Posts Tagged ‘hospital’

Liberation! And rebellion.

November 20, 2012

20121120-161515.jpg

Well, that was the longest day on earth. But we’re back home now, and the above cast is sitting in front of me on the table rather than on my daughter’s arm. Hopefully a good thing. She did stifle a cry when the surgeon pushed on her wrist/arm, but he seems to think she’s just stiff from the cast. So no follow up x rays, as he reckons she’s healed and they want to minimise radiation exposure.

He DID break the rules and let us take photos of her x ray, so that is pretty cool. Coconut is particularly obsessed with skeletons, organs, etc, so she thinks it is great. She’s got some giant skeleton and organ posters coming for the holidays…

We’ve been warned off soft play for four weeks, which is a fucking laugh as we are going on holiday next week to a place that is full of soft plays. He said we can see how she is and make a judgement call, but at least the waterslides were given the green light.

The sweetest thing of the day, aside from finally leaving the hospital after an eternity of waiting, is Snort’s reaction to Coconut’s cast getting cut off.

‘Not hurt her? Not hurt her? Not hurt her?’ He was frantic for reassurance from the nurses, me, his granddad. He even moved to intercept the nurse when she began cutting it off and Coconut was very frowny. Very protective brother, he is.

Coco was fine till it was off, then she started sobbing. Snort was very upset, said he was scared, and wanted to go home. Coconut was brave, and says her arm is all better now. Snort told the surgeon her cast was stinky like poo, and tried to get the guy to smell it.

I think the hospital may be as relieved to be shot of us as we are to be rid of them. As Coconut put it on the ride home, ‘We are all finished with hospitals for my arm now.’ I hope she’s right!

Advertisements

Things you SHOULD say.

November 2, 2012

I’m so sorry.
I feel so bad that this has happened.

Any variation of the above is an acceptable thing to say when you have been watching my child and she gets hurt badly enough to need a fucking cast.

She got hurt at gymnastics. I can’t place blame because I wasn’t there, and I suppose it could have happened if I had gone with her, too. But the minimalising it? Not okay.

I looked at her arm, squeezed her wrist a bit. Said if she was still upset in an hour to call me, as we would need to go to the doctor. It didn’t matter that I was in pain, a trip to the doctor with coconut trumps my pain.

I got no call. I blame myself for not checking in, but also sort of assumed things were fine. Till you called three hours later and said my kid had been crying the whole time. For that I do place blame. I heard her sobs in the background and said to bring my kids home, that I would call the doctor. You brought them, helped me take them to the doctor. But you weren’t worried, you didn’t apologise, you acted like she was making the whole thing up.

The doctor said she needed to go to hospital for an x ray. You went with your daughter, my wife, and I sit here now while your husband attempts to put Snort to bed in the midst of fireworks exploding every two minutes.

Coconut needs a cast. She has a bend rather than a break, but she needs a cast. How many hours was she in pain without needing to be? How rough were you with getting her in and out of the car, her carseat restraints, that I did it myself at the doctor’s rather than seeing her cry again?

I feel guilty for not calling. For not insisting she stay with me. But at least she is getting her wrist/arm sorted now, though she’ll be tired and probably scared and definitely missing gym for a few weeks.

I’ll tell you something else, though. I wish TMD had taken the camera to the hospital. Surely this is a moment that could be classed as a milestone. The cast, not the fact that I am going to have to think more carefully about trust and what it means in relation to someone responsible for my kids.

Update on Snort, and our whole family.

March 17, 2011

It’s been a tough day. When Coconut woke up, I kept very busy at first. The house was a total shitfest from last night – vomit covered clothes and pillows (from the ungood combination of giving milk to ‘soothe’ a child who is coughing very very hard fighting to breathe), dishes everywhere, laundry in piles. I got things pretty much sorted, with a little shadow following along behind.

But breakfast? She kept pointing to his chair, his toys, saying ‘Snort, Snort.’ I kept saying he was with the doctor – like she’s going to understand that – and then her face kind of crumpled. Like big eyes, pouty lips.

‘Where’s Snort?’

Aaaaaargh.

My amazing SIL came with her tiny new baby to drive us up to the hospital so I could see Snort. I also wanted TMD to get a little break – the idea being she’d visit with Coco, SIL, and New Baby in the cafe while I hung out with Snort.

