I wanted to respond to my friend Virginia’s comment about kick counts, but I realized that my reply would be way too long for a comment. I also thought it was something I should mention here.

My midwives have asked me to do kick counts this time, because of the previous stillbirth. They did not mention kick counts when I was pregnant with Devin. I’m not entirely sure if they think it’s something medically useful, or if it’s something that they suggest for those of us who are a little bit more paranoid than your average pregnant woman. Either way it is something I am doing.

The thing is, kick counts might have saved Devin. It very well might not have – he was probably pretty oxygen deficient at that point, given how long his cord had been compromised. But had I noticed his distress earlier they might have gotten him out, maybe. At the very least his death would have been discovered sooner than it was.

My last week of pregnancy remains pretty clear to me, or at least some parts of it. I know that on Thursday night – a week before I was induced – Denis mentioned that the baby had been really quiet that day. I felt a shock at this because I hadn’t really noticed, but then started to sweat a little when I thought about it. He had been really quiet all day – really quiet. I got some juice to drink, I layed on my left side, I poked and prodded my belly. And in response he did kick me – but only a couple of times. The next day, when I was at work, he was very active, to the point that I remarked to a coworker that he was going crazy in there. Me in my naivete took that as reassurance that the previous day’s lack of movement was nothing. I promptly forgot about the whole thing – and, indeed, got wrapped up in my life so that over the next few days I didn’t notice the complete lack of kicks.

After the fact, after he had died, after he was born, after I started reading and talking to other loss-mamas, I started thinking about what could have happened. If I had noticed that Thursday night that a couple of kicks was not normal. Or the next day, if I had been aware that his hyper-activity was not normal. He was extremely consistent up until that point. Those two days he was alive, but something was wrong. And then he was gone.

That’s what kick counts do. They’re not a measure of “are you alive in there?” but rather a means of evaluating what “normal” is. Some people have very active babies, some have very quiet babies. It’s a change in the pattern that is of concern, that could show a sign of distress.

Now I agree, it is far from perfect, but it’s better than nothing. Every day I time how long it takes her to make 10 distinct movements – not just kicks. I try to do them when she is most active, which is not always at the same time every night (it’s usually when I sit/lay back after eating dinner). I also make note of what her overall movement has been like over the day. I have a pretty good sense by now of what her normal pattern is, but writing it down and having some solid record to refer back to is invaluable to me. It’s much easier to shrug something off when it’s just in your head – it’s something more tangible when it’s written down in front of you. It can also help convince a nurse/doctor that there is cause for concern if you ever do feel like something is wrong, it gives weight to your concerns.

So I do that all and hope very much that she never gives me reason to worry.

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Also, belly pics are now up to date on the page. Just thought I’d mention it. ;)