Sunday December 13th
I woke up and was upset I hadn’t felt baby move last night as I went to sleep. I was tired of worrying about this when I was sure baby had just moved into some sort of position where I wasn’t feeling baby as usual, or maybe was just having a few lazy days. But I knew now this was time to start taking some action. So of course I hit up Google, asked for some prayers, and posted in some pregnancy app forums asking if people had experienced their baby not moving for a while? I got mixed responses – “my baby didn’t move for a few days and everything was fine”, “call your doctor right now”, “go in and get a non-stress test”. Ryan still wasn’t home from his fishing trip up north and I still wasn’t ready to call or go in… couldn’t I just wait until tomorrow during normal business hours to go to the clinic instead of the hospital? Why do these things always happen to me on the weekends? Anyway, I’ll start trying these tricks Google says to do…. Eat something sugary, drink ice cold water, lay on your left side, push on your stomach, talk to your stomach (Isla took care of that part). Nothing was eliciting a response. Finally, with Ryan on his way back from Tim’s in Buffalo, I called him and shared with him my worry. (I hadn’t told him previously because I didn’t want to ruin his time fishing and there was nothing he could do, and there was certainly nothing actually wrong – right?) He said he’d help get baby move when he got home. I was really impressed by his action… he got home around 4pm and immediately got down to my stomach and was poking and prodding and singing some of our silly songs. Ryan was pushing harder than I had and I started to get a sinking feeling…. Baby really should have moved in some way in response to that. Now that I had Ryan home I was ready to call in hopes of just finally getting some peace of mind so I could stop worrying. I got connected with my midwife Shawn who happened to be the one on call (I had been mostly seeing midwives this pregnancy with a few doctor check-ins scheduled due to my need for a c-section). She said that I should go in to get checked out. I asked “Could I just wait until tomorrow to go in to the clinic instead?” She said, “Well this is really the next step. You’ve already done everything else we would have recommended.” And “Drive slowly, the roads are slippery.” During this call my knees were shaking. I don’t like to call the doctor, it makes things real, it makes things scary. But I was ready for the worry to be over, so I got ready to leave, Ryan took over with the kids at home, and off I went by myself to Waconia. I didn’t think anyone could come with me with Covid rules, and I honestly didn’t think I would need anyone there. I was even thinking of stopping by Target on my way home to make a quick return. I got to the hospital and made my way up to the Birthing Center. As I waited by the doors for a nurse to fetch me after buzzing in… a dad walked up to the door with a tray of two meals. He had “new dad” written all over his face. So of course, I engaged in conversation with him. His wife had just given birth to their first child last night, a little earlier than expected, but everything went well. He then asked if I was visiting someone. I then pointed at my bump, slightly hidden under a cozy sweatshirt, and said, “I’m just here making sure everything is okay.” “Oh, is this your first?” he replied. “No, third actually.” Anyway a little more small talk and then he got let in before me and finally my nurse showed up to take me over to one of the side rooms to get things checked out. I explained to her what had been going on (though she knew because Shawn had called to tell them I was coming and what was going on). She had the heart monitor ready, so we got prepared to take a listen. Back and forth she went 8 times before she decided, “Okay, let’s get the ultrasound in here!” So she went to fetch the machine and I was thinking… of course, this just cant be easy. It wasn’t a good sign she couldn’t just find the heartbeat quickly, but I still was not convinced the worst was yet to come. I ripped my mask off my face as I started to feel breathing was becoming more difficult. After wheeling the ultrasound machine in, we then had to wait for the system to boot up. Once it finally turned on, my nurse, Kim, started to take a look. (Kim may very well be an angel on earth, and made my unbearable experience bearable.) When she first put the probe down we saw baby’s head to start. I knew right then something wasn’t right. This wasn’t good. Babies are always moving, turning, twitching, etc. when you see them on an ultrasound. All I could see was stillness. She moved over to the chest to find the heartbeat. I know what a heartbeat looks like. I saw it with Isla. I saw it with Lachlan. I saw it with Maisie just 10 weeks earlier at the big 20-week ultrasound, where every part of her body was perfect. I heard it just a week and a half ago at my 28-week appointment. I know to look for the 4 chambers of the heart pulsating. On the screen now, we saw nothing. Still, it didn’t fully hit me until Kim uttered, “I’m so sorry, there is no heartbeat.” “No, no, no, no.” over and over again I cried as my arm went to my face to cover my eyes. