Ruined Surprise

Milton said he had a surprise for me on March 31 and April 7.  I was actually very excited about the surprise and had no idea what he was planning.  He usually finds amazing restaurants for us to experience so I thought it was either that or he arranged for me to have a massage.

Of course all plans of a surprise were ruined once I entered my new island, also known as the bed.  I asked him what the surprise was going to be and he said that my friends were planning a surprise shower for me.  Ahh, this made me sad.  My college roommate DeShawn was even going to be flying in from Maryland.  I guess Baby Turner was trying to attend his own party, but I don’t think he understands that he wasn’t invited!

Well, about an hour after I had my fit about my closet sized room, the door to my room opened and in came my friend Renee with a bunch of baby blue balloons.  Shortly after came Tioka with a cake that had a monkey on it. Then Nikki soon followed with her two cute sons.  The brought the party to me and I was so happy they did. Not only was it good to see them, eat cake and open gifts – but I was surrounded by three women, each of which has two kids of their own.  They are each great mothers in their own unique way and I hope to use a piece of each of them in my own mothering skills.

I am most surprised that Milton was able to keep that secret without me having any clue whatsoever. I am married to a great man and have great friends and for that I am thankful!



Not a Good Move

I woke up Saturday sad. As I looked at the clock, I knew that I should be at my fitness studio with our wonderful charizYa Fitness family.  I would have much rather been there and truly hated that I couldn’t be. Around 11:00am, Milton’s dad and two of his father’s friends came up to visit.  His father has always been very supportive and it was great to have them visit.  Toward the end of their visit, the nurses came in and said they were going to move to another room.  My current room was actually very nice.  It’s the room used when someone delivers so it was very spacious with nice amenities.  I thought the move would be a good thing since I’d been sleeping the past three nights on the delivery bed.  Milton packed all of our things and I was pushed in a wheelchair down the hall.  We passed all of these other nice rooms and then entered a new hallway.  Right before we entered, the nurse said, its a small room.  THAT WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT.

She wheeled me into the smallest liveable space I have ever seen.  As I sat in the bed, if I stretched out both arms, I could reach both walls.  The window opened up to brick wall.  Milton’s family didn’t even want to walk into the room (probably because they couldn’t fit).  I felt as if they were locking me in a closet.  I started to cry.  I told Milton I couldn’t stay there.  I rolled over, pulled the cover over my head, closed my eyes and cried some more. Milton went and got the nurse and asked if I could be moved to another room. They walked around with him to look for a different room. Fortunately I was moved to a slightly larger room with a much better view.  As soon as I saw it, I felt more at ease.

Bed Rest Diaries

Once I was settled into my room, I started dealing with the reality that my regular life as I know it has changed.  My Type A personality came on and I had to get in major planning mode.  I called my friend and great Zumba instructor, Jessica, and she helped me get everything in place for the fitness studio.  I made a list of things for Milton to bring from the house.  I tried to explain in detail where each item is since I couldn’t be there to point it out.  I called all of my family and friends to let them know what had happened.  Everyone said to be strong.

Wednesday night and Thursday morning I was put on a clear liquid diet.  For those that don’t know what that consist of – chicken broth, apple juice, jello and italian ice. The first time I ate it, I actually looked forward to it since I hadn’t eaten in 10 hours.  I was still on strict bed rest and had to use a bedpan when I needed to urinate. Thursday was difficult because for the first time I was having to be dependent on everyone else. The bed was my island and all the action happened around me.

Thursday at lunchtime I had graduated to regular food.  For the meals here, you given a menu of foods and you can call down and decide what time you want to eat.  For my first meal i chose pizza (surprise) and chocolate cake.  It was good for the simple fact that I hadn’t eaten real food in 24 hours.

I had originally been on magnesium, but they stopped giving me that. The round the clock baby and contractions monitor was taken off and now they only monitor me twice a day. Freedom was mine – as long as I could do it from my bed.

