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My water broke yesterday at 21 weeks; far too early for a fetus to really be viable. We stayed overnight in the hospital and got sent home this morning because labor didn't progress and I'm not showing signs of infection so far. We've got an appointment with a perinatologist tomorrow afternoon where we'll see if there is any amniotic fluid around him. If there is any fluid, that may mean that his membrane could be sealing itself, and we'll have to play it by ear day by day with me on bedrest until the actual onset of labor, which could occur at any time.
This is an extreme long shot since there was no fluid left at all last night and it seems to have been not just a leak, but a pretty severe rupture. The more likely and devastating reality is that there will be no amniotic fluid and we will be left to decide whether we want to come home and let labor begin naturally or get admitted and induce labor and deliver tomorrow. The almost guaranteed outcome of either of those options is making the choice of what to do with the baby's remains.
So far my contractions have all but stopped, which is a positive, but fetal movement is fleeting, which is a heartbreaking negative. The baby had been excessively active for weeks and not feeling him except for tiny moments when I have to question whether it was him or gas is ... fucked up. I am one of those crazy people that revels in being pregnant, and this is two for two that I've had my chance to carry to term taken away. I am unbelievably fortunate to have a nine year-old NICU graduate born at 26 weeks gestation and I feel pretty confident in the capabilities of modern neonatal care. However, the weeks between 21 and 26, or even 24, are the critical ones, and we're preparing ourselves for the worst while trying to stay positive and focus on getting through the night and to tomorrow's appointment.
The sliver of hope is small and fleeting, but Ian and I are determined to let our son fight the good fight. If he can MacGyver his membranes back together somehow and we see some accumulation of amniotic fluid in tomorrow's ultrasound and I continue to remain infection free, I will keep my ass on bedrest and let him fight. We'll know more tomorrow and are being as realistic as possible, while still being hopeful enough to at least ask for and listen to any options that the professionals have to offer before making the best decision for our family. But these are decisions that I keep telling myself that nobody should ever have to make.
This is an extreme long shot since there was no fluid left at all last night and it seems to have been not just a leak, but a pretty severe rupture. The more likely and devastating reality is that there will be no amniotic fluid and we will be left to decide whether we want to come home and let labor begin naturally or get admitted and induce labor and deliver tomorrow. The almost guaranteed outcome of either of those options is making the choice of what to do with the baby's remains.
So far my contractions have all but stopped, which is a positive, but fetal movement is fleeting, which is a heartbreaking negative. The baby had been excessively active for weeks and not feeling him except for tiny moments when I have to question whether it was him or gas is ... fucked up. I am one of those crazy people that revels in being pregnant, and this is two for two that I've had my chance to carry to term taken away. I am unbelievably fortunate to have a nine year-old NICU graduate born at 26 weeks gestation and I feel pretty confident in the capabilities of modern neonatal care. However, the weeks between 21 and 26, or even 24, are the critical ones, and we're preparing ourselves for the worst while trying to stay positive and focus on getting through the night and to tomorrow's appointment.
The sliver of hope is small and fleeting, but Ian and I are determined to let our son fight the good fight. If he can MacGyver his membranes back together somehow and we see some accumulation of amniotic fluid in tomorrow's ultrasound and I continue to remain infection free, I will keep my ass on bedrest and let him fight. We'll know more tomorrow and are being as realistic as possible, while still being hopeful enough to at least ask for and listen to any options that the professionals have to offer before making the best decision for our family. But these are decisions that I keep telling myself that nobody should ever have to make.
