Grrrrrrr!!!

Why does it seem that every time we celebrate some good news, something crappy comes along to ruin the celebration? At 24 weeks, I was so thrilled to hit the milestone of "viability" and celebrated all the way to the doctors office ..... only to find my cervix was dangerously thin and I would be ordered on full bedrest.

A similar quandry occured earlier this week, when I oficially hit the 28-week mark on Wednesday. This was a major milestone for us, as the survival rate is over 90% at this gestation, and the risk of major long-term problems lowers significantly. Back during my second night in the hospital I had a sweet nurse named Emmie who grabbed my arm and said, "listen to me: you set your eyes on 28weeks and focus every bit of energy you have on that". Since that night I have been counting down the days until we got here.

So Wednesday morning, I woke up overjoyed and overwhelmed with gratitude that God carried us to week 28. A small number on the calendar, which likely seems insignificant to most pregnant women .... but to us reaching 28 was a gigantic miracle. Brandi picked Gracie up from school at noon, and then the three of us headed to my weekly OB appointment.

Dr. Garcia entered my exam room and immediately said, "28 weeks .... WHOO-HOOO!!!", and then proceeded to give me a high-five and a hug. Gosh I love my doctor. He then felt my cervix and reported, "feels about the same as last week" ..... thank you Lord! He also did another fetal fibronectin test, the results of which he promised would get to me within a few hours. My last Ffn test was about 2 1/2 weeks ago, and came back negative. A negative test means you have a 95% chance of NOT delivering within the next 14 days.

I had already made up my mind that today's test would be negative too .... after all, we're in this for the long haul. We have already mentally prepared ourselves for 8-10 more weeks of laying flat for 23.5 hours a day, babysitters, wheelchairs, injections, donated meals, and all the rest.

I was so confident in a negative result of this test, that I told Brandi on the way home from Northside we should have an ice cream party to celebrate my 28-week victory. Gracie thought this was a grand idea, of course, so once we got back to Douglasville we swung through Cold Stone and placed our to-go order. Brandi set up a little card table next to my bed, while Gracie gathered no less than ten of her stuffed animals to join the party. Together we all pigged out:

About five minutes into our celebration, right around the time that Gracie's face was coated in a nice even layer of chocolate and my own ice cream had that perfect 80% frozen / 20% melted consistency .... the phone rang. It was Dr. Garcia's nurse, Debbie. Now Debbie and I are on the phone at least 2-3 times a week because I've always got so much going on. I feel like we're pen-pals or something. We always joke that once this whole mess is over we're going to meet for some Starbucks.

The second I heard Debbie's voice, I knew something was wrong. She sounded nervous and upset. I said, "I hope you're calling with good news!"; to which she responded, "WELL ........."

My test came back positive.

My heart sank but I stayed calm and got all the relevant information from her. I hung up and sat here for a moment to let it sink in. Then I realized I would have to call James and tell him the news and my heart sank for a second time. I toyed with the idea of not telling him until he got home from work since I really didn't want to ruin his entire day, but Brandi convinced me that I needed to call him immediately and I knew she was right. I called and heard myself tell him in a very lighthearted manner that this didn't mean anything 100% .... the Ffn has false positives all the time .... we've made it to 28 weeks so we're past the super-scary point anyways .... and everything's going to be just fine.

I then spent the next three hours with Dr. Google trying to convince myself that all of that garbage I had just fed him was remotely true.

Unfortunately, Dr. Google can not tell me the exact accuracy of a positive Ffn test, because all the highly-esteemed "experts" and all the major studies have come to varying conclusions. I did learn that a most say your chances of delivering within 7 days is somewhere around 20%; within 14 days the percentage varied from 30% to 40% depending on who published the study. In my own experience with Gracie, I had a +Ffn at 32w5d; and she was born 16 days later.

Ever since receiving Wednesday's news, I've been trying super-hard to stay positive and resist the normal Kristi-response of freaking out. For the most part I have stayed quite calm, although I've had a few brief ocassions here and there where the fear rises up and I have a weepy moment. I decided that maybe I'd feel a little more prepared if I at least packed my hospital bag, so yesterday I made Brandi take me to Target (my first non-medical venture outside the house), to pick up hospital necessities like a travel toothbrush and 17 mega-paks of maxi pads. The trip was quite comical: me in a wheelchair with two shopping baskets in my lap, Brandi pushing me while trying to carry more items under her arm, and Gracie trying to force Brandi out of the way and whining that she wanted to push and/or ride the wheelchair herself. Sheesh, I wish I'd had the forethought to take a picture of *that* for the blog, we were quite a sight I'm sure!

So I've spent much of today trying to put together a pile of things for the hospital bag, and making several more phone calls to phone nurse Debbie, trying to work out insurance issues. My 40-foot-needle-toting home nurse, Sharon, came today for my weekly 17P injection, and informed me that Blue Cross/Blue Shield had denied Dr. Garcia's request to add continuous monitoring to my home care regimen. Last week he put in orders for Matria to set up a monitoring station in my bedroom .... the same toco monitors and fetal heart tone monitors they use in the hospital to assess your contractions and the baby's response to them. With the home system they are able to connect the monitor through your phone line, and it feeds the information to a nurse somewhere out in cyber-world, who reads your strip and pushes a big red panic button somewhere once she sees things getting problematic.

Apparently some dude in a suit at Blue Cross thinks that I must not really need this monitoring, because they've refused to pay for it. Maybe the suit-guy thinks Dr. Garcia is just out to get him. Or maybe he thinks he'd rather get another $10,000 bill from Northside Hospital than pay an amount 1/100th of that to cover my home monitoring. I don't know what the heck he's thinking quite frankly. But I'm extremely angry and frustrated today that once again a representative from my insurance company thinks that he knows more about what I need than my doctor does.

So Dr. Garcia's office is now fighting with Blue Cross on this matter .... however the monitoring was ordered by Dr. Garcia SEVEN DAYS AGO. Today is now Friday again, so the best we can hope for is to get some response from Blue Cross on Monday .... another three days away. In the meantime, I now have a +Ffn, time is ticking, and my hands are tied.

Geez, like I don't have enough to worry about at the moment?

I think I need to go re-read that scripture my friend, Heather, sent to me this morning. Where is it? Ah, yes, here, Philippians 4:6-7 ...

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

I'm trying. I really really am.