The most difficult thing about Thursday and Friday was my concern for Milton. I experienced a major setback, but Milton experienced an even larger one with more emotion. Here both his wife and unborn child are rushed to a hospital, Milton is driving back and forth to the house to get all necessary items, when all he wants to do is be by my side.  Everything I’ve always done to maintain the household now falls on him.  He turned into the ultimate provider.  His job could tell how overwhelmed he was that they made him take Friday off – which was good for the both of us!


Swept Off My Feet, Just Like That

I woke up excited Wednesday morning because I had a pregnancy massage planned.  11:00am to be exact. Happy, happy, joy, joy!  I was 27 weeks pregnant and my body really needed it. I called my doctor’s office to see when I could come and have my cervix measured.  They didn’t know a time at first, but soon called back and said to come in at 11:00.  Yuck!  I picked up the phone and canceled the massage.  I walked in the office as normal and went into the ultrasound room. They did a transvaginal ultrasound.  As soon as they started, the lady said, “We need to get a doctor.”  Of course I became worried.  My doctor was not in the office but Dr. Link entered.  They were unable to recreate what they saw but they did save a photo of it. I was told to get dressed and the doctor would talk with me in his office.  Not good.  He said my cervix was funneling and that I needed to go home and rest. He said he’d follow up with my regular doctor and to come back in a week for another measurement.

I got dressed and went to my fitness studio to drop something off. As I was headed back down to the car, my phone rang and it was my doctor, Dr. Kuntz.  She asked if I could stop by the office.  Sure, I replied.  I’m thinking I’ll go in and come right back out and continue my errands. I walk back into Baptist East Hospital and got back on the contractions monitor.  They were still better than the day before.  I was given another transvaginal ultrasound. Although they saw some funneling, my cervix measured fine.  I was getting ready to be let go and then my doctor asked if she could go on and do a regular ultrasound so we could check the baby.

This excites me because I get to see Baby Turner again.  This time the mood changed.  They saw what they call “dynamic cervix funneling” and it was something they could only see on the abdominal ultrasound.  I knew something wasn’t right but didn’t exactly know what was going on. Long story short: my doctor called the Advanced Fetal Medical doctor, he said I need to go to the hospital with a Level III NICU, I was moved via ambulance (during a hail storm) to University Hospital and immediately placed into a room.

I tried to be cool, calm and collective until that moment.  I hated having to call Milton to tell him the news and just wanted Baby Turner to be okay. Of course he was very nervous and left work to meet me at the hospital. An IV was placed into my arm and monitors were placed on me to monitor my contractions and Baby Turner’s heart rate.  My newly appointed doctor, Dr. Weeks came in and did another abdominal ultrasound. Milton was there by this time and we were both able to see the funneling. Here’s the best way to describe it. My cervix measures fine in it’s normal state.  However, whenever I have a contraction this big funnel appears (which is my water sack) and it gets very, very, very close to my cervix – which means there’s a great chance my water could break.  This made Dr. Weeks very nervous, especially being only at 27 weeks.  So, I was told that I would be on bedrest – in the hospital – until I’m at least 32 weeks along.

This broke my heart.  I had so many plans for the month of April and now each and every one of them needed to be canceled. I thought about my Zumba studio and the fact that I wouldn’t be able to see that beautiful group of ladies for awhile.  It was overwhelming because I had no time to prepare my life for the drastic change.  Fear, stress, worry (and hunger)  all took over my emotions.  I tried to remain calm, though, because I knew it was all being done for a cute baby boy that needs to “cook” just a little longer before he can join us!

What a Meal!

Milton and I love to have date nights!  We also love to eat so when we can combine date night with food it’s a win-win situation.  On Saturday, March 24 we went to eat at Smokey Bones.  We had received a $10 gift certificate and decided to go check it out.  The food was actually very good and we both enjoyed the smokey chicken wings.  I saw some of my friends, Tanya and Kellie, there and we had a nice chat.

