Room With a View?

Monday July 29 started with a phone call just before 9:00am from my new OB. My room was booked, no rush to check in as long as it is today. I took my sweet time packing, Wade walked the dog and the last brunch was had at Cora's. 

I was shown around the room, my washroom and the kitchen. Tagged three times with ID, allergies and the lab note that I've been blood typed and cross matched. I had my first experience with a fetal monitor, which showed that the Ninja (as we now call her) was doing well. Wade took the day off and spent it in an uncomfortable chair.

My room has a southeastern view of downtown and the parking lot. It is dry as a bone in here and super hot in the morning. I have no roommate which is totally awesome. The washroom has stalls assigned to each of the two adjoining rooms and strict signage stating it's for patients only. No men. No outside fluids allowed. The shower is small. But the water pressure is stronger than a mouse peeing on you and the temperature is good.

Once settled, the parade of doctors begins. It starts with a first year resident. Young and shitting her pants. She lacks confidence but I attribute that to the fact that she has been on this rotation for less than a month. Her head is probably overloaded with information and she is trying to make sure she doesn't miss anything. The second resident is in one of his later years. He's overly keen and continues to search the ceiling for his answers. Both are going to be awesome doctors, though it is very hard for me not to mess with them. What I do is ask anyone who comes to my room if I am allowed to leave for weekends or to go across the street to the Keg. Consistently, I am told no. 

The next morning I have my first in-hospital ultrasound. The reviews on the pictures are that they are "scary" and the neonatologist actually said "wow". She also shed some light on my new due date. They usually deliver between 34-36 weeks via Caesarean section or when their nerves can no longer handle what they are seeing. Under no circumstances am I to go into any form of labour and given the location of the placenta and the fetal vessels, one drop of blood is a dire emergency because there is no way of telling who the blood belongs to. "So, no Keg then?"  They are slowly starting to get my sense of humour.

The next doctor who visits us is a neonatology fellow. So he's a legit doctor, who I call Dr Doom and Gloom, with the goal of being a neonatologist. He starts off strong by stating that as of 30 weeks our baby has a 94% chance of survival. This number will go up with each additional week she bakes. He failed to state the stat improvement with each week. But then he started in on the complications of a preemie. They range from eye issues, feeding issues, breathing issues, brain development issues to brain hemorrhage and death. Not to mention a lengthy stay in the NICU. I watch Wade gradually change to a paler colour. I keep all of these things in mind and make note of when 34 weeks will be on the calendar. He leaves and I start trying to make Wade feel better. It's good to know the worst case scenario, but better to focus more on best case while keeping the expectations low.

All I have to do now is sit back, rest, relax and wait. And grow a baby.

At week 30 and she is 2.12lb. Only 3 more to go to get her into her fancy car seat.