The Scarths

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Not Alone

I stole this from another moms blog, but loved it, so I dont feel too bad.

A Different Journey: Reactions to a Premature Birth
Mara Tesler Stein, Psy.D.

So many times when I talk to parents, I hear a deep sense of bewilderment in their voices, in the questions that they ask. Their puzzlement at first seems to be a reflection of their attempts to find their way around in their new circumstances. After all, when you have a preemie, you are suddenly thrust into this confusing and overwhelming world -- you are disoriented. You are flooded with feelings and drowning in information. As you feel your way about in this unfamiliar and frightening place, your confusion begins to diminish. And yet, if you are still left with a vague (and sometimes, not so vague!) feeling of unease, of something being different about you, you are not alone.

Parents may worry after a year, two years, ten years or twenty, that they have not "gotten over" the traumas and losses of having a premature baby. They may concede that they are more vigilant now. They sometimes find themselves very afraid that something awful will happen to their child. Memories pop up in the most unexpected places. Tears well up without warning. They secretly wonder if they have PTSD or are not moving through the "stages" of grief in the "right" way. They imagine that the premature birth irreparably damaged something in them. In short, they fear that something is terribly wrong with them.

Our appreciation (as a society) for the monumental changes that occur during pregnancy and after childbirth has grown in recent years. Now, instead of primarily encouraging parents to learn about the biological changes that they are going through, we are also talking about the emotional and social transformation that any parent experiences after the birth of a new baby.

Parents who have uncomplicated pregnancies and full-term deliveries have a community of people that they join when they have their babies. More and more, they find the changes that they feel acknowledged and validated. Parents of full-term babies say with a chuckle, "I'll never be the same again" and most other parents know just what they mean.

None of us will ever be the same again -- but a lot of the time, we're not so sure that anybody knows what we mean. Our journey was distinct. Our transformation took a startling path -- perhaps a longer road or one with more twists and turns. We are different now. And the unease we feel, I believe, comes in part from our struggle to figure out who we are now, how we fit in to the world we used to inhabit, and how we want to move forward.

So many times, parents talk about how their babies amaze them. This is regardless of whether your preemie survived -- whether you felt your baby move inside you strongly but then didn't have that chance after delivery; whether you saw your baby struggle with all they had, only to have organs fail; or whether your baby survived to come home and grow up.

"They are so strong," parents say. "They are such survivors, such fighters."

I'll bet that each and every one of you made it through something that would have been unimaginable to you before you survived it. Total bedrest? Magnesium Sulfate? Juggling the needs of older children and unborn ones? Splitting time between competing demands of work, school, home, spouse, and helpless baby in the NICU? Knowing and loving your tiny babies; wishing you could take their place; making unfathomable decisions; truly wishing and hoping while living with not knowing.

Have you given yourself the chance to look back at that time and the time that has passed since then and marvel at yourself? Can you remember who you were before this pregnancy, this child? Take a minute to think about the things that you have learned about yourself. Reflect for a moment on the things that you know now, the things that transformed who you were into the person you are today. I'm certain all of you can detail the steps, small and large, that your preemies took in their own development -- have you given yourself the chance to really appreciate your own metamorphosis?

Some of us feel like walking wounded much of the time. Ever vigilant, we wait for the next shoe to drop, and then the next one and the next one. Others may feel more robust now, but still different than before. It's not just because of being parents to this new baby -- but because of how you got there. You have seen something profoundly different. You know things that you didn't know before, and that many parents out there still don't know.

It's because we love as deeply as we do that we struggle so much. We want our children to sail through. We want to spare them any suffering. We want them to have every possible chance to thrive. And as parents, we are faced with the reality that we can't always shield our children. We cannot take over, take all control and make everything all right. It's terrifying. And infuriating. And so terribly sad. Most parents gain this in practical experience over the course of a lifetime of parenting. Parents of preemies are in the unique position of facing this reality much, much sooner.

