My Summer Kick-off in the Hospital

Warning: Pee ahead. Reader discretion is advised. If you are squeamish about urine, go here.

Last week when I went to my check-up they found protein in my pee and my blood pressure was up a little. It wasn't super high, but it was high for me. So my doctor ran a urinalysis to rule out kidney/bladder problems and figure out what was going on. The test came out positive for protein and white blood cells, which could have indicated a few things, primarily either a bladder/kidney infection or pre-eclampsia, both of which can cause serious complications (or not). So they ordered a culture. The problem was that it was Friday, this was just a regular doctor's office, and they wouldn't have the results in until at least Monday. So I was told to wait the weekend out and to call labor and delivery if I started to develop new symptoms, like more severe pain, fever, vomiting, etc. Hence the freak-out. By Monday I was feeling okay, emotionally and physically. I was told to drink at least 64 oz. of water a day, which I was doing, and then some. The problem was that while I was drinking a lake of water a day, I wasn't peeing much. Wednesday night was bad. I was feeling terrible, having random contractions, and generally having a miserable time of it. I was wanting Thursday to come because it was the last day of school and Matt's and my first date in ages, and I felt like if I could just make it through that one more day I would start to feel better. So I went to work, but I emailed my doctor in the morning to let her know how I was feeling, just in case. I made it through the work day (but not without slipping in a puddle and twisting my ankle just enough to make it hurt but not enough to actually do damage). After work I went to the staff party, not feeling great, but relieved to be finished and feeling okay enough to socialize for an hour. My doctor called within 15 minutes to tell me that she'd read my email and was concerned about not peeing after all the water I was drinking, and that I needed to call labor and delivery to be triaged. So I slipped into a bedroom and called. I explained my symptoms, and she looked at my record that showed the tests from last week (the cultures had never come back). Then she told me to go immediately to labor and delivery.

Now, I know that a trip to L&D doesn't automatically mean having a baby. But I also know that it's also a bigger deal than just going to the doctor. I also know that the last time I was told to go into L&D for monitoring, I actually had a baby. So I tried (quite unsuccessfully) to put on my brave face, not be a crybaby, and exit the party without ruining it. I ran into a couple people while I went back to get my purse, and quietly told them I had to go in to the hospital for monitoring, but please don't say anything because I don't want to make it a big deal. I called my step-dad and asked him if he could leave work and meet me at home to watch Ben, which he immediately and graciously did, and I called Matt. I picked up Ben, feeling terrible at this point because I ran out on a party that involved saying good-bye to two co-workers without saying anything, and now I was whisking Ben away from his last day at daycare with no good-bye hugs and thank-you's. Also, I'd run out with a random slice of pizza because I'd just grabbed it when the phone rang and I didn't want to just leave it there or throw it away, but now I had no idea what to do with it. But that's neither here nor there.

When I got home Matt and Curt were already there. I handed a screaming Ben off, and Matt and I went to the hospital. They put me on fetal monitors, and took a blood sample, my blood pressure, and a urine sample. Then we waited. For three hours. They gave me a gigantic cup of water, which I named Big Carl, in case I was dehydrated. I drank two Big Carls and a juice box. And I peed about a thousand times. My nurse's name was Cindy, and she was reasonably nice, except for making me drink two Big Carls.

The end result was a bit fuzzy, but I think (?) good. Well, I got to leave with my baby still in my belly, which was good. But the journey is far from over. The tests came out good, but just to rule out any bladder/kidney issues for good I have the pleasure of peeing in a jug for the next 24 hours and keeping it in my fridge. Actually, to be more specific, I have to pee in a plastic hat that sits inside the toilet, then pour it into the jug, then keep it in my fridge. Matt and I have named the jug and hat Hall & Oates. The good news is that if this last test comes out well, it means my urinary tract is good to go (hahahaha...that ended up being a pun). The bad news is that that means I have pre-eclampsia (pregnancy-induced hypertension, or high blood pressure). Technically my blood pressure does not match the numbers they usually look for, but because my blood pressure tends to run pretty low, where it is now is pretty high for me. So...what this all means...

1. It's a good thing yesterday was my last day at work because if it wasn't they probably would have made me go on bed rest, and it would have been my last day at work whether I liked it or not.
2. There's a jug of pee in my fridge for the next 24 hours.
3. I have a prescription for antacids because my heartburn/reflux is out of control (potentially a side effect of the pre-eclampsia).
4. I need to be carefully monitored for the rest of my pregnancy.
5. I have to get a lot of rest. Hahahahaha.
6. I could very well make it to my due date and have a healthy little girl. Or, if with lots of rest and monitoring things get worse, Miss Emma will come sooner.

So that's the update. Matt took today off because I'm pretty wiped from yesterday, and I can't do much but hang with Hall and Oates. I'm glad it's summer, but I feel like I haven't really been able to let that set in and enjoy it yet. So hopefully my jug of pee will test well, and I'll start to feel better soon.

Because seriously, I'm over the drama. If she's this much trouble before she's even out of the oven, I fear for us all during adolescence...