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. This isn’t happening to me right now. This is my baby! Since Kim isn’t a registered ultrasound technician – we had to get confirmation from someone certified. As we were waiting, I managed to get my crying under control and knew I needed to take some action steps. “Do I need my husband to come here?” I started. “Yes, that would probably be good,” Kim replied. “Okay, well then I need someone to watch the kids. I need to call Ryan. I need to call my mom. Who do I call first?” “I’m not sure…” “Okay, I think I will call my mom so she can start getting to my house ASAP. And then I will call Ryan.” The ultrasound technician showed up, got started, and seemed to be measuring things around my uterus. Kim, politely but firmly said, “Can we just see the heartbeat please.” Yupp… there was still nothing. And in this technician’s apparent lack of consideration, she started shutting down her machine and said, “Yeah. Not fresh.” Words like that sink into you like no other in a situation like this. My baby had been gone for days… and I was just learning of the demise now. The thought that “I must be a bad mom…” definitely ran through my head. Phone call to my mom… “Mom, I need you to babysit. You need to get to my house right now. You need to leave now, the roads are slippery.” I don’t even think I said anything else… but my mom knew my voice, knew something was wrong, and knew to just go. Call to Ryan… I’m not even sure what I said to be honest. I think it started like, “My parents are on their way to babysit. You’re going to need to come to the hospital.” I don’t think I ever said the actual words “The baby is dead.” Or “There is no heartbeat.” I think I just cried. Who knows… I just knew I now had to wait for my husband to get to me. With a box of Kleenex in hand… we moved from the small intake room to a labor and delivery room. Shawn had also been called and was en route to the hospital. At some point she arrived. And some point Ryan arrived. I was clutching a teddy bear Kim gave me. We started discussions on the next steps… which was to deliver the baby. Obviously I was going to need to be induced since I was only (but still) 30 weeks/7 months pregnant. My body didn’t know the baby was dead either and it had no plans to evacuate. Our goal for the best interests of my health, given my history of two emergency C-sections and inability to dilate past a 7, was still to try for a vaginal delivery. Hopes were I could progress to that 7 at least and still be able to get this slightly smaller baby out. A C-section in itself is a big surgery with a big recovery – and of course we don’t want that. Also, given the size of baby at this point they would have to make the cut laterally, which meant I would have another incision through my uterus and it could be hard to get the baby out at this gestation through a C-section. At the same time, a vaginal delivery posed it’s own risks because Pitocin (which starts your contractions) can be hard on a body that has endured a C-section. And there was the risk it could ultimately fail and I would end up needing to go through that process and still go to surgery. So the first step to get labor going was to insert a balloon vaginally that would then be inflated to put pressure on my cervix in turn thinning it to prepare for birth. That would need to stay in for 12 hours. I asked for that to be put in while we were there now, so then we could go home, pack bags, and put our kids to bed. But I didn’t want to stay the night at home. Let’s be real… I wasn’t going to be sleeping that night no matter where I was. And frankly I was a little uncomfortable being away from the hospital knowing what was to come. So I breathed some nitrous oxide, got my balloon inserted and inflated, and waddled out of the hospital. I drove myself home while Ryan drove our other vehicle home… because we had two vehicles there and we didn’t want that. Mimi and Papa were there playing with the kids as we arrived. There were tears and hugs. I felt I had to tell Isla what was going on that evening so she would understand why mom and dad were going to be gone for the next few days. This moment ranks in the Top 5 worst parts of this entire saga. Upon telling Isla that our baby died and was now in heaven with Jesus… she grinned & laughed nervously for a second, and then dropped to the floor in a ball and stayed there for an indeterminate amount of time. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to be held. She didn’t want to be moved or touched or anything. She lay there until we finally got her up and she started crying. She completely, totally, understood as a 4 year old girl who was so excited to meet a new sibling, who was hoping so badly for a sister because “she already had a brother”, who wanted to care for and love on and play with this baby. Isla continued crying the rest of the evening as we got ready for bed. We managed to stifle her cries by making the night an exciting sleepover with Mimi in the spare bedroom. After we said our normal prayers for that night, Isla so sweetly asked all on her own accord she could say a prayer for the baby. As she was crying, she prayed, “God, please protect our baby. Amen.” After we got the kids to bed, I started packing my hospital bag and then sat down at the computer to email my music families that class was cancelled this week. My mom went home shortly after we arrived to pack a bag and returned after the kids were asleep. We all killed some more time… I ate a can of tuna at 10:30pm because I hadn’t eaten since lunch and the nurses told me to try to get some food in. And around 11 or so we were en route to the hospital to spend the night before the next steps of the journey would start in the morning. #maisiemarthaofsthun Published 1/13/2021
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AuthorMother. Jesus Lover. Mourner of my stillborn Maisie Martha Ofsthun. Archives
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