19 days

I knew the end of this pregnancy was going to be hard. It shouldn't be so amazing to me that certain words or smells can still floor me. It hasn't been very long since our beautiful Stella was born and died. And with the hormones of being pregnant and the anxiety about what's to come with this little Owl, I should be more amazed I get out of bed every day.

I had a NST this morning. Owl has been a little slower the past couple days so I was looking forward to some reassurance. I know babies move less now because of space but this baby has always moved so much that any decrease makes me nervous. There was the right amount of movement, just not the major toe-touches and jumping jacks like usual. Then, the heart rate has been lower the past couple appointments. It was always up in the 160s and on Monday and today it was hovering around 145. I mentioned both to the nurse and she said both were fine. Both were within the normal range and the baby is reacting to things are normal.

Then, she said, "let me go show these tapes to the doctor on duty." While she was doing that I was getting my boots back on and I could hear them in the hallway talking about how good the tapes look and I heard the makings of one of my most taboo phrases. I tried to ignore it and hoped they will just let me go. But the nurse said to the doctor, "you should go tell her." She opened the door and said, "you have a beautiful baby." I squeaked out a thank you and practically ran from the office. I made it to the car before crying to R on the phone. That's what the doctor that delivered Stella kept saying as I was laboring and pushing.

I have made up my mind to have a good talk with my doctor at my next appointment. I don't want to be weird but that phrase is a big trigger for me. I don't want to hear that until my baby is out and breathing and in our arms. In fact, I don't want any coaching or cheerleading at all. I want cold, hard facts and stats. Tell me the heart rate. Tell me the accelerations are normal. Tell me the baby is reactive. Talk to me in clinical terms. Because I may freak out if there is too much hope. I don't trust hope.

The other thing, which is finally now fading, is the soap. That damn hospital soap is the same in every hospital! It's the smell I associate with Stella. I have a bad habit of always touching my face and I can smell it on my hands for hours after I leave the hospital. I went out to get lunch today and I just drove with my hand to my face, breathing it in. I am feeling that desperation today. I am desperate to hold my baby to my face and smell that smell.