Thursday, April 26, 2012
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| Aiden and Ryan today! |
It all started on April 30th,
2011, when I POAS and saw that magic word “Pregnant”. I had been so used to seeing “Not Pregnant”
that my heart literally jumped out of my throat. We had been trying for nine months, ever
since our trip to Europe in August 2009 where we visited Ireland, England,
Poland and Italy. I remember running
down to the basement where DH was cooking (we had construction going on at the
time so we were using the basement kitchen).
I showed him the pregnancy test and started crying immediately. We embraced and stood there hugging for what
seemed like an eternity. I was supposed
to run a half marathon the next morning with my sister, but opted out of it. I knew I was only 4 weeks along so I didn’t
want to risk anything happening to this tiny being growing inside of me.
The next two weeks went by without
a hitch. I had an u/s scheduled for my
ninth week to date the pregnancy and meet my new OB. At 6 weeks I experienced some bleeding. We went in for an early u/s expecting to be
told that I miscarried. When my OB
started the u/s he told me to relax and that it was likely that nothing was
wrong. The next words that came out of
his mouth would change our lives forever.
He said, “Do you have a good heart?”
I said “yea, why?” He said,
“Well, you’re having twins!” I never
laughed and cried so hard in my entire life.
I immediately bought Dr. Luke’s
book about carrying multiples. I spent
the next few days reading through the chapters and getting myself anxious. I read all about PTL and other complications
that are common with twin pregnancies.
At one point, DH told me to put the book down and stop making myself
crazy. So I put the book down and never
turned back. I spent the next few months
taking it pretty easy. I did a lot of
lying down after work but I also did my fair share of tidying up after the
construction going on in our house. And
I was seeing my OB every three weeks.
On September 12 I was put on bed
rest due to a shortening cervix. I went
to the hospital with DH for a routine growth scan and a cervical check. When they measured my cervix it was at
1.2cm. The cutoff for bed rest is
3cm. I was monitored for contractions (I
wasn’t having any) and my OB was called to come a check on me. She checked my cervix again and gave me the
bed rest talk. I cried. But mostly because I was nervous about not
being able to work, and how we would afford our mortgage for the next 4 months,
not because I was nervous about carrying to full term. I convinced myself that I would be in bed
until I was 38 weeks.
Exactly one week later we went in
for another cervix check, and much to my surprise my cervix was no longer
measurable. The technician who measured
it didn’t say anything at first. She
simply put the wand down and left the room.
I knew something was really wrong.
She came back with the doctor, who checked me again, and they
immediately told me I was being admitted to L&D. While I was waiting for a bed, I heard them
say I had a bulging bag. I never heard
this term before, but I knew what it meant.
I was admitted to triage and hooked
up to a mag drip and IV antibiotics and three monitors – one for each baby and
one for me. I spent the next 24 hours
there not able to eat or drink anything for fear that they would have to
perform an emergency C-section. I was
contracting the whole time, every minute or two, but I didn’t feel the
contractions. A neonatologist came to my
bedside and explained to me and my husband all the complications our children
were faced if they were born now, in a week, in two weeks, etc. I felt like I was living a dream.
The next day I was moved to
antepartum because I was no longer contracting.
DH went home and brought me my laptop, some magazines and books, a
hairbrush, my toothbrush and anything else he thought I needed. We were ready to live in the hospital for the
next 3.5 months. I wasn’t allowed to get
up to go to the bathroom and the doctors were no longer checking my cervix for
fear of breaking my water. I was told to
inform my nurse of any contractions, bleeding or discharge. DH stayed with me every night and went to
work in the morning. Five days later, I
convinced him to go home and sleep in our bed.
He needed it. He didn’t have work
the next day so he would be able to sleep in.
He went home and I played on my computer. I stumbled upon the Preemie page on TB and
opened a post where everyone wrote about how their LO’s are doing now. It gave me so much hope. I grew tired and went to sleep.
At 4:30am I awoke to some
bleeding. I immediately called my nurse
who came with the resident on call. She
checked me with a speculum, and immediately told me there is too much blood and
she has to take me to L&D. I asked
her if I should call my husband. She
said yes. When they moved me onto a
stretcher, I looked over at my bed and saw the blood. I said “Oh fuck!” when I saw how much there
was. As they wheeled me to L&D, I
remember feeling very calm but a million thoughts were racing through my
head. I have no clue what they
were. The Drs performed an u/s to see
the babies’ postioning, and the whole time I felt this urge to pee. I knew it had to be the pressure of the
babies on my cervix.
I was moved to the OR and I
remember it being so cold. The
anesthesiologist was so nice, he kept telling me not to worry, that they will
take care of me. As they prepped me for
surgery I made my mind slow down because I wanted to remember everything. I felt like I was in a movie. All I saw were these faces with masks
on. I couldn’t even recognize my own OB,
they had to point him out. I later found
out that he made it to the hospital in 12 minutes. Seconds before they put me under (there was
no time for an epidural so they have to knock me out), I was told my husband
had made it to the hospital. I was so happy.
I woke up in recovery and
immediately started crying. It was Sept.
25, 2011, and I just kept repeating to myself that today was my children’s
birthday. And instead of it being the
happiest day of my life, it was the saddest.
DH told me the boys were ok, he hadn’t seen them yet but they were
alive. Then the recovery nurse asked us
what their names were. We always had the
name Aiden picked out for Baby A, but Baby B was a tough one. We narrowed it down to Paul and Ryan, so I
let DH pick. He picked Ryan.
At some point DH left, maybe to eat
or see the boys, I’m not sure, but my dad stayed with me. I cried the entire time and he just held my
hand. I will never forget it. I later found out that the bleeding was
caused by a placental abruption, and that Aiden’s feet were hanging out of me
by the time I was put on the operating table.
From the time I called my nurse, to the time the boys were born, only 45
minutes has passed.
In many ways this isn’t a birth
story at all, because I wasn’t awake for any part of the boys’ birth. I often think about why this happened to us,
and I try to understand the very difficult decision God made to put us in this
situation. My simple answer is
this: God put me in the hospital to save
Aiden. If I was at home when the
bleeding started, we never would have gotten to the hospital in time, and we
would’ve lost him, and possibly Ryan. I
thank God every day for making this decision for us.
 |
| Aiden, 3 weeks old |
 |
| Ryan, 3 weeks old |
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