*UPDATE 8/31: Long road ahead but both my babies are home!!*

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*UPDATE 8/14: In the comments!*

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My whole pregnancy was a whirlwind. I got a positive home pregnancy test on December 30th, 2018 and since I knew my mom would suspect something if I wasn’t drinking on NYE, I went immediately to have it confirmed at the OB office. Unfortunately, my regular OB was closed, so I went to a new one I found on Zocdoc. The appointment did not go as planned. The doctor told me that my pregnancy wasn’t regular and that I would miscarry. She said I may want to take the up front step of just scheduling a D&C because if my body didn’t miscarry on it’s own, I could become very ill. I was heartbroken and went home with my husband confused about all the pregnancy symptoms I had already developed (fatigue, nausea/vomiting, sensitivity to smell, etc). I called my regular OB the next day and they told me to come in for a sonogram in 2 weeks so they could give a second opinion before I did anything else. So I did, and the doctor gave us news we were not expecting... not only was I pregnant, I was having twins!

I went through the majority of my pregnancy battling hyperemesis and had to see a MFM regularly due to my twins having a size discordance. Eventually my visits were three times a week for various checks and scans to ensure that twin A was growing and okay. Twin B was always 100% looking healthy and fine, but Twin A was giving us some trouble growing.

On Tuesday July 30, I woke up and got ready to go in for my 35 week check up. I was 35 and 0- when the doctor checked me, baby A had dropped to the 3rd percentile for size, was IUGR, and had no fluid. I was sent straight to labor&delivery.

Because both my twins had been head down for several weeks, and my first pregnancy ended in an induction with only a 6 hour labor and 2 push delivery, the doctor said I should try for a vaginal delivery. When I got to the hospital, they gave me an epidural and began pitocin. I was already 3-4cms dilated.

After 2 hours, with an epidural that only worked straight down the right side of my body, they broke my water. I was at 5cms. After 2 more hours of painful contractions, I was ready to push. I was given more epidural because I had told them I could feel everything on my left side. Then they wheeled me into the operating room. Hospital policy mandated that twins be delivered in the OR in case of emergency. My doctors told me no matter what, my husband and my mom could stay in the room with me.

When they wheeled me into the OR, there was a delivery team there for me and a team for each baby. There were about 20-30 people in the room. It was overwhelming. They asked me to transfer to the operating table, a near impossibility now that my bottom half was mostly numb. After what seemed like awhile of setting up, they put up the stirrups and told me to tuck my head in, grab my thighs, crunch up and push as hard as I could on my OBs cue. I got in position and when he told me to push, I did as hard as I could. My daughter, the twin we were worried about, came flying out screaming crying. 3lbs 10ozs. Born 7/30/19 at 7:18pm. APGAR score of 9.

They put her on my chest briefly and then whisked her away. My doctor told me to prepare to push out baby number 2, so I got into position and when he said to push I did. But my son did not come flying out. For the next 20 minutes, my doctor and 2 hospital residents spent time taking turns trying to simultaneously perform an internal and external version. For those of you fortunate enough to have never had this experience, nothing in the world can describe the pain involved. The doctors took turns pushing as hard as the could on my stomach while another doctor was forearms deep in my uterus trying to simultaneously pull and push baby 2 down towards the exit. The chaos in the room was undeniable. Throughout the process i was screamed at to push, to stop pushing, to half push, to push harder, or my favorite “to relax my uterus” ( the one with 3 doctors forearms-deep in it up my vagina!!) ... I clutched at my husband’s hand for dear life trying not to pass out from the pain, following every instruction the best I could. The doctors were all yelling at each other, at one point one of them got ahold of my baby’s foot and tried yanking him down by that, and finally one doctor yelled that the placenta had abrupted.

After 20 minutes of this pain and chaos, they converted to an emergency caesarean. They ushered my husband and mom out of the room to “set up” and never let them back in. They wouldn’t even let them near the window. Meanwhile everyone was screaming. Somewhere in the room a tray of utensils dropped to the floor, followed by another that hit my foot. I looked up at the anesthesiologist and said “I could feel that. I could feel that hit my foot. I’m not numb.” They started cutting, my anesthesiologist pushed more anesthesia. I am deathly afraid of surgery so I looked at the clock and tried to stay calm watching the seconds tick. I heard, “He’s out” at 7:45pm. But I did not hear a cry. My son was born. 5lbs 8ozs. 7/30/19 7:45pm. APGAR score of 1.

I lay there cut open sobbing and asking on repeat, “is he breathing, what’s wrong with my baby, why isn’t he breathing, someone tell me what’s wrong with my baby...” over and over and over. There was commotion at the baby’s table that I could not see. I heard “GET HIM INTUBATED,” “GET THE TUBE IN,” “I CANT GET IT IN!” I sobbed harder and begged louder. “Why isn’t he breathing?! Is he alive?! What’s wrong with my baby!!” No one answered me. I hear “I CANT GET IT ! SOMEONE RUN AND CALL THE ELEVATOR WE CANT AFFORD TO WAIT!” And with that they all left the room. I was sobbing still asking about my baby but still no one would answer me.

The anesthesiologists above my head were arguing about whether to put me under. I didn’t want to be put under, I wanted to know what was wrong with my baby. I knew I had to calm down. I stared at the ceiling and silenced myself, tears still pouring. I clasped my hands and whispered over and over. “Please God let my baby be okay, please God let my baby be okay, please God let my baby be okay...”

They finished sewing me up. And the nurses were left to clean me. They noticed I had 2 tears and debated about whether I needed stitches. But the doctor was gone and whoever they asked decided I was fine.

By the time they wheeled me to recovery, my mom was there. I still didn’t know if my baby was alive or not. It had been so long, over an hour since my son’s birth. My mom told me that they had gotten him intubated but both babies were in the NICU. The nurse told me I couldn’t see them.

To move to my postpartum room the nurse said I had to flex and point my feet, and I sat there just willing my body to stop shaking and to point my damn feet. I finally got wheeled to my room and switched beds. I felt like death but I managed to switch beds by myself, I was determined to show my nurse I could handle getting into a wheelchair to see my babies. They still didn’t let me. I finally got to go to the NICU to see my babies around 2:30am- 7 hours after delivery.

I saw my daughter, tiny and perfect, in her little incubator, hooked up to a heart and oxygen monitor because of her size but otherwise doing well. She had an IV in but I could hold her and she was so tiny in my arms. At about 3 I got to see my son. There were so many cords and monitors and machines. I couldn’t hold him- I wasn’t allowed. My poor baby lay there helpless. The NICU doctors said that the delivery doctors had compressed his cord during delivery. No one knows how long he was without oxygen but he came out purple. The extent of the damage unknown.

Now tomorrow they will be two weeks old and are both still in the NICU. My daughter is set to be discharged on Wednesday. My son is still on respiratory support, with a hole in his heart, and possible seizures and brain damage - we can’t know for sure until he can have an MRI, which he can’t have until he is off nitric oxide.

Tomorrow they will be two weeks old and the prognosis is still unclear. Tomorrow they will be two weeks old and still not home. Tomorrow they will be two weeks old and I still haven’t fed my son. Tomorrow they will be two weeks old and they will still not have met their older sister.

I’m praying they will both be home soon. I’m praying my son will get off respiratory support. I’m praying the hole in his heart will close. I’m praying he is not epileptic. I’m praying he doesn’t have brain damage. I’m praying and praying and praying. I won’t stop.

If you read all this - and you can also pray - I appreciate you more than you know.

Meet Story and Titan. I’m

My first time holding my son. He was 8 days old.