The Joys of Twins

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The Birth Story

It seems appropriate to post the twin’s birth story at their one year birthday. So here it is:

I asked my OB repeatedly, when should my mother arrive to ensure that she’d be here for the birth. She was very solid about early December because twins come early. But as we’d noticed throughout the pregnancy, my twins never got any of “the memos”. They didn’t know twin pregnancies are high risk so we didn’t have any issues. They didn’t know twins came early, so they settled in to wait out the usual 40 weeks or so. So even though my mother paid extra money to change her airline ticket and be here on the 2nd, we still checked into Seton central at 7 pm on December 11th to start an induction at 38 weeks.

During the week before we walked the malls, I had a friend come over and try labor inducing massage techniques, you name it..but with no success. I wasn’t too thrilled by the idea of an induction…sitting in a hospital room bored and hooked up to iv’s and monitors *shudder*. But that’s exactly how it went down. While not in distress, my body had begun to show some stress with an elevating blood pressure and horrible water retention. I felt like a blueberry and have the pictures to prove it. Our good friend and neighbor had a good laugh pushing quarters into me feet and seeing a perfect indention last for about 10 minutes. And I was mentally ready to meet these two little men (or so I thought).

Brad and I checked me into the hospital Monday night where they started the induction with hormones administered via direct contact with the cervix. Because I wasn’t dilated at all yet this is the usual course. Poor Brad slept on the horrible fold out couch (they aren’t the same in hospitals) while I took a sleeping pill and slept pretty well. I wasn’t allowed to eat anything after dinner that night so despite being hungry Tuesday morning, I was only allowed ice chips. I don’t remember the exact times but it was around 5 – 6 AM when my doctor arrived and found me not even dilated yet so they went ahead and began the Pitocin drip via IV. I was excited and anxious, hopeful that labor would come and I’d give birth that day. Friends and family began to arrive and drop or to call but I had no news. They kept upping the Pitocin dosage and at some point my doctor went ahead and broke Logan’s amniotic bag. But still no change in my dilation and I hardly felt any cramping. Occasionally the nurses would rush in and ask “did that hurt?” because they thought they saw large contractions on the monitor but I had felt nothing. In the mid afternoon I started walking around the room, bouncing on the birthing ball, and otherwise trying to help things along. I felt warm and the Pitocin made me feel all lovey dovey and happy, but still no progress to the labor. I was so hungry and even cheated with some Italian Ice brought by Princess Alissa, but still no food was allowed. More friends came and I felt very uncomfortable. I had always imagined being surrounded by my friends in labor to help me and couch me along. But this was boring. I was sitting almost naked in a bed, hooked to a million wires, bleeding when I stood up, bloated beyond recognition from the fluids they had to give me along with the Pitocin. I felt like I was supposed to be entertaining all these people as they just sat around the room and watched me. Waiting for something to happen.

By the time the doctor came back in the evening, roughly around 6 PM, I was exhausted. Mentally, physically (no food), and emotionally. Disappointment was setting in after 24 hours of nothing. I was still less then 1 cm dilated and nothing seemed to be working. As the doc walked into the room, I was crying as I talked to my mom about being tired and wanting things to move forward. The doc caught sight of the tears and asked if it was contractions. I told her no, I still hadn’t felt anything yet. The nurses all seemed convinced that I was having strong contractions throughout the day but have a high threshold for pain. Perhaps that is true since I get horrible menstrual cramps, and compared to those this was nothing. They kept asking if I needed an epidural and I kept saying, “no way”. I told the doctor that I was just tired. She started telling me my options, to either go another night in the hospital and try more Pitocin again in the morning (I’d reached the limit for that day) or a c-section. She looked into my eyes and saw my exhaustion and read my mind, and then said something along the lines of “I think it’s time to go get those babies, let’s prep for a c-section.” And suddenly I was happy again.

It’s the strangest thing to see those pictures, just moments after the decision for major surgery is made, I’m joyful and excited. Who would have thought? I, the woman who had read about the c-section in preparation and had cried. I wasn’t sure why I was crying and neither was poor Brad as he watched me go through it. But halfway through the pregnancy I was researching all the possibilities and for some reason that one scared me and brought up tears. But in the moment, I wasn’t scared. I wanted my babies. I wanted this over and the transition complete. I never was good at being in limbo and this was the perfect example of limbo. I had no control, no idea of the outcome. But now a decision had been made and things could move forward again with someone in control, someone that I trusted, my doctor.

It all happened very quickly as friends were ushered out of the room and my mother and I were prepped for the surgery room. I had asked my mom to go in with me months ago. If it was going to be a vaginal delivery, Brad was going to go, but for surgery I wanted mom. She had been a labor and delivery nurse in her 20s and knew what to expect. My doctor was very respectful of her and her previous experience. There was still some confusion at this point among the hospital staff and my doctor about who was the father and what was up with these two guys who shared responsibility for helping me. So we gave the doctor a quick run down and she brushed aside our comments about it being confusing to explain with examples from her own friends and being a doctor that were equally or more confusing. Even the nurse laughed off our concerns saying they see it all there.

