Free at last, free at last!! It’s been a LONG week spent bruising my tail bone and channel surfing through the weirdest cable line-up known to man. Until noon today I was stuck in my local anti-partum ward, cursing room service and blowing IVs left and right.

Tuesday morning I started bleeding some and by late morning it was enough to scare me. My OB sent me straight to the hospital. They did an ultrasound to check out Baby Boy (affectionately dubbed Bubba by one of my sweep staking friends). Once everyone saw that there were no problems with the baby or the placenta, they checked me and realized I had dilated to 1 and had effaced to over 50%. They still weren’t sure where the bleeding was coming from. That plus the contractions were reason enough to admit me.

The 1st attempt at an IV blew the valve in the back of my right hand, turning it a lovely shade of purple-black. They then moved up to the crook of my right arm. Eventually the IV catheter must have gotten twisted in my vein as my IV was no longer running. They pulled that one out and inserted one into my left wrist. Then they flooded me with fluids to try and slow / stop the contractions or maybe just to point and laugh every time I had to waddle from my triage room to the shared bathroom. It was during one of those trips that my sheet got caught on a supply cart and my ass emerged in a full moon of the nurses station. Thankfully I only had to endure a few more blushing trips past the nurses station before they secured me a private room and bath.

By the time I got into my room I was seething over my treatment down stairs. Without my consent, they gave me a shot of terbutaline to stop the contractions.. Terbutaline and I are NOT friends and I had decided that there was no way I was going to accept it or magnesium sulfate to stop things. Baby boy is about 5 lbs, Ive had the steroid shots and I was at a hospital with an excellent NICU, there was no reason to endanger MY health (and in turn endanger HIS health) with a medication that has proven to be problematic for me in the past.

While I was sobbing on the phone to The Hubster a nurse appeared with a shot, one that I assumed to be my heparin. The doctor had made ZERO mention of terbutaline. As a matter of fact, I had told him not even 10 minutes before that I had turned down a terbultaline pump that the high risk OB wanted to give me.

Moments later I started shaking uncontrollably and the nurse returned with the one medication I had agreed too - Visteral.

“Um, what was in that shot?”

“Terbutaline”

“Oh god no! (shake twitch shake) I did not WANT terbutaline, no one told me they intended to GIVE me terbutaline. I thought you were giving me my Heparin!!”

Nurse looks at the monitor “Well it worked didn’t it?”

I was seeing RED and vibrating. My eyes were twitching and I shrieked “NO ONE is to give me anymore terbutaline nor will I accept mag sulfate.”

10 minutes later I was still in full spaz mode and my contractions reappeared spaced 3 minutes apart, despite the evil terbutaline.

On Wednesday evening, my 3rd IV infiltrated my vein. All the fluids were pouring into my body tissue and I started to swell severely. My left hand bloated and even my eyelids became squishy. Out came the IV and they once again stuck my right arm, this time also on my wrist. Luckily this was only a hep-lock in case I needed medication or fluids but considering how swollen I was they backed off mainlining me bag after bag of saline.

Later that same night the baby’s heart rate began dipping with each contraction, leading them to cancel my walking papers for Thursday. Thursday afternoon the dips continued and I was in pain with every contraction. Bubba apparently found a very cozy nook. With each contraction he was nailing one of my nerves sending pain up through my abdomen, in the process he was also compressing his own cord! By Thursday night I had convinced him to take up residence elsewhere and the heart dips petered off, though the contractions still raged on.

At the time I my release I was still dilated to 1 but now 70-80% effaced. I hope not to see the inside of the place again until it is really go time. This coming Monday I will be 34 weeks and though that is early, the hospital no longer is frantic to stop labor. I’m going to spend the weekend with my legs crossed and come Monday, go on with my life. When he is ready, he will come and I will be someplace where they are equipped to deal with any issues that may arise from him putting in an early appearance.