He was just screaming and screaming. And very obviously still having major difficulties breathing. I finally got him somewhat calm, and they came in to do a check. The doctor watched him breathing topless, listened to his chest, explained the treatment plan, etc. After all this time in hospital he is still not ready for his meds to be stretched (he is off nebulisers, though, had a bunch of them this morning).

I got him asleep and just looked at him. His cheeks were unnaturally red – making his white blonde hair look brassy and yellow and weird. He was physically shaking from the effects of the medicine. And sweaty. And every now and then he’d let out a big shuddery little kid sob.

They came in for obs – his oxygen sats were 93. Apparently you don’t want them to fall below 92. His heartrate was like 140 – again, no clue what a kid’s heartrate should be, but I do know his was elevated throughout the night and morning. His tummy was really moving in and out hard, using his tummy muscles to help breathe. No, this is not good. His neck was retracting badly and his whole head was nodding from the effort.

I found this very, very upsetting. That he’s been in hospital for what feels like forever, that this is diagnosed as ‘wheeze’, that they can’t get it under control.

Also no one has slept, showered, etc. Poor, poor TMD.

Latest update is that meds now being trial stretched to two hours. Apparently he’s working less hard to breathe, but the wheezing is much much louder. I guess the doctor told TMD the reason for this, but TMD said it was too long to text. He’s just been moved from the children’s emergency room into a hospital ward, so it looks like another night away from home.

I spent the afternoon in bed with Coco. She’s still asleep and it’s 5 pm. I know I need to wake her for any hope of her going to bed this century, but somehow I just need the quiet. I am missing Snort. He was so screamy and tired and scared and angry and sad that the only kiss he’d let me give him was when he was asleep.

Thank you to all who are being nice on twitter, facebook, text, etc. I know I’m not replying to anyone really, too tired, but I am reading everything and it is helping.

I think it says something that the only ‘fun’ I had today was throwing a pizzadilla at Coco as she sat on the floor watching tv while I rushed around like I was on a game show. I had fifteen minutes to pack bags for TMD/Snort and found it weirdly entertaining, if very sweaty. I, of course, forgot milk and bottles.

I suspect tonight will be hard because I’m still upset, and my pelvis is a bit cranky with me for carrying two heavy bags and Coconut today. Plus I am about 57% zombie, so having the energy to do anything is going to be tricky.

And now, I suppose, I go wake Coco up.

Sigh.

He woke with the mildest of colds and had a terrible inability to breathe? Shite.

March 17, 2011

5:30 am. I’m sat on the toilet with ripping poop pains shuddering through me, huddled in the dark so I don’t wake Coconut. I am texting TMD because….wait for it….she and Snort are in the hospital.

He started having bad breathing problems yesterday. We gave him lots of ‘breathies’/puffers/inhalers that did nothing; I also tried some allergy meds in case this was allergies. In reality I knew it was a weirdly large reaction to a minor cold he and I had woken up with.

By 6 pm I said I thought he should go to the hospital in a tentative way. And then thought, oh, but that will fuck with bathtime and sleeping.

By 10 pm he’d woken, screaming, unable to breathe countless times. He was scared.

By midnight I was sitting with him upright on the couch while TMD shoved spare pjs, snacks, milk, medical records, money, our notes about his inhaler use that day, a sling, etc into the nappy bag. His inhaler had to go in an overflow bag because even our giant bag was strained with all the hospital shit.

By a few minutes after midnight I calmly told TMD to stop dawdling and get her ass in gear because he had started hyperventilating. So there I am, breathing in and out really slow to model breathing for him, encouraging him to relax – like he was in labour or something.

She zoomed off at 12:18 for the hospital Snort was born at, because our local hospital does not have a children’s emergency department at night. The car had to be on the main beams/brights as the regular beams had just stopped working.

So I’m all calling my mom. (‘Existere, you should NEVER delay treatment! Kids die from asthma. Ooh, the hyperventilating will cause him to become….blahblahblah’). I’m waiting to hear from TMD. I’m blowing my nose for the 3,500ish time in the past two hours, the skin already red and raw.

I fiiiinally fall asleep around 1:45, and was probably out fifteen minutes before Coconut’s anguished screaming wakes me up. I stumble zombie like to her, realise I need to make a bottle, she breaks loose and runs from her room, screaming, ‘Mummy, Mummy,’ as she looks for TMD. I make some sort of hobo bottle of roughly the right amount of water but way too much formula, so she ends up with what is, essentially, a very very thick milkshake.

