Stress and Non-Stress Tests.

Okay, the last few entries were catch-up stuff we wanted to get up before we updated with what’s been going on.

We went into Kaiser at 9 am on Thursday for our non-stress test (NST) as ordered by our doctor. Basically, they just strap monitors to the belly and listen to the baby's heart rate for about twenty minutes. The nurse running the tests that day happened to be the same one who taught Steph’s injectables class, and she remembered Stephanie; she didn’t remember the nurse so much, but we’ve taken a lot of classes, after all. Stephanie laied down on her side, and I read Five Red Herrings, and we listened to Wyatt’s heartbeat, and I swear it sounded like a racehorse at full gallop. The kid was a stallion. For about seventeen minutes.

Then it dipped. Enough for us to notice. Enough for the nurse to notice. We've been at Kaiser ever since.

The doctors call it a decel ("d-cell," short for "deceleration"). Essentially, his heart rate slowed way below where we wanted it (he'd been going at about 145-155; this went down to the low 60's). The nurse had Steph shift around, and he came right back up again, but it was worrying enough for them to send us to Triage on the Fourth Floor... right where we’d been sent the night before last. We spent another few hours there being monitored and undergoing an OTC test, where they administer Pitocin to induce a few contractions, and see how the baby takes it.

Now, I have an unreasoning distrust of “Pit” after seeing a horrible documentary called The Business of Being Born (it’s actually a good documentary, but not while you’re pregnant or ever planning to be), so I wasn’t happy with this turn to begin with. It also likely wasn’t going to work, i.e. they weren’t sure Stephanie would actually feel contractions. And she didn’t, but otherwise everything looked fine until they had Stephanie shift position, and Wyatt had another deceleration, and suddenly half the doctors on the floor showed up, scaring the hell out of us. They put Stephanie on oxygen and put her on all fours, and got Wyatt’s heartbeat back up. And when they all cleared out, our friendly neighborhood anesthesiologist stuck around to chat... just to introduce himself and say hi (we later found out) and mention a few anesthesia options for when the time came. That’s when Stephanie really started crying. I don't care if you're St. Mother Teresa Gandhi, if you're the anesthesiologist, nobody wants to meet you, because your mere presence is bad news.

At that point, we both believed Wyatt was coming out that day, within a few hours, via c-section. He was 31 weeks, six days. Not great. We spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for someone to tell us it was time to go.

Dr. Walton finally came in around 4:00ish and took us downstairs for an uber-ultrasound, and the story is this: Steph's amniotic fluid is lower than it should be, and combined with her two-vessel chord, what we think is happening is that occasionally, Wyatt is sloshed over in such a way that he's on his chord, effectively choking it off.

They moved us into Room A on the Fourth Floor, a pretty nice room with a view of the Oakland/Berkeley hills; lots of natural light, and the sun never shines directly in. We spent that first night in hospital, being monitored, and Wyatt had two more decels... both when Steph got back into bed after a trip to the bathroom. Except on reflection, nobody was certain they were real decelerations. The monitors aren’t really all that bright, and when Steph shifts around - however slightly - it often looses Wyatt. And sometimes picks up Stephanie’s heart rate. And that looks like a deceleration for Wyatt. Because otherwise his heartrate strip looks absolutely perfect, A+, and as far as anyone can tell, the baby's absolutely fine and happy and still kicking up a storm. You can hear those on the monitor, too... it sounds like somebody roughly grabbing a live microphone.

Anyway, they were planning to administer the OTC test again the next day - the 4th of July - and if it led to another decel, Wyatt was coming out, period. Because his chart looked so good, and minus those few minutes of decel over the course of 24+ hours of monitoring, Dr. Walton decided to scrub the OTC. That happened around 2:00 pm. Up to that point, we again spent the day waiting for someone to tell us it was time to head for surgery.

Instead, the new plan - and the plan changes every time new information comes along - is that Stephanie will stay at Kaiser Oakland, monitored 24/7, with the idea being to push out any type of delivery (almost certainly a C-section) at least a week if possible. With the exception of the lungs, which are the last to develop, all Wyatt’s organs and bones look good, and he's (really, it's Steph, but it was for Wyatt) been given two steroid shots that will help his lungs develop a bit faster. If he had to come out Right Now, his chances would be 90% or better. Kaiser Oakland is fully equipped to handle 23 week deliveries. The Neonatal ICQ is less than a hundred yards from our room.

Our parents all have their bags packed. I’ve been making runs home for a few hours, and spending the rest of the time with Stephanie in the room. She’s on bedrest. Her remaining baby showers have been canceled. Kaiser’s now home.

If we’d made a list of all the different ways, under all the different circumstances we could’ve had Wyatt, this would be rock-bottom last.