Olivia - Part 1

Just a bit of background...Hope you have the time.  I am a history teacher, that makes me a story teller.  This is a bit of a long one.

Our first 3 kids have been well planned - literally sitting down with a calendar, counting the weeks, figuring out where 27 weeks (presumed bedrest mark) would fall in relation to the school calendar and going from there.  Our first two were boys.  Jeff wanted a girl SO badly.  So badly in fact, he had himself convinced that our first was a girl.  In the delivery room FULL of staff, baby quacking (he was a 35 weeker) on my stomach - he looks over to me and says, "But honey, girls don't have penises." He had this surprised look on his face and was as serious as can be.  When we got Desiree - our 3rd 35 weeker - the doc, while really working to get my uterus to clamp down and quit bleeding, looked at me and said, "Okay, you guys are done now - you got your girl."  And after yet another horrible pregnancy, I was SO on board with that.

Flash forward fourteen months.  I went in for some ultrasounds that summer, pain - not fun.  Took care of what we needed to.  The summer goes on, pain goes away, but I feel like crap.  I am nauseous,  exhausted, my periods had been goofy for months, hence the earlier u/s.  It almost feels like I am...oh no!  , I buy a pregnancy test.  PREGNANT!  no, NO, NO!!!!!  I can't be.  I call my doc all in a panic.  She tries to calm me through the phone.  "Probably just a false positive - it happens, we just did an ultrasound, you are probably fine."  I get into the office that afternoon - TWINS!!!  Now, please realize that both Noah and Desiree started out as twins.  The only reason I know this is because I had an u/s as soon as I found out I was pregnant due to other complications.  Vanishing twin syndrome is VERY common.  Anyway, she checks, and rechecks.  Brings in the tech - I am 7 weeks pregnant.  How can this be?????  I just had an ultrasound THREE weeks ago - babies don't just APPEAR!!  AND I DID NOT PLAN THIS OUT!!  We rechecked the other u/s - no one can figure it out!  I sat there and cried.

Acceptance comes, I wanted another baby, but I did NOT want to be pregnant ever again.  But I was - okay.  Start planning, everyone at school is excited.  Then the week of Thanksgiving break is upon us.  I am 20 weeks along. Monday - the baby isn't really moving.  Go to school, the teachers talk me into drinking some juice - no go.  Time to get into the doctor.  After 3 hours of juice and fetal heart monitors we find her heartbeat and get it nice and strong.  My OB sends me home and tells me to stay home for the week.  It is a short week - no worries.  Tuesday comes, time for one of my twice weekly appointments - all is well.  Wednesday comes - I wake up in the morning, there is a little pink on the toilet paper.  Call Jeff in - he thinks it is not big deal.  Let's check back in a bit. The second trip to the bathroom brings the same results.  On the phone with the doc again.    She thinks it is probably nothing, inquires on our level of intimacy the nigh before and tells me to come in before her first appointment - 9:45am.

Jeff brings me in, we are chit chatting, doc tells me to get into he stirrups and bump down.  The next part I will never forget, "OH S@#T!"  followed by instructions to Jeff on getting me to the ER at St. Joe's across town -NOW!  An incompetent cervix.  The bag of waters was protruding.  I get into St. Joe's see one of the other perinatologists  (Mine was gone - of course!) and after an exam we get three options.  (In my best British accent)  A)  We can do nothing and let nature take its course - I will probably lose the baby within 2 days.  (NOT appealing)  B)  We can put you in the trendelenburg position for the remainder of your pregnancy. C) Put a cerclage in - a stitch to close up the cervix. Along with TOTAL bedrest.  Butt on pillows up in the air, kind of bedrest.  After a bit of guidance from the kindly old Brit, we decide on the cerclage - which guarantees nothing.  Jeff takes Desiree (who has been with us this whole time - at the age of 18 months) to a sitter and my surgery is scheduled.

Christmas Day 2007 comes - family drama - tale for another day, I leave the house.  FIRST mistake.  Long day.  Get home.  Jeff is doing something in the family room.  I fall asleep on the couch.  I get up to go to the bathroom around 11pm, and blood rushes down my leg.  Another "Oh S@#T" moment.  Get the kids out of bed, find a friend that will take them this late at night.  Get to the hospital.  After 24 hours in antepartum - they send me home - no clue what happened.  Repeat this again 2 weeks and 2 weeks after that.  The third trip, I had the kids overnight bag packed a week in advanced.  I got up with some spotting.  Called the doc - she sent us in, I planned to be home that day, like I always had.  Dropped the three stooges off at my dad's and off we go.  They knew me well at that point.  Same story - no idea, we'll probably just keep you for a bit and send you home.  The the contractions start and won't stop.  Out comes my old nemesis - MAG SULFATE!  Ugh, let's just say - it gives me hotflashes that would make any middle aged woman pity me and makes me sicker than anyone has been after their 21st.  We prepare the room - sweatshirts for everyone else, ice is brought in, a/c is turned on and we start the bolus.  I make it most of the way through and then I need a bucket.  I get so sick my water breaks.  I get blown off by my nurse, my doc comes in to check on me and I tell her my water broke.  The nurse butts in and tells her that I just wet myself and I am overreacting.  Doc asks for a strip to check - "OH S@#T" comes out of her mouth again.  Do a quick u/s to check on the baby - she is head down, but seeing as she is only 29 weeks, the lack of amniotic fluid has pushed her up.  She is now head down - on her cord.  Emergency C- section.