Surprise!

This morning my nurse woke me up an hour early and announced that the high risk doctor was here ready to do my weekly sonogram. I knew that was going to happen and was totally prepared (in other words, filled with dread)... except it was supposed to be Thursday. Since it's not like I really have any choice, I climbed in the wheelchair and let her push me down the hall, but I was totally freaking out at this sudden turn of events.

See, most pregnant women think sonograms are great. Those are the people that don't consistently get bad news. It IS fun to see the baby, but particularly right now, the stress of wondering what they might find crowds out that little bit of fun. So by the time she'd gotten me set up on the table I was shaking uncontrollably. I was by myself with a woman I'd just met this morning and a doctor I've seen for less than twenty minutes, and I was about to find out if anything had changed. I was terrified.

As it turns out, the news was good! The doctor did another check of Tate's heart since that stinker refuses to behave during his daily monitoring (he prefers kicking the monitors then moving out of the way), and everything still looked great. Most importantly I was unchanged... which is HUGE since the change the week before had been significant. For now it appears that what we're doing is successful, and everyone is hopeful that we're going to get another week.

Today has been fabulous, and after five long, hard days I really needed this one. Several people have commented on my positive attitude, and I'll admit, even I'm pretty surprised at how well I've been able to focus on the good. It's not my natural response, and after yesterday I was worn down from the complete helplessness and lack of answers. I needed something hopeful to hold on to, and although a surprise sono wasn't my idea of a good way to start the day, God had a better plan. He gave me just what I needed.

Tomorrow will be 26 weeks! 15 more days to our first milestone, and for the first time I'm actually hopeful we'll get there...

The secret is out!

Until this week it wasn't that hard to keep our baby's name secret. People would ask, but aside from a couple of very persistent relatives, everyone was accepting of our plan. A few people even turned it into a game, and I have to admit, it was highly entertaining to hear all the guesses. No one ever even got close.

However, one of the first things I learned about being in the hospital is that everyone wants to know your baby's name. I'd assume it's because it makes the conversations more personal. It definitely has for me. It's one thing to hear someone talk about threats to the baby or the fetus. It's another altogether to hear them talk about my Tate.

Our baby boy's name will be Noah Thomas, but we're going to call him Tate. I know it's a bit of a stretch as a nickname, but you know what? No one's going to criticize my choice of name at this point! I've always loved the name Noah, and Thomas came from the name of a dear friend. But for some reason Tate just fits better. For awhile I wasn't sure, but the more I get to know this child, the more certain I am that we've chosen correctly. His name will be absolutely perfect.

It's time to stop typing and let them hook up all the monitors, but now the secret is out. I'll definitely be writing more later... this morning has totally rocked. :)

Adapting to my New "Normal"

Day five is almost over.

Just saying that is a little surreal. I should have spent today getting ready to go back to work, but instead I'm almost a week into an indefinite hospital stay with no idea what's going to happen next. The weirdest part is that this already feels normal.

My hospital room is becoming vaguely homey, and I'm settling into a routine. The course of the day is all determined by the time I spend hooked up to fetal monitors as soon as I wake up. If baby is behaving, I'm free to start my day. If there's any sign of a problem, I stay on the monitors until things settle down. Those first 30 minutes are the most stressful of all, but once the doctor gives the all clear the weight is lifted... at least most days, at least for awhile.

Today the anxiety never totally left. While this has become familiar and far less scary than the first miserable 24 hours, it's just starting to sink in that "no bad news" is about as good as it's going to get. I think I want someone to sound hopeful that five days in everything is still going well, but the reality is that things could change at any moment, without any notice. I have to find hope in getting no bad news, and today that didn't feel like enough.

But, at least for now, we're one day closer to the ultimate goal and only one day away from 26 weeks, and although I'm not feeling quite as peppy, I'm thankful that tomorrow I get to do this all again.

Who would have thought...

This week I have much to be thankful for.

If you'd talked to me before Thursday, I'd have said something very different. For a number of reasons I won't go into, summer had been hard, and although it sounds really callous and insensitive, I was sick of being pregnant. I know that there are tons of people who would have given anything to be in my position. I was one of them for years, but from the other side, pregnancy has been one of the hardest experiences of my life. I've been sick for months, and even before things went bad, I constantly worried about my baby. Not exactly fun.

So I wasn't feeling so thankful. I was actually a little bitter, but by Friday afternoon that had all changed. It seems counter-intuitive that as my life was falling apart I started feeling LESS bitter, but that's how it's worked out. Maybe it's because there's so much that's bad and scary that I'm now overjoyed at every bit of positive news, but I think the change mostly came when I realized how much worse the situation could be.

The thing is, I had NO obvious symptoms of preterm labor. It's not like I went into the doctor with complaints that would lead to this diagnosis. I felt totally fine, and if she hadn't wanted to double check a totally separate issue, no one would have ever known anything was wrong. I would have gone on doing all my normal stuff, including going back to work with a new set of kindergartners... right up until it was too late. Luckily, that's not what happened.

And because of that one decision, we have an almost endless list of things to be thankful for. As of now, the medications I'm on are keeping things totally under control (as far as we can tell). We've been able to postpone delivery long enough to allow the steroids to take effect which gives our baby boy a huge advantage if he is born this week. I'm safe and sound and watched over by some fabulous doctors who will be able to immediately intervene if something else does go wrong. When I think of what could have been... going into labor way too early while at school or even out of town, far from help, having no clue what was happening or why... this is SO much better than that!

Now for some specifics prayer requests...

