Thursday, November 20, 2008

25 Weeks!

Wow! I have never before been 25 weeks pregnant! It amazes me to say that considering I have a beautiful two-year old. It really defies all sense of "normal" as was reflected in the perplexed look on another mom's face at duPont earlier today. She couldn't believe that I had My Girl before I was "this pregnant", and questioned how they keep 1 lb babies alive.

I am relieved to report that my contractions have subsided. I have been extremely tired lately and my energy has been low, so perhaps it is tied to the fact that I have not been doing much in recent days. My tummy is growing and even Hubby commented about "how big" I look. Getting big was something I longed to achieve last pregnancy - and there is no way I would ever turn that down this time, nor would I complain about it. So bring on the big tummy!

My 10th Progesterone shot was administered today and I am officially half way through my injections! I just called for a refill and will pick up my new batch of supplies tomorrow. Wow, the weeks have just flown by to this point. I started the P17 at 16 weeks.

Just a few final thoughts on my previous pregnancy reflections:
  • Prior to being admitted to the hospital on bed rest, I always took off my wedding rings each night before bed and never showered with them on. Afraid to remove them in the hospital for fear of losing them, I kept them on. Yes, Hubby or someone could have taken them home, but the strong symbolism of wearing my rings through what could have been a marriage-wrecking situation but thankfully (I had no doubts) was a marriage-strengthening situation, was very important to me. And while yes, my rings are just things, they were blessed by our priest and are a "sacramentals", a part of our lives as husband and wife. The comfort that reaching my left thumb across to feel the rings brought me was priceless. My rings have not left my finger since. And while it's been conditioned, if you ask My Girl what my rings mean, she will tell you herself that "Mommy married to Daddy".
  • Magnesium sulfate was used to stop my contractions (contractions I had no idea I was having, by the way). It was given by IV and I was closely monitored, having my reflexes and respiration checked quite frequently. Little did I know at the time, but the "mag sulfate" as it's often referred, made me hot, hot, hot. I am a person that normally runs cold, IE: socks to bed in the summer, with the windows open and no air on, cold. Well, the mag sulfate caused me to be so hot that the thermostat in my room was turned as low as it could go. My poor hubby ended up with a head cold (I know, temperature doesn't cause colds, germs cause colds). Additionally, it had affects on my speech and I came to find out that I was very whiny, sounding as though I was intoxicated. So I suppose my point on this is that while I knew I was in shock, I have to wonder how much this particular medication altered what was left of my mental state.
  • The language of the NICU was something we had to learn in crash-course fashion. I should have known when I learned that babies born before term are identified as "weekers". It shocked me, the first time I heard our unborn daughter referred to as a "24 weeker". The word weeker, flagged by spell check, has become an integral part of our "preemie world" as have many other acronyms, abbreviations and medical slang.

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