As a 37-year-old mother-to-be, you are just old enough for the doctors to start taking extra precautions. I was told that the new recommendation for pregnant moms my age is to do extra testing in the last 3 weeks of pregnancy: an NST (non stress test - where they monitor the babies heart rate and movement) at the beginning of each week and an ultrasound at the end of each week.
It was my choice - the doctors said - if I actually wanted to take the time to do it. And fortunately, I figured better safe than sorry. Plus, who wouldn't want extra pictures (ultrasounds) of their baby-to-be. (See how sweet...)
So, that's how I found myself yesterday morning getting an ultrasound. Mom came with me, because she wanted to see the pictures too. But following the pictures, the doctor walked into our room and stated straight out:
"You're in trouble. We're sending you to the hospital."
Well, that caused me to sit up and pay attention. My eyes widened, and yes, got watery. As it turns out, my amniotic fluid (which they measure when you do an ultrasound) had dropped from 11 the week before to 5.5 yesterday. 5 is still the low end of normal, but the precipitous drop caused concern.
The Plan: Per the doctor I was to go to the hospital, get the baby on a permanent heart rate monitor, and get an IV. The hospital would check my amniotic fluids the next day, and if levels still low, induce.
The doctor told us we had time to go home and pack bag, but she advised against taking a long lunch before heading to Mercy Gilbert.
Pretty much, the directive to go to the hospital was discombobulating for the whole family. My Mom, who had driven me to the appointment, had trouble driving me back to the office to get my car (trying to turn left instead of right). Kevin, who answered in the middle of a work meeting after I rung him twice in a row, sat a shell-shocked 'til his co-workers sent him home. And Nathan may have been the most panicked of all, as I left him with work assignments while gathering stuff from my desk.
By the time I got home, Kevin was already there. We were all anxious, and we began throwing things in a suitcase that we thought we might need. FYI, I had told Kevin the night before that he should help me get our suitcases packed. He had even written it down on a list (see below), but it clearly didn't get done.
Suitcase, infant car seat, and stem cell collection kit in hand, we hustled out the door. Kevin was a little more impatient than normal with the other drivers on the road. I tapped away at texts to family and friends who needed to know.
So this is us, entering the hospital. Because as anxiety riddled as we were, it was important to memorialize the happy occasion of our child's (potential) birth.
Now I've sat around for more than 24 hours, getting those IV fluids. Vivienne's heart rate has stayed continuously strong. And they haven't taken me down for the AFI (Amniotic Fluid Index) test yet. But we'll keep you posted.
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