And so we have to figure out how to move forward -- bearing these awesome losses and carrying this monumental knowledge. It's the sort of thing that can paralyze you -- and often does, at first. And then we slowly start to think again, to move again, and to trust again. It's not that you start to believe that the world is always fair or perfect or that "everything will be okay." But you start to remember the ways in which things are okay, and trust in your own ability to not merely survive, but also to make some sense out of all of this. Maybe you come to some acceptance of the limitations you or your child face. Maybe you search for ways to help other people in your shoes. Maybe you start to actually find value in this journey.

One thing is for certain. You will never be quite the same, again. But I would like to suggest that this journey leaves us altogether wiser, stronger, more tender and more human. And it is the lessons that we learn that we pass to our children.

I can remember in the weeks of my long hospitalization and during the early weeks after my girls were born -- struggling with the fact that in the course of one hour, I had gone from being professor/supervisor/therapist, to being helpless; hooked up to an IV and a fetal monitor, and completely disoriented. Above and beyond the shock, my identity, who I was, was hooked into my profession, my confidence in my ability to understand, to tolerate ambiguity (yes, I thought that I was very good at tolerating ambiguity!), and to cope. And there I lay, in a hospital bed -- more afraid than I had ever been in my entire life.

I remember being angry that the doctors weren't treating me like a peer. I remember being frustrated that they wouldn't (or more likely, couldn't) answer my never-ending questions. I remember having a terrible time figuring out where to put "Dr. Stein" when Mara was laying in a hospital bed, terrified of losing her babies.

But an interesting thing started to happen. My mixed feelings about actually having these babies started to disappear. My worries about whether I would be a good mom, whether I could put myself aside for them (all typical first-time parent worries, I know, but intense nonetheless) stopped being such concerns. One awful night, as I prayed that the reason I was having trouble breathing was because of a pulmonary embolism (They could treat me, right? I was resilient) rather than a feared uterine infection (that would mean delivering the twins immediately, who knew what they could survive), I realized that I would do anything that I could to protect these children. It was like a new part of me was born -- myself as "mother."

Once the twins were born, their first weeks were a total blur. That previously competent, confident "Dr. Stein" was really nowhere to be found. The sobbing woman standing over those warming beds, wishing she could breathe for her babies was unfamiliar. The gradual slipping away of my old self during the hospitalization seemed complete. It was hard to even imagine being the way I had been before. And then something surprising began to happen. I started to "wake up." But the person I woke up to was not the one who had gone to sleep. Two experiences (one with each of my new daughters) opened the door to the blending of my old self -- not quite as it was, and my new self -- not yet formed.

The first real sign of it happened on a day when the twins were about ten days old. Layla had an umbilical line that prevented us from holding her. As the days passed, and she stabilized, I started to become concerned (as a child psychologist, I told myself) that she had never been held. The nurses dissuaded me, said that every time she was touched, she desaturated. But I persisted -- most of their touching was intrusive (by necessity) and disturbing to her. She needed her mommy to hold her. Was I her mommy? I felt so detached, but part of me pressed on. Finally, they pulled the line, and sat me down in a rocker, placing Layla in my arms. Both of us took a deep breath. She curled up against me, and I watched her oxygen saturation climb. It was hard not to be smug.

The next sign happened when they were three weeks old. Stable on a small amount of oxygen, Gavriella began to desaturate slightly, but regularly. I became increasingly anxious. I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to know what was wrong, I wanted the doctors to take some action towards determining why this was happening. Everyone seemed quite nonchalant. "It's just a preemie thing." they said. It just wasn't good enough. So for the first time, I pushed. I asked to have our primary attending paged. After some confusion, the attending present agreed to do a chest x-ray. I left the unit for change of shift and when I returned, I was informed that Gavi had some pulmonary edema. "I know." I said.

Our resident, a new mom herself, came up to me and said, "You're a mom, you know these things." But I rejected that idea, initially. "I'm a clinician!" I said. "I know how to go about making a diagnosis -- I just don't have all the medical information to make a diagnosis here!" At the time, I couldn't accept that there was a part of me that knew, that felt, and was accurate -- and that this part was not purely my professional self. I couldn't believe that there was a competent mom inside of me. And I also couldn't really believe that the agonizing knot in my stomach that I felt when watching Gavriella's monitor had anything to do with being competent -- with being relevant. What I realize now, looking back, is that these were the first small steps towards integrating who I used to be, and who I am now.