As we got up to leave the restaurant, I had some lower abdominal cramping.  It was uncomfortable to walk.  Once we got home, I went upstairs to lay down but there was too much pressure to sit up straight.  I don’t remember the rest of the night,  I just know I leaned back and was knocked out.  Milton says I was in a lot of pain.

The next morning I was fine.  I called my friend that is an OB-GYN and told her what happened.  She suggested to follow up with my doctor if I continue to feel pressure.  The rest of the day Sunday was fine.  I went and met with the Derby City Naturals, taught a couple of Zumba songs, went to a Challenge Party and relaxed more with Milton.  Monday was fine too.  The day went as planned including teaching Zumba later that night.

Tuesday ran it’s course… until I started doing Zumba.  During the class, I kept feeling pressure again in my lower abdomen.  It wasn’t to the same extent as Saturday, but I definitely felt pressure.  I assumed it was baby growing and moving while I was dancing.  I also, though, had diarrhea which was uncommon. I came home around 8:00pm, Milton had cooked dinner, we ate, we watched my show “Dance Moms” and I still felt some discomfort.  We decided to call the on-call doctor just to be safe.

I told her my symptoms and she suggested I go on and come into Baptist East Labor and Delivery just to be safe.  This was close to 10:30pm.  Once I came in, they attached me to a contractions monitor.  It showed that I was having contractions every 2-3 minutes. YIKES!!  The odd thing, though, was that I couldn’t feel myself having them.  I was given a shot of terbutaline to stop the contractions.  I hated this medicine because it made me feel real jittery.  After about an hour, they checked the monitors and the contractions had lessened. A nurse checked my cervix and didn’t think I had dialated.  I was sent home around 12:30am and told to call my regular doctor in the morning for a follow up appointment and relax from Zumba until they could check me out.

I would have never guessed what all would have happened next!

Naturally Threatening


Naturally Threatening

I must come across as someone to be feared.  Or maybe my massive size intimidates people.  Maybe, just maybe, my smile exudes something that makes people want to walk on the other side of the street. I’m not sure what exactly it is, but I was recently viewed as a national threat.

And of all the places it happened – I was in Las Vegas. Yes, the home of crazy people who go to blend in with other crazy people.  Yes, the birthplace of drive-through marriages and unlimited booze and gambling.  Of all the people that look suspicious, little ole me (sober and pregnant) gets picked out.

Now, I didn’t get noticed until we were leaving Vegas. As a matter of fact, we were at the airport getting ready to fly home.  Although every line was packed, Milton and I were in the line that had the state of the art security machine.  Not the one that looks like a bridge and you just walk under it. No, this was the one that is a circular device where you put your feet on the mat, hold you hands high and then the machine moves around your body taking an image to make sure you aren’t concealing anything.

Minus the fact that they probably now knew the sex of our unborn child, I passed with flying colors and was shuffled on through.  Or so I thought!  As soon as I stepped out, the TSA agent standing there said, “M’am I love your natural hair, but I’m going to have to pat it down.”  Now, of course I’m sitting here wondering what in the world could I be hiding in my hair that wasn’t visible on the security image.  My natural hair is not that long and I doubt I could smuggle any drugs in it. So I asked the lady (who was of a non-white decent) why she had to do it.  In a very apologetic voice she said, “I’m so sorry, my sister has hair just like yours and I love her hairstyle.  But I’m required to do this for my job.”

I knew the charge came down from powers much higher than her so I let it go.  All she did was place her gloved hand on top of my hand and press down once.  And I was on my way.  As we arrived at our gate, I reflected on the situation. Was I offended by what happened?  Yes, to an extent. Do I think it’s discriminatory. Yes, to an extent.  Do I blame the woman that did it?  No.  I just find it interesting that the bump on my stomach is way larger than the puff on my head, but not one person stopped to pat down my stomach.  It’s sad that we still live in a culture where certain ethnicities have certain stereotypes attached.  I understand protecting our country….. but when is the last time an African-American woman was on the news for terroristic threats?!