probably alter how the kids and I spend our summer vacation at least a little bit. . I feel a desperate need to nest and to get at least a little bit ready for the baby on the just in case.
This baby is very wanted and very loved, and apparently has a flair for the dramatic. A friend said she thought he would be a spitfire based on the behavior he has exhibited thus far and I am inclined to agree. As my post title suggests, anything worth having never comes easy and this recent experience is just a reminder of that.
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