Last night was awful, and I would probably write a detailed post about it were my eyelids not being fried by The Mag (all of the capillaries on my very white, clear-lashed eyelids have broken and my eyeballs are boiling. I have never looked more beautiful). The nurse who started my IV yesterday morning warned me that The Mag might make me feel I was being burned from the inside out, and unfortunately, it turned out to be rather an apt description. Computer screens exacerbate the problem, so this will be brief-ish.
For now, yes, Ames’ water remains broken, but I am stable, and on Magnesium and IV antibiotics. The doctors are hoping they can stave off infection/labor long enough to buy Simone a couple of weeks. They can’t do a transvaginal ultrasound or cervical exam because of the infection risk, so we are more or less in a semi-blind holding pattern, or what they call “expectant management.” They will probably take me off The Mag tomorrow, and start me on Nipefisomething. I can’t look up the correct spelling, and Scott will have to post this entry, because I am in my new room in the antepartum wing, where I will remain until the babies are born. And this room has NO WIRELESS. My old room had wireless, but this room, designed for women on long-term bedrest, has none. (There has been mention of “broadband wireless cards” that may be purchased, but I have a Mac, and Scott says they are not for Macs. Is this true?) Scott can pick up a stray wireless signal if he presses the laptop against the window, and in this way he can post things for me and download my email, but if anyone a better idea, for a homemade antenna maybe, please let me know.
We are holding up. Simone is monitored three times a day, and she hasn’t shown distress, though I worry every time she is off the monitor. She doesn’t move much because of The Mag, but on the Mag I have only a couple of contractions an hour, so until the crucial 24 hours since my last steroid dose have passed, I will merely fret and poke at her. I have no fever, despite the boiling sensation. So things are what passes for good, now. I wish I had a better idea of how much time I am likely to have now that I have ruptured—not that knowing will change anything, but still. Anecdotes, whether encouraging or not, are welcome.
I hope I am here a long time, and yet (selfishly) I am a wee bit nervous. They loaded me up with a maximum dose of sleeping medicine last night, a dose eight times that I have successfully used for sleep in the past, and I managed only the occasional 40-minute doze. I have barely mastered the art of sleeping in my own home, so I expect to be seeing trails and hallucinating Hugh Laurie within a few days of being hospital-bound all night.
I am simultaneously exhausted and on the edge of my metaphorical seat. My dear friend described this pregnancy as having turned into a sort of zombie movie: one improbable horror piled upon the next so that you find yourself thinking fondly of the time—was it just 20 minutes ago?—when less than 25% of the cast had been killed off and you still had your muscle shirt and your left hand. She said it much better, but trust me, it was exactly right. I should maybe mention that I have always hated zombie movies.
I hope to be able to write more after they turn off The Mag tomorrow and I feel less like…well, like I do now. But until then, thank you all. And those of you I know locally who offered visits? I just may take you up on that, as a stiff upper lip is so much easier to maintain with company.
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I’m so freaking impressed with your sheer moxie, Alexa – who else could write a post that made me snicker even as you detailed the exhausting, long battle you’ve been fighting. Hang in there (as if there were anything else to do…) and know that the internets are sending love to you and your family. I wish I lived closer – I’d be in your room holding the wireless antenna, perhaps offering you a frozen Feral Kitten chip.
Just for the record, I’m with you on zombie movies. ;)
I am just sitting here, chanting “it will be okay” over and over in my head. This may not sound reassuring, but let me explain that it is a very confident and declamatory “it will be okay,” not a pleading and begging one. You’re in a hospital, where they know how to take care of babies and mothers, and Simone is disinclined to be a damsel because she is not in distress.
Hoping very hard for you and Simone. I want everything to be okay, and will continue my system of internal decrees to that effect. I wish I could do more, but alas, this is my best. (And all for you! Lucky girl.)
It will be okay.
So pleased to see an update from you. I was worried about you and Simone.
Glad everything is fine (if you count being burned alive fine).
Also? What kind of hospital wouldn’t offer wireless to long term bedrest patients??? I mean, WTF?
I wish I could visit you, dear Alexa, and I wish I could say something to make your present ordeal a little easier. Hang in there, cookie — and that goes for you especially, dear Simone.
Hospitals are so thoughtless when it comes to those who wish to keep in contact with the outside world while stuck within their gloomy confines!
I’m rooting for you guys! Be well!
Great to see your post. I am one of Simone’s many cheerleaders. Popular girl your chickie!
I say make your visitors come and put them on typing duty so they can type us your post as you speak. Like a secretary. I live in Cape Town, South Africa which is a tad far so I won’t be on the typist roster.
