Observation

Well, I suppose we couldn’t expect to make it all the way without a hiccup. Our hiccup was stressful nonetheless. We went in to the non-stress test, no “non-stress” test, as usual and ended up in an Observation Room at the labor and delivery ward. Yikes! At the doc’s I got my belly hooked up to the monitors and everything regular and normal like that. But when Dr. B came in to take a peek he kind of poked around, fiddled with some extra paper coming off the chart, and when he finally looked at it turned red and said “Well, the baby’s got a low heart rate so let’s just get you over to labor and delivery for some more observation.” He still had the kind smile, but he was definitely in serious mode. We didn’t even get the pink paper to give the receptionist, and I sure didn’t get to tinkle in the cup because we were being ushered out of there so fast. Talk about unsettling!

On the ten minute drive—thank goodness it wasn’t longer—I basically psyched myself up for an emergency c-section. What’s the big deal about surgery when you can get a living baby out of it? (Once I settled on an emergency c-section being okay I started to worry about everything that could possibly be wrong with Baby2…but that’s another tale). The only reason I didn’t think the baby was dead and have complete hallucinogenic flashbacks of Wyatt’s death was because it was kicking the crap out of me the whole ride. So that was nice. Of course when we got to the hospital nothing was wrong. They hooked me up to some more equipment and we watched HGTV for an hour while they monitored the nugget. Since absolutely nothing was wrong, there was no low heart rate at all, they then let me go (after signing some papers—silly lawyers). So, panicking for nothing—phew—and thankful the doctor is on his toes. And maybe Nugget is just practicing it’s resting metabolic heart rate for when it’s a world class athlete?