Opinion editor's note: This article, part of our New Voices collection, was written by a first-time contributor to Star Tribune Opinion. For more information about our efforts to continually expand the range of views we publish, see startribune.com/opinion/newvoices.
•••
This session, Minnesota lawmakers have the opportunity to save 120 babies' lives every year. The proposed bill is not costly, and it's not controversial. It simply gives the green light to educate expectant parents on the importance of fetal movement monitoring. And it sends a signal to parents who have experienced pregnancy loss that we can do better.
More than 350 babies are stillborn in the state of Minnesota (born without breathing at 20 weeks gestation or more) each year. That's approximately 700 parents and hundreds of thousands of extended family and friends who grieve the loss of these very wanted and loved babies. My family became part of this statistic in 2014 when my daughter Reese was stillborn just 16 hours before her scheduled delivery. We were completely blindsided then, and the shock of this reality periodically sends shivers down my spine even now.
As the weeks had crept by during my pregnancy, my daughter had thrived in utero. After genetic testing and numerous ultrasounds, we were told that there were no indicators of concern. Reese, albeit measuring large, was hitting every milestone.
Around 37 weeks I noticed her movements changing, becoming weaker and less prominent. Although I had noticed this change, I was not aware of the importance of routinely tracking fetal movement and didn't have a baseline other than a gut feeling something felt off. When I brought this concern to my provider, I was told that this is normal; babies move less as they get closer to birth. It wasn't until after my daughter was born with the cord wrapped tightly around her neck twice that I learned that consistently tracking fetal movement in the third trimester can be the first and sometimes only indicator that a baby is in distress.
Reese had become tangled in her umbilical cord. With each twist, roll and jab of her 8-pound, 3-ounce body, her cord constricted, limiting her blood and oxygen supply. For you and me, when we aren't feeling well or we aren't getting the nutrients we need, our body demands rest and slows down. It's no different in utero. Babies who aren't getting enough nutrients through the cord or placenta will often slow down. Their historically active time of day will become less active.
The only way babies can communicate with us in utero is through their movements. Our job is to pay attention. The problem isn't that parents aren't paying attention but that they aren't educated on how to pay attention, on the importance of tracking fetal movements and on what to do when they notice a change.