I know you are having a super shitty time and it sucks but you are handling it so well. You are a great mother already.
Thinking of you constantly and wishing *I* lived close enough to visit. Wait, do I even know where you live?
Ah, so pleased that Simone is still safely tucked away where she belongs, long may it continue.
I’m not sure if you have the same things in the States (I am sending you all my best wishes from London) but I have a mac, and a magic toy called a web’n'walk which uses a mobile phone sim card to provide internet access.
Its not exactly fast or absolutely reliable, but maybe it will help, as long as there is phone reception in your room.
And should you need someone to assist you with the stiffening of your upper lip during your sleepless nights, I think time differences should mean I’m awake at the same time as you, and no one knows upper lip etiquette like an Englishwoman!
Oh good news then, how excellent! I am firmly believing in the best case scenario and Bob’s your uncle, it will be so. Rotten plot this has been, maybe it will now turn into The English Patient, with nothing but vast amounts of boredom and dullness. (I may just have insulted a few hundred of your readers – and maybe even you – but there you go, had to be said.)
I have an encouraging (hopefully) anecdote for you. I know someone who had their water break at 26 weeks. She was also on magnesium and antibiotics. They were able to put off her having her baby for 13 days when they had to deliver via c-section (her baby was breach) because she (mom, not baby) was getting an infection. That baby is now a beautiful one-year-old girl, perfectly healthy.
I am glad to hear you are stable for now. Thinking of you and wishing only the best for you and Simone.
Oh dear. Mag does suck! Nifedipine will be much easier on your system and it does well at preventing contractions. My heart goes out to you and your family. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
Kathy
Alexa, you are amazing! You are being such a trooper about all this: I can’t believe you’re even managing to post on Mag. I hope those hallucinations of Hugh Laurie are being nice to you. I wish so dearly that I could fly up there right now and hold your hand. I can’t, which breaks my heart, but it seems like you have an army of women ready to surround you so I will send my love with theirs. Hang on, sister. You are doing so, so well.
Simone, stay, baby, stay. Please stay.
I am amazed at you, and in sheer awe at your strength. Mag sounds terrible but I am very glad to hear that it’s doing what it’s supposed to be doing (burning up from the inside notwithstanding), and that Simone is staying put. I hope she is able to stay put as long as possible, to grow and get healthier and stronger.
I’m so relieved not to be reading that Simone is born. I know the Mag sucks, I believe I referred to it as “that Mag Shit” and declared that it should be banned in civilized countries. My OB described it as “you feel like you laid on the beach for 10 hours and drank 10 Coronas.” But if it works to keep you both going for a little while longer, it’ll be worth it. Plus it does weird things to your reflexes.
Keep up the good fight and know that everyone is thinking of you.
Oh my God, Alexa. You are amazing and I’m so relieved to hear that you are okay. I also feel guilty each time I obsessively check your site for an update and think, “Post soon!”
I hope at the very least you’ll begin to feel more comfortable soon and get wireless access somehow.
Thinking of you, Simone and Scott.
I wish I knew more about computers so I could fix your problem. The only piece of assvice I know is that when my Dad’s cell phone wouldn’t get reception in the house, we put one of those sticker antennas for car windows on our house windows and now everyone gets good reception in that house. I wonder if there is something like that for computers? To pick up that signal and amplify it?
It really sucks that they don’t have wireless for that section. I wonder if they think it will interfere with machines?
I live too far away to visit. Would you like me to hire a singing clown to come visit you?
I just wanted to say I’m still pulling for you and Simone, and wish I could do more.
Right now, all I can do is send my best wishes, and set aside as probably a magnesium-induced lapse in judgement your rather unfortunate disregard for zombie movies. I’ll save my spirited defense of the genre for sometime when you are feeling better, and Simone is at soccer practice.
Whew. I was so relieved to read that Simone is still okay. Hang in there. You’re doing a great job with that stiff upper lip, and even though I don’t live locally to come visit you, know that my thoughts are with you!
I’m so glad that Simone is hanging in there and I’m hoping you’ll be stuck in bed for many more weeks. :) Frankly, I’m amazed that you are able to write at all on the Mag. I was on in almost 5 and a half years ago when I went into early labor and I still vividly recall that burning sensation. I recall that for about 24 hours solid my husband had to repeatedly cover my body in overlapping cool washclothes. I was barely capable of a coherent thought much less typing! Hoping you’re zombie movie has a happy ending involving many more weeks of bedrest and a smiling and healthy Simone.
