The Legend of Lobo

As time passes and I stay pregnant, the baby gets a little older and readier for the world. We’re feeling deep gratitude for each of the ten days I’ve been hospitalized.

The baby’s scans show he’s still doing well. The perinatologists will calculate another size/weight estimate next week, and hopefully his development will continue to track on or slightly ahead of schedule. He completed 27 weeks yesterday, so we’re feeling very grateful for that. Next Saturday he’ll pass the 28-week mark and will graduate from the “extreme prematurity” range. We’ll be so relieved if we get that far.

Bed rest has helped my kidneys start working again, and the nurses praise me for peeing a lot (hospital life is kind of surreal). My blood pressure is being managed, and so far there’s been no increase in the medication. That’s expected to change soon, but the slower the better, as it will buy more time for the baby.

It looks like I’ll be here a while. The day I was admitted Dr. Reiss said, “You won’t be leaving until you’ve held your baby in your arms.” I was hoping there’d be a chance I might be released on home bed rest, but that’s looking less likely. There’s just too much monitoring—my vital signs are checked every four hours, and I’m sent to the perinatologists for at least two tests a day, often three. A nurse slipped yesterday and referred to me in ante-partum lingo as a “captive.” Ha! That’s pretty much how it feels, but it’s hard to complain when the baby and I are getting such good care.

Thanks to my kind nurse, Michelle Melville, I’ve been moved to a bright corner room with huge windows. I think my friends all assume I’m restless and bored, twiddling my thumbs and eating bon bons. But actually I’m completely occupied, stressed out and frequently overwhelmed. When I first arrived I was too sick and exhausted to even imagine being out of bed. The constant medical bustle leaves no time for sustained reading, so magazine articles and email get me through the rare private moments. There’s a cot in my room and Ash stays overnight when he can. Friday night he brought homemade red beans and rice for dinner—such a treat! When I’m not sleeping or being tested, we watch bits of movies and talk politics, especially health care reform.

I’m very aware how fortunate I am to have decent insurance and to live near high quality medical centers. I can’t imagine going through this without basic financial resources and emotional support from family and friends.

In this photo is a lovely bouquet sent by my UUA friends.  I want to send warm thanks to everyone who has sent emails, books, flowers, and cards. Your love and support are sustaining us.

Here is the view from my new window…

Last Wednesday I had a regular pre-natal appointment at which all seemed well. I was concerned about some recent swelling and I felt my systolic blood pressure reading of 130 was high, given how low it always has been my whole life. But my doctor assured me all was within the normal range for someone my age and six months pregnant. About twelve hours later I was in the Salem Hospital emergency room with a blood pressure reading nearly 50 points higher.

Ash had taken me in to get what I thought would be quick treatment for an annoying ear blockage, but when the elevated pressure reading didn’t come down after an hour or so, the ER doctors sent me by wheelchair to the labor and delivery wing, where an obstetrician from my practice was on call. I knew he was thinking I had preeclampsia. For the next few hours he monitored me and finally said, “I have a bad feeling about this. I’m sending you downtown.” Within minutes of that decision I was hooked up to an IV and given magnesium sulfate to prevent seizure plus a steroid shot to prepare the baby’s lungs for an immediate emergency delivery. We were sent by ambulance to Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston.

At BWH Ash and I were oriented by several teams of obstetric and pediatric specialists. They explained why an immediate delivery might be necessary and what it would mean for a 25-week old baby. They started me on blood pressure medication and began lab work to test several other functions. The baby was on a continuous monitor and seemed to be doing fine, thankfully. There’s no sign of premature labor or any other problem with the conditions inside the womb. Instead, the doctors’ fear was that the fast-moving preeclampsia would cause a crisis for me, forcing a delivery to save both of us. The doctors emphasized that if we could get past the first 48 hours and make it to Saturday afternoon, the steroid shots would have a chance to help the baby’s immature lungs prepare for the hard work of breathing after birth.

Well, it’s Sunday night as I’m writing this, and things are looking much brighter. I’m now out of labor and delivery and settled into a room in the ante-natal unit at BWH where women with high-risk pregnancies are monitored, including those of us with severe preeclampsia. The drama decreased quite a bit after I responded to blood pressure medicine and received several good endocrine reports from the lab. The baby and I are still being closely watched but as of today no one is talking to us about an immanent delivery. Instead, I’m on bed-rest and the hospital staff is working to keep me stable to allow the baby as many days inside as possible. He passed the 26-week mark yesterday and his biophysical profile shows him to be a week more developed even than that. According to the ultrasound analyses he’s strong, active, and vigorous. The conditions affecting me had not progressed long enough to damage the placenta or disrupt the baby’s environment, and all is well there. Ash and I are now looking ahead to the 28-week mark, after which the survival and long-term health outcomes for premature babies are quite good.

I’ll be in the hospital indefinitely, possibly until the time I deliver. There’s no way to know when that will be, although the supervising doctor yesterday said that 34 weeks is the longest I’ll be allowed to remain pregnant (that’s 8 weeks from now). If my condition worsens the baby could be delivered by induction or emergency c-section anytime between now and then.

Ash and I are taking things one day at a time and feeling deep gratitude for each square we cross off on the calendar. We’re in the best obstetrics unit in the nation, just down the street from a world-class children’s hospital, and we’re getting excellent around-the-clock care. The baby is doing very well and shows every sign of being able to survive and thrive, even now. We’d like to wait a bit longer before we meet him, though, so we’re going to do as much as we can to delay his arrival.

We’re shaken by this turn of events, and certainly concerned, but we’re also in generally good spirits and deeply thankful for the care and support we’ve received.  And we’re grateful to our friends and families for their love, prayers, and good wishes. We look forward to sharing brighter news in the days ahead.