You Have Nothing to Prove
Pregnancy is at once the most empowering thing I’ve experienced and the most vulnerable. We’re creating LIFE! And when baby H is kicking and squirming inside me, I feel overjoyed, but when my body starts doing weird things, it’s a big effort to keep my cool. To tease out “normal” pregnancy symptoms from “abnormal” or the no-need-for-concern to the better-go-get-checked-out.
Last Saturday, I noticed that my Braxton Hicks contractions (practice contractions that are a "normal" part of pregnancy, characterized by being infrequent and irregular) were happening very frequently. I was working, so I wasn't timing them exactly, but they seemed more frequent than what I was used to.
X Games Aspen only happens once a year and I didn't want to miss a single moment of it. It’s a huge honor to be a part of the broadcast team and I do everything I can to ensure I’ll be asked back the following year.
If I'm being honest, I felt an added responsibility this year to be an example of what's possible for pregnant women. Too often pregnancy is seen as a "condition" or "liability" or “reason not to hire someone” and I wanted to play my part in breaking that standard down. I made it through 3 of 4 of my events that day and thought I might be able to make it through the ski pipe broadcast that night.
But after 6 or so hours of this not changing, I called my OB and ran my symptoms by her. Given that I was 8 weeks from my due date, away from home, and Braxton Hicks don't normally happen so frequently, she suggested I go to the hospital for evaluation if they didn't settle down after another hour of rest and hydration.
When I hung up the phone with her, I called my husband, Chris. In the time we were speaking, I counted three more contractions. I found myself saying, "even if I do the ski pipe broadcast, I'll go to the hospital right after." Hearing those words leave my mouth I realized it didn’t make any sense to wait. I was risking far more by delaying than by going.
But my ego was trying to convince me otherwise. It didn’t want me to:
let people down
be seen as “over-reactive” or “paranoid”
have accommodations made for me or (heaven-forbid)
miss my “best” event
After a few more tears, I shipped off to the hospital.
Pregnancy puts a lot in perspective. It’s easier to believe that “I have nothing to prove” and that I’m justified in setting boundaries for my health & wellbeing. But in reality, we never have anything to prove and we’re ALWAYS justified in setting boundaries that protect our health & wellbeing. It’s a lesson that I’m going to be carrying with me into postpartum, motherhood, and beyond.
It took my a week to put my thoughts together and understand my reason for sharing this story, but ultimately, it comes down to this:
you have nothing to prove.
When I got to the hospital, they hooked two monitors up to my belly - one to watch my contractions and one to watch Baby H’s heartbeat. Turns out I was having contractions every 2.5 minutes for a minute, which is not normal for Braxton Hicks or this stage of pregnancy. That said, there were no other signs of preterm labor and everything with Baby H was looking great.
The midwife/RN who was on duty came in to tell me they were giving me a shot of Terbutaline which would stop the contractions. It did the trick within a few minutes of receiving it and I was released shortly thereafter. My only orders were to take a magnesium supplement, continue to stay hydrated, and keep paying attention to my body/symptoms. I could resume my normal duties the next day.
I’ve been to this hospital during X Games before… but for entirely different reasons!
On the left, Baby H’s heartbeat. Ranging from 120s - 160s as it should. On the right, the peak of one of my contractions.
Back under the lights on Sunday night for Men’s Ski Superpipe feeling like “normal” pregnant-Jen.
I awoke with a headache on Sunday, but my contractions were back to how they’d been throughout my pregnancy. I made it through (and enjoyed) my remaining events on Sunday and thought this bout was behind me. Unfortunately, when I flew back to Utah on Monday morning, it had all started up again. Since I was home, I opted to go get checked out here.
Largely, the docs and nurses came to the same conclusions. Contractions every 2.5 minutes lasting about 60 seconds. No change to my cervix. They did an additional test here called the fFN test (fetal fibronectin, fFN, is a “glue-like” protein that bonds the baby to the uterus), which predicts the likelihood that I’ll deliver my baby in the next two weeks. The results came back negative and the test is 99% reliable.
So, while we still don’t know why I’m having so many contractions, we can feel confident that Baby H is not yet on his way. The contractions don’t go away with rest, hydration or change of position, so I was told to assume this is my new baseline. (Yippie!) But before sending me home, the doctor on call recommended on last thing - a shot of Betamethasone, a steroid to aid in baby’s lung development should he come early. Fortunately, Chris was with me and asked for some time to consider the necessity.
It was then I understood the need for a written birth plan and taking the time to consider the most common decision points of labor in advance. I didn’t have the wherewithal to ask for time to evaluate the medical necessity of the terbutaline shot while I was in Aspen. It’s hard to pull back and make calculated decisions when you’re in the middle of what feels like “an emergency.”
I’m largely of the mind that (for the most part) there are no “right” or “wrong” decisions when it comes to this stuff. The mother (and partner, if there is one) need to make decisions based on what they’re comfortable with. When we looked into Betamethasone we learned it was most effective if given within 7 days of preterm labor. I took a moment to tap in to my intuition. No part of me felt like I was close to being in labor. Also, the fFN is quite reliable and indicated I wouldn’t be going into labor in the next two weeks. So, we opted not to get the Betamethasone shot.
My primary goal through all of this is to deliver a healthy baby. You never imagine how vulnerable you’ll feel until you’re actually growing a baby inside you. The weight of every decision feels enormous and your baby’s health feels like it’s entirely YOUR responsibility. All of this has reminded me of how little is actually in our control. It also brought me back to my word for 2020: faith. Faith is being present and accepting of what is, trusting that you’ll find your way through no matter what. It’s not focusing on an imagined future where something has gone awry and causing yourself worry. It’s taking what presents in stride.
So, onward & upward! 7 weeks to Baby H’s due date! He’s the size of a celery bunch, weighs over 4 lbs and 17+ inches. Excited to meet the little guy, but patiently waiting!
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Once again, thank you to everyone at Echo Entertainment for having my back 100% and Hugh Arian for reminding me that "work is work, family is life." Thank you, Sarah Herron for coming down valley to be with me so I wouldn't be alone. And, Chris, thank you for thinking to ask Sarah to join me (since asking for help isn't my strong-suit).