I used to be a professional. I still am, but now I'm a mom. I'm not just any kind of mom, I'm a mom who went on this journey and is still surviving, most days!

Take some time and think about the way things used to be -- the way you used to be. Think some more about what this experience has given you. The journey is ongoing. The road you are on will never be the same one that you thought you were entering when you imagined parenting this baby. The parent you imagined that you would be is probably somewhat different than how you developed. But this difference does not mean that you are damaged. It does not mean that you have not "recovered" from the premature birth. What it means is that you are transformed. And that's exactly as it should be

Friday, August 26, 2011

I did not understand

In the last year my life has changed dramatically. I used to be consumed with being a wife and working full time. I got married in July last year, and then in November found out I was pregnant. We went in to our first prenatal visit and since I was not sure how far along I was, they scheduled an early ultrasound. We went in for our ultrasound, and found out I was just past 5 weeks along, and that I was pregnant with TWINS. This was a shock to all involved, and I could not believe that I was going to be a mommy of twins. My pregnancy was pretty run of the mill up until I was about 28 weeks along. This is when I really started to feel the terribleness of having two babies in a place where really only one should be. Then the problems started. At first my cervix was short, so my doc told me to start to take it easier, perhaps start cutting my work days in half. So I did, then they did an ultrasound, and the babies were smaller than they should be. So they set me up with an appointment with a specialist. We went to this appointment and found out that the babies were small, but that they were still in the 25thish percentile, so they were not too worried. However, while doing this ultrasound they found out that my cervix had shortened to half of what it was, and at that point, they put me on bedrest. I do not know how many have been on bedrest, but it really is not cool. It is horrible not being able to do anything. Honestly at this point there was so much I really could not do anyway. Many would tell me that I looked great, and they could not even tell that I was pregnant with twins, but regardless of how I looked, I FELT pregnant with twins. At my 35 week appointment, they found protein in my urine, and I had elevated blood pressure, so the doc I saw which was not my normal OB told me to take some tests, and go to the hospital on Saturday to do a Non Stress Test. So I showed up, lo and behold that evening due to intrauterine growth restriction due to preeclampsia they scheduled an emergency c-section. This is all in my birth story,
Now everything really has changed. Everyone told us that it would, but you do not really understand until you are there. My life is now consumed with love, tons of poopy/wet diapers, breastfeeding twins at the same time at night, pumping during the day along with bottle feeding them, and thoroughly enjoying the feeling of not being pregnant with twins anymore.
So many people told me it would be crazy. And it is.
I was told about sleepless nights. Indeed they are.
I have heard I will have my hands full. Yep, one baby for each hand. My hands and my heart are overfull.
I was told my life would never be the same, because it would never again be just about me. But that it would not matter, because it would be worth it. This was something I really did struggle to believe. This is because I am one of those people who really did not care to be around other people’s kids/infants. My whole life I have been nervous about having my own kids because I have never been one who connected with kids; especially babies. I always hoped that it would be different when they were my own.
Then I was blessed with the gift of these little angels, and the power to love beyond anything I could have imagined. I am holding on tightly to these moments. I love these little ones. Their cries, their little breaths against my skin, their personalities. My heart is full of gratitude.
I may no longer have time to shower everyday and I can't remember if I had time to brush my teeth today.
I do know one thing, however, I got to snuggle two beautiful newborns all day...and then again all night.
I go back to work on Monday, and I hope that I can somehow figure out how to have a work/life balance. I will miss my girls more than anything. I already know this. I have not felt it yet, so I do not know how deeply it will affect me,
I know it will affect me though, because I have never wanted to be somewhere so badly as I do now. I want to be by these little girls sides watching them grow, and experience life. I want to see their first little laughs, their first grin, the first time they roll over during tummy time; I want to see all their firsts and seconds and thirds. And when I go back to work fulltime I am going to miss so many of these things.
Ben is going to be staying home with the girls for a while, and I know that he would rather be out providing for the family, and have a good stable job, but I am so jealous of him. Jealous that he is going to be able to see the girls all day every day, and he will be the one to witness the firsts in their lives, and I will be at work dealing with things and people who don’t really matter while missing out on the milestones of the two little girls that I love more than I can stand.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Ramblings of a tired mom