She is back asleep by 2:30. I exchange a few more texts with TMD, blow my nose 20 more times,etc.

Now, despite being sick and sleep deprived, I wake up around 5am like fucking clockwork. Cue ripping poop pain. I am sat on that toilet in the dark, not wanting to wake Coco up despite realising I’ll never fall back asleep, when I hear our cat start harking. Deep gagging noises that mean she’s about to puke it up big stylie, probably leaving an awesome hairball. She does this once or twice a year, so the hairballs are large.

Can you hear it? Can you hear the music playing? ‘Lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, LOVE-LY day!’

At this point here’s what I know:

the hospital gave him two hours of hardcore breathies, every twenty minutes. He also received steroids. Like here at home, the breathies did absolutely nothing so he had his first ever proper nebuliser breathing treatment. TMD said she heard the doctor say to a nurse that they are planning 6 hourly intensive breathing treatments for today, so no talk of coming home.

In 4.5 minutes, TMD will have been awake for 24 hours – minus an hour long nap yesterday afternoon. The last night she had sleep she woke up hourly for feeds.

I hate that we have no second car and I have no driving license. We’ll see how today goes, but Coconut and I may have our first ever train ride up to that city, and then maybe a taxi to hospital. TMD, of course, has the carseat – so we’re reluctant to do this as it’s not very safe. Guess we’ll see how the day goes.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I just realised I forgot to look for my cat’s puke. (And the mouse on my netbook has stopped working, rendering the only functioning computer we have virtually useless. I may just puke on top of the cat’s puke.)

TMD pointed out I use exclamation points a lot now.

June 18, 2009

So. Sunday evening had some very, very slight periody type feelings very low down in front. (Also have bad period style cramps in lower back for a couple of weeks now.) Monday morning the cramps were still there, and we weren’t sure if TMD should go into work or what. I finally told her to just go and I would be in touch if they didn’t go away or got worse. She called a few times to check in with me, and by the early afternoon I said I was going to call the hospital. Phoned labour & delivery – told them about cramps, etc, but then they asked follow up questions, and I think it was the ‘discharge’ question that triggered red flags for them.

On Sunday I was pulling my underwear down, and felt that the top left half of my pantyliner was completely soaked through. The underwear on that side was also saturated. I gave it a good sniff (there is no boundary about smelling underwear – or forcing your partner to – when you are pregnant. Just so you know.) and it didn’t smell like pee. But I had a similar thing happen at 19 weeks and nothing else happened.

I have found, believe it or not, that the more pregnant I have gotten, the more calm I have been about niggles and things. So I put on new knickers/pantyliner (or rather TMD did, because if you think I can put on my own panties you are WRONG) and sat around for about an hour. Lots more sniffing and touching of the pad, and no more leaking. So I didn’t really think twice about this. The hospital had another view though and said I needed to come in to see if my waters were leaking or had broken.

Ok.

Went in, got monitored (for babies’ heartbeats, movements, and my contractions), and then needed a pelvic exam to check if it was my waters. Let me say that pre-pregnancy, putting a speculum in me was nothing. Well, this exam was a little more uncomfortable. Sore. Mildly painful. With my eyes squeezed shut and lots of hissing, indrawn breaths, I managed to get through it. I think it is a measure of how much it hurt that I wasn’t even slightly amused that they spread me open with the speculum and then used a GIANT flashlight to peer inside. The doctor also made me cough, and she pulled The Pain Giver out of me and showed me all the white discharge she had collected. She said my waters had not broken (I could have fucking told you that, and I don’t have a medical degree).

I asked if my cervix was still tight and she said it was. I also asked if an exam like this could aggravate my cervix and initiate preterm labour. She said it couldn’t. Doctor also did a quick scan to see what positions the babies were lying in – Mano still breech, left side lower down. Torre still transverse, but her head now on the right side.

Went in to the toilet for a pee, and then couldn’t remember if I was in delivery room 3 or 4 (two rooms to one toilet). Then I heard god awful screaming from room 3. Went back into the room and told TMD that from that woman’s screams alone, I was convinced epidurals were probably awesome. We sat around a few more minutes for them to write up my charts, listened to some more bloodcurdling screams (and then a gratifying sound: a baby crying), and went home.

