Unexpected Waiting

Monday, (yesterday) was my first Perinatologist appointment,
and his diagnosis was not what I expected. 
Jamie is not only small, he’s abnormally small, and they can’t figure
out why.   Take that back, they know
it’s caused from a placental failure, but they can’t figure out why his
placenta failed or when exactly it started shutting down.   Whatever the case, they certainly had my
full attention when they started talking about “lack of oxygen” and
“stillborn”.  The specialist gave us two
options, come in for monitoring three times a week, or have a c-section and
deliver him now.   Obviously, the longer
he can stay in me the better, (considering he wasn’t supposed to make his debut
till September) however since his placenta seems to be deteriorating so rapidly
they can’t monitor him often enough to make sure he’s actually getting oxygen
(apparently even fetus’s need oxygen to survive).   Bottom line:  Jim and I
decided to go with the c-section.  

First stop: Amniocentesis to determine whether or not his
lungs were mature.   After everybody
thoroughly freaked me out with horror stories of how awful and painful it is to
have an eight-inch needle stuck in your belly,
I didn’t think it was bad at all.
It hurt less than an I.V. and took about 15 seconds.  It felt exactly like swallowing a long
spaghetti noodle and then pulling it out (or was I the only one who did that as
a kid?)

After that I was admitted into labor and delivery where my
“no-pain” trend was broken by two blown veins and a myriad of holes in my arms
(the result of unsuccessful I.V. attempts).
All pain however was quickly outranked by my impatience.   The results of the Amnio were supposed to
take an hour or two, which slowly turned into three to four hours, which
painfully turned into five almost six hours.
I was convinced the lab building had burned down, or some geeky lab tech
had spilled his Dr. Pepper on my results… The wait was driving me insane.  I would have paced the floor or climbed
walls, but I was chained to my bed via fetal monitors and I.V’s…bleh.   The results finally came back at nine p.m.
last night.   I should have been proud
of my non-comformist son, but instead I was excessively annoyed.    The results were supposed to be “yes” or
“no” but we got “transition” instead.
Jamie’s lungs are operating somewhere in no-mans-land; not immature enough
to give him steroids, and not mature enough to be considered full-term.  The perinatologist had to be consulted
again.  However he was celebrating his
daughter’s birthday and didn’t have his pager on. (stupid doctors, don’t they
know they’re not allowed to have a life?) . 

 So here I am at Grossmont Hospital Labor and Deliver, it’s eight a.m. and nobody will give me
breakfast.   I’m supposed to have a
c-section sometime today, unless Dr Schrimmer (the perinatologist) decides to
wait for another day.  Whatever the
case, I’m stuck here for the duration.
They’re not letting me go home until I have a baby.