Speaking of the NICU, I finally did the tour. The NICU team and neonatologist had been in to speak with me a few times, but I’d been avoiding the actual tour. A few nights ago when my nurse stopped by to take me for my coveted daily wheelchair ride, she announced that we were going to stop in the NICU before going anywhere else. I’ve always been very eye-rolly (is that a word) when women talk about wanting to be induced (for non-medical reasons) or whined about how uncomfortable they are toward the end (hey, that’s part of being pregnant), but spending time in the NICU only confirms the belief I’ve always had, that babies are meant to be born at 39-40 weeks, and wishing for anything earlier is selfish, plain and simple, selfish. Okay, I’ll save that rant for another post.
Moving right along, we’re continuing to pass our Tuesday and Friday BPPs (Bio Physical Profiles) with perfectscores 8/8. On Friday, Baby B was estimated at 2lbs 10oz, 40th percentile. We also have twice daily 1-hour non-stress tests. Everything looks great. The monitor occasionally picks up a few contractions, but I’ve only felt one.
Most hospitals have rules regarding how often IVs have to be changed; the standard being every 72 hours. I’m not going to do the math, but I’ve had a lot of IVs during the past 17 days. I started with several, those were changed after 72 hours, then I was able to drop one, I’ve had one blow, a few that needed to be moved due to redness, etc. Between the almost daily blood draws and IVs, it’s getting harder and harder to start them and find good placement sites. On Thursday, the nurses started talking about a PICC line. On one hand, yeah, it makes total sense. On the other hand, ack. When the doctor on- call rounded yesterday, she decided to give me a break for the weekend. She said she’s not entirely comfortable with not having access (an IV), but we’ll wait until Tuesday and revisit the idea of a PICC. For now, I’m free….
That same doctor is probably the youngest, smallest, sweetest OB ever, and no, I don’t feel this way just because she offered to bring me a latte from Starbucks ;) She’s just very nice, and since I’m the most stable antepartum patient ever (at least that’s how I feel), we really don’t have much to chat about when she visits. So instead we talk about online shopping and the fact that I desperately need a haircut. My mom said she would ask her guy if he could make a house, err, hospital call, but if that doesn’t work out, Dr. Glorious said she could recommend someone. Sweet!
Did I mention that the fabulous nurse, M, who was with me when I delivered Kate, still works here? She’s been my nurse several times and it was so much fun to reminisce about Kate’s delivery. After Kate was born, M was the person who told me I was very polite, as I hadn’t screamed, called her names, used bad language, and always said please and thank you, and did it drug-free. A few nights ago, M was taking me for my wheelchair ride. She’d decided to take me to look at Christmas lights on the bridge on the backside of the hospital, used by the doctors to go back and forth between the clinic. L&D is a locked unit, and you have to be quick to get through the doors, or the alarm sounds. It seems that every time we pass through a door in the wheelchair, we set it off. M left me on the bridge, and stepped just inside the door to turn the alarm off. Of course, my high-risk OB came walking out of the other side, as I’m just sitting there in the wheelchair on the bridge. Many jokes about me trying to escape.
We finally have some snow. I’ve never been in the Midwest during the winter before, and was starting to question the rumors I’d heard about harsh winters and blizzards (not really.) Well, winter is officially here, and we have snow.
Last night, the nurses had a potluck to celebrate New Year’s Eve, and imagine my delight when this was delivered to me. What a nice break from hospital food.
Once again, they’ve surprised me with their kindness. I’m so lucky to be here.
Next goal, 30 weeks!