This last week, I went into active labor again. I was exactly 32 weeks. I got to the hospital expecting that these babies would be delivered, but instead they stopped my labor. I know our desire to have these babies here now is a bit controversial. Some friends agree with us (usually other baby-loss parents) that the doctors should just let me deliver. Other friends (usually the ones who haven't experienced loss) remind me-as if I didn't know- that the longer they're inside me, the better. On one hand, if they're born now they have the probability of complications that will keep them in the NICU longer and the potential for long-lasting effects of prematurity.
On the other hand...they would be alive. They would be breathing, even if it was with a little help. They would have heartbeats, and they would cry. I would get to see their eyes open and hold a warm baby without the help of warm blankets. I could cry tears of joy and thanks rather than tears of grief, sorrow and pain. My husband could hug me because we did an extraordinary thing bringing two lives into the world, rather that to hug be because I'm falling apart inside.
Few people outside my close friends and family have witnessed the stress and anxiety that has accompanied this pregnancy. Not just for Evan and me, but for our family as well. Every time I call my mom, she answers, "Whitney, is everything okay?" I appreciate the concern, but it makes it difficult to call anyone. My sisters are the same way, and even though others haven't mentioned it, I'm sure they have the same heart palpitations when they see my name on the caller ID. Moreover, baby boy is my little mover. He's head-down so he's constantly kicking me in the ribs. But baby girl is in an awkward, transverse (sideways), oblique (diagonal) position with her feet tucked against her chest and positioned neatly under her placenta so I don't feel her kicks very often. It's a good thing I'm at home all day with the opportunity to doppler her heartbeat anytime I go an hour without feeling her move. (Yes, I'm that paranoid).
The nurses say that as long as I have two episodes a day of at least 10 kicks in an hour then everything is fine. But it's not fine. I was told by previous doctors that whatever caused Scotlin and Kayden to die took minutes, 10 tops. They didn't die slowly, it was fast. So even if I feel kicks in the morning, I worry all day long if I'm not hearing a heartbeat or feeling them move. And when I say worry, I don't mean a little nervousness. It's heart-wrenching. It's an overwhelming fear that if I put the doppler to my belly I won't hear anything or be able to find a heartbeat. Today, for example, I hadn't felt baby girl move yet, so I had to wait until Evan called on his lunch break to doppler her so that just in case I didn't hear anything I wouldn't be alone.
We feel beyond blessed to be parents of two angels. Now we're ready to be parents of two more living angels. Beyond anything else, we appreciate the prayers and support from everyone offering them up for us. We feel strengthened and hopeful, even with the bouts of anxiety and uncertainty. Please, please keep these babies in your prayers for us, and know that we are so appreciative!
Much Love