Still Tuesday, but not so scary. (Part 2)

The paramedics somehow got the stretcher next to the exam table and were getting ready to move me over. One thing that drives me bananas is being treated like I'm helpless. I knew I didn't want to be on my feet, but could certainly slide my own body two feet to the right. Once I was as settled as could be on that incredibly uncomfortable cart (the rumors I'd heard from my patients are true!) and all buckled in we set in motion. In the hallway I began to realize that they were taking me out through the waiting room. The last thing I wanted was for people to stare at me and wonder what had happened, so I pulled the sheet that had been covering me up over my face. Most people know that I am not one to be the center of attention without perfoming just a little, but this time refrained from doing what I really wanted to do. It had crossed my mind to make a groaning sound and let my arm fall off the cart to the side while holding my breath, (making it look like they were transporting a body) but had sense enough to realize that not only would the paramedics freak out, but they would remove that sheet from covering my face and expose my identity. Probably a good call to leave well enough alone.

The ride to the hospital was pretty bouncy and uncomfortable. Luckily, it wasn't far. The paramedic in the back with me got ready to start my IV and asked me what line of work I was in. I remember telling him that I would let him know AFTER my IV was in (no one needs added pressure for perfection from an IV/PICC line nurse) and that I would appreciate it if he could use a 22 gauge in my right "intern" vein. He did use the vein that I wanted, but said that the 22 was too small and reached for a 16 gauge. I kindly let him know that I would not be needing large volume rapid infusions and jokingly spouted off about how the CDC and INS standards strongly recommend using the smallest bore catheter in the largest vein possible for the shortest duration of time required for the prescribed therapy, and threw in that a needle that size would leave too large of a scar on my pretty little wrist when it came out. I begged for a 20 gauge, he grabbed an 18 gauge and I gave up. At least he got it in on the first try.

In the ER a lab tech drew some blood and asked me a question that I could not answer. "Are you Pregnant?" Good question. All I could do is stare at her and all she could do was repeat herself. "Ma'am, are you pregnant?" I honestly didn't know how to answer her. I thought that I could explain how I was 17 weeks pregnant this morning but delivered a whole lot of something in the office, was told I had had a baby but don't really believe it, so the answer to her question would be probably but maybe not. Finally a nurse came in as she inquired once again and hushed the lab tech. She left with a red face and certain embarassment. I feel SO bad for people when things like this happen. I know that she didn't know what was going and just needed an answer, but I just had no words.

They did an ultrasound in the ER also but the only thing they said was that the baby was still there. I didn't know if the baby was still living or not, and didn't want to ask for fear that the answer would be no. Ignorance could bring bliss for just a little longer, couldn't it?

Finally they moved me up to my room where I met one of the greatest nurses, Kim. She was awesome. She told me how sorry she was, cried with me, held my hand, and showed so much compassion. The only thing that she didn't do was get me something to eat. (not her fault, blame the Doc) By then it had been nearly 6 hours since I had eaten my chips and pineapple and I was starving!

It was early evening before I had a chance to call Craig back. He was unable to get out of Alabama that night but had booked the first flight out the next morning and would be back in the QCA by noon. He told me that he had called my mom and she was on her way. Oh, my mom. My heart broke as I thought of her making that drive by herself. I remember how long that drive was when we were trying to get to the farm after Dad's accident. We talked for a few more minutes before the doctor came in with more news. He told me that the Ultrasound in the ER showed that the baby still had a heartbeat, but that the prognosis was very poor. I would likely either go into labor and deliver or else develop an infection at which time they would have to induce labor to keep me safe. The baby was simply too small to live outside of me. "Oh God, fill me with your spirit, because I don't think I can cope with another loss. I'm begging for a miracle, but whatever Your will is, help me to accept it, Lord." Peace found me once again.

I watched intently as they placed the sonosite probe over my belly and saw that tiny little heart flickering on the screen. My baby was still alive. There was hope--it was just slight glimmer, but still hope.

Craig and I talked again. We cried and hoped and comforted eachother. For a little bit it seemed like he was right next to me, not 800 miles away. I wanted so much for him to be with me and I knew that he would have done anything to have been there, but we would just have to wait. I felt helpless. What made me feel worst of all, though, was knowing that our tiny little miracle was sleeping inside of me and my body could no longer provide what it needed to live. There was nothing that I could do.

I called to check on Mom--she was only a few miles out--and a called a couple of friends. I didn't want a lot of visitors. Within minutes the "Three M's" showed up. Mom, Molly, and Mary. Perfect. We cried, we laughed just a little, and then we cried some more. I begged my wonderful new nurse, Amanda, for a PB & J sandwich and she became my new BFF when it arrived. (They finally allowed me to eat because I had stabalized--and whined a lot!)

Before bed I posted my first blog entry. That was so hard to write because I didn't want my situation to be true. Even though I felt at peace about what would happen with the baby, I worried about Craig and how he was dealing with everything as well as his travel back, and worried also about my mom, Craig's parents, and Madison with the other losses still being so fresh. I prayed for each of them and then drifted off into a light sleep, thankful that at least for one more night I had reason to hope.