This morning K informed me that she hadn't felt the baby all day yesterday. We lay in bed for two hours trying to feel any movement. She tried eating. She tried drinking cold water. She got up and took a shower before lying back down again. Nothing.
Throughout all of this, I was being K's cheerleader. Don't worry. Everything's OK. Etc. Inside, however, the visions and dreams of raising our daughter I've been having over the last few months were replaced by the nightmare scenario of losing our unborn child. I saw myself slogging through my own grief in order to care for K who somehow blamed herself for what had happened. I pictured the endless phone calls and cards from friends and family expressing their sympathy. I saw K folding her maternity clothes into a box for storage.
At 9:00 K called her doctor who said to come right over. About 10 minutes after we were led into a room for an ultrasound, K began to feel the baby kick. She began to feel bad about going to the doctor, but I felt that we'd done the right thing. If something had been wrong, she's far enough along that the baby could be viable after an emergency C-section.
I think we both feel like we dodged a bullet. I've never had a harder time putting up a positive front, though.
5:58:30 PM 
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