A Game Plan

A game plan with little chance of victory is still a game plan.

This is a continuation of my hospital days. Part 3

June 20th- June 25th, 2021

“Happy Father’s Day.” I see it posted all over social media and everyone is texting about it. My family group chat is blown up with wishes to Dad about how he has been such a reliable father in our lives. Yet, all I can scrape out of me is a simple “Happy Father’s Day Dad. I love you and thank you.” If you know my father, and what I’ve been putting him through, you know that those words aren’t nearly enough to suffice for the man he has been in my life. However, that’s the best I can do for now. I’m exhausted. I’m angry. I’m not focused. I’m so confused. And, more than anything, I want everything to be okay. But, everything is far from “okay.”

After multiple meetings with other members of the hospital, the doctors have begun to make a “game plan” for my case. From what I understand, here’s how it goes. Both babies are low, but Maria is lower. This means that she is not likely to survive, but that doesn’t mean that Paxton won’t survive. The solution for Paxton is this; carry Maria until I naturally go into labor. After she is delivered, the doctors will use medicine to stop my contractions from going further. Then, they will take me to the operating room (OR) and perform a cerclage, in hopes of keeping Paxton in as long as possible. In the medical field, this entire procedure is known as Delayed Interval Delivery.

As the days go on, the twins only get lower. So, naturally, the nurses are on high alert for signs of labor. As much as I’d like to keep this part of the story private, it’s too funny not to share. Laying here on bed rest for the past week has messed with my digestion more than anyone could understand. So, I have been on medicine that helps my body digest foods easier, yes, aka stool softener. Aside from my irritated stomach, the twins are also causing a mass of issues to my abdominal area. So, one morning I let my nurse know that I had an urge to relieve myself of these stomach issues. Before I explain myself better, she calls in the doctors and suddenly I am rushing out of my PSU and into Labor and Delivery. I try as best as I can to let each person know that this was no alarm of labor, I just needed to go. They insist that I can't take any further action until the delivery room was set up and a doctor was on hand. After the longest hour of my life, the doctor comes in to check how far the twins have “moved.” I jokingly say, "It’s not the twins that are moving. Can I PLEASE do what I need to do?” After enough negotiating, a nurse is at my side as I take matters into my own hands. Even though the pains stopped, I still have to remain in this uncomfortable bed for around eight more hours to be monitored.

Although taking me to the Labor and Delivery room seemed unnecessary, I took the opportunity to mention that my catheter was bothering me terribly. One of my newest doctors took my words into consideration, thank god, and tested me for infections. Turns out a UTI is causing some of my discomforts. Excitedly, she informs me that my catheter would be removed this instant, and she gives me the option to leave it out. I didn’t hesitate to say “KEEP IT OUT. I NEVER want it back.” Later, I gain a new sense of freedom. I get to stand up for a brief five seconds to transfer to a wheelchair. In these five seconds, I feel weak, but so strong, at the same time. It's the first time I get to stand up since June 15th. On the way back to my room I have the biggest grin on my face. All the nurses cheer me on, knowing that this temporary change in position was just what I needed. Today was a good day! I was able to count today as a victory, even if it wasn’t part of the game plan. I'm finally back in my normal PSU room, with a “false labor” report. All I can do now is laugh and say that I certainly won’t mention this urgency in a hospital bed, while pregnant, ever again.

It’s hard to say that my victories are of little, as my battles are of great multitude. And, because of this, my body and mind are tired. My head doctor has given us the final game plan. You know those game plans when you are losing 2:45, but your coach is still counting on you to push through to the end. That’s the game I’m playing. I’m waiting for the worst to happen. There are three ways this hospital stay can end. One, I get severely infected and have to be induced because my health is at risk. Two, both of the babies lose their heartbeats, so I have to get induced to avoid infection. Three, I give birth to both babies naturally and hold them until I have to say goodbye. All of my hope in winning this game is shattered. I have been tackled too many times, my body feels useless, and now I watch the clock waiting.

Within these five days, I had a total of four visitors ,aside from my usual hospital circuit. Ma-T, a lovely friend of my family, set aside some time from her busy life and drove to visit us. Meme and Papa, my grandparents on Mom’s side, stopped by to see me while I was in Labor and Delivery for the day. As many know, Papa passed away a few months after this hospital visit. I will always be grateful that he and Meme took that day to fill the room with prayer and Papa’s laughter. A priest also made a visit all the way from Destin, blessing me and my family with the best intentions for good health and strength in these times. These are some of the memories I cherish from the hospital. Although they are faint, they still hold a place in my heart.

Read the part 1 and part 2. There are more stories to come on my days in the hospital.