The Long Version

Alrighty. I'm on day 3 here at the hospital. I've had so many people ask me what's going on, so I thought I'd just go ahead and blog the long version!

At my 20 week appointment, the ultrasound showed my placenta resting down low on top of my cervix (the "exit door" for the baby). The placenta is the food supply to the baby, and it is supposed to attach high up on the side of the uterus, well out of the way. At that point, there was still an 80% chance that the placenta would shift up the side of the uterus and all would be fine. The doc told me to take it easy, no "shenanigans", but I could live life almost normally. Really, I wasn't concerned at all. I was scheduled for an ultrasound next week to check up on the placenta's position, and all seemed fine.

On Sunday morning I woke up with blood on the sheets. Shoot. Walked over to the bathroom and "whoosh," and big gush of blood. Shoot. I called the doc and was instructed to come into the hospital. I didn't have any pain or any other "bad" signs. Just blood. When I arrived at the hospital, there was a nurse waiting to take me to the evaluation room. They went through 100 pages of hospital registration paperwork, hooked me up to 3 different machines (including an IV, blah!), and had the on-call doctor come examine me. She gave me the news, which, frankly, came as kind of a shock: I would be here at the hospital a minimum of three days, with the possibility of three months.

What the heck? Why is this happening? Isn't placenta previa pretty common? Why can't I just go home and take it easy?? The questions just keep rushing through my head.

This is why I have to stay here at the hospital -- the placenta is bleeding. It is the baby's lifeline. It is inside my uterus, and it is blocking the cervix. The baby is resting on top of the placenta, creating too much pressure. Every time my uterus contracts, the bulk of the strain is concentrated around my cervix, agitating the placenta. Every time I contract, I bleed a little more. If the placenta becomes too irritated  (which could happen in my sleep, or for no reason at all!), it could hemorrhage and I (and possibly the baby) would die. DIE. This is serious business.

Since I am only 27 weeks along, the baby is extremely premature. If I were to bleed uncontrollably, the doctor would be forced to deliver the baby (c-section, of course). BAD news. The past few days I have been receiving steroid injections to help develop the baby's lungs -- so, in case of an emergency, he'd be able to breathe with significant medical help. If he were born today, he would have a good chance of survival, but he would spend months in the NICU. The primary goal right now is to keep the baby inside as long as possible. Every week that passes provides an exponentially better situation for this little one. Even one more week would benefit the baby extremely as far as lung development is concerned.

So, here I am. In a hospital bed. Day three. I graduated from bedpans to the actual bathroom today. Lucky me! However, I'm still not allowed to shower. I smell like Taco Bell. I've had an outpouring of love and support in the form of phone calls and messages -- for which I am very grateful. Steve is in town this week, which is a HUGE blessing. My sister, Sammy, is here helping with Danny this week. My other sister, Amanda, brought me a delicious dinner and cute visitors last night. I've had so many wonderful friends offer to take care of Danny (which will be wonderful!!!). I'm overwhelmed with love, and very grateful.

No matter how blessed I feel, I can't help but feel a little "down." Being stuck in a bed ALL day is hard. Being away from my home and family is hard. Knowing I can't get up for possibly 2-3 months is  hard. My back hurts. My fetal and uterus monitors are uncomfortable. I can't sleep. Daytime TV is terrible. All I want to do is hold my little Danny boy and take him for a walk to see the horses (it's his favorite activity.) My history of depression is not too promising in this situation, either. There is a very real concern that I could nosedive into a depression (which would not be a pleasant situation, trust me!).

Even with all these bummers, I am still very, VERY grateful for my situation: I have excellent support, excellent health care, wonderful nurses, a healthy baby, and so many tender mercies have already been experienced. I'm grateful to be healthy, I'm grateful for a strong baby, I'm grateful that Steve can work from the hospital during the day to keep me company, I'm grateful that Danny has so many people who love him taking care of him. The list goes on. Here is to hoping the next weeks and months pass quickly, and that this little one is safe and can grow stronger with each passing day!