The stars are bright outside my living room window, and one of my cats is rolling on the living room floor in a pile of catnip that Grace left out last night.
It’s 5 am, and I can’t sleep.
There are racing thoughts. Too many worries, too much to consider.
I’m headed to the hospital this morning for an unexpected non-stress test.
A non-stress test (NST) is the official name for laying in a hospital bed for an hour or two, hooked up to monitors to watch the baby’s heartrate and my contractions.
If everything is okay, they’ll probably send me back home. If everything is not okay, I suspect they’ll deliver my baby. At 37 1/2 weeks, I’m sure she’ll be fine.
I packed my hospital bag and Grace’s Big Sister bag last night, just in case.
I’ve become increasingly worried over the last three or four days, as I’ve noticed the baby’s movements decrease from 10 every five minutes to 10 every fifteen minutes to 10 every two hours.
After some blood work, an ultrasound, and yet another 24-hour urine collection, apparently my doctor is concerned, too. His secretary called me last evening around 5 to ask me to go to the hospital for an NST.
There were no beds and no monitors available last night, so they told me to come in first thing this morning.
Allowing for a very long night of trying to sleep while worries and prayers passed through my brain.
The thing that finally allowed me to fall asleep, well past midnight? Counting the baby’s movements. That’s how I know they’ve decreased to 10 in two hours.
The worries of a mother begin when she learns she’s pregnant and end…
Well, they never end. They just change, I guess.
Everything will be okay.
He has a plan, and His plan is good.
I shouldn’t worry.
I’ll keep you posted as I can.
Saturday morning update:
As I suspected, my amniotic fluid levels are low.
But not quite low enough to warrant delivering the baby at 37.5 weeks.
The non-stress test results were good, and I can stay pregnant for another week.
I am conflicted. I’m glad the baby is okay.
I hate bed rest.
And something stinks in my living room.
Just thought I’d share that last tidbit. It’s adding to my annoyance now that I’m back home in my bed rest prison.
© 2010, Tara Ziegmont. All rights reserved.