The Most Exciting Yet Terrifying Time of Your Life

If I had to describe pregnancy in one sentence, that would be it.  It's the most exciting yet terrifying time of your life.  Exciting for very obvious reasons, and terrifying because everything that happens (mostly) is out of your control.  Yes you can eat well, stay active and avoid all of the "bad" things they tell you not to do while you are pregnant, but for the most part, you have no control over the little life that is growing inside of you. 

Thankfully, God does, but the loss of control over something that is so so SO important to you can be terrifying.

I will give you a perfect example of this.  I had my 37 week appointment last Thursday, which I posted on.  Everything was fine.  He was fine, I was fine, he was head down, we were good to go.

After my appointment I was a little bit uncomfortable, and went to work.  I began to notice throughout the morning, that Puddin' wasn't quite as active as normal.  Usually, I feel him pretty much on and off all day long, and will for sure get a reaction if I jiggle/pat my stomach.  I started to really try to get some movements around lunchtime, and didn't.

Now, the doctors will tell you at each appointment that you should be able to count 10 movements in one hour (also called "kick counts").  Any drop in this over an hour is supposed to be followed by a call to the doctor.  Thankfully, even though he has his "slow days," I have never experienced this before.

But around 1:30 or so, I realized that I could not get a movement out of him, and only remembered feeling anything before my appointment that morning at 9:00.  I began to get worried, but was afraid I was overreacting, so I tried harder to wiggle him to respond - nothing.

I called the doctor around 2:00, and thankfully got a nurse on the phone who told me that I needed to come in to Labor and Delivery and get checked out, just in case.  By that time, I knew this wasn't normal for him, so I just grabbed my purse from my desk and ran to my car to head to the hospital.  Thankfully (and this hardly ever happens during the week), but Anthony was not working and was able to head to the hospital right away.

My drive to the hospital was the longest drive ever.  I was talking to my belly, patting it, pushing it, and clapping super loud: anything I could think to do to get him to move.  I could feel his outline in my stomach, but even pushing it produced nothing.  The tears and fear began to take over.

I flew into the valet line and ran inside to the third floor.  At this point, you feel like every second counts, and the poor valet guy had to chase me through the lobby to hand me my phone.  I had to fill out some paperwork (really? now?!) and then I was brought back to a room full of nurses.  Thankfully, they saw how upset I was and didn't even have me change before I got on the table and they tried to find his heartbeat.

Can I just tell you that those few seconds, laying there on that table, before they put the heartbeat monitor on my stomach, were suffocating.  You haven't felt your baby move for hours, and then all you want to hear is that one sound - the heartbeat.  The one thing to tell you that hopefully everything is ok.  I was still by myself at this point, and felt like I was going to pass out.

But then I heard it.  That sweet, sweet sound - his heartbeat was glorious, and not in distress.  That calmed my fears just a bit, but I was so worked up by then that my teeth were chattering when I was trying to answer the doctor's questions!

They brought in an ultrasound machine to do a biophysical profile.  It's basically a timed (30 minute) ultrasound where they will check different stats of the baby (fluid levels, movements, breathing movements, etc).  They would prefer you get 8 out of 10 points during that 30-minute time frame.  We barely got 6 out of 10, and over the whole 30 minutes (even with tons of wiggling, mushing, pushing my belly), got 1 very small movement out of Puddin'.  Basically, I failed that test.

During this first ultrasound, we also learned that little stinker is breech!  His head is up in my right side, butt is down, and his legs are straight up over his head.  Basically, he is a paperclip!  You can imagine my surprise when I was told mere hours earlier by TWO people that he was head down.  We had no idea his butt felt like his head, but we were surprised (and a bit bummed too, because this meant automatic C-section).  After they discussed manually turning him, it was decided that due to his position, it wouldn't be very successful, and the risks (pre-term water breaking, placental abruption, etc.) even though they were extremely low, weren't worth it.

So, after that surprise, we still couldn't get him to move.  We were sent to the perinatal division on the 8th floor right before they closed to have yet another ultrasound done.  This nurse even buzzed him with the little buzzer thing before getting started.  Even though we didn't get any big movements (or any that I could feel), we got enough movement out of him to be cleared and head home.  She saw him play with his hands in his mouth and take in some amniotic fluid, and that was about it.

Even though we don't have an explanation of why he was so lethargic, we were just so relieved to have good news and to be able to go home, that it didn't matter anymore.  I told them he better be that good of a sleeper when he comes out!

I did finally feel some good moves later on that evening, and I guess he was out of his mood and ready to play again.  I can't even describe that feeling, and for sure is nothing to take for granted that we both got a clean bill of health and even though we have to have a C-section, nothing beats knowing he is ok.

I ended up having some "real" contractions overnight that night, so took that Friday off to make sure it wasn't anything other than a reaction from my stomach being pummeled earlier that day.  Those eventually wore off, and I was able to get some rest and relax - just what I needed after the day before, that is for sure!

While it was something I never hope to experience again, I was relieved to know that I knew my body (and baby) well enough to realize that something wasn't quite right, and I was reassured by the nurses that I had done the right thing by coming in.  In this instance, there is no amount of "overreacting" that is bad - I will overreact every day if I have to; as long as this little man makes it into this world safe and sound, overreact away...