So there's this medication they can give a woman if her uterus doesn't behave. Say if it decides to start contracting ten weeks before it really should, the medical community has this fabulous little "time out" for the uterus called "terbutaline". I believe, on the street, it is called "crystal meth".
Now, don't go forming opinions about me based on that comment; I wouldn't know crystal meth if it bit me--I'm a good girl who went to Catholic school and was afraid of beer until college. I have, however, watched LOTS of episodes of Oprah and Dr. Phil, so I've heard all about the stuff. And now, because my uterus didn't behave for a few moments last night, I feel like I have had experienced it.
It's interesting how something that "relaxes" the uterus can send the rest of your body into an adrenaline rush that would rival the sensation of jumping out of a plane. "Jittery" I think is the word the nurse used for it. Poor, poor, misguided nurse. Clearly her uterus never stepped out of line and needed to be beaten back into submission. I wouldn't use the word "jittery"; I would use the world "convulsive" (but I am a drama queen).
Moments after the shot in the arm (I am changing my middle name to 'pin cushion'), I felt as though I were on a rollercoaster, slowly trolling up the track, my heart rate gearing up in anticipation for the giant fall. It only took about 45 seconds for the cart to drop and then the medicine that was making my uterus calm made the rest of me race. Not pleasant. The nurse sat with me and held my hand (I fear that I am now known as the hallway sissy). I was embarrassed, but not enough to let go of her hand.
Fortunately, the miracle drug worked; my uterus realized who was boss and chilled the hell out.
I can't be all brave and pretend I wasn't terrified. At 26 weeks pregnant, a contraction is the least welcome of all feelings (not that I really even felt it). But I am surrounded by women who aren't as far along as me and who have to submit to the terb multiple times a day just to stave off labor for another few days or weeks. Luckily, we are all confined to bed, so we don't see eachother shaking like a bunch of addicts after each shot or pill.
I am hoping that my experience with the "terb" was a one-time event--perhaps it is part of the High Risk Pregnancy floor's hazing process.