Winding down week two of captivity. There are 36 ceiling tiles above me. Seven of them have accoutrements such as lights, sprinklers or fans installed. Sleep deprivation continues, with the hospital staff not allowing more than two and a half hours of sleep at a time. I am convinced the-powers-that-be secretly turn the heat up at night to assist in the baby cooking process. Why yes, in answer to your question, I am indeed going stir crazy.
Several nurses continue to be terrified of me – eying me with blank doe-eyed fear every morning as they ask “more contractions?” Their stance proves them ready to flee in search of a doctor at any moment. The doctors have now confessed that their “voodoo” abilities (their words, not mine) are complete and birthdays are now in the hands of Mother Nature. So kids, it could be a day; it could be 10 weeks.
Tuesday and Wednesday of this week, the boys received a “rescue dose” of steroids, intended to spur increased development of their lungs. (My poor little guys will never play professional sports. I guess this truly is the Steroid Era – they didn’t even make it out of the womb without performance enhancing drugs.)
Today marks 27.5 weeks for the twins. Both weighed in at approximately 2.2 pounds after this morning’s big fancy ultrasound measurement. True to form, the boys weren’t terribly keen on cooperating with the program. Baby A was curled up in the fetal position and had his arms wrapped around his knees, thereby preventing several measurements. Last week, Baby B was breech (feet down); today he was transverse (sideways) facing away from all monitoring devices. The ultrasound technician commented that the kids were being difficult. Honestly, I’d be concerned if they suddenly began behaving.
Some parents think you don’t have to chase your kids around until they’re born and mobile… Each day, the nurses are required to administer an NST (non-stress test). This uses the hockey pucks monitoring devices mentioned in a previous post to track the boys’ heartbeats alongside contractions. When I first checked in for my third baby jail stint, the orders were two NSTs per day, but that was reduced due to technical difficulties.
And by technical difficulties, I am naturally referring to the twins’ distinct lack of cooperation. It has now reached the point where I believe the two little rascals are acting in cahoots. Knowing the difficulties that lay behind tracking down two very mobile dudes and getting them to remain monitored (which has NEVER been one of their favorite past times) for an hour (which is pretty much impossible), I have deduced that Baby B came up with a game and convinced Baby A to play along.
The nurse will spend approximately five minutes grumbling over the fact she cannot find Baby A on the monitor. Finally, he will appear and the hockey puck will be strapped down. Then the nurse will move on spending about 10 minutes looking for Baby B, who is now fully engaged in his personal Hide-N-Seek game. Once he let’s the nurse think that she has found him – poof, Baby A will disappear. This will continue, back and forth. Last Saturday, the game continued long enough for three nurses to join the quest, all at once, until I called off the test after 45 minutes of searching.
I suspect Baby B may have bribed his brother with a promised decrease in kicks to the head. Fine by me really – I’m still operating under the assumption that those kicks are the reason Baby A is currently trying to orchestrate the great escape when his brother isn’t paying attention.
Friends and family have snuck in copious amounts of contraband junk food – from fast food burgers and fries to cupcakes and cookies. As Kaiser is currently on a health food “thrive” campaign, there comes a point where a person can only tolerate a certain amount of wheat and fiber. (The chicken salad croissant sandwich: false advertising. It is wheat bread formed into the shape of a delicious croissant.) I have consumed all provided junk food with gleeful abandon – my new motto being “Chubby Babies!” Let’s all have a cookie and repeat shall we? (Birth weight is a big deal.)
Apologies for the randomness of this post. So just because it seemed appropriate when I began, please enjoy Who’s on First? by Abbott and Costello.
Hey,
2.2 pounds and lookin good! Eat every cookie you can find – the one time you’ll feel great about doing it!!
J