I am not sure how we are doing, but think we are doing ok…It seems like all we do is change diapers, feed the girls, and get them to sleep. They are starting to have more awake time now as well, which has been nice to be able to see them interact with things, but rough as it now means less sleep for us as well, and we really were not getting a lot to start with.
I have to pump instead of breastfeed because of the girls being preemies, and the doctor asking that to ensure they are growing as well as needed I add a teaspoon of high calorie supplemental powder to my breast milk. I have to say that it is not fun. I pump every 3 hours to keep up my supply, and the girls have still been keeping to an every 4 hour eating schedule, so that tells you how much sleep I was getting. I have actually made the decision to pump every 4 hours at night, and every 3 during the day so that I can try to get more sleep. Now if we can get the girls to understand that nighttime is when they go to sleep after they eat, and daytime is when they can stay awake.
They are darling little girls, and I fall in love again each time I see them.
After Mom and Dad left, Ben and I had a really hard time eating, because we were so tired that we would rather sleep than take the time to make anything to eat, and I have now figured out that one of the girls is not able to tolerate me eating milk products. This sucks because so many of my “easy snacks” are dairy. So I did not have anything easy to eat, so I just didn’t.
That is when the lady at our church called and saved us. The last few days they have brought meals and it has been a life saver. I never understood how much a simple meal would mean to someone.
We also learned yesterday from one of the ladies that brought us a meal, that one of the couples who we have made friends with here husband is losing his job. He has worked there forever. It is a large company who is laying off 1500 people, and he was affected. It breaks our heart. We hope that he can either get retirement benefits, or find another source of income.
It is a hard economy everywhere. We are feeling the effects of it ourselves. Ben has lost his job now as well. He has been applying many places, but the dilemma we are facing is that the jobs available in this town would not even cover the cost of daycare, so it is actually cheaper for him to not have a job than it would be for him to find one, and put the girls in daycare. Which I don’t want anyway.
I hope we can do it.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Short Video

Thanks Candace for the preemie clothes! Ana needed something that fit! Thanks Rozanne for the very cute clothes! I can't wait to be able to use them. Thank you Grandma Dayley for the very lovely dress and booties. Thanks MJ for the Bow board. I love it! And Most of all, Thanks Mom and Dad for coming and staying with us for almost 2 full weeks, and for helping with everything! Cleaning, cooking, feeding all hours night and day. Thanks for everything. We loved having you here, and were so grateful for the help in all ways. I had to cry just a little when you left. But I was also sad that you had to leave these two little ones behind. I know you loved holding them and loving on them. Anytime you want to visit, please feel free! They are already growing up too fast.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Released!

We were finally released on Monday( July 11th)

To be home with my little girls is so awesome. in so many forms of the word.

Just waiting to be released! Emily is all relaxed while Ana is feeling a little out of her element.

Ana ready to come home.

Ana in the start of her going home outfit

Our little cow Ana!

Mom holding Ana without any wires in her own clothes for the first time!

Emily in the start of her going home outfit

Emily our little Monkey just stretching!

All dressed!

Better view of the little hat!

Home safe and sound (actually this was a picture taken a few days later when we went to the doctor, but I didnt get a picture of them in their carseats on release day, so we are going to just have to pretend!

The drive home wore them out! Here they are for the very first time in their own house with each other

Da holding his two little girls home at last

Goodnight all. We are glad to be home!

