Clara is going to teach me to be on my toes--I know this without a doubt. The plan was that she would be receiving another 10 at her last check-in with the perinatologist because things have been going so well. That didn't happen, but she did get an 8. However, a couple of things showed up that they don't score for in the biophysical profile. Clara's blood pressure was high, she is starting to develop fluid around her little heart and (excuse my lack of medical terminology here) the umbilical cord is losing functionality, meaning oxygen isn't getting to her at 100%. The cord and the fluid around the heart are most likely related.
As I was waiting on the perinatologist to come in for her end of appointment visit with me I was quite unsuspecting. I knew the technician looked a little concerned when she was measuring the cord, as she asked me to hold my breath and they've never done that before. But still, I didn't expect the first words out of the doctors mouth to me to be about going to check in at the hospital. And at first I thought she meant just for more tests, and then the words started coming about packing, staying the weekend, delivery Monday. Woah! Wait a minute! What?! You mean I'm going to possibly have my baby after the weekend? Her response was affirmative. She explained that I would be on bed rest at the hospital where they would monitor Clara regularly to make sure she wasn't getting worse before Monday. She would receive steroid treatment so that when she did come her lungs would be more developed.
And now it's Saturday: day 3 of my long hospital stay. I've never been in a hospital this long, and it could be a lot longer. I miss being home. I miss the painting habit that I'd started. I miss my chaos maker and his older siblings. Though, Lxkas is here at the hospital with me the majority of the time, I can't be up and taking care of him like I do at home because my orders are to stay in bed, which keeps the blood/oxygen flow to Clara stronger.
And I feel bad for him. This interrupts his schedule and the lifestyle to which he's accustomed. He's worried about me. I can see it in his eyes, and when I see it I fight tears in my own. Any time a nurse or tech comes in he calls my name and runs to my side because he doesn't want them putting things on me. His daddy holds him so he can watch without interferring. How does a 20-month-old know something isn't right?
But for Clara's sake, I'm glad we're here. I'm thankful for the perinatologist, that something bad won't happen to our baby before she is born because nobody noticed. I'm thankful for my love, that he has been here by my side though it all, and took over Mommy's duties without the slightest complaint. I can see he wants to be my side, and I didn't expect that to this extent. And I'm thankful for both of our families who have been so supportive, offering to do what they can.
I'll have an ultrasound Monday. If her heart looks like the fluid is continuing to build and the cord is continuing to deteriorate, they will take her. Otherwise, she will stay in as long as she can, and I'll most likely be here at the hospital until she is born.
In the grand scheme of things, this stay is simply a small inconvenience. Priority is getting Clara here safely.
Here is a painting I had just completed before being shipped away to the hospital. Total time on it is about 3.5 hours, which is about where I want to be in my practice.
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