Monday, March 30th

We woke up on Monday morning, and our high-risk doctor came in to meet with us.  He gave us all the same situations as the doctors the night before-the majority of people with prom (premature rupture of membrane) go into labor with 48 hours.  He moved us to a room in the postpartum wing, which was excruciating to see all the happy families and hear their brand new babies crying.  Brian stayed with me but finally had to leave to get us some clothes and take care of work.  I had called my work, and they were SO supportive.  Just leave work to us, they said.  You take care of those babies.

I got wheeled to the clinic for another ultrasound, where they told me, hmmm...baby A still doesn't have any fluid.

Again, I was told:  it's a wait and see game.  Just let us know when you start feeling contractions or seeing any bleeding.

My mom came Monday, which was the start of a string of visitors, which helped immensely.  I was a total mess-couldn't believe this was happening.

Against what everyone was telling me, I started looking up a little bit about what had happened to me.  They call it PROM.  It only happens in about 2-3% of pregnancies.  There's nothing they can do about it-there's no seal for it, or a way to get fluid back in.

Monday was a really long day with a lot of crying.  We celebrated at 9:40 when it had been 24 hours and nothing happened.