Superbowl Sunday (also known as My Birthday)

February 1, 2009 = 29 weeks gestation.

In true John fashion, we HAD to have a Superbowl party. I mean, I'm sure it was 100% because it was my birthday and the football game was secondary...yeah, right! We had a "Fried Food Frenzy," with guests who were classmates in our respective graduate programs. It was a pregnant lady's dream...fried pickles, french fries, onion rings, chicken wings, etc. Everyone brought their favorite food to fry, and we had quite the variety of interesting and new treats.

About 20 minutes into the party I mentioned to John that I felt funny. I wasn't feeling contractions, just some weird pressure "down there." John demanded I go to Gritman right way...actually, it was after he told me I was NOT going to have an early baby. I resisted, hating the be "that pregnant lady" who is at the hospital for every funny feeling, but after talking to my mom and even waiting an hour after she told me to go in (sorry, mom), I gave in and had a friend take me so that John could continue being the chef (or fryer boy), and so he would have the ability to come to the hospital should he need to. I was sure this was all a false alarm.

When I got to Gritman they hooked me up to the monitor, and again I was contracting every 4 minutes. The only difference, this time I was already on Procardia and it was apparently not working this time. I was given the three shots of Tributilene (my pharmacist mother is cringing over my pharmacological spelling) and instead of stopping the contractions, it acted like Pitocin and increased them to 2-3 minutes apart, and then 1-2 minutes. The nurses called the on-call Doctor, who just happened to be in the same practice as my Doctor so he knew all about me, and he tore himself away from the game to come check on me.

When he got there he did an ultrasound and checked my cervix. The ultrasound showed significant funnelling (not good!), and I was 70% effaced and a fingertip dilated! He called the hospitalist OB at Sacred Heart and informed him of my condition. Together they decided that because of the progress I had made and the fact I was only 29 weeks, I needed to be at Sacred Heart in Spokane ASAP in case this progressed into active labor. I was hooked up to Magnesium Sulfate (more on that later!) and air lifted to Sacred Heart via airplane. Oh, at some point during the chaos I managed to call John and let him know what was going on. He and Carter came to the hospital just as the Doctor was informing me that I had secured myself a trip to Spokane. John left immediately to try and beat me up there. ( I won, though!)