Pediatric Unit

Here are some pictures of the rooms we stayed in here in the 5th floor.
This place was actually amazing. It makes me sad to know that most of the time it is used for little children that have terminal illnesses, or the like. I am so blessed to know that when my little ones were released they will grow and develop and hopefully live a full life.
Each room had its own little bathroom with a shower (thank goodness...I was getting pretty stinky after a few days!)
They also rolled me in a hospital bed since I had just gone through major surgery. That I once again felt so blessed to be able to stay in the hospital in a bed that made me much more comfortable instead of having to go home and leave my little ones by themselves.

Even with being in the hospital surrounded by nurses and doctors, I have to admit I felt so very alone. Two little babies who were hooked up to all sorts of monitors. These monitors went off all the time because something was not within the normal range. So what would always seem to happen was I would just get to sleep and one of the monitors would beep. I would wake up freaking out that something bad was happening, and within a few seconds whatever it was would right itself and the beeping would stop. augh! This was so terrible. There were a few times where the beeping didnt stop, and the nurse had to come in and do something such as change the iv bag, or turn up the heat in the isolette, or something. But there was not ever a time where it turned out to be something that was wrong with one of the girls that didnt right itself quickly. It still made my heart race and my nerves get frayed each time it happened.
They had to do a car seat test on each of the girls before they could release them. This was to ensure that they would not have respitory failure on the way home because of the position they were in. So the first one to go throught this was Emily. they put her in her car seat and then put her in what I refer to as the jail. This was awful! So they put them in the car seat for double the time it took you to get home and kept them hooked up to monitors to check to see if everything was in the clear. She passed with flying colors, but looked so uncomfortable in that car seat that I just wanted to get her out! But I left her in there for the hour that it took. She passed and said they were going to go get the doctor to write up the release papers. The nurse came in and started to unhook all the monitors and I had to get her dressed in her own clothes! Not borrowed ones. By this time even though the monitors drove me crazy, I had gotten used to looking at the monitors to reasure myself that everything was alright. Now Emily was in my care, and I had nothing telling me that she was ok. No monitors telling me that she was still breathing, that her heart was still beating, that she was warm enough...ect. I.was.terrified. I knew that she was going to have something go wrong. They teach you all these things in the hospital when you have preemie babies and I just knew that I was going to do something wrong and I was going to loose one of my precious babies.
I emotianally lost it that night. They released Emily and Ben had to go home to take care of some things, so I was by myself. As Ben was getting ready to leave, and we were signing the release papers for Emily, I started to cry. I was trying so hard to hold it together but I just couldn't. I cried for all the guilt that I felt, I cried for the fear that I felt, I cried for so many things. Ben was starting to freak out since he had not ever seen me cry. He was feeling really bad, but he had to go. What he was going home for couldnt wait. I cried all night.
This was the night that they had to move me since they were expecting to have a blood drive the next day in the large room that we were occupying. So here I was alone. Having to now be fully responsible for Emily. The nurses could not help me with her since she was released. So I was crying and trying to take care of Emily and Ana and having to get together all my stuff to move rooms at 3am.
I did not sleep at all that night. Which I am pretty sure made my crying worse. The nurses were great, and they were being very kind to me that night :) In fact when Ben came back the next day, it was afternoon, and I still had not fully gotten myself put back together. The nurse stopped him and told him that I had had a really rough night! I dont know how we do it sometimes!
On a normal night the girls ate every 4 hours, but I was pumping every three, so I seriously got about 45 minutes of sleep between each feeding. It was rough! Plus that, we had to check so many things since they were preemies. We had to check their temperature at each feeding, and we had to pretty much force them to eat whatever they had stipulated for that night. This was the hard part. You felt so bad that you were pretty much forcing food down these poor tiny little babies who would not want that last little bit, but you knew that if they didnt eat it, they wouldnt gain weight and then they would not get out of the hospital sooner. I had to call the nurse in quite a few times because I couldnt get one of the babies to drink all that was alloted. Then these girls took forever to burp! You would sit there for sometimes 30 minutes just trying to get them to burp because there was no way you were putting them back to bed to spit up what you had just forced down them! Needless to say, feeding time was an ordeal! I loved these little girls, but it was so hard to only be able to hold them when you were forcing milk down them and trying to get them to burp. There did not seem to be any joy in holding them. Then you had to put them down to sleep so that they could relax and grow!

