February 10th #2
We’re just getting to the airport when Ainsley calls me back.
“Hey, I saw you called,” she says.
“I got your message,” I reply. “You doing okay?”
She starts crying. “Yes, sort of, but we just got some test results back. I have protein in my urine, so I do have preeclampsia. Which is kinda scary, but my mom says everything will be fine. That Summer will be fine. They’ve already started inducing labor with medication, but so far no contractions. Just a little cramping.”
“I’m on my way, and I will be at the hospital soon. Is anyone there with you?”
“My mom is.”
“Can I talk to her?” I ask.
“Sure. Hey, Mom, can you talk to Damon?”
“Damon, I heard Jennifer sent her plane to get you,” her mom says.
“We’re just getting ready to board. Chase and my sister are coming with me. I don’t want to bombard Ainsley with questions. But she said they are inducing labor. Like, how long do I have? Will I make it in time?”
“You will, with no problem. She’s lucky because she was already dilated to a three when she came in, so she should transition from labor to delivery a little faster than usual.
But even so, we’re looking at six to ten hours.
She’s doing well. The baby’s doing well, and her heart rate is good.
Don’t freak out. Everything will be okay. ”
“She’s not going to have a stroke?”
“Well, we certainly hope not. Right now, she’s not on magnesium, but it’s an option they are holding if they need it.”
“What will it do?”
“Stop seizures, should that become a risk,” she says.
Which somehow doesn’t make me feel better.
“I’ll see you soon,” I tell her. “Thanks for being there.”
“No place I’d rather be,” she says. And there’s something in her voice. A lightness.
She’s a nurse. She’s not freaking out.
Maybe I shouldn’t be either.
But I still am.
I arrive at the hospital and go to her room. And I don’t know what I expected—something traumatic, honestly. But it’s not that way at all. The room is dim. The mood is relaxed. Her mom is sitting in a chair next to her, and Ainsley is sitting up in bed.
“You’re here!” she says when she sees me.
“I am. How’s everything going?” I ask her.
“I’ll let you have some privacy,” her mom says, getting up and leaving the room.
I lean down and give Ainsley a kiss. “How’s it going, Champ? Fill me in.”
“Well, we’re going to have a baby soon. My blood pressure is high, but not so high that they have given me magnesium yet. I’m in active labor, and the nurse just checked me about ten minutes ago. I’m still a three as far as being dilated, so no progress yet.”
“About how far apart are your contractions?” I ask.
“About five minutes. They aren’t too bad, but I do have bad cramps. They say that’s normal when they induce you. But it hurts.”
Her doctor comes in to check on her, and Ainsley introduces us.
“How’s it going?” he asks her, even though he’s looking at her chart.
“You tell me,” she says with a grin.
“Your blood pressure is above where we’d like to see it, as you know, so I’d like you to consider an epidural.”
“I mean, I can handle the pain. At least right now,” Ainsley tells him.
“Women amaze me with their pain tolerance, but as labor progresses, so will your pain,” the doctor says. “When we are in pain, our blood pressure rises. We don’t want yours to rise. An epidural can actually help keep things more stable, for you and your baby.”
“Is there any more information about that so we can make a good decision?” she asks, and I love that she said we.
“I can talk you through it,” he says. “Basically, an epidural reduces the body’s pain signals.
So, instead of a contraction, followed by pain, followed by a BP spike, you have a more manageable pain and a more stable blood pressure.
Already, preeclampsia is stressing your blood vessels and your organs.
That’s why you have so much swelling. An epidural also gives your labor and delivery team flexibility if things change. ”
“Like what?” Ainsley asks.
“Fetal distress, blood pressure issues.”
“Meaning you could do a quick C-section if you had to, right?” I ask.
“That’s right.”
“But I don’t want that,” Ainsley says, and I can tell she’s freaking out a little.
“Let’s talk to your mom about it,” I suggest.
“Okay,” she says to me, then to the doctor, “Can we let you know in a little while?”
“Of course. I’ll put in an order for it, so it’s ready if you choose.”
“Thanks, Doctor,” I say.
After he leaves, she says, “Before we talk to my mom, can just you and me talk it through?” She scrunches up her face and wraps her arm around her abdomen. “That hurts.”
I glance up at the monitor and see that the doctor’s right. Her blood pressure just went up a bit. And I know the pain will get worse.
I hold her hand tight until she gets through the contraction, which lasts for a little over a minute.
“You said you didn’t want a C-section, but are you against an epidural?” I ask her.
“I mean, women have been having babies without it since the beginning of time.”
“Right, but are you actually opposed to it?”
“I think it will hurt, getting one. Plus, I read that once you get it, you can’t move around.”
“You already can’t do that because of your blood pressure,” I offer.
“True. It’s just … I sort of had a birth plan. And now I feel out of control. What do you think we should do?”
“I watched your blood pressure rise with the contraction you just had. Knowing they are going to get worse as you progress—”
She nods. “You’re right. Birth plan doesn’t matter. Keeping our baby safe is what does.”
“And you,” I say, looking at her, because I don’t know what I would do without her.