Not, "Oh, I'm having a few contractions let's go to the hospital to have it checked out" kind of labor, but full-blown labor. My contractions were 5 minutes apart and getting more painful as the minutes passed. I was terrified of the circumstances, knowing full well that I was only 33 weeks along and most likely if this labor wasn't coming on fast enough, my doctor would prevent it from happening. And please, please understand, I didn't want to give up that quick. I knew darn well that Jackson needed at least one more week until we were truly safe from weeks in the NICU, but I was also scared of what may happen when I got to the hospital, seeing as this would be the second time my labor would be stopped.
When we got there, my contractions were 3 minutes apart. I got into triage quick and was hooked up to monitors and had my IV in before I could blink. When they checked me, I was 5 cm and going fast, with my contractions now only 2 and a half minutes apart. The nurses called the on-call doctor and came back with the news - my delivery was, at most, 2 hours away and they wanted to try to stop it again. This time, it wouldn't be as easy as a few shots that would affect me for only a few hours or a night in the hospital, it would be a run-in with one of the most brutal labor stopping medicines - magnesium sulfate. With tears in my eyes, I agreed to try and stop my labor, wanting to give Jackson the best chance at arriving without breathing tubes and IVs.
The moment they injected me with the magnesium, my veins felt as if they were on fire. They turned the temperature in the room down to 55 degrees and I was still sweating. I could no longer see straight and it took some strong anti-nausea medicine to keep me from getting sick. My body thrashed with pain from the contractions that didn't stop immediately and from the effects of such a high dose of magnesium sulfate. After a few hours, they gave me more anti-nausea medicine and some pain killers and tried to have my body relax.
The contractions only spaced out to 8-10 minutes apart and have been that way since early that following Saturday morning. I don't remember Saturday because I was still on so many different medicines to keep me from getting sick. I had an hour long ultrasound to assess Jackson's development, numerous visits from the on-call doctor and visits from NICU to discuss what may happen if Jackson was born severely underdeveloped. I couldn't comprehend any of what I was being told and I received no encouragement from the nursing staff at the hospital. By Monday, my dose of magnesium was lowered just a touch, but I still could not see straight and needed medicine to keep me from getting sick.
This lasted until Friday. In those seven days, my body went into labor again twice. It was stopped twice. My doses were raised and then lowered. I couldn't leave the bed, even to use the restroom. I lost all dignity as I needed constant help with bed pans and even the most simple movements. My muscles seemed to deteriorate and I suffered from severe chest pain and dizziness. I couldn't be around little Jimmy for more than a few minutes before needing to get medicine to help with the sickness and I had a drug induced sleep every night. No matter how painful the contractions, the nurses just insisted on more drugs. They never offered words of encouragement or understanding; instead, they bombarded me with judgment for not being able to handle the effects of the medicine. I was told numerous times that I needed to stick it out for the baby, endure as much of the sickness as possible, and basically tough it out. I did my best. I made a goal to stick to the magnesium until I hit 34 weeks, and I did just that. I asked to have it taken out and was granted my wish. I was then told most likely my body would go straight into labor.
We waited. It took 24 hours for me to regain my full, non-dizzy vision and be able to eat again. By that point, I was eating only one meal a day, if that, and struggling to get through a day without bursting into tears and losing it. On top of it all, I had one nurse tell me her thoughts on my plans to have more kids and also inform me that most likely my "poor" decision to get pregnant again so quick was what caused all this to happen. I could hear nurses talk about me in the halls and how my decision to come off the magnesium wasn't a good one.
I stuck it out for seven days, not thinking I would make it past the first few hours. I wanted the best for Jackson and couldn't bear the thought of him being in a NICU. My OBGYN gave me horrifying scenarios of Jackson being in the NICU for 6-8 weeks, having brain bleeds, and the potential of cerebral palsy. NICU came in and informed me these were all false scenarios and there is always the chance a baby can come out early and have no problems at all. They encouraged me to hit the 34 week mark and then allow myself to be free from the magnesium, informing me that it actually can cause harm to the baby after a certain point. This was something none of the nurses or doctors let me in on.
The weekend post-magnesium came and went. No baby. Contractions, yes, but baby, no. I was allowed to shower and take a wheelchair ride. My appetite returned, as did my sense of humor and personality. I wasn't me on the medicine. During that horrific 9 days we had the amazing support of family to get us through. I will never be able to thank our families enough for taking little Jimmy and caring for him so well. And my mom, who spent every single day and evening with me until I fell asleep. She gave me sponge baths, helped me hone the art of the bed pan, and stood up to nurses who dealt out judgment when it wasn't warranted. I have never felt so loved and cared for in my life. Morgan and Dayna came to visit during the week and brightened my spirits. Looking back, I'm a little disappointed in other friends who never even acknowledged my hospital stay. I guess when life deals you a tough hand, you truly see who cares for you.
But now, I'm home. Many think I'm absolutely crazy for wanting to leave the hospital, but no one knows my body and baby better than me. I'm now able to sleep without interruption and I have 24 hour supervision. I stay put on the couch or in my bed and have the true joy of watching my little boy waddle around the house and play. I've been showered in kisses and hugs since my return, and I know God is watching over Jackson in a BIG way. And we're prepared for the moment when my body decides to go into labor. We're ready. I'm still dilated to 5 cm and about ready to pop, but every day is a day better for Jackson. At this point, a NICU may not even be necessary for more than a few hours.
I'm sure some think I'm weak for complaining about the effects of the magnesium and I should have just sucked it up and done what was right for my baby. But I did. I made a goal and stuck with it. One on-call doctor admitted that I really didn't need it for more than 48 hours because I had steroid shots and technically, looking at Jackson's development, he's about 2 weeks ahead of where he would be without the steroids.
If you haven't been on magnesium sulfate, it's really hard to explain how difficult it is. Your body is taken over by something you can't explain and you completely lose yourself. I'm still learning how to use my legs just to walk to the restroom. I've never loved showering more and I'm never going to take being able to have freedom to move around for granted.
But, we did it. Jackson and I made a pact to get to 34 weeks and we did it. Now, when he decides to make his appearance, we know he'll be much safer.
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