I have to say that yesterday, as the heartbeat appointment approached, I felt like I was about to jump out of my skin. Tunnel vision is the best way to describe it. And sick to my stomach. And fear. Maybe it’s because the first perinatal doctor I saw told me she won’t make it to 20 weeks. I’m 19 tomorrow.
During the appointment and after a little searching, the nurse was able to find her heartbeat. A sigh of relief. Another week till my next heartbeat appointment.
What happened next is hard to put into words, but as I was leaving the exam room, I was met by one of the midwives whom I’ve seen a few times for my yearly exams. She stopped in the hall and asked me how I was doing and frowned. Then suddenly she opened her arms to hug me. It was one of those hugs everyone needs during times of trouble.
As I told her a little bit of what was on my heart, my doctor who has delivered 7 of my babies who I‘ve seen for 10 of my pregnancies (including my miscarriage in 2014) appeared in the hallway and began listening and also asked how I was doing. As I talked with him too, it seemed as if every nurse and office staff stopped what they were doing and leaned in to hear our every word. Not my imagination, Chris noticed also.
Maybe it's because I’ve been going there for so long, but they appear to have become attached to this pregnancy.
I even had the nurse cry in front of me during our first heartbeat check. After finding the heartbeat, she hugged me and started crying when she realized what she was doing (checking to see if my baby was still alive) and apologized. She said she’s never done that before (cried), but feels like she knows me since I’ve had many babies with them.
Since most women are advised to terminate, I don’t really believe they've witnessed many situations like mine. They are now watching and waiting with baited breath. And we will continue to call upon the Lord.