The Hardest Thing I Have Ever Had to Do

Early Tuesday morning at about 4:00am, I started leaking amniotic fluid. It didn't occur to me what it was, at first. I just thought my pee muscles were acting funny.

Later that morning, at about 8:30am, I went to the bathroom, and my pad was quite wet, but clear. It still thought it was bizarre, and then a lightbulb went off. I realized what it was. I quickly called Lee and we went to the hospital.

Emergency was pretty quick at first. I know I want to bitch about the wait time for all my tests, but I don't think it would've made a difference at that point. I felt trickles early in the morning, but then I felt gushes when I was at work. The damage had been done.

At 11:00am, the Doctor did a litmus test for leaking fluid. Sure enough, the stick was blue. A deep blue. I was leaking quite severely. Finally, at 2:30pm, I had an ultrasound to see how the baby was. It's hearbeat was strong. Too strong. They told me, there was very little fluid left.
Let me tell you what I was thinking, I thought what they meant was "What was once a vast ocean is now a small pond." No. What they meant was, "The ocean has drained to the point of a shower stall right after a shower." Quite different. The chances at this point of the baby surviving are slim to none. In fact, it is very grim. The outcome is virtually known, it is just a matter of when.

I couldn't believe it. I was wheeled back to the emergency hallway with constant hospital traffic. I was so mad that my grief had to be visible. Thankfully, the nurse liked me and kicked someone out of a private room (who didn't need it) and let me have privacy. The hospital chaplin was nice. He was very understanding and companssionate. The doctor's also had a very good bedside manner. They were completely honest of the chances the baby had. It hurt, but it was good to know up front where my hope should be.

I stayed over night for observation. It was a slim chance, but there was chance the sac could heal and start retaining water again. Depending on the severity of the leak. But the odds of that are slim. Incredibly slim. I had many moments of losing my mind. I cried and cried. I even questioned my own mothering capabilities. I hated every 14 year old and 17 year old who gets knocked up and wants to terminate their baby because it is "inconvienent". Well, they least they deserve is 9 months of inconvience and an adoption. This is not fair. I said everything.

In the morning, the Doctor working with mine, told me my options. They are:
1) I can wait it out. And not to hope for change. Wait for the baby to die and pass it naturally. But they my risk of infection increases. And I will have infection. It is inevitable. I just have to act on it fast.
2) Or Decide to terminate it at the Alec. (Grey Nuns will not do it cause they are a Catholic Hospital.)

This wouldn't be so hard if it was a simple miscarraige. Honestly. The baby would be dead. There would be pain. There would be blood. It would be over. There would be no question.

But the baby is still alive. It has a strong heartbeat, despite the odds. My womb no longer has conditions to support that life. But it holds on, with every beat. And I can't do it. I can't terrminate it. I can't look at it on that ultrasound and say, "No." I can't make the choice to have that heart stop beating. I can't.

It cannot live. The baby will not survive. I know that. The results would be so dire. A baby without fluid cannot grow properly, the limbs will be stunted, the organs will not develop properly, they may even deformaties. But the worst of all, it creates something called "plastic lungs" which is virtually a death sentence. The baby would die either way.

Right now, I am home. Waiting. My belly is a lot flatter. Where there once was a sac of water, there is total give whenever I push my tummy. I know the water has not returned. It will never return.

But the baby is still alive. If it wasn't. This could be over. The hardest part phyically is ahead of me. But I will heal. But the emotions will stay with me forever. Not a day will pass without this in the back of my mind. And if the baby wasn't still alive, despite everything I know, I wouldn't have that stinging sensation of hope in my heart.