I thought about calling my doctor, but wasn't really alarmed until I spoke to a teacher friend of mine who was incredibly concerned. She and her sister-in-law have both had pre-term labor and this is the first symptom, so she urged me to call right away. I went to work, putting in a call to both the 24-hour nurse line (they told me to call my doctor, but his office doesn't open until 8:30) and then my doctor. A few hours went by and my cramps, while subsiding greatly, were still intermittent throughout the morning.
During second period, I received a phone call from Dr. Henderson. I had to silence the phone (I was teaching, after all!) and call him back the second break started. His message did not comfort me in the least, as it intimated that I was in grave danger. Greeeeat.
Because he was in a room with a patient, Dr. Henderson asked the nurse to keep me on hold, as he needed to speak with me as soon as possible (did I mention the grave danger part?). The minutes ticked by as I watched the clock tensely, knowing that the bell was due to ring any time. As the bell rang, I heard his voice on the other end. Can we all say, "Murphy's Law?" Oy vey.
He was all business: you're checking into labor and delivery immediately. We don't mess with pains like these, especially after you've told me that the pain wasn't very extreme.
Okay. Here are immediate thoughts in my head: Uh...I've got a room full of students streaming in and no sub to speak of. I also have bitchin' lesson plans with awesome amounts of technology--both of which are so much better when delivered by moi, rather than a sub. Oh
well. I gotta do what I gotta do.
I called the office and freaked the hell out of our amazing secretary, who informed me that the administrators were conveniently off-site and that she'd find someone with third period prep to send down to my room as soon as possible. Enter Debi Storing, my savior, who enabled me to call/text my husband to come get me and mother-in-law to come bail me out of my classroom until a sub could show up. I have an awesome local support system, don't I?
I'm going to bypass a lot of this, as it gets somewhat monotonous. Let me break it down. Keith and I spent over four hours in the Labor and Delivery ward where I was hooked to monitors for both the baby's heartbeat and my contractions (of which there were none). Finally, after a urinary infection test (negative) and a shot to relax my uterus, we were sent home to rest all weekend. In other news--Ali came up early; hospital nachos were eaten; her hair was shorn a bit more than she may have liked, but it was cheaper than $300.
They sent me home for lots of rest and water (that's a theme here, so get used to it) and told me to call my doctor if the symptoms continued. On both Friday and Saturday nights, that's just what happened. So, I called on Sunday and Dr. H told me to report to his office at 9 a.m. the next day. Fast forward to sub plans and a ton of tests (all of which turned out GREAT!) and you've got my three-hour appointment. I was told to go home and call if the cramps returned.
I drove home by way of Yogurt Mania!, my fave fro-yo shop. As I pulled out of the parking lot with my tasty treat in the cup holder, cramp #1 hit. Pulling onto our street, cramp #2 surfaced. Fun times. More followed, and this morning, more yet. I put in a call to Dr. H, per his instruction, and was directed once again to the L & D ward for the FFN (fetal fibronectin test). Keith, bless his heart, picked me up and drove me there while I tried to hide the fact that I was quivering like a cold chihuahua inside. Even though I bet him $5 that the test would be negative, I was still nervous that I might be experiencing some strange pre-term labor thing. Lo and behold, after sharing three hours and a passable lunch of hospital roast beef, we heard the news: negative. The doctor's official instructions: drink more water. No, I'm not kidding.
So here I sit, two cramps later (I'm tracking them), wondering what the hell this all means. It's annoying and frustrating, but I guess we're doing all we can to keep the princess safely encased in my warm little womb.
