The midwife steps up

"Hi, I'm Felicia, and I'll be your midwife today."

Stealing a look toward Brent, I rolled my eyes. I don't want to see a midwife. I want a D-O-C-T-O-R. I turned off my disgruntled expression, as she looked up from my chart. She asked me to explain what happened the night before in detail, asked if I was still bleeding (yes) and then walked over to me.

She took a look and explained that my cervix was never indeed open, and I was never dilated. It's a common mistake that ER doctors make in their hasty peek since they're not used to that sort of thing everyday. (great)

Felicia explained a little about what happened, what a subchorionic hematoma is and reassuringly said that my uterus felt the right size for around nine weeks! (The hematoma is when blood vessels break when the baby is implanting. If it blocks the area where the baby switches from the yolk sac and grabs onto the placenta, a miscarriage occurs.)

Then, Felicia said she'd make a deal with me. Using a doppler, she thought she'd be able to find the baby's heartbeat. BUT, if she was unable, I had to promise not to get distraught. I hesitantly looked at her and said, "I'm a little fragile to say the least right now. But I'd like you to try."

Brent shot me an incredulous glance. We had previously decided not to listen only because we didn't want to add more worry to the situation than already existed. I just had a feeling that she'd find it though.

Within 10 seconds, we heard the glorious lub-dubs coming from my belly. It was in the 170s. Perfect. I grabbed for Brent's hand, and we tearfully smiled at each other. Soon after I was dressed, we were sent downstairs to the ultrasound room. The technician, Tim, wanted to get a baseline for the hematoma. (He didn't trust the ER's reports, and that was fine by me.)

The unfortunate part was that the hematoma had gotten bigger from the night before, so it's a little more worrisome now. He said if it gets any bigger, a miscarriage is most likely imminent. So, now it's bed rest for me. No lifting, no walking, no running, no nothing. And that's fine by me because it's about our baby now.

And now we're officially considered a high-risk pregnancy. So, we will need weekly ultrasounds to monitor things. On the up side, we'll get to see our little one more than ever now! Every Thursday, we'll make sure that heart is fluttering away.