How scary is it to be admitted to a hospital? I don’t know. Knock on wood, I’ve never been.
I had a patient who had to go to surgery for a cyst and is pregnant. Terrified she was- and with good reason!
I was talking with my schoolmate about babies today and was reminded of her.
She had the prettiest hair that kept falling in her face that I would push aside for her. We talked about her becoming a first time mother and how she wanted the sex of the baby to remain a surprise. I tried to calm her and keep her company until her doctor arrived.
She was trying to hold it in, the nerves that is, but she kept asking if her baby was okay. The doctor came in with the monitor to listen to the heartbeat and turned it on.
He pressed it against her belly and we heard the whooshing sound of the placenta and nothing else.
After a couple of minutes of this, the doctor reassured her that the lack of heartbeat didn’t mean anything bad, he just hadn’t found it yet. He was moving slowly trying to make sure he didn’t miss it.
The tears started to fall and after another minute that stretched on like an hour….a tiny heartbeat fluttered in our ears.
And it grew louder. And stronger.
Until a full, healthy heartbeat blared through the monitor.
Relief swept over all of us. I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath until that moment. She cried tears of joy and relief and laid her head back, running her hands through her hair.
I got her cleaned up and some ice chips and then transferred her to the Ambulatory Care Unit where she would get changed and go home.
That was one of those feel-good moments that keeps pushing me forward to get through the program. It’s a reminder of why I’m going to school to become a nurse. Corny? Maybe. But it’s true nevertheless.