A Recap of the First Four Weeks...

I've been here for four weeks and two days (not that I'm counting), and I have managed to keep my sanity in check (well partially, depending on who you ask!)  But honestly, it's been okay.  Don't get me wrong, it's been more boring than hell and I would never wish this experience upon anyone, nor would I like to go through it again, but I think I have coped fairly well to date.  So I say "I'm okay". 

As I wrote in my previous post, I wish I would have taken notes from day one so I would be able to recap the events (few and far between) that have occurred over the past month.  Alas, I did not, so I have to trust my memory, which is not the sharpest tool these days, and recall the oh-so-exciting times I've had so far...

I checked in on Monday, December 19, at exactly 25 weeks gestation.  Josh and I walked up to the counter and someone in scrubs was sitting behind the counter that didn't even look up.  Awesome.  We stood there for a good 30 seconds staring at this little young weaselly nerd with his nose buried in a book before I finally had to walk away because I thought I was going to hop the counter and smack him upside the head.  What a nice welcome that was.  Off to a good start.  I muttered "Well isn't that just great" as we walked away to find someone more approachable.  Josh kept his cool, he does that.

We walked around the corner to Labour and Delivery and I approached what looked like a pleasant grandma-like nurse (turns out she's not so pleasant, she's rather abrupt and I haven't quite warmed up to her yet) who took us back to where the weasel was sitting.  I stared and stared at him waiting for him to look up, but he just walked away with no eye contact.  The nerve!  Granny got me all settled in my room.  Fortunatley I got a private room (shared bathroom) at the very end of the hall.  Did they know it was me coming?  A pretty decent fit I thought; no passerbys and farily quiet (I have yet to wear my custom made earplugs. Those will probably come in handy once I get moved to the Motherbabe ward after delivery, with the constant call bells to help with breastfeeding and screaming babies). 

My room looked, well, like a cold hospital room.  That's when it sunk it.  I'm here. For a very long time.  Someone shoot me now.  But, after some decorating, I felt a little less miserable and the room was a little less cold.  It took a few days before I realized that there was no point in being miserable and crabby because it's not going to change a thing, so I might as well smile and think positive and remember that this isn't about me, it's about the two beautiful babies we've created.  I was determined, (who wouldn't be) to carry these babies the best way I could for as long as I could.

My humble abode

The days started to go by so slow partly due to the fact that my doctor didn't order anything regarding my activity level before he left on holidays so I was put on bed rest.  When I was told I was on bed rest with bathroom privileges, I wanted to scream!  You've got to be kidding me.  Bed rest?  For what?  I'm not unwell in any way, shape or form.  Every other patient in Anti Partum is pretty much on bed rest for legitimate reasons; high blood pressure, bleeds, pre eclampsia, placenta previa, the list goes on, but I'm fine.  My babies just happen to be in a more hostile environment and no studies have shown that bed rest is what's best for mono mono situations.  Moving doesn't result in cord entanglement.  Cord entanglement is inevitable and it happens from the get go.  The only thing that bed rest would do is drive my stress levels through the roof, increasing my cortisol levels, which transfers to my babies, making things worse.  Of course, no one listened to me when I tried to explain that if I was kept on bed rest, my anxiety would take over. 

The battle was lost (for now) and so bed rest it was for the first five days.  Finally I saw a flicker of light when an obstetrician (after I begged and pleaded that I needed to at least get some fresh air) amended my order by allowing me go outside twice a day for 20 minutes, being that I was in a wheelchair.  Wow.  But at least it was something, and I would take it for now.  Thankfully another obstetrician overrode that order by allowing me to go outside for a walk, no wheelchair needed.  That was a good day.  I could hold onto that until my doctor got back from holidays to override the others.  Out I went, walking, around the hospital, two, three times. Silliness. And who do I have to thank but the weasel behind the counter who turned out to be one of the residents.  He hunted down a doctor that would increase my activity level.  He, in his own way, apologized for not noticing me on day one.  Weaselly nerd forgiven. 