I got into the bath, noted that my vagina felt like it was falling out of me, didn’t think anything else of it. A few hours later, went for a pee. It was dark, but I clearly saw Something Bad on the toilet paper. Called for TMD to turn on light – yes, light pink streaks on paper. Wiped again and this time there was a bright red splotch on the paper – a final wipe, more pink. Called the hospital, was told to bring an overnight bag and come in.

My emotions went completely dead and numb. I was shaking all over really badly, but only noticed my legs because TMD was worried I was going to fall over. She made me sit down while she made sure I had stuff to take into hospital. (Thankfully had already begun packing my hospital bag, so most stuff was sorted.) Couldn’t stop shaking, and we went into hospital.

A very nice midwife asked how much blood there was, etc. A doctor came in very quickly and said she needed to visualise my cervix to see if blood was coming from there. I told her the earlier exam had hurt and I was very nervous. She was super and talked me through relaxing, really took her time, I focused on breathing, etc. Managed to let her get the speculum in, though I was making stuck pig noises. When she moved it slightly to get the torch, I yelled and involuntarily kicked out. She and the midwife both leapt away from the bed!

The doctor pulled the speculum out and asked if she could have a feel with her fingers. I agreed. (Why, god, why? NEVER AGREE.)  This was semi-okay, but eventually the pain won out and she stopped the exam again. Her hand had quite a lot of blood on it. Also couldn’t get a lower vaginal swab as the pussymonster was not happy. Had some blood drawn for various reasons, including a full blood count, blood type and rhesus factor in case I needed a transfusion if I had a further bleed (!), etc.

The midwife was lovely and said that I should have been warned that pelvic exams cause spotting in most pregnant women – and that while I would have still had to come in to be checked, at least I wouldn’t have had to worry. In fact, every midwife I saw said this should have been explained to me. So, apparently the first doctor – as well as mutilating vaginas as a hobby – also has not made a habit of passing on routine information. The second doctor was very reassuring and said that the bleed was minute. She also said that while her hand had looked bloody, it really was a very small amount of blood. She said she was going to play it safe and admit me, as hospital policy said I needed to stay in for 24 hours. She said she might have let me go home had she been able to definitively assess the cervix, but obviously that didn’t happen.

The midwife then asked if I had already had steroid shots for the babies. I hadn’t. You see, babies born before 34 weeks have ‘sticky lungs’ that make it difficult for them to inflate properly after birth. Two steroid injections (takes 24 hours to absorb) are used to help mature and develop the lungs in case they come early. These steroids last for six weeks, so by the time the medication had worn off, the babies would have mature lungs anyway.

It was a bit scary to think that they thought I needed these shots, but eh. Had a shot deep in my hip (two and a half inch needle! Happy to say my IVF training meant I didn’t even fucking blink.) Went to the toilet – no more screams from neighboring room this time, but clearly audible murder screams from end of hallway – and pantyliner was COVERED in brown blood. Also pink streaking when wiped. Midwife said the doctor had probably knocked loose blood from earlier.

Admitted to ward about 12:30 am – got a private room as I am an official cripple due to SPD!! It was right across from the toilets, so that was good. Very nice as far as hospital rooms go. TMD helped me change and get settled in, then she left for the evening. I didn’t sleep the whole night. Went pee at 3 am, teeny tiny pink spot on toilet paper, minute spot on pantyliner. Pee at seven, no more blood anywhere. Midwife on duty laughed and said I didn’t need to scrutinise paper, as she said the sort of blood to worry about is that which is immediately obvious.

Babies monitored again. Happy to say my blood pressure was also right back down to what it was when I booked. Suspect this is because every time my bp has been checked it’s either when I am rushed to hospital and worried, or when I have been travelling to GP and in pain. So I think my bp is probably incredibly healthy the rest of the time!! Babies still okay. Doctor did rounds and said I needed another night. TMD was there from 8-1 and 3-8:30, with the bit in the middle when she nipped out to bring me back pizza.

In the afternoon ended up being monitored again as I had had a contraction. It was boiling hot in the fucking room, and I had my skirt pulled up to my crotch (don’t worry, pictures are coming!), and my tank top pulled up right under my boobs. My bump felt funny and I looked at it – it completely fucking changed shape. Like the sides pulled in, and it grew an inch or two taller. The whole thing was like concrete. So….monitoring. Had one minor contraction while it was on, but nothing of note or worth worrying about. Both babies were still happy.