Mom and Dad came on Saturday to help us with the girls and we had been told that they should be released by then. Emily was actually released on the 7th so she was staying in a little crib by my bed while Ana was still in the isolete. I think the hardest part was the unknown of when we would get out. They would tell us that we should expect to be released on Thursday, then Ana had weight loss. So they changed it to Saturday. Then they changed it to Monday.
So my parents wanted to come once they were released to be able to help us at home. But we didnt know when to expect that. so they came in on Saturday afternoon. Mom stayed with me that night and helped with the girls. Then they wanted to go visit my Uncle who had brain cancer and was not doing so well. So they drove to Vancouver to visit him and his family. Coming back on Sunday night late. We got released Monday afternoon.

They had a under the sea motif and each room had bright colors and little fish mosaics on the walls and floors.
They moved us three times based on the girls need. The first was just temporary until they got the room that they wanted us in ready. The room they had us in first was the main room that they did events and such things like blood drives, but it was right by the nurses station and since they had just upgraded us from the NICU they wanted us close to the nurses station.
They actually had run out of room in the NICU the weekend the girls were born. There were 6 sets of twins, and the baby that got us kicked out was a baby born at 27 weeks who needed the constant nurses care much more than my girls did. So they moved them out of the NICU a little faster than they wanted, but they were full to capacity and my girls were the least critical.

The had a family room which had a kitchen, a big screen tv with a dvd player, a washer and dryer and a play area. in the "reception" area, they had a huge fish tank and tons of waiting areas. They had a pretty big playroom on one end inside the actual wing. They had a "refreshment area" for the "guests" of the hospital with all sorts of things from apple juice to Popsicles. hot chocolate and coffee and bottled water. Also food for little ones.

When we left, they provided us with 4 cases of premixed formula and 4 cases of powdered formula (all the high calorie kind for the girls...which is super expensive)
With the promise that if we sent in a card they would send us another 2 cases. It was quite a while before we had to buy formula especially since I breastfed the girls until they were 10 months old. Most of what we used up to that point had been to supplement my milk with high calorie stuff. (apparently I needed to eat butter and lard, but just couldn't do it, so instead put a teaspoon of high calorie formula in bottles of breast milk)

Needless to say, even though the time I spent in the hospital has been so stressful and I have been distraught many times, the blessings we have had have been so numerous.

My digs. They asked that if you brought your own pillow that you put it in a bright case so they would know not to launder it with the others. And anyone who knows me knows that I have a problem with pillows that are not my own. So I had to bring mine for the hospital stay!

The girls digs. Once Emily was released they actually brought in an isolette for Ana

Chillin under the Bili lights Emily on left Ana on right (notice the A and B above them)

Ana in her Isolette once Emily was released

The car seat test

Emily in her crib. Released to my care. She still could not regulate her own temperature very well, hence all the layers.

Ana having kangaroo time with Ben. Ana just LOVED her Da and anytime he would hold her close like this skin to skin she would settle right down and sleep. Sometimes Ben would sleep too! Seriously how much would this make you love your husband!

Emily in new digs from Grandma and Grandpa Ricks This was a newborn outfit. These girls were so small.

Da holding Ana agian. This shows a little better how extreamly small she was.

Grandma Ricks holding Emily

A picture that shows little Emilys face better

Da changing Ana's diaper. She was so very tiny. Look at those little legs and arms.

Monday, July 4, 2011

NICU to Pediatric Unit

The girls got let out of the NICU after only 2 nights and a day and a half! We got to see the fireworks tonight from the 5th level of the Hospital with a window in our huge room. The girls are both under the Bili lights to prevent jaundice.
I feel so fortunate that we are blessed with healthy girls. So glad to be out of the NICU.
I am sure that every time I see fireworks, I will be reminded of this special day.
To be able to be next to my husband with our girls sleeping just across the room is incredibly special.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

