I’m actually not that concerned about spending my birthday in the hospital. All of the nurses and doctors have been so awesome, working with me instead of around me, chit-chatting, talking, listening to my concerns, sometimes staying up incredibly late with me to help me through my anxieties, that I really see the whole experience as something positive and unique. Basically, I get to spend my day with friends and family!
The only sucky part thus far has been the headache. Somewhere between the Terbutaline and the diabetes, I think, I developed this weird sinus reaction that has had me waking up with a headache that easily registers as a 5 on the pain scale, and then goes up if I move too fast (which isn’t really a worry when you’re on bed rest in a hospital). Still, to get rid of it, I have to take two Sudafeds AND two Tylenol-3s (with codeine), and at the same time, I get to take Terbutaline and then the Metformin with breakfast. That means that right AFTER breakfast, I get so shaky and my eyes so goo-goo that I have to lay down for a nap, just to spare myself the frustration of trying to do things like type, knit, or read. Blech.
As I’ve said many times, a little inconvenience and a few bouts of icky side effects are totally worth it if it means our lovely Daniel comes home safe and sound. And he will. I am fiercely determined.
There has been a trend, though, over the last couple of nights that could potentially lead to a trip to Denver if we’re not careful. He’s been having this bouts of extended acceleration where his heart rate goes up to the high 170s or 180s and stays there for over eight minutes or longer. This isn’t something that we really like to see, as it could mean that he’ll end up wearing himself out and causing some tissue damage, but at this point he’s not doing it often enough to warrant that trip south. Keep your fingers crossed for us, at the very least that if the decision is made before next Friday to send me south that they have time to do that FIRST instead of doing an emergency section here and just sending HIM south.
It also recently came to my attention that I was slightly misinformed about the occurrence of gestational diabetes in my family – there has never been a case, apparently, on either side, ever. So how the heck did I end up with it? WELL, Phyllis, my midwife, just got back from a medical conference in Hawaii (the poor thing), and she went to a lecture on fetal demise. It was mentioned during that lecture that the occurrence of gestational diabetes in subsequent pregnancies following fetal demise is disproportionately HIGHER then the general population, even in women who have no family history at all whatsoever.
This explains a lot (sort of) considering that I’ve been trying to figure out how the hell I caught a bullet that DIDN’T have my name on it… Of course, this is a relatively recent finding, so there’s no definitive data on why it happens, but I’ve had Joe bring me a couple of my own books to look into it energetically. Phyllis and I have a working theory for that side of things, and it may just lead to a better medical understanding. (We can hope.)
I think that knowing this is helping me cope with the diabetes in some ways. My blood sugar has been all over the place, and they’ve also started giving me Lantis in the morning – a long-acting insulin – as well as little insulin boosts throughout the day if I flunk my blood sugar tests. Yesterday, I only had one boost (instead of the two or three I’ve been getting), but I’m not sure if that’s because I’ve been trying to unravel the diabetes/FD question, or if it’s because I felt so sick to my stomach I hardly ate anything.
In other news, I’ve actually finished a few items in the knitting category. I made a model of Knucks for the kids that turned out a little small, which makes it a good thing that I only did a model. Now I know what the tolerances are for sizing. I also realized that I didn’t have any of the other little things that I’ve already knitted for Daniel, so I made him a hat yesterday. Today I’m working on matching socks to go with them. I’ve never made socks before, so this should be fun. It doesn’t look terribly complicated. Also on my list are some Knucks for Jenny (my night nurse) and maybe some other baby hats for mommas who don’t have a whole lot of support and love.
I’ve toyed with the idea of letting the nurses know that if laboring mommas want to come in and share stories or get some things off of their chests, they can come visit me. I’m not sure how that would work out, but I think sometimes I feel like I should be helping out since I’m here for so long. I’m here at least another week and a half.
That’s the current state of the union (now that my hands have stopped shaking enough to write it all out). As much as it seems like it would be horrible and traumatic to be stuck in the hospital for so long, I feel better being here than I would being home, simply because I know that if something went wrong, I’m already where I need to be to get it taken care of. And all the nurses and doctors and support staff know my story and what’s going on, and they have been the epitome of wonderful in helping me out with different snacks and different foods and keeping my company. I think Jenny even preemptively saved me from a serious scene last night by closing my curtain a little – I suspect that the male doctor voice I heard was Storey’s, and she knows how much rage I have against him. My room is nice and chilly, I have yarn and books and a computer, now I have Food Network in my room (my old room didn’t, for some reason), I’m on a networked monitor so that the nurses don’t have to come into my room every fifteen minutes during the night, and I get to see my family every few days.
I’m still looking forward to leaving with our bundle of joy, but the time between now and then is not so bad.