My pregnancy was beautiful - aside from the nausea, sciatic pain, and a couple of other side effects you need not know. Being the person I am, I opted for a Certified Nurse Midwife (CNM) as opposed to your run of the mill Obstetrician (OB). I wanted a low invasive, natural birth experience. The hubby and I even took the Bradley Method birthing classes along with the other courses we chose to take to prepare ourselves for our little peanut. That's what we called the baby. Our first office visit (around 6-8 weeks) we got to meet our little one and the first thing out of my husband's mouth was, "that's it? it's a little peanut." And the name stuck. Later, we found out it was a boy, but it didn't matter - he was still Peanut.
Weeks turned to months and then it was all about waiting...waiting...and more waiting. I had a couple of false labor scares, but was sent home to allow labor to come on its own. Fickle thing, labor, especially if it's your first time. Every pang, every cramp, I would think, "this is it!" But it wasn't.
This is where our story takes a dark turn. I only warn you because I remember it vividly and I still cringe.
This particular morning (I was right at 39 weeks), Peanut was not all that active. He had a habit of snoozing through the weekends so I didn't think much of it. Though, as the day progressed and I still had not felt my little "wombmate", I thought maybe we should call the CNM. She advised that we come in since I had done the standard "sugar rush" to try and agitate him. I drank orange juice in the morning as became the custom throughout my pregnancy. At lunch, I had soda and still nothing. Upon arrival, the nurse was having trouble locating Peanut's heartbeat. This too was normal, since he would always wiggle away from the heartbeat monitors and sonograms. Only this time, no wiggling...there was just silence. So the CNM decided to get the sonogram machine out and just have a look. After what seemed like an eternity, she excused herself. I couldn't hold in the tears anymore. I must admit that I knew even before we left the house that we would not be bringing Peanut home, but I stayed optimistic so I wouldn't worry my husband. But now, it was certain. The nurse said, "We're going to take you to another room." When she too excused herself, I looked at my husband and said, "They're doing that so we won't make a scene." And I was right. We were taken to private delivery room (the one I would eventually deliver Peanut in) and were followed by the CNM, a nurse, and a doctor. The sonogram machine was turned on again, to make sure I guess, and then I heard the words no pregnant woman wants to hear.
"I'm sorry, but there's no heartbeat. Do you know what that means?" I nodded, though not hard enough I suppose because the CNM repeated, "There's no heartbeat, do you know what that means?" I managed to force out a quiet 'yes'. They left us alone for a while, to absorb the news. We sat, our hands on my belly, crying. My husband kept saying, "I'm so sorry Peanut. I'm sorry." I still don't know what he meant, but I never asked. Me, I kept saying, "We were so close, why didn't he just come? We were so close." I still think that from time to time. "What do we do now? Where do we go from here?" I kept asking...not my husband, maybe God.