 

Christmas came and my parents were trying to organize how to bring me turkey dinner.  Fortunately, I got a pass from a lovely obstetrician to go to my parents home for a couple hours to enjoy dinner and open gifts!  It's the little things that make me smile....and did that ever make me happy!  Christmas went from this:

To this:

I met many nurses, and I still meet many more to this day.  There are over 70 nurses in Labour and Delivery and Anti Partum alone so you never really get to form much of a relationship with any of them.  I guess that's not always a bad thing, because some of the nurses are real hags, that I would prefer not to speak to, but sometimes it would be nice to be able to talk to someone nice, especially during monitoring times when all we do is stare at the monitor for 45 minutes because that's the only existing buffer between the two of us.

 

I was told by my doctor that my routine would be as follows: twice daily non-stress tests at 45 minutes to an hour each, plus oscillations throughout the day. 

Non-Stress Test Monitor

A Sample NST Strip

I was okay with the doctors plan for monitoring, however, none of the nurses seemed to 'understand' or chose to understand why I was being monitored more than once per day and more than the regular 20 minute NSTs.  I remember the day when a nurse asked me why they were monitoring for 45 minutes and there was no point right now anyways because they weren't cooperating.  It took a lot for me to bite my tongue at that moment...but I had to, knowing that if I was a bitch to them, they would make my stay here unpleasant, so I had to take the high road and simply replied with 'because they are mono mono and that's what the doctor ordered'.  I haven't seen her since and I'm happy about that. 

While I'm the subject of complaining about the nurses, there were multiple times when it was voiced that it's ridiculous that my babies are being monitored so young; that they don't stay put because they're so small, and they usually don't do this until they are at least 28 weeks.  And 'the doctor really drives us crazy, we love him but he just drives us nuts with this. It's easy for him to order these tests because he's probably never actually had to sit here for 45 minutes fighting to keep them on the monitor.'  Really?!? I replied with 'I understand that this must be frustrating for you as it's very frustrating for me too, however I really appreciate you taking the time to monitor them'.  I should have added that I'm sure my babies will thank them for all the agressive monitoring once they come out alive.  This particular nurse was growing on me until the above came out of her mouth and since then I couldn't care less if I ever saw her again.  I definitely don't want her in the delivery room but unfortunately I don't have the option to pick and choose.  Don't get me wrong, while there are a few nurses who drive me up the wall and all I want to do is tell them to do their job, there are many, many nurses who are great and I have a couple that are my favourite. 

Other than different nurses every day, it seems there are different doctors on every day as well.  There are residents, obstetricians, and a GP who come in and check up on me every morning with the same questions (I won't mention them as that's just too much information). I tell them everything is great (because it really is) and I have no complaints (because I really don't).  I'm the boring patient at the end of the hall.  Boring is good around here. 

The neonatologist came and saw us when I was about 26 weeks along.  She explained to us what to expect if the girls were delivered tomorrow.  Some pretty harsh information but I was confident that we would at least make it to the 28 week milestone.  I asked her how many cases of mono mono she has seen in her career.  She told us that she can't remember the last time she saw them.  She is new here and was in Edmonton for three years prior to VGH and not once there, in Newfoundland for seven years before that, and never there, so probably more than 10 years ago when she was back in South Africa.  Crazy.  I asked our perinatologist the same question and he said maybe 10 to 15 cases in his 30 year career.  We're special. 

I came across some information on another blog a few weeks ago.  Did you know it costs roughly $6,000.00 per day to keep one baby in the NICU? One baby.  The writer of that blog is also a mother of twins and her twin boys were in the NICU for five months.  That's $2,000,000.00 in nearly free health care. I think we have it pretty good and we are so fortunate enough to have the care we do.  A momo mom I have been talking to in the States had over $1,000,000.00 in hospital bills before her babies were safely at home.  I couldn't imagine.  I will never complain about the health care in this province again.  All the whining I have done in the past was based on pure ignorance and I take it back.  Way to come through B.C.

I'm so fortunate to have my parents down here to help me out, get me out, and bring me things when Josh isn't able to be by my side. My mom has saved me with her food and with my sanity. We go out for daily walks and sometimes take off for an hour or so to Starbucks or just a drive for a change of scenery.  I don't know what I would do if I was sent to Vancouver where I have no one.  So I'm fortunate and happy to have what I do because it definitely could be much worse. 

Another day under my belt, errr, belly.  Day by day the girls are growing and doing wonderfully.  Our fighters.