Today I sat in my doctors office, for a non-stress test for the baby. I was hooked up to several cords, and listened as baby girl's heart beat aloud on the machine next to me. In my hand I held a small remote with a button at the top and was instructed to push the button each time I felt her move. It had been my third week in a row of having the non-stress test, so I was well aware of what to do and expect.
At first baby girl was somewhat active, moving around with slight movements from one side to the next, but soon I realized she must have fallen asleep as she stayed still while her heart beat rhythmically.
This was the second non-stress test I had had in less than 12 hours. See last night, in the middle of the night, Jarrett and I made a trip to the hospital for the exact same reason. As each and every night for the last several months has been I was up my usual 7, 8, 10, 12, maybe even 15 times to go to the bathroom, to drink more water, to toss and turn. And with each time I get up, my routine of going back to "sleep" is the same. Rub my stomach, wait to feel her move, nudge or shift inside even so slightly before I allow myself to drift back to sleep.
Last night was no different in my routine, except from 11:30 ish until 1:00ish I couldn't get her to respond. At first I thought, well she must be alseep, and I almost fell back asleep until I realized I hadn't felt her. So I jiggled my belly, rubbing it back and forth. That will jostle her I thought. Nothing. Then I reached for my water bottle with ice still in it and took a big gulp. I laid back down and waited... nothing. Hmmm, I thought, that's strange, she's usually so responsive. I laid there and began to stew. I tried to tell myself it was all okay, but sadly couldn't control the thoughts racing through my mind.
I reached over across the bed to try and wake Jarrett. He was no where to be found. I called out his name. JARRETT. Nothing. Then I got out of bed worried. I looked for a light on outside our room, perhaps he was still working. No light on. I walked out into the hallway and called his name. Finally he responded and I could tell he was still half asleep. "What are you doing on the couch?" I said still trying to control my panic and worry, while trying to reassure myself, it was all okay. Jarrett responded saying I was snoring too loud and he couldn't get to sleep. I was too worried to laugh at his obviously "wrong" statement (I don't snore... even though I've packed on several pounds and am wholly sure I'm probably a snoring machine).
Jarrett, I interrupted him, "I can't get the baby to move, I'm really scared." He, at this point, had sat up and was rubbing his eyes while I turned on several lights. "Mom, I"m sure everything is okay. She's probably just sleeping. Why don't you drink some juice and lay down, she'll probably move." I followed his direction, pouring a glass of OJ, knowing full well, I'd pay for the acidity later. I laid back down, rubbed my belly again to agitate her and waited for a response. After about 10 minutes, I had had enough... no response and my fear was through the roof. "I want to go to the hospital to make sure she's okay."
Jarrett, hearing my request, didn't argue or question, but immediately got on the phone and we started calling on our "on-call" family to help come over to stay with the kids. Twenty minutes later we were headed out the door.... I grabbed our hospital bags on the way out. Not knowing how this trip would turn out, I wanted to be prepared.
Driving to the hospital, I continued to rub my stomach, while Jarrett attempted to make small talk. I couldn't focus on anything but getting her to move. A few miles away from the hospital, I finally felt a subtle movement and hoped it wasn't my mind playing tricks on me, but really was her moving. I told Jarrett I thought I felt her. We both decided we wanted to still go to the hospital... we've learned getting peace of mind is priceless.
Despite the full moon and everything you hear about that with hospitals and labor, the parking lot seemed quiet. And thankfully, when we arrived at OB triage, there wasn't very many people and when I told the registration lady I was there because of decreased fetal movement, she had me registered and in a room within 3 minutes.
Denise, a nurse we had had previously with Noah, appeared in our room and asked what was going on. I explained I was scared because baby hadn't been moving as much as normal, and she was completely reassuring, telling me it was great we had come in. She pulled out the equipment and was soon picking the ideal place to put the monitor on my stomach. As soon as she placed it on the center of my stomach, we heard the most beautiful sound. Seriously, Denise even said it, "Isn't that the most beautiful sound in the world?" It was baby girl's heartbeat... steady, strong and just as they want it. I immediately felt relief and said "thank you." Denise said, "It is my pleasure, if only my entire night was filled with great couples who wanted to come in and hear their precious baby's heartbeat, it would be a great night." Again I felt relief that the decision we made to come in, wasn't being judged, that it was always better to be safe, and that the most important thing was baby girl is okay.
Twenty minutes later, after we had listened carefully and watched the monitors we were on our way back home. Yes we had lost several hours of sleep (well actually it was probably only about 45 minutes of sleep I would have missed), and we sadly bothered/interrupted our family's sleep, but the fear that had ravaged my insides was silenced. That was worth every dollar and sacrifice of inconvenience and sleep for me.
Sitting back in Dr. A's office hooked up to the monitors I glanced over at my phone to see it had been 26 minutes I had been hooked up. I watched as each contraction was recorded on the paper, along with baby girls' heart rate. A few minutes later Dr. A's nurse appeared in the room, took one glance at the paper and said, "Don't you feel her move?" I said, "I think she's fallen asleep." She said, "Oh well, I'm going to leave you on for a bit longer, and we're gonna try to wake her up." She placed some sort of contraption next to my stomach, pushed a button that made some sound in several places, and said, "that should wake her up." She then disappeared out of the room again. I texted Jarrett to give him an update, "Baby's heartbeat is good, but she's not moving very much again. They are keeping me hooked up to the monitors for a while longer." I tried not to worry. I waited for baby girl to move.... nothing. I tried to rub my stomach in places, where she usually has her arm or her leg. In my mind I said, "Come on baby girl... wake up." Ten more minutes went by and finally I felt her move slightly in my lower stomach. I pushed the button and a few more times I felt her. Push push push... I wanted to be sure each movement was recorded. After 47 minutes of being hooked up to the monitor. Dr. A's nurse finally disconnected me and moved me to an exam room. She said, "Dr. A is okay with the last movements we've seen." Again I tried to push the fear down and away.
