The heartbeat that changed my life: Melissa's story
Patient stories
I was about 36 weeks pregnant when my obstetrician noticed my belly hadn’t grown since my last appointment.
“It could be nothing; some women just carry differently,” she said, trying to calm my fears. “But let’s book some tests – just to be sure.”
My mind raced as I wondered what was going on. Did the baby stop growing? Was he not getting the nutrients he needed? This was my first pregnancy, and it had gone relatively smoothly up to this point.
That’s when my weekly tests at WRHN @ Midtown began.
I would be watched closely until my baby arrived weeks later – including wearing a fetal heart monitor through the duration of my labour that showed his heartbeat on a screen next to my bed.
Kindess and reassurance
I stared at those jagged little waves moving up and down for what felt like hours until a nurse, noticing how fixated I was, held my hand as she moved the monitor out of my view.
"It's my job to watch your baby's heartbeat," she said gently. "It's your job to try to rest before he arrives."
I didn’t realize how much I needed that kindness – how much I needed that reassurance that she had things under control.
A little help
When it was time to deliver, things moved quicker than I ever anticipated. The doctor put my newborn on my chest for the briefest moment, then took him back. He needed some assistance to breathe.
The next time I saw him, he was in the NICU with a CPAP mask on his tiny face.
He didn’t even have a name yet. I was scared to hold him at first.
Through it all, the nursing staff spoke to me with gentleness, assuring me my baby was doing well and that he’d be released from the NICU soon. And they were right.
Within 24 hours, my son was sleeping next to me in my recovery room, soon to be discharged.
Every heartbeat since
Almost exactly one year later, I began working at WRHN Foundation.
It wasn’t until then that I learned how important community generosity is – how the fetal monitor, CPAP machine, and NICU bed my son needed in his earliest moments were all donor-funded.
Today, my son is four. He graduated preschool last week and will start kindergarten in the fall. He’s smart, funny, caring, and sweet.
He loves to draw. He’s obsessed with Spider-Man. He is a typical four-year-old, through and through, and yet, he is uniquely him.
Some nights, when I lay with him at bedtime, I’ll lean in close to listen to his heartbeat and recall the hours before his birth.
I'll think about the kind nurse who watched the monitor so I could rest -- and feel thankful she had the tools she needed to do her job.
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