How I Nearly Had an Emergency C-Section When All I Wanted Was Tea pt 3

Who puts a damn clock on the wall right across from a hospital bed? That's what I want to know. What savage, deranged mind puts a huge fucking clock on the one wall you HAVE to stare at? In a labor and delivery ward no less. Probably the same jackass that decided it was a good idea to tell a pregnant woman she can't get up to use the restroom.

The long night continues.

Magnesium sulfide is a helluva a drug. You flush intensely warm, like you're on fire, you get a headache, the room swirls a bit and your eyes track slowly as you try to move them. It makes you tired but sleep is hard. It's more like a fevered dream than sleep and it is dreadfully short. Spurts of sleep and wakefulness punctuated by a mouth and lips so dry you'd think you'd kissed the Sahara. But it does its job well, if not achingly slow. It's a muscle relaxant, and a heavy duty one at that. Over the next 24 hours I get to know it well. Too well, in fact. While it surely, but slowly, is stopping my contractions, it's also building up in my system. Other side effects include double vision and barfing. I discover this my second night. I have to close one eye to focus on anything. I spent the whole day doing nothing because I couldn't read, or draw or even watch TV due to seeing double. It's like being drunk but far less pleasant.

Now things are spinning and I feel my lovely ice chip breakfast lunch and dinner coming back to haunt me. Ice chips, how dare you forsake me?! We were so good together! Come back! Wait, no, on second thought, don't. That'd be gross. Just stay down or...nope. Ok. Burn less on the way up next time. How rude.

Maybe we should cut back on the mag, the nurse suggests. You seem petite to me.

All the blank stares in the world could not summarize my feelings upon hearing this. It was hilarious and mind bendingly ridiculous all at once. I'm not even 130 pounds pregnant and I seem "a little petite." I thought about laughing, but wasn't really in a spot to do so. Who wants to barf again? Not I.
 
Since my contractions are on going although far more spaced out, there's some debate about cutting the dose in half. In the end, the nurse wins because I look and feel terrible, and things have calmed down considerably since the night before. Baby is still doing just fine, and it's looking less and less like I will be having surgery and more and more like baby is staying in place for the next 7 weeks. I get my second steroid shot, just in case, but at this point, if the cutting back on the drugs doesn't cause any major issues, we're ingood shape. The hubs and I are hopeful. He sits with me and waits for the side effects of the drugs to calm as my dosage is lowered. Perhaps we can actually go home tomorrow. That would be fantastic.