Birth Story

It has been 5 days since my last post and 5 days since my boys were born via C-Section.   Ironically, after I was reassured that baby B still didn't have reverse end diastolic flow during the morning Doppler, he started having decelerations (in his pulse) on the monitors and instead of my 2 one-hour monitoring sessions, I was on the monitor pretty much 24/7. At some point in early afternoon, my doctor came in and said we are in that gray area of delivering or waiting and asked what I wanted to do. I told him I wanted to wait – a part of me begged that we would make it at least another week, that these boys would grow just a little bit more, that risks of scary preemie issues would be reduced, etc.  My doctor pursed his lips and told me he was thinking about delivering me but respected my maternal instinct to wait. I continued on 24/7 monitoring into late evening hours. M was by my bedside and wasn't going to leave me at night. I was emotionally unstable, cried almost nonstop, and was terrified of all the unknowns. The plan was to repeat my Doppler in the morning if baby B was not going to have any more of these decelerations that lasted over a minute and deprived him of oxygen.

But he did… and by then, we came to terms with the fact that for him, being on the outside was better than on the inside. I blamed myself for his failing cord and for being in that predicament, but I somehow found the strength take a 5 minute shower and psych myself into delivering that night, remembering all the things that needed to happen. I don’t know how I would have done it without watching M be strong by my side – he has a way of calming me down without really even doing anything. He just has to be calm and rational & somehow it can make me feel a lot better although every cell in my body is in a state of complete chaos.

I was wheeled to the OR with M in toe. While the epidural was being administered to my back, I got extremely nauseous from fear and threw up. It wasn’t my favorite part of the whole thing. There was no time for me to fast before surgery like you’re supposed to. Modesty over my body had to go out the window: I was manipulated like a piece of steak on a butcher’s block – one nurse was putting in a catheter, another nurse was doing another non-stress test on the babies and monitoring any contractions, the IV nurse was giving me a loading dose of magnesium, which thankfully I remembered to remind them about. I didn’t need it for me, but studies show that magnesium administered right before labor offered neurological protection to the babies. My doctor agreed and said “Thanks for the reminder!”.  Someone else was putting a hair net on me and anesthesiology was asking me my name, DOB, and other questions to check if I was responding well to the anesthetic. Things were happening fast!!  Just 30 minutes ago, my doctor was on speakerphone in my room with us while he himself was back at home.  Pretty soon, time warped and I was gripping to M’s hand as I felt pressure and pulling sensations reaching all the way up to my ribs. A blood splatter landed on the top part of the curtain that ran across my abdomen to keep M and I from seeing everything. Something behind the curtain was beeping and I had to throw up again. I was so embarrassed, but thankfully I had already emptied my stomach back in the other room when my epidural was administered. This was just adrenaline trying to find a way out of my body.  

Soon, we heard they were ready to deliver baby A and seconds later we heard a high pitched cry that Carter made as he was instantly whisked away to a corner of the large room we were in by a team of nurses, a neonatologist, a respiratory specialist, and slew of other personnel dressed in blue sterile jumpsuits. In another corner, the second team was waiting. One of them was waiting for baby B to bring him back to that corner. A minute later, another equally as high-pitched but healthy cry came from Logan. M and I held our breaths as we looked at each other. I told him not to sit with me but to go to them and to remember to take pictures. I knew I may not see these boys until 12 hours or more from now and pictures would be all I have to live with. M went to Logan first as we had more concerns about his well-being – after all it was because of him that we delivered that night. Apparently, M impressed everyone in the OR as he was recognizing the short abbreviations of necessary equipment that was being attached to the twins. I had buzzed in his ears for weeks about what everything was called and what it looked like, as I was starting to accept the reality of NICU parenting even then. Apgar scores were being called out. Logan’s were 8 at 1 minute and 9 at 5 minutes, which was impressive to us all things considered. Carter’s were 5 and 9. M popped back over to me briefly and told me everything looks ok so far. Both boys were put on CPAP and whisked away to the NICU. Soon enough, I was being wheeled to recovery. M never got to say bye to me and I hoped he knew I was gone and that I was ok. He had seen me in enough pain that day that I could tell watching me go through it was hurting him just the same, though he tried not to show it.

Armed with peace of mind, I was being checked by nurses in recovery every so often, but spent most of my time counting minutes until I would be wheeled back to my hospital room where I would be reunited with M and our parents who were already on the way. I knew I had to lay there  for 2 hours and those hours proved to be the toughest yet, because next to me was an empty isolate and a curtain away was a mother with a 9lb crying infant and she was talking to him and comforting him. It stung so bad to hear someone else have a joyful, happy birth experience while mine was full of fear, tears, and stress like I never felt in my entire life. I didn’t exactly picture it that way! The nurses attending to me were cold and to the point, not compassionate like the nurses back at HRP (High Risk Perinatal) where I spent most of my hospital bed rest. The numbness of my body was a stark contrast from the emotional hurt and fear I was feeling.

M popped his head in through the curtain. He was no longer wearing his sterile blue jumpsuit and hair cover. I was SOO relieved to see him! As soon as he saw me crying, he understood why. The people behind the curtain were loud with their baby and not only that, but they were Alabama Roll Tide fans and he was annoyed with them almost immediately. In his hands was a folder with pictures of our boys that the hospital provided, a set of footprints, and stats. M also took photos with his phone and made a few videos to last me until the next day, when I could get up and see them myself.

11:41pm. Carter Lee (baby A) 3lb 6oz, 16.5 inches

11:42pm. Logan James (baby B) 2lb 7oz, 15.5 inches

Shortly after, I was moved to my room and parents came in to congratulate us. We finally revealed the names to them all together and showed them the few photos we had. Everyone in the room was emotional. I looked like complete crap by then after a long day of crying. A colony of pimples appeared across my chin. But I didn’t care about any of that. I was having an out of body experience. It finally started to feel like a happy experience and I drank in every photo and footprint. After parents left, it was about 4am and my nurse had to go through admission papers with me. About an hour of that and I still hadn't tried to pump and though I wanted to sleep so badly, I asked her to bring me a breast pump and I needed to start working. It was the only thing I could do to help my boys grow now that they were under the NICU care. M went there to check on them and brought back more snapshots. It was hard to see much baby under all the monitors and tubes and blankets/hats that they seemed to be swimming in. I just couldn't get over the fact that they were THAT small. I guess that growth scan was more or less accurate. Not much fat on them to throw those estimates off. Skin, bones, and a little bit of hair – Logan’s blonde and Carter’s dark brown… but it was all ours and no matter how they looked, we were ready to do anything in the world for them and knew that from this point forward, they were going to be the most important people in our lives.