Spent most of the day staring at the wall, so tired and hot it was unbelieveable. The midwife came into the the lower vadge swab late in the afternoon, after reassuring me that it was super thin and taken just inside the vaginal entrance so should cause no pain. It lasted about half a second and I was in agonies! She was very surprised and apologetic. I am happy she witnessed me getting the intramuscular steroid injection in my thigh – she kept saying it was going to be very painful, horrible, etc – and again, no blinking. So clearly I CAN tolerate pain, and my vagina is just sore sore sore. She said, ‘It shouldn’t be so sore.’ I said, ‘Your colleagues broke it.’

Later in the afternoon I apparently looked like hell and she came in to check on me. I started crying about how fucking tired I was. Then – was I DRUNK? – I started thanking her profusely for being the best midwife we had had. She really was; she took the time to explain everything she was doing, why she was doing it, and what the results meant. This is so valuable and appreciated.

By Tuesday evening I felt pretty confident I would be allowed home on Wednesday, as there had been no further bleeding. More listening in to babies, reminding me to tell them if I contracted, etc. Was also proscribed codeine for SPD pain, but midwife said I should avoid if possible as it can constipate – and full rectums can make SPD worse and childbirth more difficult.

At this point, she said the cramping could be very, very early signs of labour, SPD, or just the normal preparations of the body for childbirth. She said she didn’t see any reason why I wouldn’t go till 34 weeks. The doctor said full term was very unlikely for twins, and most women delivered at 37/38 weeks. He said if I went to 36/37 weeks that would be brilliant, with 34 as a minimum.

Happy to say I managed a few hours broken sleep on Tuesday night – felt like a million bucks as a result. My SPD pain was rapidly getting worse thanks to the hospital bed, and am now on regular meds, need a wheelchair for anything more than a few steps, and virtually cannot walk at all even with my crutches. Don’t see any choice BUT to use them to get to kitchen/bathroom as a girl has to pee and eat!! Bad pain though.

Wednesday morning more monitoring – of course. Was told that mild period pains were fine and I didn’t need to call in, but I should not allow them to get ‘severe’. So essentially I called the hospital for nothing, and ended up with four painful vagina invasions, SPD declining, spotting, etc. NICE. Was reassured I had done the right thing by calling, as twin labours can come on early and be quite quick. I’m also pleased I got the steroids, and now just focused on staying still, rested, and hydrated for 8 more weeks!!

The babies are interesting. Torre still very, very high – right in my ribs now. So the rib pain back with a vengeance. Also breathing is becoming a treat. Imagine sitting where you are now, but with a bookshelf inside your stomach. Now imagine that bookshelf being pushed higher and higher, until it is directly at the bottom of your boobies and still pushing upwards. All of this is ‘normal’ twin pain, though, so I’m okay with that. Doctor said I would be having increasing pain, and that it was normal with twins to now have cramping, contractions, etc for the rest of the pregnancy. He also repeated the friendly thing every medical professional I have seen says – twin pregnancies hurt and I will feel pain no woman who has only had one will feel. Gee, thanks.

I think Mano may have shifted positions last night, as I felt the sort of slow motion intense movements I felt when Torre swapped over. Part of me was terrified he was going head down, as the pelvic exams have actually really scared me – if I can’t handle that, how can I push two babies out my snatch? Seriously. On the upside, I’m now feeling very positive about the whole recommended epidural for twin mummies thing!

I think that’s virtually everything. Got home yesterday, took a very warm bath and passed out in it, screamed as I hobbled to the couch, passed out again. Slept very good last night – think I got a solid four hours. Happy and relieved to be home. Having some mild cramping and tightenings today, but compared to those vaginal exams nothing is bad.

I think my tiny oasis of calm pregnancy is finished now. Once I hit 24 weeks, it was a relief. Once I hit 28 weeks, I edged into the territory where twins can come and obviously preterm labour is still my biggest worry. STAY INSIDE, BABIES. IT IS NICE IN THERE.

Love to you all.

Quickie but goodie.

