Ahh the all-too familiar feeling of the hospital—we are here again at 30 weeks and 3 days.
As I mentioned in my last post, our ultrasound last week left me feeling very anxious. They told me to look out for more bleeding, but I knew that placental abruption could worsen without any signs of bleeding. I became very diligent about paying attention to our baby boy’s movements. It was really the only other thing that might tip me off to something being wrong.
He was very active for a few days, which helped ease my anxiety. Then one day he switched positions, and it became harder for me to feel his movements. In the next 24 hours, I was still feeling the amount of movement that is “standard,” but it was much less and much fainter than I was used to. The building anxiety got to me and I eventually texted the doctor. She said there was no harm in going to the hospital to get checked out, so late Sunday evening, we hopped to it.
Of course, everything was fine. His heart rate was great and as soon as he felt the monitor he began kicking at it. We were there for maybe an hour, and the nurse and my husband both were so sweet that they didn’t let me feel stupid for panicking. We all agreed—it was better to be safe than sorry, especially given our situation. I knew I could forgive myself for wasting our time much more easily than if I had ignored a possible warning sign and something turned out to be wrong.
The next day we had a scheduled appointment with the doctor, and we discussed my situation further to try and help my anxiety. The doctor empathized with our situation, and said that yes, the abruption could worsen without any outward bleeding, so the best course of action was to continue taking it easy and keep up with kick counts and weekly scans. We also learned that our chance of a C-section was at about 50/50 at the moment. If I had more bleeding, it would probably be more like 80/20. As for my anxiety, I made sure that the anxiety/sleep aid I had been prescribed in my first trimester and used sparingly was still safe to take, so if I felt panicky, I would have something to hopefully help me rationalize things.
Our weekly ultrasound appointment was the next morning, and we were delighted to see that our baby boy was growing, his heart and lungs were functioning properly, and the bleed from the abruption had not appeared to worsen or grow in size. We were still stable, and that was a relief.
I knew the relief would be short-lived, that after a few days, I would begin to wonder and worry if things were getting worse. I tried my best to focus on being positive and not thinking too far ahead. For the time being, our baby boy was kicking, my body felt fine (other than the typical aches and pains of the third trimester), and I was optimistic that we would at least make it to 32 weeks.
Two days after our ultrasound, feeling hopeful, happy, and at peace, I laid down to go to bed and diligently did my bedtime kick count. Baby boy was moving just fine, so I attempted to get myself comfortable enough to sleep. I’m not sure if I ever did fall asleep, but an hour later I felt like I might have started bleeding a little. When I got halfway to the bathroom, I quickly realized that it had somehow soaked through my pad, my underwear and my shorts before I even noticed it.
I made it to the bathroom and tried to tap on the wall to get my husband’s attention, but then I remembered that I had left him listening to something on his headphones. Feeling the panic rising and fearing that I was going to have this baby in the next 24 hours, I cleaned myself up the best I could and hobbled into the bedroom flipping on the light switch.
“We’ve gotta go now,” I said, pulling out the depends that I had stashed under the bed. While I borderline hyperventilated, my husband kept me calm. He got himself dressed and helped me do the same, gathering my half-packed hospital bag along with phone chargers and anything else we might need. We knew this would be another three-day minimum trip.
As we got in the car, he assured me, “I’m going to get us there safely, but quickly. Just stay with me.” The roads were blessedly mostly empty (it was close to midnight) as we zoomed the few miles to the hospital. He reminded me that we already knew the bleed was there, so this was quite possibly just the blood working its way out and not necessarily a worsening of the situation. Besides, we had just felt our baby move an hour ago, and he had always been the rock through it all.
We arrived at the hospital, and after I collected the usual urine sample and donned a tattered gown, the nurse hooked me up to the fetal monitor and we heard the familiar, beautiful sound of our son’s heart beating steadily. Feeling significant relief, we settled into the usual routine of answering all the questions, having my blood drawn, and waiting to see what happened next.
We eventually got to the room where we would be staying the night until we were able to get an ultrasound and meet with the specialist the next morning. My bleeding had slowed, though I still had small gushes here and there, but I remained comforted by my son’s heart beating steadily throughout the night. I was given more steroids to help baby should they decide he needed to come soon. I was also given fluids through an IV for hydration, as I was advised against eating or drinking anything just in case they decided we needed an emergency C-section.
It was a highly uncomfortable night. In order to go to the bathroom, I had to unplug the monitors and carry the cords around my neck, and also unplug the IV and drag that whole thing with me. It was never a simple process, and I was incredibly thankful for my dear husband’s help. Still, it caused a meltdown from me the second time we had to do it. I was so tired and uncomfortable and hungry and thirsty and still worried our little guy would need to come into the world before he was really ready.
I finally fell asleep a little before 7 am, and less than thirty minutes later is when the doctor chose to come in on his rounds. He wasn’t one we’d seen before, and though I was half-asleep and couldn’t remember his name, I liked him. He was an older doctor, and I can’t remember exactly what he said, but he made us feel a little more at ease seeming to understand our situation pretty well for someone we’d never met before.
The ultrasound later in the morning showed our boy looking even bigger than he was three days ago. His movement and vitals all looked good, the placenta still appeared to be functioning normally, and the bleed did not appear worse, even smaller if anything.
The specialist we saw was one in the practice we hadn’t met before, but we really liked her too. She cut to the chase and laid it all out there: we will be here for monitoring for at least 72 hours from whenever my bleeding stops, and if the bleeding worsens and/or baby or I appear to be suffering from any distress, the baby will be delivered via emergency C-section. She explained that these things are unpredictable and out of our control, and that this is just the kind of situation where we have to trust and deal with whatever is necessary as it comes.
It was like she was summarizing our entire pregnancy journey, and in a way, validating it. We’ve started to feel like pregnancy for us is nothing but drama, and we’re worn out from it. But it’s just one of those things that’s wholly out of our control. We do what we can, and know with confidence that the professionals are ready to intervene when necessary, and we are thankful for that, and pray that their wisdom and skill will guide us to bringing our baby into the world in the right way at the right time.
So, here we are, settling in for another few days at the hospital of mostly waiting to see if anything happens. We are more suspicious that something else will come up this time—more bleeding or something unforeseen. We know that every day brings us closer to meeting this precious human who has stolen our hearts already. It’s still a little terrifying to think we could meet him tomorrow, or in another six weeks, but whenever it is, we continue to pray that he is healthy and safe, and we thank you for your prayers as well!
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