Update on pre-term labour

So my sister is hanging in there, but it has been very rough going. She was on the magnesium sulfate, but she started having 4 minute long contractions, not frequently, but the baby’s heart would decel badly during them.

So they put her on procardia, and she started having contractions 2 minutes apart.

So they put her back on the mag sulfate, but she had chest pain and another long contraction. So they put her on something else I didn’t get repeated ’cause I’m tired of Googling. So now she’s down to contractions every 5 minutes. 3.5 cm dilated. She has been in this state, with this up and down stuff, since Monday evening. I am so sad for her. It is wonderful what science has wrought by way of possibly lifesaving interventions, but the physical, gruelling aspect of these particular ones on her are pretty awful.

I would be lying if I didn’t confess that when I heard about the decels, it wrecked me for a bit. (I still wanted to know, if said sister ever reads this.) I think despite my knowledge of preemies and all, I had simply not allowed myself to think that her baby might die until I heard of the dread decels. And then I had irrational anger that when her baby had decels people ran in the room and Did Something.

By the way, the baby seems to be doing very well. She’s just, you know, under 2 lbs at best estimate, and not ready to be born into this world. My sister has managed to get 60 hours past her first steroid shot, at least, but it would be good to keep going.

I had a really good flashback to labour – so good, although mercifully brief, that I should go on a tour about PTSD and how yes, the body does remember.

I kind of feel burnt entirely at this point. It’s been a real juggling act this year between my health, my job, my son, my house, and my “life” – including finding a wee little space to be multiple, to be real, and so on.

It seems like this latest round of experiences – bad, bad bleeding miscarriage; sister in a horrendous pre-term labour that hits my Emily buttons – is doing my balance in a bit. Well I’m up anxious at midnight, so that’s a clue. But it’s also that I’m feeling a lack of reserves, like our life doesn’t really give us the space to rejuvenate. I’m thinking what to do about that.

And mostly just holding my thumbs for my sister. Soon she’ll have been having this horrid experience longer than Emily was alive, and the strange thing is that the hope is that she’ll keep having it in the sense that the baby stays put. I may just fly down at some point. But then of course it will be a huge issue at work.