Three years ago, as I experienced the worst moment of my life, I didn’t know that it would change to become one of the best moments of my life.
After four weeks of labor that wouldn’t progress but still too early to receive any medical treatments that would advance it, a tiny baby was finally born after a decrease in fetal movement.
In fact, my tiny baby didn’t move at all. He didn’t breath. His heart didn’t beat.
I heard the pediatric code blue announced over the hospital speaker system, and heard our room number announced.
The sudden rush of medical professionals that flew into the operating room formed a wall around my tiny baby, and I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t see my baby…I had never seen my baby.
And although I couldn’t see what they were doing, I could hear them: “One, two, three. One, two, three.”
To this day, hearing someone count to three gives me chills, because of the memory of hearing CPR being administered to my child.
I can still hear the echoes of my screams in the operating room where he was born, begging God to let my son live. I can hear my sobs.
I can see the bright, white, operating room lights that were blurred because of my tear-filled eyes.
I can remember my husband’s hand holding mine, but there were no words. What could we say? Words couldn’t possibly have expressed the terror we were experiencing.
My body felt numb – not just because of the anesthetic from the surgery, but because the thought of losing a child put a stop to all feeling.
I was lucky. My son lived, and is now a three-year-old ball of ornery energy. It wasn’t until after he was born that I heard of tracking fetal movement, even though I know my doctor had asked me at appointments, “Is the baby moving like normal?”
At the time I was asked, I didn’t understand how important that question was. I didn’t understand it until it was almost too late. Like I said before, I was lucky.
Expectant mothers shouldn’t have to be lucky to make it through what I did. They should be empowered with the knowledge necessary to prevent those situations. Count the Kicks is an organization that does that, and it does it well! Its information is accessible and understandable, and it needs to be in the hands of expectant mothers.
– Amanda, Preston’s Mom