1st Edition - EMMA HOPE NEWSLETTER
And you thought reading People
magazine was exciting...
Since things are getting hectic exponentially as we approach the finish line, I
figured a regular mass e-mail would be logical.
Yesterday, Amy and I (and Emma) got our first ride as a family in an ambulance.
The day started out like any other day for us, with a routine visit to the OB/GYN's
office for our twice-weekly NST. A Non-Stress-Test measures the baby's
heartrate and Amy's uterine contractions. Like all of the others, the test went
very well. Emma appeared to vary from periods of sleep or rest and periods of
high activity with the corresponding high heartrate. Amy showed a nice flat
line, representing no uterine contractions. With our consent, the doctor did an
internal exam to see if Amy was dilated. For the first time, Amy was dilated -
the doctor said that she was about 1 cm, which was certainly not cause for
alarm.
It was however, cause for at least minimal concern, as the doctor stated that
women with their first child should not be dilated at all at this stage of the
pregnancy. Since we were coming back on Thursday for another routine visit, the
doctor sent us on our way with a smile. I dropped Amy off at her mom's, and I
went to the shop. (www.bristoldyno.com
for those of you that aren't supporting your family member by visiting the site
at least once per day.)
Speaking of the shop, Bristol Dyno now carries over 200 high performance product
lines, and you won't find a lower price anywhere. Not all of the lines are for
hot-rodders, either - we also carry truck accessories such as bedliners, and
storage racks from Thule - and I won't be happy until everyone in the family has
a Bristol Dyno-supplied nitrous oxide system in their vehicles.
Anyway - after an hour or so of sitting on my butt and watching the traffic go
by, I got a phone call. I don't remember if the first call was from Amy or her
mom, but she said that Amy was bleeding a little, and that she called the
doctor. The doctor was supposed to call back in 10 minutes. I told her to call
me back as soon as the doctor called. 5 minutes later, Amy's mom calls up
screaming hysterically. Amy was bleeding a lot more and they had called 911.
An ambulance was on its way. I closed up the shop and drove carefully over,
obeying all of the posted traffic regulations. A police car was there and two
policemen were inside. As if there was any doubt, I had beaten the ambulance.
Amy was on the living room floor on her side, screaming and crying, an oxygen
mask supplied by the policemen in front of her face. Her mom was frantic. In
the distance, an annoying little dog barked. I called her OB/GYN and managed to
get the doctor promptly. While I was on the phone, the ambulance arrived, and
two very professional EMTs rushed in and started to care for Amy. The doctor on
the phone told me to tell the EMTs to take Amy directly to the Labor & Delivery
dept. in the hospital, and that she would meet us there. Within minutes, Amy
and I were in the ambulance and on our way. Although the ride was painfully
slow at times, it probably wasn't that bad for the typical passenger that hasn't
exceeded every posted speed limit by at least 80 mph. In the driver's defense,
most of the other motorists out there appeared to suffer from complete brain
shutdowns as they heard the siren, and he had to slow down on the rather bumpy,
curvaceous route as his partner administered Amy's IV line.
It did only take us a few minutes to get to the hospital, and only a minute
after that to take the brand new elevator up to Labor & Delivery. Within
seconds of arriving in the room, Amy was once again hooked up to the machine,
and Emma's heartbeat soon echoed throughout the room. Even with the good news,
it took quite a while for Amy to calm down. As always, I was an emotional rock,
perpetually the bane of cute nurses everywhere. When we first arrived, Emma's
heartrate was certainly a little on the high side, with long-lasting peaks over
180 bpm. As Amy calmed, so did she, and within a few minutes, she leveled off
at around 140 bpm. Amy's uterine contraction line was also surprisingly flat,
but...(it's still early.)
The doctor showed up soon after and examined Amy, and we were treated to what
was probably our 20th ultrasound test. To make what is turning into a very long
story a little shorter - it looks like the placenta is a little low, and the
internal exam from that morning caused the excessive bleeding. Amy showed no
more fresh blood after she arrived at the hospital, and Emma showed no
indications of being in harm's way. Like I said before, though - it was still
early. They decided to keep us there for a while to monitor everybody - and,
wouldn't you know it - Amy's uterine contraction line started showing the
telltale bumps. I'm getting tired, so I'm going to wrap this up. They kept us
there overnight as they medicated Amy and kept the IV flowing, and they
discharged us in the morning with a prescription for medicine that Amy can take
if she feels any contractions at home.
So I guess the story has a good ending. Other than the emotional trauma, the
worst thing that happened is Amy had to suffer the indignity of peeing in a bed
pan, and until I gained the courage to disobey the nurses and sleep on an unused
hospital bed - I had to spend a few hours on one of those freakishly
uncomfortable vinyl fold-out chairs they keep to punish husbands that smile at
cute nurses.
Jonathan
P.S. Amy just took her second anti-contraction pill because she was starting to
have some pains again. I sure hope the 2nd edition of the EMMA HOPE NEWSLETTER
doesn't come out too soon...