The Easy Job

Week 2 is off to a fabulous start. My current favorite nurse will be here for the entire weekend. When my doctor came in, she cheered because we're halfway through the most dangerous two weeks. I'm finally settling into enough of a routine that I'm sleeping through the night (at least until they wake me up for my meds), and I've spent the last 30 minutes or so watching Tate roll around in my belly which is pretty amazing to see. It's been a great Friday so far.

I'm starting to think that I've really got the good end of the deal in this whole situation. Yes, I'm the one stuck in bed, but I don't have a lot to worry about. Someone takes care of me every minute of every day. I don't have to deal with the pressure of providing for our family or trying to tie up all the loose ends that I unintentionally left behind. Don't worry... I'm not in denial. I fully grasp the implications of what's to come, but if the shoe were on the other foot and Kevin was the one laying in this bed... I don't think I could be the other person. That job sounds WAY harder!

My life has completely changed in the last eight days, but it's really turned out to be a pretty good change. Even though Tate's behaved well and stayed right where he's supposed to, I became a mommy late last Thursday. When I was admitted that morning I was still regular old selfish me. I'd heard other women talk about how much they loved their unborn children, but I felt nothing. It's hard to explain, but he just didn't feel real yet. So when I cried for hours straight, not one of those tears was for my child. I cried because of the pain and discomfort I was going through. I cried for the freedom I was losing. I cried because I was scared for myself, not for Tate. It was completely selfish. Then my doctor came in and explained the magnitude of what was happening and that she was seriously concerned that this baby would be here in a matter of days, and I finally understood what those other women were talking about.

What I do isn't fun, but it doesn't matter anymore. There's only one possible response. I follow the rules and deal with painful shots and uncomfortable exams because it's the only thing I can do to help keep my son safe. When I hear his little heart beating and watch him kicking inside my belly, it's easy to do the right thing, even if I know it means putting myself through something I'd rather not go through. He's real now. He's part of me. He's my Tate, and he matters more than my selfish comfort. I definitely got the easy job.

Only 12 more days until 28 weeks. We're almost halfway there! I can't believe how quickly the time is going...

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.