My paranoia turned out to actually be useful.
Had somewhat painful contractions this morning. They, however, slowed to occasional before my scheduled ultrasound. Which went great-- lots of movement, great measurements. So great in fact that I didn't even ask about in-hospital monitoring-- it felt entirely unnecessary. Dr. Best did check the cervix, which was fingertip dilated and 50% effaced, or not much change since the last check, and pronounced me able to go back to the shore. But I was sleepy, and so I went home for a nap first.
One nap, return of much more frequent contractions, and my appraisal of not enough movement later my paranoia had me calling the hospital to come back in. Had a bunch of contractions on the way, and then they slowed down when I was actually hooked up to the monitors. The baby was sort of quiet at first, but then demonstrated the required number of accelerations. I was starting to figure out how long the drive back to the shore would take, whether I was still likely to hit traffic, and what my chances were at the leftover BBQ once I got myself over there.
And then the contractions returned, and I agreed to a cervix check that I refused earlier, when there weren't any. And that check had me clocking in at 1-2cm. And just like that, everything changed.
So I have been admitted, got my first shot of steroids and my first dose of IV antibiotics, followed by the first shot of heparin, am sporting a lovely pair of compression stockings, and am about a quarter way through my loading bag of mag. Which is making me predictably hot and rather uncoordinated with the typing. So this post is taking a while.
A neonatalogist and an anesthesiologist have been by. At this gestational age (33w5d) the prognosis is pretty good even if he came tonight, and only gets better if we can hold the fort for the 48 hours required to complete the steroid protocol. The nurse says she has seen a lot of people hold out longer even after the mag is removed, due to its magical juju of relaxing the hell out of you. I believe that to be a term of art.
One of our friends who was at the shore with us drove JD to the hospital. Monkey stayed, and is excited to get to hang with friends sans parents and that her little brother may actually be born soon. I am not thinking very far ahead, but I am daring to hope for 48 hours, and maybe even beyond. The heart rate monitor is thumping very reassuringly over my right ear. There is also a baby warmer in this room. There wasn't one in the room where A was born.
Magnesium is gaining on me, so I'd better hit publish. I am still somewhat shocked that me being the Protector seems to have come in handy. I had honestly thought that whatever the outcome, it would be in no way affected by my actions, regardless of how desperately vigilant I'd been. Maybe it's the stopped clock, twice a day thing.