What Happened... Part 2

My mom came to visit at the end of November. It was pretty unusual for her to come all the way across the country just because, but she did. I took some days off and on my first day off Mom came with me to the maternity ward at the hospital to meet with the nurse. It was really unusual to have her with me for something like this - I left home almost 20 years ago, and my Mom was never the type to hold my hand, even when I was young. It meant a lot to me that she came with me to sit and chat with the nurse.

While she was here, we decided to drive across the border to do some shopping - discount outlet shopping for her, stuff I still needed on the "baby list" for me. Instead of doing the trip all in one day, we stayed overnight in Niagara Falls so we could drive back the next morning.

Niagara Falls on a cold, rainy, dark day in late November is kind of depressing. And empty. There might have been three other cars in the parking lot where we stayed. The restaurant where we ate was empty except for us. We actually drove down to the Falls in the rain to see the "Christmas Illuminations" and laughed at how daft they were.

When we checked into the hotel, I went on up to the room and Mom stayed to check her email on the computer in the lobby. The woman behind the desk asked Mom how far along I was, and mentioned that her own daughter had been pregnant for a year. I laughed at that when Mom came back to the room and told me - "What, is she gestating an elephant?" But it turns out the daughter had lost her baby very late in the game and had become pregnant again very quickly. I remember saying to Mom, "Stop, don't tell me anymore, I don't want to think about that."

(As an aside, a month or so before this, my husband and I went to the local hospital to drop off my registration form for prenatal classes. It was the hospital where I'd be delivering, but I'd never been in there before. Inexplicably, I started to panic and cry as soon as I got inside. Is it possible that, deep down, we know?)

Before my Mom flew home, she commented that my belly was growing so fast, almost in front of her eyes. I looked term, and I still had two months to go. Or so I thought anyway.

On December 11, a Thursday night, I went with my husband to his staff Christmas dinner. I was huge, I was cranky. My belly was sore, I was exhausted, my ankles were swollen. I vaguely remember thinking it was strange that "Rufus" (which is what we were calling Bronwyn before we knew she was a girl) didn't move that much after dinner.

Friday, December 12 was a really busy day at work. As usual, I rushed through my day, trying to be two or three places at once and doing two or three things at the same time. Worry was creeping into the edges of my mind - Rufus wasn't moving much, even after lunch, a juice and a jiggle. I spent about 20 minutes that afternoon online, reading that babies moved less as they got bigger, and I tried to settle my mind with that idea.

I went home, so glad it was a Friday night and I had the weekend in front of me. We made supper, and I willed Rufus to give me some kicks. I lay on the couch and drank some juice, jiggled my belly, but not much was happening. Now I was worried. I called the health service on the phone, and the nurse said to go to the hospital if I was worried. I was.

It was a bitterly cold night, it must have been around 9:00 or 9:30. I went upstairs and changed into some jeans, grabbed my health card, but on my winter coat, and we went. The hospital is only a 10-15 min walk, but it was freezing so we jumped into a cab. I got confused about where he should drop us off, and we went to the wrong door. The driver was a nice guy, he called us back in and took us around the hospital to the right door. I think he saw on my face that I was on the edge of tears.

I went straight to the maternity area and there was no one around. I rang the bell, and a nurse way down the hall stuck her head out. I feel like I ran down to her, but I guess I didn't. As soon as I said "I don't think the baby is moving", I started to cry.

They lay me down on a bed in the triage area and put a monitor on my belly. Rufus' heart was beating strong, but there were strange dips. On the ultrasound, the baby was sluggish - not moving much even when poked and prodded with the ultrasound wand. The resident was lovely and tried to keep me calm, but went to get another doctor. The nurse put an IV in, in case I was dehydrated, or the baby was. The doctor explained they were going to give me a steroid to speed up the baby's lung development, in case I had to deliver early. I remember looking at my husband and saying "We might have this baby for Christmas. We don't even have the nursery ready yet."

They decided I was staying overnight. They moved me into a room, and I stayed up all night listening to the monitor, watching the read-out, and holding my breath when the dips happened. Once in awhile someone came in to ask if I'd felt the baby move. I didn't think I had - if she had moved, it was hard to tell. I knew it wasn't supposed to be that hard to tell.

My poor husband tried to sleep on a narrow window seat - and over his head I had a long, big view of the city looking west, the sky getting pinker as it became morning, smoke stacks sending steam up into the cold air. It was beautiful, and I was thinking about how we would handle it if this baby died.