29 years ago, my niece was born at 26 weeks. She was so small you could hold her in one hand and she wore doll clothes the first 3 months. She not only has thrived these last 29 years but she just had her own (8 pound) little girl this October.
Imagine how much modern science has improved since the 70′s. Just hold on. Simone will have some great stories to be told in a few years. She is amazing and strong, just like her Mamma.
I only discovered your site a few months ago, and most often lurk: reading your updates with enthusaiasm but rarely posting something in reponse. Recently I’ve started to think of myself as a member of Team Flotsam. It may sound a little bit cheesy, and definitely more “organized sports” than I’ve ever been…but what it comes down to is that through your writing you’ve made so many connections online. I am one of them. You and Scott and Ames and Simone have my support, my thoughts, my tears, my love, my hopes. I’m crossing my fingers and praying and wishing on lucky pennies and I would even, if I could, wear a shirt with “Team Flotsam” emblazoned on it. I guess all I’m trying to say is that the internet is here for you. I am here for you.
*Cough*, to quickly switch tones, the only time I’ve ever heard someone refer to their experiences on Magnesium it is as a “Mag Hag”
For those Hugh Laurie hallucinations, “House” is new tonight. I just looked it up in the TV Guide, and apparently this is one of the last three episodes they’ve got–and it’s the episode meant to air around Christmas time. The main patient is Janel Maloney (Donna Moss from West Wing) who is dying but can’t (maybe won’t) tell House and his team where it hurts. I don’t know if it’s something you’d want to watch while in the hospital, but if it’s a show you follow–and the hallucinations made it sound like you do–get someone to tape it for you.
Hey, for Wireless, maybe you could send Scott with the laptop to any empty rooms to see if they get better signals. If they do you could beg and plead to switch rooms. That’s my best, extremely non-technicaly idea. I’m sure one of the other posters has a better one ;)
So relieved to hear you and Simone are still hanging in there. Now, just a few more months…
Keep on kicking ass, girl! I agree that this is the ugliest, most nightmarish situation I’ve ever witnessed (if you can witness something online), but I have a very, very strong feeling that Simone and you will come out of this well. I hope you somehow find a moment’s peace and some much-needed rest. Love from us all.
WOW – sounds really hard – wish I had some great story to tell you.
BUt, you’ve come so far… virtual hug.
This is just so terrifying. Well, minus the Hugh Laurie part. Holding my breath, and willing good things with every last ounce of my being.
If you are comfortable doing so, find my email over on my profile page and blip me the name of your hospital. I would be happy to start the chain of nastygrams to all administration about getting internet access for those on long-term bedrest because that? is ass. Would also be happy to send you anything your heart desires. Thinking of you.
Like Becky, I am wishing for some bedsores for you, in the hopes that your bedrest lasts a long, long time.
And as Susy said, girl preemies do better than boys in general–I think it’s because girls mature faster, even in the womb. But let’s hope your brilliant girl holds on quite a while longer.
Delurking to say that I read your blog all the time and I am hoping HARD for you and Simone.
Encouraging anecdote: One of my students, who is now 19, was born at 25 weeks. This was obviously 19 years ago – in Tunisia. She is more than great – a tall, leggy blonde, straight A student and ballet dancer. When I think of Simone, I picture her.
My daughter was born early too, so I collected encouraging stories during that time. Believe me, there are countless stories of healthy babies born in the 6-7 month range.
May The Force be with you Alexa and Simone. We are all pulling for you.
I feel for you. I just started lurking here and am thinking about you and hoping for the best. I was hospitalized for six and a half weeks on magnesium for preterm labor with twins. Hang in there.
Also, there is a great group called Sidelines. It’s support for complicated pregnancies and bedrest and they link you up with a buddy who’s been through something similar. You can talk on the phone or email with that person. http://www.sidelines.org
I have no wonderful anecdotes and I live far away, so I can’t even visit and try to help stave off boredom, but I will continue to pray for your health and that of SImone.
I think you should be able to find a broadband wireless card for a Mac. I will check with my IT guy and get back to you.
I’m holding my breath for you.
It is definitely possible to go many many weeks after rupture before delivering. I sent you an email with more info already, but I will send you another one with a link to stories. Thinking of you.
Yipi!!! That is GREAT news! I knew she would survive.
I’m continuing to hope and pray for you and Miss Simone. That’s stinky that you can’t get wireless.
The wireless broadband cards require a PCMCIA (or PCMIA) slot which aren’t usually found on Mac’s. My IT guy thinks there might be a USB adapter for them, however. Just a suggestion!
I’m keeping you in my thoughts. Hold steady…
Whew! What a relief to see your post today. I woke up in the middle of the night, wondering how you and Simone were doing. I’m glad to hear you are hanging in there, the troopers that you are.
