I go to the Maternal Fetal Medicine office twice a week for NST's (Non-Stress Tests). I've been doing this now for about a month and every test is an adventure for me and "Gary" and all the other women who have "complications" that need to be checked in on regularly. I usually fall asleep through my test because, well, I'm just lying on a reclining chair/table thing in the dark listening to heart beats. It's suprisingly relaxing. Yesterday however, because I desperately needed to use the bathroom and was there for two hours hooked up to monitors because "Gary" had the hiccups, I was pretty alert. Alert enough to eaves drop on the woman doing an NST next to me.
Today "Gary" is at 35 weeks. Yesterday, the woman next to me, we'll call her Bad Mommy, was at 33 weeks. As the technician was measuring her fluid levels with the ultrasound machine, she pointed out to Bad Mommy that there was a lot of calcification in places that there shouldn't be calcification. Susie the tech. then asked Bad Mommy if she is a smoker. Bad Mommy said yes, but, "I've only had three cigarrettes today." My heart hurt right then for Bad Mommy's baby. The poor little kid is getting smoked out every day. As I continued to be monitored, the conversation got worse across the curtain. The amniotic fluid for a baby should be between 8-22 oz. but Bad Mommy's fluid was at 5 oz. Nothing for the little baby to float around in or help it out. As if smoking and low fluid wasn't enough, they brought in another technician to do a more in-depth ultrasound. At that point, they told Bad Mommy that her baby, at 33 weeks, weighs barely 2 pounds. Considering that "Gary" weighs 7 lbs and a baby at 33/34 weeks should weight at least 4, this little baby sure seemed to be in trouble.
Driving home, I was sad. I even told my Mom and Ross about it because I felt so bad. I guess it is another example of some sort of hidden maternal instinct I didn't know I had coming out, but I truly felt bad for this little baby. It is so sad to see a baby starting on the wrong track before it even has a chance to start out on the right track. Maybe if Bad Mommy hadn't have dropped so many F-bombs in the 45 minutes we were there at the same time, I might have felt bad for her, too.
Today "Gary" is at 35 weeks. Yesterday, the woman next to me, we'll call her Bad Mommy, was at 33 weeks. As the technician was measuring her fluid levels with the ultrasound machine, she pointed out to Bad Mommy that there was a lot of calcification in places that there shouldn't be calcification. Susie the tech. then asked Bad Mommy if she is a smoker. Bad Mommy said yes, but, "I've only had three cigarrettes today." My heart hurt right then for Bad Mommy's baby. The poor little kid is getting smoked out every day. As I continued to be monitored, the conversation got worse across the curtain. The amniotic fluid for a baby should be between 8-22 oz. but Bad Mommy's fluid was at 5 oz. Nothing for the little baby to float around in or help it out. As if smoking and low fluid wasn't enough, they brought in another technician to do a more in-depth ultrasound. At that point, they told Bad Mommy that her baby, at 33 weeks, weighs barely 2 pounds. Considering that "Gary" weighs 7 lbs and a baby at 33/34 weeks should weight at least 4, this little baby sure seemed to be in trouble.
Driving home, I was sad. I even told my Mom and Ross about it because I felt so bad. I guess it is another example of some sort of hidden maternal instinct I didn't know I had coming out, but I truly felt bad for this little baby. It is so sad to see a baby starting on the wrong track before it even has a chance to start out on the right track. Maybe if Bad Mommy hadn't have dropped so many F-bombs in the 45 minutes we were there at the same time, I might have felt bad for her, too.
2 comments:
I hate when you see a mom or dad smoking and pushing a stroller or carrying a car seat. They are inflicting lung cancer on someone who doesn't have a choice. Sad.
They are usually the ones you just saw screaming at their kids in the parking lot of wal-mart.
That's sad. Sorry Annie.
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