The "Mug"

So, as some of you may know, one of the things I was most excited about delivering at our new hospital was the fact that every mom who delivers there receives a giant mug with a lid and a straw with the hospital name on it. I know this may be a SILLY thing to be excited about, but nevertheless, I was pumped! All my friends had one and the dumb hospital I delivered at previously gave me nothing but that teeny little pink plastic cup with the matching pitcher and "barf tray"! How do they expect new breastfeeding mommies to stay hydrated!?!?!?

Needless to say, should I be in a position to get more than one of those mugs, you would expect me to be very excited! Right? Not so much. Let me explain...

Thursday afternoon, about the time Johnny came home from work and was trying to get the living room cleaned up for his weekly singles' Bible study, I went to lay down in bed because I had a bit of a headache. As I lay there, I started feeling some mild Braxton-Hicks contractions. No big deal, right? Well...they're not a big deal if they go away. These were not. They were coming every 3 or 4 minutes and they were pretty low. So I start looking online about preterm labor and it says that most early contractions will go away if you lie down and drink lots of water (that day I had had a glass of grape juice and a Diet Coke to drink...it was 5:45 pm). So I had Johnny get me a glass of water. When I finished that I had him get me another one. Still no stopping those contractions.

So I call my friend Amanda, who is pregnant herself and has 2 kids already, and has the same doctor as I do. She told me that our doctor's policy is that if you have more than 5 contractions in an hour, you're supposed to go to labor and delivery. So, I tell Johnny what's going on and he insists I call the on-call nurse. She picks up and I explain what's going on and she informs me that I do in fact have to go to the hospital.

My heart sinks. My mind immediately goes to, "Please don't let my little girl be born at 32 weeks! That's way too early!" Of course, it's probably just nothing and they're just going to monitor me there, but my hormonal pregnant mind automatically goes to the worst-case scenario...and I start comparing to my friend Kari, whose little boy was born at 36 weeks and has hearing loss! Not a good thing to be thinking!

SO I tell Johnny we need to go and start calling people to see if they can come watch J.J. while we run to the hospital. EVERYONE I know is either at work or sick! So, we end up taking him with us. Fortunately, his uncle Matthew came up and got him around 7:30 and took him back home to eat and go to bed.

We make it up there and I fill out paperwork and they put me in a room. I have to don the lovely open-backed gown that we all know and love and make a "deposit" in a cup. Then the nurse (who was FABULOUS!) comes in and tells me she has to examine me and give me a Fetal Fibronectin screening, which tests to see if I'm going to deliver within the next 2 weeks. THAT was a FUN test, let me tell you. Nothing like laying flat on your back (32 weeks pregnant belly and all), with your hips up in the air being supported by a bedpan (which I'm still not sure the use was) while the nurse swabs away at your insides. Ahhh....felt great!

After a few minutes of watching "So You Think You Can Dance", the nurse comes back in and tells me that I have ketones in my urine sample. What the heck does that mean? It means I'm REALLY dehydrated.

So guess what I got? Yep! THE MUG!!!!!! I almost did a little dance right there in the hospital bed (except that would have made for some interesting blips on the monitor and may have pulled a couple of cords out of things that were otherwise supposed to remain plugged in)! The blessed chalice of motherhood! I had finally received my mug! I was told to drink the contents as quickly as I could and when that was done, to get a refill. So I obeyed and drank. And drank and drank and drank. I went through three of those puppies in about an hour and a half. And guess what? No sign of the contractions letting up!

So what did that mean for cute little Heather? Ahhh...a shot of Terbutaline (Brethine)! Yay...a shot. And the best part was when the nurse said, "This will make you really jittery, so we're giving you some Ambien to help you sleep when you get home."

Five minutes had past after the insidious injection that stung like a giant bumble bee attacking my bicep, then my contractions stopped. All done! So they sent me home with my beloved mug and told me to eat soon or I would fall asleep before I got the chance (it was now 9:45 and I still hadn't eaten anything but some graham crackers the nurse so generously bestowed upon me, after lots of begging and pouting).

After chowing down on some Braum's, I made it to bed at 11:00 and slept a gloriously uninterrupted 9 1/2 hours!!! J.J. even slept in until 8:30, which he NEVER does!

So, now everyone I know keeps bugging me about drinking water. My mom, my friends, my hubby, my extended family...complete strangers, even (okay...not really)! The thing is, I never felt thirsty that day...it's not like I was ignoring my body telling me to drink...I honestly wasn't thirsty! Weird. But rest assured, I have had my trusty beverage container by my side constantly for the last 4 days. Needless to say...there have been MANY trips to the bathroom...it's really getting old.