If this pregnancy were an airliner, we’d be firmly planted in our seats, with our seat backs and tray tables in their upright and locked positions. The ‘Fasten Seatbelts’ sign would be illuminated, and you would be able to look out of the window and see the tiny cars, houses, and stores dotting the landscape.
Every airline flight, though, experiences a little bit of turbulence, and, if you’ve never flown before, every little bump and shake can make it seem as if the plane’s going to fall out of the sky at any moment. Your only reassurance comes when you look out of your window and can see solid ground again, and realize that your trip is coming to an end – except for the landing. You grip your armrest and pray that the flight lands safely and taxis to the gate, where you’ll finally be able to get off the plane and start to relax a little.
This is exactly what pregnancy is like.
Ever since we first found out about the pregnancy, we’ve had our share of anxious moments, which I’m fairly certain is normal for everyone in our position. Here’s the latest one.
About a week ago, we had a scare where the doctors raised the possibility that the baby would have to be born this week, via C-section.
My wife undergoes non-stress tests twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, which also includes a measurement of amniotic fluid level using ultrasound. The medical center was closed on Labor Day, so she had to go in the following day – which saw such a backlog of patients for monitoring that her ultrasound was performed by someone other than her regular tech. The woman who had performed the measurement was a bit unsure of the operation of the machine, but seemed to get her bearings soon after. The amniotic fluid, which had measured in previous sessions at nines and tens, came in at six. Six is not good.
It’s never a good thing when the doctor’s office calls and wants to see you the day after a test. That’s exactly what happened.
When we met with the doctor the next day, he said that, as a result of the low fluid measurement, we’d have to prepare ourselves for the possibility of a 37th week delivery via C-section – two things that we wanted to avoid at all costs. To add to the frustration, we did not get another fluid measurement that day – we would have to wait until the next day before another test would be performed. We had set aside work so that we could come in for a five minute consultation with the doctor, with no test. Balls.
That day and night, I was filled with dread and anxiety. Amniotic fluid levels are supposed to decline as the pregnancy enters its final weeks, but not as precipitously as this. I researched the causes of low amniotic fluid – while there were more serious causes, I found that hydration could also be a contributing factor. As a precautionary measure, my wife increased her intake of water, which was all we could do.
On Thursday, we went to the testing center and, after the non-stress test, went into the ultrasound room. The tech was really nice and chatty (as they all seem to be) and, after measuring the four quadrants of fluid, announced the total – eleven.
I kept repeating it to myself after she said it – eleven, eleven, eleven – completely on track. Completely normal. Completely within the range of what we had seen for the previous five weeks. Everything was fine.
We still don’t know if the first tech had just messed up the calculations, or if hydration was an issue, but since that day we’ve had nothing but readings in the tens and elevens, and are happy as hell about it. The baby is showing excellent movement, and her heart rate is doing all of the things that we’re told it’s supposed to be doing.
And if I squint my eyes just so, I can almost see the runway coming up.