I sat in Dr. A's office, looking out the window, waiting for him and told myself, "we've made it." I'm two days away from 36 weeks and Dr. A said all along, "We're gonna get you to 36 weeks, I believe it." In the few minutes it was before he appeared inside the room, I reflected back on the past 9 months. What a transformation I've gone through.
Nine months ago, I remember waking up in the morning with little to no will to go throughout the day and did my best just to find a means to get through. I remember forcing myself to read the card that still is plastered on our bathroom mirror. It was the card Melanie had given me when I confided in her about just how devastated and destroyed I felt I was after losing Noah.
It was one of the first things I saw in the morning and many days it was questioned more than believed. Melanie had given it to me after she had used it herself after going through a hard time and she told me, "Angie I know you will get through this too. I believe in you... be strong. You can do this. Don't give up." I didn't have much faith left in the world, but I knew she was one of many who had faith in me, so I continued to try.
And then we found out about "Sweetie Pie" and the emotional marathon of emotions began again.
This is the night I told Jarrett, we were pregnant again. Such a healing moment. And still so much fear.
And with each week of this pregnancy that passed, we allowed ourselves to believe a little bit more. While working through the grief in losing Noah, of finding a way to always have him be a part of our lives, and to honor him in the life we lead here.
With each month that passed, I felt myself coming out of a dark tunnel, sometimes sneaking back inside when the fear became too great, the doubt overwhelming, but still somehow finding a way to take one more step forward.
Through scares with the baby... when they couldn't find her heartbeat at what was supposed to be 8 weeks (why my due date is backed up almost 10 days) and they thought the pregnancy didn't take (something I've never shared before), or at 22 weeks when my weekly ultrasound showed that I was headed again for pre-term labor and put on bedrest, or the constant contractions and fear of my water breaking again. So many scary moments, so many moments fear raged its ugly head. But here we are... almost 36 weeks, with a healthy baby, a strong heartbeat and a team of doctors who believed in us, in her, the whole time.
What a transformation is right I thought, just as Dr. A appeared at my side, saying as he always has, "So nice to see you." He smiled, "Look where we are today!" He showed me on his computer.... 35 weeks, and 5 days.... two days away from 36 weeks! Incredible." I smiled, and told him just how grateful I am for all he has done to get us here. He said, "I believed we were going to make it here, although we had to fight for everything didn't we."
He went on to share with me that in two days I can stop taking the Nifedipine and the new instructions for when I go to the hospital... when I"m in active labor. And that they won't stop it. If she's born now, her lungs will be good and that we can celebrate. He then went onto say, that while their office has a team of doctors and usually the doctor on call will deliver, he said, "if its okay with you I'd love to be there when you deliver and your daughter is born. He then reached for my cell phone on the chair next to him, handed it to me and said, "I'm going to give you my cell phone number... you call or text me when you are in labor and I'll meet you at the hospital." I was deeply touched. I said, "We'd feel very honored if you were there. Thank you for offering to be there in this special time for us." Again, I can't speak enough about just how wonderfully we've been cared for by our team of doctors.
As I left Dr. A's office he said, "I don't think you're going to have this baby for another couple of weeks." He continued, "I'm taking my kids to Disneyland at the end of next week, so I'll be gone from Thursday til Sunday, but then I"m back and I'll be available for your call." I smiled and said, "Sounds great."
Leaving Dr. A's office this morning, I realized throughout this journey I've gone through a huge transformation, finding joy and happiness in life, a reason to look forward to the future and through that a reason to keep living. This baby has brought me back to life and taught me its okay to live here in the now and that while I long to be with my son Noah, that, that day will come, but until then I need to be here. I've also found that Noah continues to remind us that he's here... in a different way than what I wanted or planned... he's still here.
While I've received reassurances and confirmation that everything is okay, I find myself still being scared. I think its the trauma of what we've lived through. Is there anything worse than losing a child? I don't know, but my guess is losing two children would have to be. I think that's why I'm still so scared of what could happen. I tell myself that I'll never fully breathe a sigh of relief until my living, breathing, full of life daughter is in my arms crying out in a beautiful newborn cry. At that moment, the sound of her heartbeat inside of me will transform from being the most beautiful sound.... and be replaced with the beautiful sound of her tiny cry. For I know then that this journey of pregnancy will be over and a new journey will begin. I'm confident that the new journey will include fear, but that's a new phase and a new challenge I look forward to.
Until then, I'm gonna hold onto my faith that we will bring home a healthy Sweetie Pie and that all is gonna be okay. Oh and in case I needed one more sign of reassurance, I just got it tonight.
See that around the full moon....
Yes, the picture doesn't do it justice... but it's a full rainbow around the moon. My friend Sonya texted me just as Jarrett got home from Gabriel's baseball game. They both had the same message... "This is gonna sound strange, but there is a rainbow around the moon." Dad said.
Sonya said, "It appears there is a rainbow around the moon. Bizarre right? My first thought was maybe its pollution, but then I was like, what if its baby Noah? Even in darkness God sends us light and rainbows."
I couldn't have said it any better myself. Even in the darkness of fear and being so scared, there's always a rainbow of hope present.. we just have to open our eyes to see it.
Until next time,
angie
