Listen To Your Body - C's Birth Story

It's been a LONG time since I was pregnant, so I don't have a lot of advice to offer in this area. I'd never planned to share the story of C's birth on my blog, but a friend encouraged me to pass on the scary lesson I learned twenty years ago.  It ends well, so maybe it will help someone else.

In 1995, my older son was born five weeks early after an induced labor. One day later and he probably wouldn't have lived.  Here's the story.

Prior to my pregnancy with C I had a miscarriage, so when I found out I was expecting again we were excited but apprehensive.  During the first trimester I was really sick.  I lost ten pounds and eventually had to go on medication to combat the nausea.

By four months I was feeling better, and the middle part of my pregnancy flew by with no complications.  With six weeks to go, at a routine exam, my doctor noticed that my belly hadn't grown from my previous visit.  She sent me for an ultrasound, and it was determined that my amniotic fluid was low.  The baby seemed to be tolerating the situation just fine, so I was sent home on bedrest.

A week went by and I was already getting bored with the whole laying around thing.  I wish I had known to appreciate that wonderful gift of rest and relaxation before the arrival of a newborn.  On Tuesday afternoon I was reading on the couch, and realized that I hadn't felt C moving much that day.  I was supposed to be doing "kick counts", but I have to admit I hadn't been following doctor's orders.  I got out my watch and a piece of paper to start recording the baby's activity.  If it took more than two hours to feel ten movements, it could signal a problem.

Very quickly I became concerned.  I would feel a small kick here and there, but nothing consistent.  I tried a glass of orange juice to wake him up, but that didn't help.  At this point I was starting to get worried.  I called my doctor's office and the nurse didn't seem very concerned, but told me I could go to the hospital if I wanted.  Which I did.

I was hooked up for a non-stress test, and the results weren't encouraging. C was definitely sluggish.  His heart rate was in the lower range of normal, and his movements didn't cause the rate to go up very much.  The nurse called for a wheelchair to send me downstairs for an ultrasound.

The technician conducted a biophysical profile, and the news got more distressing.  Five components of fetal health were tested, with each one receiving a score of 0 (abnormal) or 2 (normal).  A score of 8 or 10 is good, 6 is borderline, and below 6 is worrisome.  C got a 4.

When the test was done the technician left the room to consult with the doctor, and my husband and I waited and worried.  Was I going to lose this baby too, after eight months?  A radiologist returned a few minutes later and confirmed that the ultrasound had shown NO amniotic fluid left, and the baby wasn't doing well.

I was whisked back upstairs to the maternity floor where they immediately gave me medicine to start labor.  My doctor felt that we could try a vaginal delivery as long as I had constant monitoring, but she told me to be prepared for an emergency C-section if things went downhill.  My poor husband was in shock. He kept saying, "But we don't even have any diapers yet!"

Labor progressed and C hung in there just fine, and the next morning at 11:15 he arrived to a room filled with doctors and NICU nurses.  I was allowed to hold him for a few minutes before he was whisked off to the special care nursery, where he stayed for a week.  Even though he was five weeks early, he weighed six pounds, his lungs were developed and healthy, and he suffered no long term effects from his pre-natal adventure.

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Later that afternoon the nurse who had conducted my non-stress test stopped by my room.  She thanked me for paying attention to my baby's movements the day before, and told me that if I had waited another 24 hours to come in, C would most likely have died in utero.  Sobering.  It may be the only time in my life that my anxious personality did me some good.  

Testing showed that my placenta had calcified and stopped working like it should.  During my next pregnancy I saw a specialist in Seattle and we finally figured out what was going on with the fluid.  Let's just say my body is NOT good at being pregnant.  But that's another story.

The lesson?  Listen to your body and your instincts, pregnant or not.  If you think something is wrong, have it checked out.  If everything is okay, great. Just don't be the person who waits 24 hours, afraid of inconveniencing others or overreacting.  I'm so glad I didn't.