I have been a perinatal nurse for more than two years now. Most people have a tendency to assume that everything that surrounds perinatal nursing is astounding and rewarding. For nearly all the instances, they are, but then there are those moments like the agony of pregnancy, the grief of childlessness or even the despair of death.
Was assigned to triage, one fine day, it seemed just more active than normal. I was assessing patient after patient. But by lunchtime, I’d managed to clean all the beds and decided to catch a quick lunch. As I was going to depart, a patient walked through the doors followed by her family members.
As night nurse cost followed this tiny patient onto the triage mattress, I could not even tell she was pregnant. Having a tensed voice she advised me that her due data was she had not felt her baby move because the night before. Putting the baby track on her tiny pregnant belly, I discovered nothing. Instantly, I knew that the baby was no longer alive inside her. However, I didn’t wish to give up. I moved the monitor around the little belly over and over again, just hoping that I would get some sign of a baby’s heartbeat.
The mother knew. She maintained her husband’s hands and started sobbing softly. In between sobs, she wished to see her mother who was waiting beyond the triage area for her. As a nurse, I really couldn’t say anything to her. Rather, I held her closely and directed her into the triage room and advised them that the doctor would be on his way shortly.
My heart pained for the parents who had lost her first child, a grandma who’s missing her first grand-child. The doctor came and pulled the ultrasound device to the patient’s mind to be able to visualize the still and quiet heart of her infant. This time, the finality of the situation sunk in as everybody could see on the monitor that the baby’s heart was no longer beating. Everyone cried once more. And the one thing I was thankful for was at that moment that the mother had the support of her nearest and dearest about her and the remaining triage beds from the area had been empty. It was not good to hear the shouts of a mother who had lost her infant.
It’s not a simple job for a nurse to assist a patient having a full-term intrauterine foetal passing through labour. The majority of us working in this area have been through this at some point of time. Whilst we understand the area of pain that the individual and her family goes through, we as nurses are both physically and emotionally shattered. You cannot offer any comforting words to ease her pain or be in a position to supply any closure because of her.
To the individual, we are just momentary guides through a few of the most painful times in their own lives. They would not remember everything we said or everything we did. They’d never know that we indulged to them, alone in an empty area in which we wouldn’t be seen. And while we see this many occasions in our way of work, I could honestly state that I remember each one of them.