Once the doctor confirmed I was carrying a baby, I went on to have a seemingly normal pregnancy—one filled with constant nausea, heartburn, and fatigue. And although I was suffering physically, I was so grateful that my little bean was viable that I welcomed the symptoms as signs of his existence.
For the next 29 weeks, I spent my time going to the doctor, getting my blood drawn, and checking my weight. My appetite was nonexistent, and I lost 12 pounds during my first trimester. My doctor wasn’t concerned and assured me that this was normal. As far as she was concerned, “everything looked great!” Until it didn’t.
Each visit starting around 20 weeks, I had to get an abdomen measurement. The doctor would place a measuring tape at the top of my pubic bone and run it across my belly. If all went well, then I would measure the same as my current week of pregnancy. So if I was 22 weeks, then I would measure about 22 centimeters. During my 28th week of pregnancy, my doctor informed me that my belly was measuring behind. She explained that many women carried “small” but wanted to be safe and scheduled my ultrasound the following week.
WEEK 29
After hearing the baby was potentially at risk, I became nervous. And Kasee could sense it. He requested time off so he could attend and comfort me during the appointment. These were in the early stages of COVID-19, so I called the hospital the day before to confirm a guest could accompany me. Luckily, the operator confirmed it was “business as usual.”
When we arrived the following morning, security stopped us at the entrance and notified us that only I, the patient, could enter the building. So in proper pregnant lady form, I began crying. Kasee rubbed my back and assured me everything would be okay. So I left him and started my way to the ultrasound tech.
Once I was in the examining room, the tech began testing, and I could see that the baby was still very active. Seeing him wiggle eased my concerns about his health, but I still had a lingering fear. Once the tech finished, she asked me to wait for the doctor’s report. An hour later, the doctor informed me that the baby weighed 3 pounds, far less than he should at his gestational age. She told me that there could be several reasons for this:
- The baby is small because its parents are also naturally small people.
- A condition called intrauterine growth restriction (IUGR). This happens when the unborn baby doesn’t get the nutrients and oxygen needed to grow and develop organs and tissues.
- There are severe problems with the placenta.
- The baby has a developmental or genetic problem.
She expressed that she wasn’t overly concerned, but wanted to keep a close eye on me. I left the hospital crying and met Kasee at the car to unload all of the new information. In that moment, I could tell that he was beginning to worry, but we said a prayer and promised we’d leave it in God’s hands.
WEEK 30
The following Tuesday, I nervously entered the hospital, hoping for news that my baby had somehow grown overnight. Unfortunately, it was quite the opposite. Not only did the baby measure behind, but there was unusual blood flow to the placenta. My doctor said she still wasn’t overly concerned because the baby was thriving, but wanted to monitor us both of us until I gave birth. With that news, she left the room and had the clerk schedule me an appointment Friday.
I notified my manager that I would be late 3 days out of the week. 1 day for my general OB checkup, and twice for the measurement exams.
WEEK 31
FRIDAY
Three days later, I returned to have the baby’s growth checked. He was still only measuring 3 pounds, which put him at < 1% percentile. My doctor said the blood flow to the placenta looked poor and asked if I was still feeling the baby kick regularly. I confirmed I was.
She explained that stillbirth was a real risk and instructed me to start doing kick counts. This meant I had to make sure that I felt at least ten movements (kicks, flutters, or rolls) every hour. She told me that if I even THOUGHT there were less than ten movements before our next appointment, I needed to go to the emergency room and prepare to have the baby. My heart sank.
I spent the weekend counting every little kick, and honestly, the baby was so good. I only needed ten movements per hour, and he was kicking ten times per minute. His activities eased my mind, but I was still prepared to monitor him for the remaining nine weeks.
TUESDAY -8am
When I returned to the doctor on Tuesday, the concern on her face frightened me. She said that the blood flow looked worse. And although the baby was thriving, she wasn’t comfortable sending me home without doing some additional tests. She told me to make all of my appointments for the next two months and admitted me to labor and delivery.
Since I was in Labor and Delivery, I was allowed one guest. I called Kasee, frantically explained the situation, and asked him to sit with me during the 8-hour monitoring.
TUESDAY-9am
When I entered my new room, a kind older nurse greeted me. I could tell she sensed my fear as she began to make small talk. She explained that she would be monitoring four things
- My heartbeat
- The baby’s heart beat
- My blood pressure
- Contractions
Once she hooked me to the machine, she asked me what we planned to name the baby. I told her, “Grayson.”
She wrote, “STAY IN GRAYSON” on the stats board, and we shared a quick laugh. She told me to sit tight and promised she’d come and check on me in about an hour.
Fifteen minutes later, she returned and asked if I was nervous. I told her I was. She said that my blood pressure was spiking, but that was normal when dealing with unexpected news. She urged me to relax and left again.
TUESDAY-11 am
Kasee arrived with a smile and Whataburger in hand. We talked about the crazy situation while HGTV played in the background. Shortly after his arrival, the nurse re-entered the room and told me that my blood pressure was back to normal. She joked that my husband’s handsome face could calm any woman down. We shared another laugh and she left.
Kasee and I finished our lunch, and he went to take a work call. I turned my attention back to Property Brothers and began to doze off.
tuesday-12 pm
The nurse re-entered the room; only this time, another nurse accompanied her. They reviewed the screen, exchanged some medical terms, and told me that the doctor would be coming in to speak with me soon.
The doctor entered the room and explained I had preeclampsia, which, left untreated, could lead to severe — even fatal — complications for both the baby and me. She went on to say that the most effective treatment is the delivery of the baby.
After a brief pause, she smiled and concluded that the nurses would be prepping me for the operating room shortly. And that’s when the real fun began!