I should mention here that I’d had three nurses up to this point and all had been angels. I will go back to Seton for anything and everything because of the exceptional nursing staff. Throughout the labor, the postpartum stay and even my emergency return, they were kind, considerate, helpful and overall made the whole experience wonderful.

I was wheeled into the surgery area in a bed where there was a scurry of work as various nurses were busy setting up equipment in a room that was much smaller then I had imagined it would be. I had always pictured operating rooms to be large with lots of room to move around, but this one seemed small to me. My very kind nurse let me rest my head on her chest while the anesthesiologist gave me the spinal. It was so effective that by the time it was done and time for me to lay down on the bed, I needed help because I couldn’t feel my legs. I remember being aware of how odd it was to be in an environment where nudity is such a none issue. I mean here I was laying totally naked in front of this group of women and one man (the anesthesiologist) who was actually shortly replaced by a woman because his shift was ending or something. Finally my mother was allowed in and she sat to my right. Another thing that struck me was how close the dividing drape was to my face. I had thought this would be further down but it was right there, just below my chin. Part of me wanted to be able to see what was going on but at the same time, I knew this was for the best. I felt panic setting in, I felt like it was all happening too fast and I wanted to say out loud, “please, can I have a minute to catch my breath?” But I didn’t – so the feelings of nausea continued to grow and rise up my body. The doctor had come in and they were starting the surgery at this point. I remember the nausea got so bad that I had to say something so they gave me oxygen, saying that it’s a side effect of the medicines they’d given me. My mom was holding my strapped down hand, I think. I don’t remember exactly but I do know that she was touching me. I think I remember her touching my hair in that calming way moms do. As the doctor was going in, I started to dry heave. It was awful. This is why I wasn’t allowed anything to eat in those 25 hours, because despite feeling so very sick, nothing came up. I just retched over and over again and thought it was hysterical that they put one of those little trays next to my mouth. As if I needed it?

The sick feelings remained but were lessoned as my doctor started to announce the birth of the boys. She said something about how they were definitely not identical twins. She pulled Logan out at 8 PM on the dot and held him up over the curtain for me to see. Then Forest arrived a minute later and I got a quick glimpse of him as well. They were crying and I was in those brief moments in my own world. Time slowed down, the feelings of sickness vanished, all I heard were those voices and kept thinking “those are my babies! they just came out of me!” Despite being so totally numb, I had felt the weight of them leaving my body as each was lifted out of the womb. Then, all wrapped and bundled up, they were brought to me one at a time to meet. I could already feel the sense of relaxation that comes after the anticipation of something big settling inside of me.

It took longer to sew me back up then to get the boys out. She took a great deal of time cleaning out the uterus to make sure that I wouldn’t have bleeding issues later. My mom noted their very thorough process of counting each used instrument to make sure nothing was left behind. At this point there seemed to only be a few women in the room: the anesthesiologist, a couple nurses, my doctor, and my mom. Somehow (I kind of remember but not exactly the course of conversation) talk turned to soldiers who had been hurt in the Iraqi war and my doctor made a point to say something along the lines “Let’s pray that these boys never see/or go to war.” All the women in the room agreed. And even to this day I still feel the power of that blessing as I feel tears moving down my cheeks. Because that’s what it was. It was the blessing of the grandmother, the mother, the doctor and all of those who had brought these lives into this world that night, December 12, 2006. What a beautiful blessing to give them.

Next I was wheeled out of the O.R. and into a postpartum area. I think Brad went with me and Dusty met us there with the babies. With both daddies beside me, I tandem nursed the babies for the first time. Another moment that I remember with great affection.

The babies and daddies then left so that I could get a thorough cleaning up and dressed in nice clean robes and blankets. I was starting to get some sense of feeling back at this point but the morphine he’d put in the spinal for after was kicking in and life was good. I was then wheeled (still in a bed) to the room where I would spend the next 3 days of life, the first 3 days of theirs. We had a huge group of friends there to meet the boys. The nurses made jokes about being intimidated by the crowd as everyone shuffled against the wall and tried to find a spot. Logan and Forest were finally brought in and the huge group of friends who had been watching them through windows finally got their turns to hold them. It was around midnight when everyone left and Brad and I got the longest stretch of sleep we’d get for the next 4 months, a whopping 4 hours.

Those three days in the hospital were an alternate reality, a cocoon of motherhood for me. The food was ok but I was so famished from my increased metabolism from breastfeeding, that I would eat every single bite and still want more. The breastfeeding made me high and sleepy all at the same time, it was addictive. I wasn’t sleeping well so that I had bad sleep deprivation. Every time I’d try to go to sleep, I’d immediately fall into a dream state and have nightmares about people hurting me or the babies. One day this resulted in a breakdown and it took my mother and Brad’s kind hands to help me through to a good rest. Another strong memory that I have is of my mother bending over me and running her hand across my hair while saying kind things about her love for me. I will never forget that moment and I’m so grateful for it. On the second day in the hospital I realized how long I’d been in that room as mom and I took a walk around the floor to get me up and moving. It was weird to see that life was going on at it’s normal pace when I was so focused on my intent of these two babies.

