The E.R.

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

I had completely lost track of time. Had I fallen asleep? I didn't feel rested at all, but I must've finally fallen asleep. Or passed out from sheer exhaustion.

 

I went to the door. It was my parents. They had come to pick up the dessert I could no longer take to the family reunion. After opening the door, I walked right over to the couch and sat down. I couldn't stay standing without getting light-headed.

 

My mom took one look at me and said, "I think you need to go to the Emergency Room."

 

I thought I needed to too. However, the fear of being told it actually WAS just the flu and THE ONLY thing I could do was rest, was too much. Nope. I was staying at home. By tomorrow I would feel fine.

 

I needed to make it to Sunday. It was Father's Day. My Kneader's Chunky Cinnamon bread was in the fridge ready for Matt's Father's Day Breakfast. All of Sloane's presents were wrapped for her second birthday celebration.

 

A trip to the Emergency Room was out of the question.

 

My parents took my dessert and left. I went back to bed and alternated between crying and sleeping. My right side throbbed with pain. My fever was out of control, but every time I checked my temperature it said, "99.8" degrees. By this point, I was convinced that Bennett must have dropped into an awkward position. I had battled sciatica my whole pregnancy. My right side had always taken the worst hit. Sciatica and the flu - could this pregnancy get anymore difficult?!

 

Looking back, the pregnancy was the problem. Every symptom that pointed to a Kidney Infection, also could be blamed on the pregnancy. This was my fourth pregnancy in five years. My body had been through a lot. Every time a new symptom started, I immediately found a logical way to blame the pregnancy.

 

This was something that would be repeated to me by multiple nurses during my hospital stay.

 

When Matt got home from work, I tried to eat. I really tried to "MAKE" myself feel better. I wanted so badly to be well. I forced myself to sit up in bed and eat. I showered and tried to do my hair. I ignored the dizziness and the shivers. My thinking was that if I started to go through the motions, my body would just follow along.

 

Night came and sleep didn't. I had fully expected to be better by morning.

 

I wasn't. It was worse. But I wasn't ready to admit that to ANYONE.

 

I tried desperately to get ready for my family to come over that afternoon. Matt ended up doing most of the work. He got everything out, set everything up, cooked pizzas and cleaned the house. All the while, I sat propped up in a chair getting more and more sick.

 

Again, I forced myself to get somewhat presentable. I needed to look better than I did the day before. If anyone found out that I was getting sicker, I knew they'd drag me to the hospital. I didn't want that to happen. I was still worried they would tell me it was just the flu and to get over it. How embarrassing would it be to be told that you were just a wuss?

 

Everyone came over and all seemed fine. But, by the end of the party, I knew something was terribly wrong.

 

Bennett wasn't moving.

 

Bennett was my most active baby. He still is. The child never stops moving. He wiggles when he's awake and wiggles when he's asleep. Once he first started fluttering, he didn't stop.

 

My fever had especially made him freak out. I was convinced it was because I just shook so bad. I thought that the shaking made it really hard for him to stay comfortable. At the time, it seemed likely.

 

But now, nothing.

 

I watched from my chair while Sloane opened her presents. Third birthdays really seem to be the first time that they realize that the whole party is just for them. Sloane loved it. She loved her gifts and she especially loved all the attention. We had big plans for the next week. Tuesday was her actual birthday and Friday we were planning on taking everyone to Cowabunga Bay. Her celebration was far from over.

 

Everyone left. I was so relieved. I could finally go to bed and get better. However, I was still really worried about Bennett's movements.

 

That worry only escalated later on.

 

 I started bleeding.

 

I didn't cry. I didn't get upset. I looked Matt in the eye and told him to take me to the E.R.

 

Even though the bleeding was scary, it was oddly comforting at the same time. As weird as that sounds, it finally gave me a reason to the hospital. Ever since Wednesday, the "I just don't feel good" reason wasn't enough for me. I didn't want to burden anyone. The bleeding, however, was a legitimate concern. No one would could blame me for wanting to get checked out.

 

My sister drove all the way back over to our house and we left to go to the hospital.

 

Neither of us spoke on the drive there. We parked and walked into the E.R. It was empty. The lady in the window asked us what she could do for us.

 

"I have the flu and it's not getting any better."

 

"Are you pregnant?"

 

"Yes" (As if the huge belly didn't give it away).

 

"Go up to Labor and Delivery. If they want us to see you down here, they'll send you back down."

 

I wasn't that surprised. I knew they'd want the baby monitored, which is what I wanted too.

 

By the time we got up to Labor and Delivery, I was a mess. I hadn't been on my feet that much in days. I was staggering, shivering and crying.

 

The triage nurse's look said it all.

 

She thought I was in labor. She was kind and her initial reaction was excitement, but as my story unfolded, her excitement turned into genuine concern.

 

She immediately took us to a room and slapped a fetal monitor on my stomach.

 

Her look changed again.

 

This time she was out rightly distressed.

 

Bennett's heart rate was high. Way too high. I wasn't sure what to think about this. Everything I had read about pregnancy seemed to say that a low fetal heart rate was a concern. I had no idea what a high heart rate meant. She checked my pulse. It was at this point that she starting asking a bunch of questions. I was slightly confused by them all because they didn't seem to relate to the flu at all. She finally put a heart monitor on the end of my finger. After a minute or so, an alarm started going off. Another minute passed and a different alarm sounded. The first alarm indicated that Bennett's heart rate was too high. The second would indicate that my heart rate was way too high as well. These alarms would become common background noises for the next couple of days. She told us she was going to go grab a mask, just in case it was the flu. That was fine and I actually thought about maybe having her grab one for Matt. I quickly decided against it. If it was the flu, he had likely already been exposed.

 

When she came back in, I immediately noticed she wasn't wearing a mask.

 

She had me sit up and she started pounding on my back. I cried out in pain. She and Matt helped me lay back down. She then checked my temperature. "103 degrees".

 

It was starting to become obvious that whatever I had was NOT the flu.