Day 8 of Hell

Last night, I reached the realization that I really don't know how much more pain I can take.  I want to educate everyone out there on fibroid degeneration.  It is HELL!  Imagine someone running a knife through your spine and stabbing you continuously in the back...over and over and over again. And imagine this going on for days with no end in sight.  A morphine drip would  be heaven right now.

I am honestly not trying to whine.  I imagine what other women have gone through and who aren't able to carry a child.  However, I am human.  There is only so much any person can take.  To say that I am not severely depressed and under extreme distress is an understatement.

My parents arrived in town yesterday.  It has been nice having someone wait on me hand and foot since my hubby has to work.  My mom stayed up with me the entire night as I bawled hysterically.  On the floor on all fours, arching my back, rocking back and forth to relieve the pain, my mom sat there all night massaging my back as I screamed in pain.  Yes, this has been my life for the past 8 days, minus the personal massage therapist (my mom).

Another week down.  23 weeks....viability.  Now I know many women may strive for that 23/24 milestone, but my milestone is 36 weeks.  As I sat in the OB Triage at Northwestern Hospital Monday morning while the doctors tried to get my contractions under control, we had a pretty frank conversation with the doctor.  If I gave birth at 23/24 weeks, there would still be little chance that our daughter would make it.  If our daughter did make it, there was a 90% chance she would have some sort of disability.  Very grim outcome.  So, that leaves me with no other choice than to hang on for as long as possible...bedrest, pain and all.  And if bitching is the only thing that makes the pain slightly more manageable, then by all means I am going to bitch.