1. Statistics say there's a 50/50 chance this baby will be here before August 18, but there's no way to predict which 50% I'll be in... which is hard to accept. Pray that I can let go of the statistics and focus on the fact that as of now all is fine, and my baby is staying put!

2. Pray that the medications I'm on to prevent contractions will continue to work with no further dose increases. Keeping this under control seems to be the biggest focus for now.

3. Pray that we make it to August 24 when Baby B will be 28 weeks. Obviously longer is better, but even just 28 weeks would be HUGE!

I'm off to continue my very busy schedule of laying in bed and watching TV... you know you're jealous. :)

So it's not as bad as I thought...

A week ago I went to the doctor for my routine 24 week checkup. As far as I could tell all was well, so it should have been no big deal. In fact, as I was walking out the door I quickly grabbed a dollar for the parking garage. Just one because there was no way I'd be there more than an hour. Little did I know how wrong I was...

By the end of that appointment, for me, everything had changed. My doctor didn't give me any official restrictions, but even through her typical calm demeanor I could see she was clearly concerned. That was only reinforced when she scheduled a follow up for yesterday rather than the end of the month. What little confidence I'd mustered that things would turn out ok was gone, and despite the fact that pretty much everyone around me thought I was overreacting and the next appointment would be fine, I knew there was no going back. Every time I moved I was scared something would go wrong, and I knew that fear wouldn't diminish no matter what the outcome of the next appointment. Selfishly, my absolute worst fear was ending up on hospital bed rest away from Maggie for as long as 15 weeks. I was sure I couldn't bear it.

Unfortunately, my fears were less off base than usual.

So here I am, laying in bed, and it's not as bad as I thought. Don't get me wrong, it's not fun, but it's completely bearable... the being in bed part that is. The missing Maggie part is wretched. On the upside, I'm learning a lot. Apparently I'm the exception to the rule in that I'm horribly concerned about possible outcomes for my baby and terrified to get out of bed. The neonatologist came in this afternoon to fill me in on what life's going to look like if this little one insists on coming out this week, and the first thing she said is that she's usually called up here to chastise non-compliant mothers who are sure that everything will be fine rather than to calm down an overly anxious one. I'm pretty sure I actually laughed out loud because my immediate thought was, "Who on earth are THOSE people?" Even now, hours later, I find it completely absurd that there are women who could be told their babies might be born at 25 weeks and be anything less than horrified, but she promised they exist.

Nonetheless, meeting the super awesome baby doc was the highlight of my week. Yes, it would be bad if he's born now, but it's not as dire as I originally thought. And there's a good chance we'll make it at least another week or two. If we make it to August 24, there's a 91% chance that IN THE LONG RUN, he would have no major complications. Yes, his life would start with an extended stay in the NICU, but there's a really good chance that eventually he'd completely catch up. She also said that when it comes to developmental delays, our impact as parents will be greater than any impact she can have as a doctor. Looks like all those years working with my little ones are going to pay off!

So today I'm hopeful. It's one more day towards 26 weeks, and although the odds aren't good, each day without further progression is a good sign. Hopefully we'll be counting for a long while.

And just for you Suz... the three things I'm thankful for today:

1. When I blindly chose a doctor long before I was pregnant, God guided me to someone who I adore, and she was able to admit me to the hospital rather than the obnoxious high risk guy... meaning I get to see her daily rather than him.

2. She just so happens to be at the only hospital in the area that will be able to care for both me and our baby, regardless of what rare or obscure complications he has. Many women in my situation would have their baby whisked away to another hospital immediately after birth. I won't have to worry about that.

3. I've gotten so many texts and emails of encouragement that I'm having a hard time keeping up. I've felt very alone recently, but today I feel immensely loved.

Until tomorrow...

Day 1

Today's the day after everything changed. I'm sitting here in a hospital room watching my wife go through the hardest thing she has ever gone through. She has hardly slept in the past 30 hours. Emotions range from scared to lonely to angry to content. Our baby is 25 weeks and 2 days old. He is healthy in every way for a baby that young. He's spunky. He likes to kick the monitors. He likes to hide when they try to take his picture, just like me. There are no problems except that the biology of the current situation says that he might be introduced into this world earlier than would be ideal.

We don't know what the next days, weeks, months, even years will hold. We are standing at the front end of something that we don't know how to handle. We've got to figure out what the new normal will be. It will changed daily.

People have been amazing so far. Our family has been ready to drop anything they have going, drive for hours, and come help with anything at a moment's notice. Friends and coworkers have been ready with a kind word and offers to help in any way possible. Yesterday, completely out of the blue a dear friend of Adrian's was able to make it over here to comfort and bring a smile to Adrian's face as she was adjusting to the news and her room and her bed and the situation. I don't think that God could have put a better person in this room with her yesterday.

She left an assignment on the dry erase board here in the room. Adrian needs to list 3 things she is thankful for....every day. There are big, overarching things that we can be and are thankful for, but I want to keep track of some of the small ones.

Here's my 3 things for today:

1. Suzanne was able to come to bring the kind of encouragement A needed yesterday afternoon, and keep her company when I ran home to grab some of Adrian's things.

2. The night nurse was amazing. She comforted my scared and lonely wife while I was at home getting some rest and checking on the dog.

3. Speaking of that dog, she was perfect yesterday. A loves Maggie so much. A was so worried about her being inside alone for so long. Seeing her sitting on the couch waiting patiently for us to get home made me smile after a long, hard day.

I'm starting this to get updates out to friends and family and keep everyone in the loop. I'll be posting whenever we have news. We really appreciate everything that everyone has and will be doing. We feel very loved in this hard time. Please keep us in your prayers.