I really don't wanna do this. But Maryn deserves it.
Woke up to Doc H coming in for"the" exam. Fun! And it even included cotton swabs since there was so much blood. Then things started happening so fast I don't know what happened first. I got an IV and catheter quickly. They tipped my bed about 30* so I was on my head, so to speak. I was ordered to not get up AT ALL. FOR ANY REASON. Doc H was at my right side. I was basically fully dialated and effaced. She could see Punkin's feet. I chuckled. So not the appropriate thing to do, because deep down I KNEW that was bad, really bad. I guess it was one of those nervous reactions. Plus, it ment that Punkin was still hanging in there. For the time being, SHE was ok.
But would that last? Doc H was very calm, but I could see the worry in her eyes. I could deliver at any moment. If my water broke, I may not even have time to call a nurse in. And it was too early. Punkin wouldn't have a chance. None.
Doc H was going to have a perinatologist come up. If she thought it was feasible, and I wanted it, they might be able to try an emergency cerclage if the inverting me made my bag of waters recede. That had a bunch of risks in and of itself, but if it worked, it might buy us enough time. I had 3 options - let nature take its course, see if just strict bedrest would do the trick, or try the surgery. I asked Doc H what she would do. She just held my hand and said "I wouldn't do what most moms would do. I know too much." To this day, I don't really understand what that ment. I do know that I trusted her. She was also going to call Doc K and update him, even though it was supposed to be his weekend off.
Neo Doc K came in to see me. Immediately, I couldn't stand him. He was giving me the most awful news. If Punkin was born now, there was nothing they could do. We would just hold her and keep her comfortable until she died. If they even tried, she'd be in too much pain. That was the LAST thing I wanted. God forbid I lose my daughter, but just the thought of putting her through useless pain just to ease mine was sheer torture. I can't even put my feelings at that point into words. I hated him for saying all of this. I hated the pregnant people across the hall. I hated the nurses for not being able to do anything. I hated myself for not doing something different. I hated everyone.
If we could get to 23 weeks gestation, her chances weren't good, but she might have one. Most babies born at that point have serious, sometimes life-long problems. If Neo Doc K felt that the parents understood what that ment, he would try to save the baby. If we could make it to 24 weeks, that was better. Every single minute counted. One minute, one hour, one day, could make all the difference for the life of my daughter. Dear God, please just let me get to 23 weeks.
Perinatologist Doc F came in and examined me. It wasn't looking good. She again gave me my options. What was I supposed to do? Why delay the inevitable? But I had to give my baby girl a chance. I couldn't just give up on her. On us both. I said no to "nature." I said no to "wait and see." When she mentioned that we might be able to just terminate the pregnancy since she wasn't viable, I got angry. I told her that while I realize she might be legally required to tell me that, she was NEVER to mention that around me again. Period. I am pro-life. In all cases. This just strengthened my belief.
So we were going to cross our fingers and pray that we both made it to tomorrow morning. If we did, they'd try the surgery. I refused to be alone. If she was born and died before the morning, I needed some other person to be able to recognize that she was here. That she existed.
In hind-sight, I realize that no one thought we'd make it through the day. Every single medical person who came in had that look of doom on their face. Pity? Maybe. "I'm so glad it's not me?" Definitely. I can't blame them, but it was so awful. I was completely alone. I had failed. My 3rd time trying to become a mom, and I screwed this one up too. I was letting everyone down. David, my parents, my sisters, Jaime, but most of all my Punkin. Why was I doing this to her? I doubt I'll ever have that answer, and I doubt I'll ever be able to forgive myself.