I’m still here. I haven’t gotten online much lately, due to several things. First, the MIL was here (lots of stories from that visit tomorrow), then fun medical stuff came up, and then Harry Potter got here. I’d love to spoil the book for everyone, but I’ll be nice. I just can’t see how anybody who has actually read it could claim it’s paganistic, though; the Christian parallels are obvious. Those crazy Christian groups need to do their research before going to such extremes to discredit a book.
Anyway, I’ll let you all know about the medical stuff first, since I know you’re probably somewhat anxious about it. It started with the doctor’s appointment Thursday. It didn’t seem like it would be any big deal, except perhaps for the MIL intruding too much. The doc prescribed a cream for my itchy, rashy belly (which is working, by the way). When she asked about how the Braxton-Hicks were, though, I couldn’t give a satisfactory answer. After all, stress makes them worse, and I’d just spent the last two days with my MIL. She was worried enough that she wanted to do everything possible to make sure matters don’t get worse without interfering with my life. In other words, no bedrest or anything. But she wants to see me every week from here until the end. She also wants to put me on medicine to help control the contractions. I’m not at all opposed to the idea, especially after seeing how bad it was from Wednesday night until yesterday afternoon (coincidentally enough, when the MIL left).
The problem is that the terbutaline she wants to prescribe has some uncomfortable side effects. The doctor would rather have me on some patch thing that sits under my skin, giving me a steady stream of the medicine. But I have to be on some home health care system to get it, and my insurance will only qualify me for it if I meet certain specifications. One of those is a shorter cervix, so I was sent out to get an ultrasound ASAP (they can’t do that in the office).
All of Friday afternoon was spent at the ultrasound. The hospital that could get me in on Friday (when I had free childcare for PJ, thanks MIL) was ridiculously inefficient. I had an appointment at 2:15 that I was supposed to arrive half an hour early for. I didn’t get into the appointment itself until after three, and it lasted an hour and a half. The problem was that BabyN was super active and wouldn’t stay still for the tech to get a good shot. She had to try several times for every shot she needed, which was a lot apparently. Of course, the doctor’s order wasn’t specific enough to mention that all we needed was the cervical length, so I had the whole detailed thing. It took forever, while the cervical length part of it took all of five minutes. The tech was also not going to tell me anything about whether anything was normal, but I convinced her to tell me unofficially what she thought about the cervical length, and she thought it looked normal. That means I’ll probably go on the oral medicine after all and just put up with the nasty side effects. Better than another preemie anyway.
Of course, there were a few minutes where I barely held back my panic. The radiologist decided he needed a few more shots of BabyN before I left. I didn’t think it would be a big deal since BabyN had been squirming through everything and probably kept a few pictures from being very clear. But he was sleeping when the radiologist came in, and the doctor kept looking at one place in his abdomen repeatedly. Naturally, I’m trying not to freak out but wishing they would tell me what’s going on, even unofficially. I was already trying to decide whether I would want to risk another pregnancy if BabyN ended up so sick he wouldn’t make it. Then finally I got the courage to ask what was wrong.
It turns out that they couldn’t get great pictures of his kidneys, the same problem as the first ultrasound. They could see a left kidney, but not a right one. Apparently it often blends in with the other internal organs around there, like the liver and spleen, and sometimes they can’t get a good enough picture to separate the kidney from everything else. Most likely, that’s the case here. Of course we’ll be keeping an eye on things to make sure that’s the only problem, but the radiologist didn’t sound overly concerned when he was telling me. Still, I’d rather not have that complication if I could. And I really don’t want to have to go back for another ultrasound to try yet again to find this kidney. This last one was enough of a pain in the butt–although that could be partly from the presence of the MIL during all of it.