The Story of my Girls Birth

The story of how my girls came into this world.
On Thursday June 30th, I had a regular OB appointment scheduled with one of the doctors in the practice since mine was on Vacation. I went in as normal, got my BP taken, my weight, and gave a urine sample. I did have a shock when I stepped on the scale, as I had gained 10 pounds since my last appointment 2 weeks prior. I had been hovering right around 165 for 5 weeks, and then BAM I stepped on the scale and it said 174. I was taken a bit by surprise.
So after all these little prelims they do at every appointment, I went into the room to wait for the doctor. When the doctor came in, he checked my cervix and said it was still dialated to a 1, and my cervix was very thin. But, he also said that with the 10lb weight gain, and I had protein in my urine sample, he wanted me to do a 24 hour urine test. He wanted me to start it Friday morning, and take it into the hospital lab on Saturday morning, as well as go to Labor and Delivery to have a non-stress test, and my BP taken. He also said to be prepared and take my hospital bag packed. I have had so many docs tell me this in the past 5 weeks that I was thinking ya right, once again.
So I start in with the 24 hour test, and Saturday morning Ben and I head to the hospital to give it to the lab there. (with our hospital bag packed). We drop off the samples in the lab, get some blood drawn, and then head up to labor and delivery to have the NST done. We actually had to wait for a bit in the waiting room because they were so busy in L&D that day.
We finally got into a room, and got hooked up to the monitors and got the test started. Got my blood pressure taken which was elevated higher than it had ever been (I have had very low BP throughout the pregnancy) so it was still under the “high” range, but for my history it was quite high. They kept taking it every 20 minutes or so, and it kept getting higher and higher. A few hours later the nurse came in and said that they wanted us to get an ultrasound to check the growth of the babies. So we headed down to the room to get the ultrasound and asked the tech what the estimated weight of the babies was. She said they were measuring 3.14 and 3.15. When she said this my heart sank. On the last ultrasound which had been weeks earlier they had been 3.2 and 3.8. They had hardly grown any. So we go back upstairs, and get hooked back up to the monitors and wait to see the doctor about the tests results, and the ultrasound.
It got to be about noon, and I was absolutely starving, so I had Ben go ask a nurse if we could get something to eat. She said she would ask the doctor. So a while later she came in and said the doctor said it was ok to go ahead and eat lunch. So Ben went and got some Burger King (since it was right around the corner). About 2 hours after we had eaten lunch the doctor finally came in to talk to us.
He said we had failed the 24 hour test that it had high amounts of protein in it, my blood pressure was quite high for me, and actually getting in the high range for normal BP. That I had pre eclampsia, and the because of this, the babies had stopped growing in my womb. That we needed to get them out today and since they were both breech they were going to have to do a c/section. He then said that he and the nurse had a miscommunication, and that we really should not have eaten lunch but that since we did, I now needed to not eat or drink anything until the surgery which they were planning to be at 7:30pm that day. It was about 3pm. So I went from worrying about why my girls had not grown to knowing the exact time I was going to give birth, and I had 4 hours to mentally prepare myself. Not only for major surgery, but to maybe have babies who were not ready to be born, and would need support to breathe, and eat, and just be alive. I was terrified. I could not believe that my body would fail my little babies in such a way. Not to mention the risks that not giving birth posed for me.
I knew I needed to have the babies that day, for their health and mine. My body could no longer provide them with the safe haven they needed. I do not believe I have ever felt fear quite so acute before in my life. Fear for my life, and fear for the two little girls I had tried so hard to keep growing inside me over the past 5 weeks. And fear for how developed and small my girls would be. Fear of how long they would need to be in the NICU.
Ben called a few people, and I emailed my family letting them know that we were going to have the babies later that evening. Some of our good friends from our church came right away to the hospital and prayed with us that everything would go smoothly, and just stayed and gave us support for a little while.
