The Back Story

When I was pregnant with Precious, my third child, I was enormous really early. I couldn’t feel the baby move much and my abdomen was rather tight. I was getting an unusual amount of Braxton-Hicks contractions. I was being seen by the midwives for the second time, after having a very pleasant experience giving birth to my older daughter at home. I was planning another home birth with Precious. Around 22 weeks, I was at work and didn’t feel well. I felt faint and panicked. I paged the midwives who called back immediately and suggested I go to the hospital. At the time, I worked just minutes away and DH rushed over to get me and take me. Luckily, I was able to go straight up to the maternity ward and bypass the ER since I was past 20 weeks.

The baby was monitored and I was monitored for contractions. The nurse commented that I was getting a lot of contractions, and I said that I was getting a lot of Braxton-Hicks, and she corrected me. These were a bit too strong for Braxton-Hicks but she was so calm about the whole thing, I didn’t feel overly worried.

At my next midwife appointment, I mentioned my concerns and told them I likely had polyhydramnios, or an excess of amniotic fluid. Of course, I had googled it. The midwives agreed and sent me off to the high risk unit at the hospital to see the ob/gyn. They were very calm about the whole thing and I didn’t feel that concerned. The ob/gyn agreed with this diagnosis and I started seeing him weekly. The first week, he suggested I take it easy and go on sick leave at work. By week two with him, he recommended that I lie down as much as possible, and within three weeks, he recommended not doing anything more strenuous than getting up to go to the bathroom. With my enormous, distended abdomen, my body would likely think I was full-term, even though I was only 26 weeks pregnant. My son had just turned 3 and my daughter was 18 months old. Luckily DH picked up all the slack for the next two months. I can’t even believe how hard he worked during that time.

At about 28 weeks, the pressure on my abdomen was unbearable and I felt like I was suffocating. The doctor suggested an amnioreduction, which is just as it sounds – a reduction of amniotic fluid. He inserted an amnio needle and let the fluid drain. He removed about 4L (or 10 pounds!) of fluid and for the first time in a while, I could breathe normally. I felt off balance and so much lighter, but had to stay in the hospital for almost a week to make sure I didn’t go into labour. They tested the fluid and found no abnormalities with the baby, and didn’t seem overly concerned about anything being wrong with her. I figure this is all part of the approach they use for pregnant women. They don’t want to get us too excited so they downplay things. Worrying doesn’t really help anyway. Below, is a picture of me at 28 weeks with ONE baby!

Photo Frame by Katie Pertiet

At about 33 weeks, I was back in the hospital after weeks more of bedrest and the steroid injections to mature the baby’s lungs. Another amnioreduction was attempted, but it didn’t work and I was destined to spend the rest of my pregnancy in the hospital. I was induced at 34 weeks and my daughter was born at 34 weeks, 2 days. I was tired and weak after lying down for 2 months, and spent the last two days of my pregnancy in one of the labour and delivery beds, which are not really meant to be slept in! My hips were killing me and I was exhausted. Despite being drug-free for the first two deliveries, I ended up getting an epidural for Precious. It didn’t eliminate all the pain, but it sure was a lot easier to manage.

34 weeks pregnant

Waiting to be induced

As it turns out, Precious wasn’t swallowing amniotic fluid in utero, something that babies normally do, so it was accumulating. This was all due to her hypotonia (low muscle tone) and she had trouble swallowing even after she was born. She was fed with a nasal-gastric tube for the first 5 weeks of life. Even after we got her on a bottle, it was a struggle; using thickeners and fearing that she would inhale her food.

So in the end, the polyhydramnios was a sign of her muscular disorder, even though we chose to believe it couldn’t be true with all the reassurances we got along the way that everything would turn out fine. Of course, we figured her issues would only be physical and we were wrong about that, too.

Part of me feels that I was naive when I was pregnant and the other part of me is glad I had those last few weeks to be innocent of how my life would change.

6 Responses to The Back Story