Tuesday, April 12, 2016
31w4d
1:00 PM
Everyone seemed really optimistic about keeping me pregnant. I was given steroid shots to help speed lung development for the boys. I would be given more shots the next day, they said.
I wasn't even really too worried. I was more upset that I would be spending so much time in a room without a window, and I was pretty concerned about how I was going to take a shower. I was even excited about getting something to eat, which was really odd for me because I had had one of those pregnancies where the nausea and vomiting never went away, and it had been days since I had even wanted any food at all.
They had me all strapped up to monitors to track my contractions and to monitor the babies' heartbeats. I didn't even feel my contractions. It just felt like my normal back pain that I had been having. I wasn't too worried. A nurse got me a menu and I ordered a pizza and a chocolate chip cookie. The pizza was delicious and the chocolate chip cookie was PURE comfort food. So good.
I would eat one of those everyday in the weeks to follow. The pizza never tasted good to me again. I'm not really sure why I thought it was so amazing that day. I guess I hadn't really had a good meal since before I was pregnant.
The ultrasound tech wheeled all of his stuff in and he took pictures of the babies while I ate. We talked with him and joked with him. He was a funny guy. Our boys were doing funny things. They were sitting in such a position that Baby A was being tea-bagged by Baby B.
We found out then that it was my sweet Baby A who had broken his water (perhaps tired of being tea-bagged by little brother?). My heart was with him. He failed his physiological tests, but only by a bit. He seemed to be holding strong. My husband and I prayed for him and for Baby B.
5:00 PM
My contractions had not subsided on their own. The nurse explained that they would be giving me magnesium sulfate. It was going to stop the contractions.
She explained that I wouldn't be able to eat or drink anything until my contractions stopped. She said that the magnesium would help the boys' brains and that it would make me feel a little like I had a bad case of the flu. On her advice I downed a small glass of water, but nothing could have prepared me for what a "bad case of the flu" would feel like.
7:00 PM
I had my husband cranking down the AC to below 60. I was a literal hot mess. The magnesium made me SO hot. My mouth felt dryer than cotton. My lips were instantly cracked and everything was awful.
I actually have a lot of memories to work through from this time because I hallucinated A LOT. Now when I look back I have to sift through everything that I think happened and determine what actually happened.
I remember begging the nurses for water. One was sympathetic enough to give me half a cup of ice chips. I would have downed them all at once if Brian hadn't been there to parcel them out for me. I tried to hold the water in my dry mouth as long as possible, but my throat begged to be quenched as well. I would swallow with both relief and regret.
Through the pain of my contractions, I remember arching my back as much as I could and desperately wishing I could stand and bend over to take the pressure off of my back a little. I had practiced positions and methods to help this in birth class, and I couldn't use a single one. I just had to lay there. Instead of subsiding, my contractions were getting stronger and closer. They gave me more magnesium.
10:00 PM
They gave me some Ambien to give me some rest. I remember Brian putting on Jane the Virgin for me, and I remember him asking for extra blankets because our room hovering just above 50 degrees.
Wednesday, April 13, 2016
31w5d
2:00 AM
The Ambien wore off. I was awake and scared. Brian was asleep in the too-small recliner next to my bed. I asked for water. They told me no. They said my contractions were still regular and strong. They gave me more magnesium. I laid there crying. Just me and my two boys.
4:00 AM
Brian woke up. He was trying to talk me through my contractions. He kept his eyes on the machine and would watch as they would peak. He says that sometimes he told me they were small when they were big. I remember screaming for all of them. I asked if I could stand. They told me no.
Over the next few hours I remember very little of anything. I think my pastor came to pray with and for me, but that might have happened the day before or just in my head. I know my mom came in at some point. I apparently sent Brian out to bring me tissues (the good kind with the lotion).
All I remember for certain is the pain and the thirst and the panic.
My contractions kept coming: stronger and closer together. I cried because this wasn't supposed to be happening.
I was told a vaginal birth would be impossible. Any ghost of my birth plan went flying out the door.
11:10 AM
They stopped the magnesium. My labor wasn't stopping. My doctor came in and measured to see how much I was dilated.
I was over 5 cm.
She said she could feel my baby.
Everything started happening so fast. They had to perform a c-section right away.
I started bawling. Brian was still out getting me tissues. I cried to my mom about how I wasn't ready. They walked me to a stretcher. I cried and cried. My mom cried. I wasn't ready. I was in pain and scared for my boys and, I'm ashamed to admit, for myself.
I remember my doctor telling me to tell her when she got to a place that I could feel things again. I was terrified of being cut open, but I could feel no pain. I felt every move she made, but it felt like tugging. No pain. Just movement.
I don't remember when Brian finally made it into the room, but he did.
I never got to see Bennett. Beau was wheeled by me and the nurse paused long enough for me to look at him. Our eyes locked for just a second. I wasn't able to even reach for him. I remember Brian leaving with the boys.
I was left alone with just one nurse. No babies. No husband. No parents. Just me.
I wasn't really there enough in my own head to care at this point. The night of magnesium and the epidural had made me numb and stupid.
I had to wait there until I got feeling back in my legs. It all came back very slowly.
I don't remember being taken up to the postpartum wing, but I got there. I remember a nurse explaining how to use the hospital breast pump. She gave us syringes to collect colostrum to take to the NICU. I still hadn't seen my babies.
They gave me crackers. I wanted water. They said they needed to see me keep down a cracker first.
I said I wanted water. They said I would vomit.
I ate a cracker. They gave me my water.
I vomited.
Everyone was in my room talking about how cute and sweet and okay my sons were.
Everyone met them before I did. I was devastated and jealous. I wanted to see them. They wouldn't let me until I did x amount of things. I had to pee. I had to drink. I had to eat crackers. None of it made sense to me.
Finally, late that night, a nurses aid wheeled me down to the NICU two floors away.I made it to where the boys were and promptly threw up.
I only got a glimpse of the tiny beings before they wheeled me away again. They were trapped behind glass and heavy with wires and tubes. My heart shattered there on the NICU floor.
They took me back upstairs.
Brian went to sleep and I laid awake crying.
I felt so empty and so alone and so much like a failure. I was a mom technically, but in my mind, not really.
Sunday, April 17, 2016
B&B 4 days old.
The day I was discharged, I sat alone in the hospital lobby as Brian went for the car. I watched moms being wheeled out with their babies. I sat alone crying.
I sat there alone in my nursing top, yoga pants, and my empty arms and stomach. And both my sons laid upstairs fighting to breathe.
I have never in my life felt so terrible.
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