Scott's story...part two
My pregnancy was great. Really. An aversion to fish was the worst thing I experienced. I LOVED being pregnant. At the time, I was working for Disney full time. I segued into a behind-the-scenes job when it seemed like the right time. (My status then was "full time" which meant I had great benefits BUT I had had to leave Guest Relations and go back to attractions to get that coveted full time spot, so I was working on the Studio Backlot Tour and lifting wheelchairs and experiencing an earthquake every 25 minutes of your day is not what the doctor ordered.) Behind the scenes, I worked in the offices doing a little bit of everything...but mostly working on an initiative called Guest Satisfaction Measurement which I had been one of a few key people at the Studios to help implement. So it was great...behind the scenes parking, 9-5 job, air conditioning. As Disney goes, it doesn't get much better than that! AND, I still taught the behind the scenes tours on a part time basis.
Because I had needed a doctor to help me conceive, and the choice of whom I would see was dictated by my Disney insurance, we had ended up at a practice in Altamonte. They had a midwife practicing with them, and I LOVED her. Terri was great. We were on the same page about everything, and I always looked forward to my appointments. I loved all the girls in the office too.
Being that it was my first pregnancy and I am tall, I didn't get very "big" even toward the end of my pregnancy, but I usually measured fairly close to where I should, so it wasn't a concern...until my appointment at 36 weeks.
By 36 weeks, I was measuring a little behind where I should be. I remember asking something about whether I was big enough, because I looked about 6 1/2 months pregnant, not 8 months pregnant. That was when my midwife said, "Well, actually, you are measuring behind, so we are going to send you for an ultrasound." I had a sense that something was acutely wrong.
We went for the ultrasound, and honestly 11 years later, I can't remember if they told us anything there or not. I do remember her saying, "I know what you are having." We had decided it would be a surprise. But in that instant all I could think was that something was wrong and this total stranger KNEW the gender of our baby but we didn't. If something were to have happened, I wanted every last moment to "bond" with the baby not as a "baby" but as Scott or Mimi (the names we had picked out), so we found out that day that we were having a boy.
My midwife told us that the ultrasound confirmed her suspicions...a condition called Intrauterine Growth Retardation (IUGR). She set us up for an appointment with a perinatologist, but it would be a week before they could see me. It was a LONG week. I passed the time working, and shopping for pre-mie clothes I had discovered I would need. (It sounds crazy, but 11 years ago, there were not pre-mie clothes to be found. Usually, nicer stores had one or two outfits. My in-laws actually bought one in the hospital gift shop. Pre-mie diapers were IMPOSSIBLE to come by without ordering them by phone and having them shipped to you.) We had found a "coming home from the hospital outfit" at a latino store in the the mall. It was white knit (I picked it out before I knew what we were having, and white was gender neutral) and was slender, so I hoped it would fit. I backstitched his name on to the little hat that went with it during that week too.
When our appointment with Dr. Fuentes finally came about, I had no idea what to expect. We went down there, and there were literally tens of couples all there because something was wrong...it was a hugely sobering thought. I still remember what the waiting rooms looked like. It's one of those days that is etched into my memory for good. Anyway, they repeated the ultrasound, but this time gathering more info. They could not detect a diastolic flow across the umbilical cord (no detectable blood flowing from him back to me). We met with the doctor. He told us there was a 90% chance that Scott would DIE in the womb within ONE WEEK, but a 4% chance that he would need oxygen if labor was induced now. His recommendation? The baby must be born that day. I was 37 weeks to the day.
Okay, I'll finish later. My littlest is naked, and I'm not even sure she has clean undies to wear, LOL.
Because I had needed a doctor to help me conceive, and the choice of whom I would see was dictated by my Disney insurance, we had ended up at a practice in Altamonte. They had a midwife practicing with them, and I LOVED her. Terri was great. We were on the same page about everything, and I always looked forward to my appointments. I loved all the girls in the office too.
Being that it was my first pregnancy and I am tall, I didn't get very "big" even toward the end of my pregnancy, but I usually measured fairly close to where I should, so it wasn't a concern...until my appointment at 36 weeks.
By 36 weeks, I was measuring a little behind where I should be. I remember asking something about whether I was big enough, because I looked about 6 1/2 months pregnant, not 8 months pregnant. That was when my midwife said, "Well, actually, you are measuring behind, so we are going to send you for an ultrasound." I had a sense that something was acutely wrong.
We went for the ultrasound, and honestly 11 years later, I can't remember if they told us anything there or not. I do remember her saying, "I know what you are having." We had decided it would be a surprise. But in that instant all I could think was that something was wrong and this total stranger KNEW the gender of our baby but we didn't. If something were to have happened, I wanted every last moment to "bond" with the baby not as a "baby" but as Scott or Mimi (the names we had picked out), so we found out that day that we were having a boy.
My midwife told us that the ultrasound confirmed her suspicions...a condition called Intrauterine Growth Retardation (IUGR). She set us up for an appointment with a perinatologist, but it would be a week before they could see me. It was a LONG week. I passed the time working, and shopping for pre-mie clothes I had discovered I would need. (It sounds crazy, but 11 years ago, there were not pre-mie clothes to be found. Usually, nicer stores had one or two outfits. My in-laws actually bought one in the hospital gift shop. Pre-mie diapers were IMPOSSIBLE to come by without ordering them by phone and having them shipped to you.) We had found a "coming home from the hospital outfit" at a latino store in the the mall. It was white knit (I picked it out before I knew what we were having, and white was gender neutral) and was slender, so I hoped it would fit. I backstitched his name on to the little hat that went with it during that week too.
When our appointment with Dr. Fuentes finally came about, I had no idea what to expect. We went down there, and there were literally tens of couples all there because something was wrong...it was a hugely sobering thought. I still remember what the waiting rooms looked like. It's one of those days that is etched into my memory for good. Anyway, they repeated the ultrasound, but this time gathering more info. They could not detect a diastolic flow across the umbilical cord (no detectable blood flowing from him back to me). We met with the doctor. He told us there was a 90% chance that Scott would DIE in the womb within ONE WEEK, but a 4% chance that he would need oxygen if labor was induced now. His recommendation? The baby must be born that day. I was 37 weeks to the day.
Okay, I'll finish later. My littlest is naked, and I'm not even sure she has clean undies to wear, LOL.
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