Sending many healthy blessings your way.
Girl preemies do better, my three pound two ouncer is here to tell you so. And the docs all told me that stress in utero triggers a process by which the baby will kick into high gear on lungs and neuro function – somehow she knows to refocus on the mandatory things and maybe grow a little slower while she does what needs to be done.
You are strong Aelxa, and you can do it. You can!! Sometimes blond girls beat the zombies, with a maximum of ass kicking. Buffy the Vampire Slayer knows all about it.
Please give us an address or a P.O. Box and Scott can bring you all the mail we will send you to help pass the time. I keep suggesting you ask us to email or post for you, so we can entertain you. Please don’t be one of those “I can’t ask for help” people – we are aching to help you any way we can. Please!
We love you.
Popped away for a few days, and am so… sad? angry? astonished? (on your behalf) at these turn of events. Sending positive thoughts into the ether toward you.
I’ve been lurking/reading your blog for the last couple of weeks and can’t help but check updates at least daily. I am hoping that everything goes well these next couple of weeks. Simone – please hang in there!!!
BTW, what’s the deal with no wireless for long-term bedrest? Very unfair. My thoughts are with you.
You’re my hero, Alexa. I know you probably feel like complete poo, but before you know it, you’ll be on the other side of all this and just look back in amazement. I deal with major issues the same way you seem to – a mostly detached, almost denial feeling…like you’re temporarily trying on someone else’s life.
I’m checking in on you all the time – I hope you’re at least a tad bit comforted knowing all these people are on your team and cheering you on.
Alexa, I will keep you and your family in my thoughts. I hope there is a long span of no news, and then some good news. Hang in there. I am pulling for you.
Oh my goodness Alexa, thinking of you. Hoping as hard as I can.
xx
J
So sorry for the loss of your little boy, and all the problems you are having.
My daughter turned one today, currently she is very happy and healthy but she started out at 2 lbs and was born at 28 weeks. My water broke and I made it one week in the hospital. They told me 60% of people deliver within a week of their water breaking, but some can make it 6 weeks or more. She spent 8 weeks in the NICU, but didn’t have any major problems. There is a lot of knowledge of preemies; they take great care of them. Steriods do wonders, and every hour your little girl stays put helps her out.
Hang in there–
I wasn’t at work yesterday, so I didn’t get to check in here to see what was going on. I thought positive thoughts about you all day long though. I am so glad that Simone is being a good little girl and listening to her mommy on staying put. The positive thoughts will continue.
You asked for anecdotes, so here’s mine (or rather, my sister’s). She was pregnant with identical twin boys a few years ago and the pregnancy was troubled the entire time – the boys had twin to twin transfusion syndrome, and at one point were within hours of both dying in the womb. Nevertheless, they held on, and so did my sister.
At 27 weeks, the doctors discovered that one twin, Joe, had developed two holes in his heart. They anticipated having to operate immediately after his birth. At 28 weeks, my sister’s water burst, and she was taken to UVA in Charlottesville, put on bed rest and antibiotics, and told to hold on to them as long as she could. Mind you, she had a 20-month old at home at that point, so leaving her husband and her little girl behind – and two hours away – was a big deal!
Anyway, she managed to last two whole weeks in the hospital, on antibiotics and whatnot, after her water broke, before the boys just decided that they were DONE and wanted to be born. At 11:55 p.m. on January 20, 2001, Sam popped out – at 12:03 a.m. on January 21, Joe followed. They weighed six and seven pounds respectively – SIX AND SEVEN POUNDS! – and the most amazing thing was that Joe’s heart had healed up entirely just hours before he was born. There were no holes, anywhere. They stayed in NICU for a week and then were sent home.
The boys just turned 7 a few weeks ago, and they are healthy, happy and completely normal. Here are the boys today:
http://tinyurl.com/29hgla
I just know that you are going to have a very long bedrest so that Simone stays put. I agree with Ginger–have Scott set up a P.O. Box or something so we can send you cards, books, magazines, crossword puzzles–anything to help make the wait more tolerable. Hopefully you can get to a room with a wireless connection. Just tell the hospital that Simone has hundreds of supporters all over the country that need to know how she is doing!
I mostly lurk but I had to tell you that I’ve been thinking of you all day and wishing that everything turns out well for you, Scott and Simone. Stay put young lady!!
Thanks for the update. I hope that things keep improving and that Simone can hold on for as long as possible. I’ll be keeping praying and hoping for you
Absolutely EVERYTHING’s crossed for you guys. Everything!
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