Friday, February 1, 2013


Okay.  That was horrible.  

Around 3:00 this afternoon it occurred to me that I hadn't been paying attention to Matt's kicks.  So I stood still, focusing my attention, and realized that while he was moving occasionally, his movements were weak and subtle.  Nothing at all like the punches and kicks I have been getting.  

So I called the nurse on call.  

Well, you get the receptionist for some after-hours service, of course.  I explained that I was getting weak fetal movement and had a history of stillbirth.  She assured me someone would call me back as soon as possible.  

So I called Mike.  

He tried to stay calm and strong for me, but you could tell we were both freaking out.  

So I called Cristina.  

An amazing friend, nurse, and also a BLM, she assured me I needed to just go to the hospital and do an NST.  For a while, I hemmed and hawed, not sure whether I should wait for confirmation from the nurse on call.

So I called her again.  

This time I got a little huffy, explained I was freaking out, currently getting NO movement, and needed someone to help me NOW.  They again took my name and info, and promised a phone call as soon as possible.

That was it.  I wasn't waiting around to find out when they would finally call.  So I took Cristina's advice and just got in the car.  I drove to the same hospital--the single place that houses my best and worst memories in life, and kept it together until I parked and got Liv unloaded.  

Then I ran into K.  

Another loss mom from our local organization, K and her husband had been speaking to a group of nurses regarding care of families post-loss.  I felt like I was outside my mind when I saw them, and probably acted pretty insane.  But they completely understood when I told them why I was there.  I half-walked away from them.  I probably was insane.  K asked after me, wanting to help, and when I started to wander off, she offered prayers.  

I half-ran to the elevators.

I got to L&D as quickly as I could, and with tears pouring down my cheeks, I started to fill out paperwork.  I didn't notice the elevator opening.  But I did notice when K stepped beside me.  I'm not sure I can explain to her how much it meant to me that she followed me in.  She knows what it's like, and knew that I needed her.  There are just no words.  In her overwhelming kindness, she offered to stay with me and keep Liv.  Thank God for her.

I finished my paperwork and the receptionist disappeared.  Still sobbing, I didn't notice who was talking to me, until she grabbed me.  Jen, Carpenter's nurse.  Standing right there in front of me, ready to help me and Matt.  She took me, Liv and K back to triage and wasted no time getting me on the monitors.  He was fine.  She told me based on the data she saw, he was one of the strongest 25-week-olds she'd ever seen.  Thank God for her.  

Jen made sure Liv was happy with stickers and popsicles.  Of course, K had her spoiled with books, fawning over Liv's favorite new shoes.  But then Jen said the magic words that washed even more calm than a healthy heartbeat..."Dr. L is here.  He's coming to see you."  

Thank God for him.

He walked me through all potential causes for me to notice diminished movement, even though Matthew was moving very well.  Then he grabbed the ultrasound wand and showed me physically that none of those possibilities were an issue.  He assured me it was probably a question of not eating or drinking enough today, and Matthew was fine.

Thank God for them.

I do not say that lightly.  Thank God for the people who were with me today.  Every step of the way, I know God was putting the right people in exactly the right places to help me through this.  I know He was watching over me today, putting me in the hands of people who are truly caring and concerned about me and my sweet boy.  I have nothing fancy to say.  There's no moral to this story.  I just felt that I needed to publicly express my thanks to Cristina, K, Jen and my doctor for all being there for me today.  Thank God for you.  

...oh.  It took two hours before I got a message from the nurse on call.  So there is a moral:  Do NOT wait for "permission" to go to the hospital if you're worried.  That is why they are there.  They understand.  Just go in.  You will not regret it. 


  1. I can only imagine your panic. Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. Thankful that all is well with your little one. ((HUGS))

    1. Debby, thank you so much. The prayers mean everything. I do hope YOU are well too!

  2. I am so glad Matt was okay. Everyone needs to read this that is expecting! I am so glad you had the guts to trust your instincts and get to the hospital! I also had a similar experience with my second pregnancy after my first one ended in stillbirth. I had a housefull of guests when I realized Collins hadn't moved all day! I yelled for my sister to come with me in the bedroom. We moved my big belly around and evidently woke Collins up because I got a kick and others followed. I cried my eyes out with relief. He was born at his due time just perfect! I'll never forget that day of sheer panic!

    1. It's the worst feeling in the world, right? Well, short of the actual stillbirth. We've lost that sweet naivety that let us calmly walk through these incidents.

  3. Ugh! Thank god for all of them!

    Deep down...I dread this day. I hope I never have to experience that panic...but if I do, I for SURE am just heading in if I don't hear immediately from the nurse!

    1. Jen, that is awesome to hear! You get your butt to the hospital whenever you want! Because we know all too well what can happen... Hugs!