BPP #2 is also a 10/10 after our non-stress test yesterday. Appointment was quick and easy-- set up of the fetal monitor went much more smoothly :-), and we were in and out pretty quick.
It did take a little longer to get Parker's necessary movements/heart rate spikes. At our appointment last week, his heart rate was consistently in the 140s and spiking up to 160s when he moved. Yesterday, his heart rate was down in the low 130s and spiked above 150 only a few times.
They left me in the room by myself for a few minutes while the monitor ran. I sat there with my little Jeopardy buzzer, waiting for kicks, with my eyes glued to the monitor printout. The nurses and doctor came in to check on me at various intervals, and in between I actually found myself making some strange attempt to coach Parker into a better performance.
"Come on, P-nut, you aren't doing as well as last week!"
Seriously, Abby? All that resulted from this was a steadily increasing stress level on my part. Parker steadfastly refused to participate in my shenanigans. He was happy and comfortable and not one bit interested in moving and exhibiting cardiac acrobatics. I kept talking to him and poking my belly.
"Hello? What are you doing? I need you to move so we can get our two points! I'll get you two donuts on the way home!"
I suddenly felt VERY MUCH like the moms on Toddlers and Tiaras who give their children Pixy Stix and shout at them in the hotel hallway.
Dr. Sermons came back in to look at the printout. He scanned it and said, "You look fine! See ya next week."
"BUT WAIT!" I shouted and outlined my concerns that his heart rate was lower, coupled with the more-stomach-up news from Friday. He stood there, impassive, and waited for me to finish my tirade.
"There's nothing to worry about. I had your results from Friday before you even left that office. They're not worried. I'm not worried. He's tired today. We all take naps from time to time. He's moved enough, and his readout is reactive. His heart rate is well within the normal range. You're fine."
The curse of so many doctors appointments is that I am now convinced that I have somehow graduated from mini-medical school. I know what "normal" is supposed to look like, and I apparently can raise the red flags FOR the doctors and tell them when to worry. One of the biggest blessings I have are lots and lots of unflappable doctors who give the facts but tolerate little in the way of foolishness. I never one time have felt like any of them are not taking us seriously or are being negligent in any way. I have felt, time and time again, that they are trying their darndest to keep us calm, thus keeping Parker calm.
Parker has been a pre-natal superstar. He has flown over each and every hurdle thus far, and we have been nothing but encouraged throughout this pregnancy. I suppose I have hit the point now where anything even REMOTELY "sub-par" (in my opinion, not the experts') is a cause for worry. What on earth am I hoping to accomplish with that train of thought? Am I trying to justify the increasing worries that I have as the time gets closer?
All it took to snap me out of it QUICK was a vision of me, standing by Parker's bed in the NICU, doing some modified version of this to coax him into stardom during his doctors' examinations:
**feeling particularly convicted around the 30 second mark with the "10"s, due to our BPP scores. I shudder.**
If I EVER yell "Sparkle, baby!" at my sweet little boy, I give you leave to beat me mercilessly with whatever objects are nearby.