June 18, 2009

First of all, I want to thank every single one of you who left a comment – I read them all this morning and was very touched. It made me feel slightly more sane to stay connected to ‘the outside world’ via this blog and Twitter, so thanks to TMD and my sister for updating – and for the other people who were happy to update but I couldn’t contact! A reminder that if I haven’t updated my blog in awhile, check Twitter! Thank you to everyone who called, texted, or Twittered in response.

The last three days have been very, very long. Lots has happened, and I will write about it in detail just for memory’s sake. It is a long story, but it is also a short story:

Both babies are okay. I am okay. We are home, and hoping to still get to 38 weeks. That is the bottom line – the babies are still very happy and healthy.

I am so thankful about this. I will write more in detail later, as I said, but I felt like my whole world was cracking in half when I saw blood on Monday. I started shaking the way I did when I was run over, I couldn’t control my body. More on that later, but for now:

thank you thank you thank you, the babies are okay.

27 weeks 5 days pregnant with the twins!!

May 31, 2009

Hey, everyone. Sorry for the appalling lack of updates. I just haven’t felt like turning on the laptop – perhaps this is a worrying new pregnancy symptom?

Just a short update today, as this laptop is on the table and it is killing me to sit upright! We went to a daylong multiples antenatal class yesterday (which was fabulous!) but it totally broke me as I haven’t sat upright that long in approaching ten weeks. Last night was pretty bad pain (cue ribs and crotch), and I finally ended up on the couch with poor TMD sleeping on the floor behind the couch in case I woke up in pain – didn’t realise she did this until this morning. Lovely of her.

Lots to update, including another trippy trip to the hospital. Both babies are fine, no worries. I just hadn’t felt Mano move one day, so went in for monitoring. That was AWESOME, let me tell you. Huge belts stretched very tight against the bump – one monitor (a little circle thing held in place by the straps) per baby, and a third monitor for contractions. I had to press one of the monitors down to get Mano (suspect he is transverse again. sigh)….have you seen that episode of Friends where Chandler gets The Claw from playing too much Pac-Man? Yeah. I got The Cripple Hand from pressing down on this circle so firmly for an hour.

In other news, I was the only crippled up preggo at the twins antenatal class yesterday, aside from a HUGELY pregnant girl (from my country of origin – perhaps we just make big bumps and this country makes more reserved, proper looking bumps?) who was 32 weeks. She had itsy bitsy SPD in her crotch. My smile went plastic when she complained about how much it hurt – as she is tottering around in tiny little sandals and STILL working. No crutches for her folks….and no wheelchair either. I suspect I am nearing wheelchair status. Anyway.

There were three or four other women who were also 27 weeks, or maybe up to 29. My bump DOMINATED theirs. Everyone kept looking at my stomach and coming up in breaks and things to say, ‘How far along are you?’

I don’t know whether I am happy or worried that I am like some sort of Yeti belly while everyone else looked like they were having only one child. Hrrmm. (Or if I am like, HAHA you little small bellies!! I am going to produce babies with healthy birthweights!!! Muhahahahah.)

Okay, need to go. Can’t sit up any longer!!! Thank you to all for the lovely comments, sorry I have not replied as of yet. Have bump pictures from last week, pics from the hospital trip, and hopefully will take more pics today – will definitely aim to get those bump pics up ASAP.

I possibly should have taken pictures of my feet/ankles as well, because if I didn’t know better I would think I was ALSO pregnant with additional babies in those locations. (Jesus – the other day both feet went totally blue with only blotchy pink/skin coloured bits. Fucked up! I also threw up. Apparently the sun is no longer my friend and I get all fake heat stroked easily. Convenient as this is supposed to be a bad mamma jamma summer.)

Love to all, and to all a good day!

—–

Crappy crap. Just reread this and realised I want to blog about one more thing before I forget it. Or at least jot it down as a reminder. Yesterday we were given little babies to change diapers (the teacher had squirted what looked like pureed curry all over the inside of the diapers and on the babies. Yum.), and while she was handing them out, she put on a CD of a wailing baby. Loud.

This was on for maybe a minute maximum, and while there was some nervous laughter, you could read the panic on everyone’s faces. We were all thinking, And that is only ONE baby crying. I almost found listening to that CD unbearable. Is this worrying?

Okay, this is really the end for now. My crotch has fallen out and is looking up at me pathetically from the floor, so I suppose I should go rescue her.

First hospital stay of the twin pregnancy.

