Call the midwife

April 11th was the day of Lorelei’s birthday party.  I spent most of that day, and the day before, on my feet.  But I was pregnant, not sick!  Little did I know.  After the party Charlotte and I went out and got dinner and had a lovely girls’ night.  We got home around 8:30 pm, and I went to the bathroom.

And that is where this story really begins.  Because I wiped and there was bright red blood.  I looked in the toilet… more blood.  I called Charlotte in and we agreed I needed to call the midwives.  The midwife said I should go in to be checked out.  So I got my neighbor to watch Lorelei, and Zach and I drove to the ER.

As I was in the wheelchair on the way up to L&D I felt a gush. But when I took off my underwear it really wasn’t as much blood as it had felt like. Then after they got me on the bed, I felt yet another gush.  I never saw how much this one was.  Zach said it looked like a lot to him.  And the doctor was definitely not happy with it.  Then the doctor said he thought he smelled amniotic fluid.  This is when I lost it and started sobbing quietly.  Because suddenly what I thought was going to be a quick ER trip suddenly seemed like it might end with the birth of our son at 29 weeks, or at the very least a diagnosis of PPROM and hospital bedrest until delivery.  The doctor also thought that I might be 2cm dilated, but he wasn’t sure if that was all the way through (bad!) or just the outer part of my cervix (potentially normal for someone who has had a baby before).  So with all these variables it was decided to transfer me to big Duke.  Regional might have been able to handle me, but Rowan wouldn’t have been able to stay there at that gestational age.  While we waited for transport they put in a catheter.  This particular catheter was exceptionally uncomfortable.

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