it finally happened.
it took 26 weeeks and 3 days to have my first panic attack over not feeling the baby move.
my eyes are still swollen and my body exhausted after spending an hour or two at the hospital last night.
but my heart is ever so grateful for a baby resting comfortably (albeit quietly) in my womb.
i had three distinct thoughts yesterday where i wondered if i had felt the baby move. it wasn’t until damon actually posed the question late last night, “how’s lucky doing today?” that i really started to worry how lucky actually was. i tried to reassure myself that i had felt slight movement during elli’s basketball game, but i couldn’t shake it. and the final straw came shortly after i posted on my blog last night- as i lay in bed trying to get to sleep after a very long day.
all of the sudden, the thought popped into my mind again, “when was the last time you knew without a doubt that the baby was moving?” and i didn’t know. my blood pressure started to escalate, but i tried to talk myself down in my head while i gently shook my tummy. no reaction.
i sat upright in bed. damon asked what was wrong and immediately offered to say a prayer with me. he asked that we would be reassured and calmed with the movement of the baby…”if it be thy will”. what did he mean “if it be thy will”?!! i needed reassurance right then- and i wasn’t getting it. deeper panic.
i left the bedroom and went downstairs and drank a glass of juice.
i jumped around in the kitchen.
i started to cry.
i got on my laptop and looked up (more) ways to initiate movement inside my womb.
i shined a flashlight on my belly.
i laid on my side.
i tried to call the maternity center at the hospital, but couldn’t get the phone number right.
and then i completely freaked out. how much longer could i wait?
i couldn’t. i put my sweatshirt/bra on, grabbed my keys and kissed damon goodbye. it was about 12:30 a.m.
i drove myself to the hospital, bawling and hyper-ventilating the entire way. the phone number to the maternity center suddenly appeared in my brain, and i reached a nurse. who tried to calm me down, without blindly reassuring me that everything would be ok. i appreciated that she didn’t try and pretend like all would be well.
nobody can ever reassure me of that again.
thoughts raced through my mind:
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could this really be happening on my birthday? yes, yes, it could. anything can happen- remember?
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who can i call right now that might still be awake?
nobody.
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how in the world would i ever break the news to the kids again?
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would i even try to get pregnant again if i this baby died, too?
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why isn’t the baby moving?!!
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my teeth are chattering uncontrollably; my body was in shock. a typical sign of labor for me. more panic.
in record time (even quicker than when i was in labor with emma and fully dilated on the drive to the hospital), i arrived at the hospital and ran to the doors.
my id bracelet and chart was already waiting for me, already updated with my new age of 37. nobody noticed it was my actual birthday.
i was immediately taken back into the triage room. same nurse (Teresa) i had in triage with Calvin’s rapidly beating heartrate. same bed (number 1). holy cow. i thought i was going to throw up.
a second nurse showed up, Christine. just the perfect amount of professionalism and calmness and compassion. they quickly wrapped monitors around my belly that didn’t seem large enough to require this type of monitoring.
i wanted to tell my nurse that we didn’t know the gender of our baby, and that i wanted to make sure she didn’t ruin the surprise for me, should they end up doing an ultrasound. but it seemed really arrogant of me to be concerned about ruining the gender surprise when i didn’t even know if the baby was alive. so i kept quiet.
i closed my eyes, tears continuously streaming down my face, and waited for the reassuring sound of a baby’s heartbeat.
it didn’t come.
they couldn’t find it. my heart was racing so fast, that they kept picking up my heartrate. the 2 of them working silently together for what seemed like forever to find lucky’s heartrate.
i prayed harder than i have ever prayed in my life. i started to prepare myself for the news that there was no heartbeat. i was in another world.
why was this taking so long?
and then: a simple heartbeat.
and a little kick. (get this monitor off me; i’m trying to sleep!) and then several more.
release.
i texted damon: found a heartbeat! :)
he texted back: yay! <300 bpm, hopefully.
i laughed. i was back. my world had opened up once again.
gratitude.
for technology.
for answered prayers
for a husband who actively took part in finding ways to reassure me instead of just telling me not to worry
for the sound of a {normal} heartbeat.
for this baby, who i suddenly wanted to be healthy and alive more than i’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
and then i was kept on monitors for another hour or so while my sweet nurse updated my charts and did most of the busy-work for the pre-admittance process for my c-section. and she called dr. gavrila and informed him that i was there, being monitored. and, of course, he was awesome. and the nurse got his permission to release me. but not before she gave me a set of velcro monitoring belts to put on my belly, with a bar of soap to use for pressure, to stimulate movement. just in case i ever panicked and wanted instant reassurance.
just in case.
and, thus my birthday was extended a few more hours. as this little visit allowed me to stay awake for almost an entire 24 hours on my birthday.
now, i have a headache. and my eyes are nearly swollen shut. and i am exhausted.
but my baby is alive and well. and kicking as we speak. and that means more to me than any amount of sleep.
last week, 2 1/2 months seemed like a perfect amount of time to get some things done and enjoy the simplicity of only having 5 children.
suddenly, 10 more weeks of pregnancy seems like a (very stressful) full-time job.