May 1, 2009

Hello, kids. I’m happy to report I’m writing from home and not the hospital.

Oh, wait, you didn’t know I was in the hospital? I guess that’s because my only way to communicate to the outside world while in hospital is by updating twitter. It occurs to me as it gets closer to Baby Time that twitter will be how I let people know what’s happening – please note I can’t read your responses to my twitterings while away from the computer, but they are appreciated when I come back!

ANYWAY.

I called the hospital last night to describe the pain I’d been having. The midwife said I needed to come into labour and delivery immediately. Yeah, I know. I wasn’t too worried about it all and showered quickly before we left, because my stay in the hospital last summer taught me you want to go in as clean as possible because god only knows when you will next get a shower.

I was a bit shaky and nervous – hopped up on nerves, really – because who wants to hear the words ‘labour and delivery’ at 23 weeks pregnant?

TMD and I drove to the hospital (takes 20 minutes at 8:56 pm, note to self) and immediately got ushered into a private delivery suite. Cue detailed history of current pain, questions about my SPD, listening to both babies at the same time, and pissing in a little cardboard bowl that fit neatly over the toilet seat. The midwife was brilliant. We then needed to wait a tiny bit for the doctor – during which time period TMD discovered the very unfortunate CD choices for giving birth – including Eminem and Shakira. Whatever you may think of either artist, do you want to push your babies out to this music?

The doctor came in, palpitated my tummy, and then did a visual check of my cervix after explaining that with twins the biggest worry is premature labour. My cervix was tightly closed and nice and long, thank god. She also took a swab which was PAINFUL like a mofo. Does pregnancy change the sensitivity of your cooch or something?!?

This whole exam thing fucked my SPD up pretty badly – laying flat on my back is not a good idea, and the doctor also had me spread my legs. This is a big SPD no no. It was pretty awesome when my back began cracking and creaking really loud, and I was making that painful inhalation noise all over the place.

Doctor said she suspected bad ligament pain from my rapidly expanding uterus (measured at 25 weeks last week and at 31 WEEKS last night! That’s a big jump in growth, kids.). Said the babies were okay and there was nothing to worry about. I was given some codeine stuff and told that I had to spend the night.

Thankfully TMD and I are optimistic realists, and we had packed a bag before leaving home. I was put into the antenatal ward at about 11 pm in the evening, to enter to nighttime nightmare of Snoring Lady, Sobbing Lady, and painful hips & back. I swear to god, had I not gone home today the hospital would have crippled me. We’re going to buy some special pillows and stuff to support me with the SPD, because chances are this won’t be my last hospital stay this pregnancy.

This morning (if a whole night without sleep leads to morning, which I have since found out it does) had some more baby listening. Also saw another doctor, who said I was fine to go home assuming urine stuff was okay. My dipped urine tests were fine, but they were waiting for results from some microscope test or something. About ten minutes after this interlude with the doctor, the midwife came back and said they were going to let me go & would ring if there was a problem with the test results. She had one final listen to the babies and I was sent on my merry way.

I am in a good deal of fascinating pain today, and have accordingly strapped on my maternity belt to hold up my increasingly heavy bump. While Bumpy has been big before, just in the last day or so it has started feeling really heavy down low. I’ve got the belt on in such a way that it’s like an extra pair or hands holding my bump up, so that I can use my real hands to lift my legs up and down off the couch.

Spent today sleeping – and I am notorious for not being able to sleep in the daytime. Now am awake and awaiting a call from my mobile phone company. Whilst in hospital I realised I cannot receive texts from TMD (wtf, when you are in hospital, middle of the night texting becomes very important), and then today had the realisation that I have received no texts from anyone. And here I thought Aussie was on crack for telling me she had texted me some Very Important Stuff earlier in the week.

Mobile phone company are calling back to do a full phone reset or some nonsense, but the update they sent through appears to have fixed the texting issue. I even got Aussie’s text from earlier in the week. Have received text from a variety of friends – but still cannot receive from TMD. None of her old texts came through, either. Going to tell the phone people to leave my phone alone, because now the problem may be hers. Hope we get this sorted out, as she is obviously the main person I text with during the day (and middle of the night, when I am lying awake in hospital!).

