Last night was one of the scariest nights for us so far.
Too tired to write right now but I wanted to document this part of our journey so I asked Fatty to take dictation from me. Here’s what happened last night:
1) Went into the bathroom to pee when I wiped fresh blood came off the tissue paper in gushes.
2) We called the nurses who immediately transferred me to the labour room.
3) I also started having contractions which were coming at intervals of every 4-5 minutes. They put me on a new blood pressure drug which also works to stop contractions. I was in premature labor.
4) One hour later the medicine slowed down the contractions a bit but not enough. By then, they were coming every 10 minutes.
5) Got injected with steroids in case the contractions couldn’t be stopped and Fighter had to come out in the next couple of days. Steroids is a way to accelerate the development of the baby’s lungs.
6) When the medicine didn’t work to bring down the contractions, they decided to sedate me to relax my whole body and hopefully also relax my uterine muscles and stop the contractions. This was at 6AM.
7) I passed out until late today and thankfully by the time I woke up the bleeding and contractions had both stopped *throws confetti*.
8) The bleeding is suspected to be from a marginal placental abruption, which means that the placenta is bleeding or tore away from my uterus wall a bit. So the next step is to just delay Fighter’s delivery until the second steroid injection is administered, which is tonight. After that whenever my body goes into labour again, we won’t fight it, and I will deliver Fighter.
I asked Fatty to help me update my blog with this but he came back with a letter to me instead. He seems in the mood for writing letters after he wrote one to Fighter yesterday on his blog. I asked him if he’s okay to publish it and he said ok so here it is.
The past 12 days have been difficult. I know we expected that the road to having kids wouldn’t be an easy one for us, but I’m sure neither of us imagined we would be tested so hard. I have a confession though and since I’m to embarrassed to tell you myself, maybe I’ll just write you.
You see while the past 12 days have been difficult, the past 24 hours had been one of the toughest for me. I knew that from the moment you told us you had vaginal bleeding that it wasn’t going to be an easy night but I was prepared. Every day I remind myself how difficult this must be to you and so I push myself to be that rock of support that you need.
So when there was blood, I stayed calm and called the nurses in. When they tested you and found out that you were in labour, I told you not to worry because there will be ways to slow it down. When you were worried that there won’t be enough time to administer the steroids to accelerate the development of Fighter’s lungs, I confidently brushed it off and said there will be. And when they finally gave you the injection, I squeezed both your hands with mine so that you would know I’m with you.
By the time I reached home that night I was so tired I was walking into walls. I couldn’t sleep though. I was up for a long time, eager for tomorrow to come so I could go to see our Doctor and ask her what was going on.
The next morning when I walked into your room you were fast asleep. The nurse had told me they had sedated you to bring down the contractions and you would be asleep until noon. I saw an eyelid of yours move when I came in so I knew you were awake, You then mumbled, telling me that you had been sedated. I sat around for a while then I decided that since you were asleep I would go to work first and come back 6 hours later when you were awake. But before I left I had to see our Doctor.
So while you were asleep I walked across to our Doctor’s clinic. I will always remember the look she had on her face when I walked in. It was a look of worry. For the first time throughout this episode she looked worried. She went on to tell me how the bleeding was from a part of your placenta and that’s what caused your body to go into labour. That she had managed to slow it down so we have time for the steroid injections to take effect but the situation was unpredictable. She was sure we wouldn’t last another 4 weeks as we had planned and even at 30 weeks, Fighter is way too premature but at least we managed to hold it off for two weeks. The only thing we could do… was pray. I thanked her… grateful that we had such a good caring Doctor during this difficult time and left her clinic.
It had began to drizzle when I started walking to my car in the open-air car park. I knew I was supposed to go to the office but my mind was all over the place. For the first time throughout this episode I felt like there was nothing I could do to make this better. No amount of money, no amount of time I spent with you, no amount of research and no amount of medical care could make this situation any better.
Then as I sat in my car my Father called. He asked me what was wrong with you and in my car in that open-air car park I broke down and cried. For the first time in many many years I cried, not just man tears or anything but the faggoty “uhuk uhuk” crying you hate seeing other guys do (Fuckin pussy… I hate myself for that). I didn’t know what else to do and how else to help you. I spent the next 10 minutes in the car trying to compose myself.
After I pulled myself together I decided that I didn’t want to go anywhere else. I didn’t want to run away from the problem. So I got out my car and walked back into the hospital. I’m glad I did, because when I got to your bedside again you whispered that you were hungry but was too weak to eat or call for help. So I had the chance to help you up and feed you.
When I think back now I realize now why I had that moment of weakness. As much as you often tell me how I am a rock to you, the truth is… even in this difficult time you are a rock to me too. And this morning when you were sedated I felt like I had lost you. That I was all alone.
If there is one thing good that I feel this experience has brought us is that it has tested our relationship and got me to understand how we depend on each other in so many ways. How I rely on your strengths just as much as you rely on mine.
I told Dad and Mum today over dinner…. that somehow, after going through this experience… I feel that I love you even more.
Skinny (Or Fatty…. poh-tay-toh poh-tah-toh what’s the difference?)