I don’t remember the c-section being that painful of a recovery. I know that it hurt to start the moving around process but it wasn’t awful. If memory serves, the hospital bed was much worse. I had pillows under my butt, all down my back, along my sides, under my legs, anything to give more cushion. And then I got a horrible rash that covered my entire butt, caused by the weird disposable underwear like garments that the hospital provide (because of all the postpartum bleeding). My skin is super sensitive to man made fabrics, so I pretty much had something like a diaper rash. The rash on my butt was on top of the remaining PUPPP still covering my stomach and still itching. I had offers of good pain medication to help in the healing process but I quickly learned that I didn’t like feeding the babies on the full dosage offered (made me too loopy) and that vicodin makes me very sick if taken on an empty stomach. I was never alone as nurses and doctors would come and go at all hours. My OB and the Pediatricians would arrive at 6 – 7 AM and the nurses in this ward didn’t blink to come in and take temperatures and blood pressure while I was breastfeeding. I got my best blood pressure readings while breastfeeding, but of course.

Forest had a little bit of jaundice the first few days but otherwise they were very healthy. They were good and immediately went to feeding every 3 hours. At one point there was concern about Forest not gaining enough weight so we supplemented with formula but he was thriving by the time we went home so it was only for a short while. I had visits from lactation consultants, including one with twin girls so I was building confidence about breast feeding.

There are lots of other random tidbits about the experience in the hospital but the main thing is that it was a good experience and the nurses were all WONDERFUL at Seton. But I’ve already touched on that.

I can’t tell the story without moving forward a week and telling about the day I had to check back into the hospital via the ER. Life was so crazy back then that I’ve recently realized that some of my closest friends didn’t even know the story until almost a year later!

We were getting settled into a bit of a routine with my parents here to help out. I was feeling great and my energy was starting to pick up as a felt comfortable doing light loads of laundry and loading/unloading the dishwasher. All the things they tell you not to do for two weeks after a cesarean. So it had been a week, a Sunday night I think, and I could tell that my bleeding had increased. There is A LOT of bleeding after a pregnancy that lasts for many weeks. I noticed that the bleeding was increasing just about dinner time so I went and layed down like they tell us to. Brad decided to take a nap with me and my parents watched the boys. About an hour later I woke up and realized that I had bled through my clothes, the duvet cover and our feather comforter. I was scared because they say that if you bleed through a heavy feminine pad in an hour you need to call. I called my OB office’s on-call and the nurse called me back. It was funny because she had to clarify that it really was an emergency by making sure that I wasn’t just wearing a panty liner. Obviously that had happened before. I explained again in detail and she said that yes, I should head back to Seton and check into the ER. It was night time, maybe around 9 PM? I can’t say for sure. Brad took me in and the boys stayed with Mom and Dad. Once again, the nurses at Seton were wonderful. The doctor took a look at me and it was determined that I wasn’t hemorrhaging (big relief) but that maybe it was a large clot passing. You see, scabs develop on the inside of the body where the surgical incisions were made and if they fall off, then bleeding occurs. And since this part of the body tends to be more “watery”, it can make it appear like even more blood. They gave me a shot to help stop the bleeding. The worst part was when I had to get an ultrasound. Mind you, the ultrasound wasn’t a big deal but to help get a good enough picture she put in a catheter and filled up my bladder. I didn’t have to feel the catheter during the cesarean because I was already on the spinal when they put it in and on good drugs after, so this was very uncomfortable.

They checked me in for the night to keep an eye on the bleeding and give my doctor a chance to see me first thing in the morning. It was some time around 1 – 2 AM by the time I got into the room. The Labor and Delivery ward was full so I was put in the oncology (cancer) ward which was right around the corner on the same floor. It was very quiet and I don’t think I’ll ever forget looking out the window at the lights in the shopping center across the street. It was the most Christmas I had felt because of being so focused on babies. The white lights were beautiful in the trees and across the roofs. It made me happy and content. I sent Brad home to sleep in a real bed, looked at the lights, and got several hours of sleep. Several more hours in a row then I would have at home in fact. Oh, one other interesting thing about the experience was I needed a breast pump which the nurse in my ward had to ask for help with. Between pumping and feeding the boys the next day when my family brought them to be with me, this ward was a lot different from Labor and Delivery. Nurses would quickly look away and say they’d be back. I just laughed and told them to come on in and do their thing. After talk of keeping me another night, my doctor came by at around 5 PM and changed her mind, sending me home. My family very sternly warned me to follow the rules about no laundry, dishes, etc and I have since made it my job to witness this to other cesarean mothers.

And that’s how Logan and Forest entered the world and how I experienced it!

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