I was yelled at pretty bad (in a professional way) by the doctor I saw last night, who strongly admonished me I should have been in hospital the second these pains began. Every midwife told me I must call immediately for any questions or niggles. And the doctor today said the same thing. Everyone kept repeating that the biggest worry is premature labour, so I need to take this all seriously and not worry about bothering them.

I think I’ve got this ligament pain for awhile now, so will ring only if it gets massively worse or changes in some way. My next antenatal appointment and scan is next Friday (t minus six days), so hoping that everything really is hunky dory. Dopplers are fine in their place, but it is always nice to have a visual confirmation that the bags of waters, placentas, etc are all good. I guess the only oddball thing is that one baby’s heartrate (Torre’s, we think) was higher than usual, but still normal. Over 160, though. The midwife this morning said they were 148 and 162 – the exact opposite of what the babies were doing last night. I suspect one midwife or the other mixed up the whole ‘twin 1’ ‘twin 2’ thing.

So, the upshot: I was smart to have TMD pack a bag, babies are fine, my body is slowly falling apart but will hopefully go the distance, and I am 23 weeks pregnant and measuring 31. Also if this isn’t wind I can’t blame my mother and her fucking fiber bars!

Love to you all.

From writing to pregnancy tests, in one smooth step.

July 29, 2008

Out of curiousity, I just googled ‘writing exercises.’ I found a site that has a five minute exercise per day for every day of the year. The first one I read is something like… George has high blood pressure. His wife has just come home from the grocery store; she has bought things that are not good for George. Write with dialogue.

I read it and could almost picture my brain yawning.

I don’t usually like other people’s exercises, with a few notable exceptions. Birdwatcher lent me a book called Wild Mind or something, and it was chock full of delicious ideas that I was delighted with. Most of them were more vague, though. Such as writing for fifteen minutes, continuing with the statement ‘I remember.’ This is what I like – my own choice of ideas, words, paths to explore. I don’t really give a fuck about George’s high blood pressure (he couldn’t even have an interesting name, could he) or the massive fight he and Georgina are about to get into.

I can picture some Spaghetti Os spattering against the walls, but this is shortly followed by my metaphorically brain as the gunshot rips through my head.

(Ooh, this reminded me of the bit in The Shining where the dead guy’s brains show up on the wall in the Presidential Suite. Sweet!)

I was writing in my paper journal this morning about how my problem isn’t with characters, it’s with story. This is perhaps the opposite of when I am verbally storytelling, and also perhaps the opposite of the way I’d like to be. That being said, those godawful Dan Brown books. He may be able to plot a fast-paced story, but his character description is worse than in romance novels written for housewives. Actually, he’s probably one of the worst (albeit famous) writers ever.

Whereas Stephen King is all about the characters (and also ends up with pretty solid plots, as well), and his stories seem driven more by the people in them than the events. I think that’s not a bad way to write, and maybe it makes sense for me seeing as I’m all up in other people’s psychological spheres all day long.

The key is managing to start writing without stopping because it’s going no-no-nowhere.

In other news, when I went to the hospital they asked about 65362575 times if I was pregnant and finally bullied me into taking a test. This sort of heterosexist thinking really got me angry, and it was surprising that TMD had such a wildly different take on things, saying I should just go ahead and take the test. Let’s think about when I last had sex with a man – probably 1998 or 1999. Unless he had some long-life sperm, I don’t think that’s going to do the trick.

I fully accept they had legal reasons to ask. I also accept that theoretically I could be cheating on TMD and fucking men. But surely they should have asked her to step out of the room and to speak to me alone if that was an issue?

I finally caved because the lovely surgeon (the only one who was not completely – and I hate this word – retarded about us being a lesbian couple) begged me to so she wouldn’t get in trouble with her boss.

Grr. Argh.

I think it also probably annoyed me because I would like nothing more to be pregnant, and having to tell 50 different people 100 different times that I was not pregnant was fairly harsh.

And TMD took pictures. Her idea, not mine.

July 23, 2008

Christ above.

I’ve been in the hospital since Monday evening. I’ve had blood squirt everywhere from a faulty iv line, had an iv cathader, ridden in multiple wheelchairs, had a finger up my ass, had a billy club ultrasound up my cooch, had multiple x rays and blood tests, had a bunch of people pound on my stomach and ask if it hurts, etc.

They thought it was apprendicitis; it now looks as though I had an ovarian cyst burst.

I lied to the doctors today and told them I had no pain so I could come home.