Shot in the Butt

In a couple of weeks I'll be starting weekly progesterone shots that last through 36 weeks or until the end of my pregnancy whichever comes first (of course I'm counting on an uncomfortable 41 week pregnancy this time around--as I have said and will continue saying until my uncomfortable 41 weeks is up). I was teetering on whether I should do this treatment for a while now, but I've decided to go ahead with it. It's a relatively common injection for women who have had a previous premature birth and are on their second pregnancy. One of the doctors in my group recommended it, and I discussed it with another one of my doctors on Monday and we decided, "why not?" I've read a lot of literature on it and pretty much all of the studies, and they all say the same thing: with no side effects, there is really no reason not to do it. Except that the shot is in the butt and it's described as a "painful shot" and I am a complete wimp. But that's really not a reason to not do it. It's just a reason to dislike doing it. But as long as I'm doing something in a situation I have very little control over anyway, I will have to view this shot in the butt as "empowering" and proactive. It's not entirely clear what the progesterone does, but its successes are pretty good, preventing prematurity in about 34% of at-risk women. That's good news.

But talking to all these people about taking the shots does very little to help me keep my positive "let's-go-41-weeks-attitude" at its maximum, peak level. I've gone between speaking to my doctors' office and my insurance company about a dozen times over the past few days and just talking to them makes the possibility of having another premature birth very real. My insurance company is working to find a home health aide who will come to my house and explain to my husband and I how to use the shots, and also someone who will come to my house weekly after week 22 and track my progress and talk about premature labor with me. I understood all of this, was briefly comforted by the fact that there is treatment and help coming right into my house, then I hung up and cried. On and off for most of the day. And I called my mom during one of those "I want my mommy moments" sobbing to her, "I don't want another premature labor..."

If it weren't for my already raging hormones, I probably would not have completely lost control of myself for the day. And worrying about having another preemie will really only increase the stress and the headaches, which isn't good for anyone. But everyone has to have their moments, right? For the most part, I keep that 41-week attitude and I will after today. I promise. Until I am hunched over with my pants down and my husband is jabbing me in the ass with a needle. Quite a visual, huh? For better or for worse!