Then all the preparations started. I got prepped for surgery, Ben got his scrubs, and we got all the information on risks, and what would be happening during the surgery. That there would be 3 people in the room for each baby, and 3 in the room for me. The anesthesiologist came in and told me what he would be doing to give me the spinal block, and then the nurse came in to get me all ready. Then off to the small metal room we went. Ben had to stay outside of the OR for a few minutes while they got me ready for surgery and got the spinal block in place, and got me laid down. This period of time was very odd for me as I was being handled by many nurses and doctors being told what to expect, and exactly what to do. They got me all ready and called Ben in to join us. Then the surgery began. The anesthesiologist was right there by my head letting me know everything that was going on, and a few minutes later my first little girl joined us. I heard her cry and felt my heart swell. Ben took a picture and then I looked at him as I saw the pride and love for that little girl completely take over his face. My love for him at that moment was overwhelming. Then I heard the doctors say that the next little girl was coming. Then one of the doctors said “oh..she is really small”. My heart dropped. Also at that moment when he pulled her out, I took first deep breath of air in months. Ben was walking back and forth between the babies and checking on me, all I could see at that point was the proud father and how proud he was of his girls. Being as I was closed off to seeing anything since I was laying down with a drape up, the anesthesiologist told me that if I moved the drape just a bit I could see one of my girls. It was Emily that I could see, and my heart sank again because the nurse kept having to get her to wake up to breathe. And then give her the little baby breathing pumper to get her to breathe. All I knew was that the baby I could see was not breathing well, and the other one was very small. It was all
I could do to not completely freak out.
Then the nurses came over to me with my girls all swaddled and let me see them before they whisked them away to the NICU. Ben left with the girls, and I was sewn up and transported to the recovery room. This is where I remember very little. I remember that the nurses were pushing on my uterus, and kneading it because I was hemorrhaging, and asking someone to go order blood in case I needed a transfusion. They continued to do this for a while, then were satisfied that they had gotten it stopped and let me be. They came in and checked on me it seemed like every 10 minutes. Ben ordered some dinner, and I asked if I could eat anything. They said that I could but to keep it light. So I ordered some jello, and cottage cheese and fruit. I ate a little bit of all of it, and then needed to go to sleep. So I lay down to sleep and started shaking uncontrollably. The nurse kept trying to get my BP, but could not because I was shaking so badly. Then I started to itch. The nurse asked if I wanted anything to stop the itching, and I told her no.. As I knew I wanted to breastfeed my babies as soon as I could. Then a little bit later, I woke up and knew I was going to throw up. I woke Ben up and told him he needed to get one of those little vomit bags by the door RIGHT NOW. He jumped up, and gave it to me, and everything I had eaten a little bit before all came up. I knew the nurses probably wanted to make sure it was just food, so I told him to hit the nurses’ button. She came in and asked if I wanted something for the nausea. And I said no, but that I would take something for the itching…it was unbearable. Then she came in later after that started working, and I asked if there was something to help with the shaking. She said there was, so she gave me that too. Then I was able to sleep some. They still kept coming in and asking if I could move my toes. Each time I could move a little further down my leg. Then finally at 3am, I could move my toes. They asked if I wanted to go see my babies, and I said yes please. They told me that I needed to be able to get up out of bed and walk to the wheel chair or I could not see them. I said ok…so I got up slowly, and walked to the wheelchair. Ben had put in some earplugs so he could sleep with all the nurses’ distractions, and had not woken up during this. They asked if I was ready to go, and I told them to please wake up my husband. I would like him to be there the first time I get to really see my girls. So they woke him up, and he and I went down to the NICU to see Ana and Emily. When I got in there, the girls were all the way on opposite sides of the room. I went to see Emily first, and she was no longer on oxygen and was so darling. I was in love. I did feel so terrible seeing wires and IV’s all over the place, and once again felt the overwhelming sense of failure that I could not have kept her in my womb so she did not have to have all the mess she was in now. I then went and saw Ana, and she was so very small and she also had all the wires and IV as well. Seeing her once again sparked my guilt again. I was having so many feelings it was all a bit overwhelming. Overwhelming love, and fear for my babies along with the guilt.
Then I went back to my room, and continued to visit the girls every 3 hours to be able to try to nurse. Then I found out that they were going to let the girls out of the NICU and move them up into a private room in Pediatrics. They also discharged me early so I could go up and be with the girls.