{begin note from 2014} We are currently in the process of moving from Nashville to Nicaragua, and it's going really well. I started to post an update about that, but... it totally bugs me that the previous blog post was a few days before the twins were born, in 2011. I feel like I can't tell this story without telling that story, first. And the story of the day they were born - how do you capture something so... everything, all at once? So I've never written it out, and it kind of became this blog-juggernaut. So without further ado, I'll just write what I remember. {end note from 2014}
Ian & Isla's original due date was October 6th. On July 28th, at my 28 week ultrasound, my doctor noticed that Ian's umbilical cord might be decreasing in function. He sent me over to the maternal-fetal specialists for their opinion, and they agreed that it was worth keeping a close eye on. So I was admitted to the hospital, but not on bedrest or in labor - they just monitored the babies' heartbeats twice a day, and did an ultrasound every 3-4 days.
The day I was admitted to the hospital, we also bought a house and sold a house and started a two week kitchen/bath remodel on our new house. TJ had just started working in the missions department at Lipscomb, and he came to the hospital every day after work. We would eat dinner together, and look at pictures of how the remodel was going, and listen to the babies heartbeats, and enjoy our view of downtown Nashville, and chat with the awesome staff at Baptist Hospital - it was just a really sweet time. TJ had a place to stay, since our house was under construction, and we rested much easier knowing that I was in the hospital, and help was right there if we needed it. I had a blast during the days, going through lots of lovely baby gifts, and watching Glee on Netflix, and writing thank you notes, and planning for our new life in our new home with our new babies.
When I was admitted to the hospital, they gave me steroid shots to help the babies' lungs develop in case they came early. Then our goal was to make it to 30 weeks. Once we made it 30 weeks, our next goal was 32 weeks, and then 34. At 34 weeks, they were definitely going to go ahead and deliver the babies. All of the babies' tests and monitoring were going so well, the doctors began to wonder if the problem with Ian's umbilical cord was actually there, or just something they couldn't see clearly with the machines. So we were sort of in this Baptist Hospital induced bliss, where we never really expected the babies to arrive for several more weeks.
On Monday morning, August 8th, Dr. Bellardo came in for his rounds at 7am. (HOW are doctors so awesome and dedicated? I had no idea they did hospital rounds before office hours.) He said I was at 31 weeks, everything was going well, and we were hopefully on track to deliver the babies at 34 weeks - towards the end of August. I usually went right back to sleep until 9 or 10 am, then showered around noon - basically just did whatever I wanted. But for some reason, I decided to go ahead and start my day. I took a shower, put on clean clothes (read: pajamas), and waited for them to take me for my scheduled ultrasound that morning.
My ultrasound went really well. I loved talking with the ultrasound techs, and seeing the babies move around. We could see that Isla had hair, but they couldn't tell if Ian had any (spoiler alert: he did not). I remember the ultrasound tech saying she was going to let the maternal-fetal specialist know about one of the measurements she was taking, but that it shouldn't be a big deal. She wheeled me back down to my room, and I started working on my thank you notes again. I had missed a call from TJ - he was in an off-campus meeting all day, and his phone didn't get good reception in the room he was in. I texted him to let him know that the ultrasound went well, and they weren't seeing signs of low function in Ian's umbilical cord. I texted him at 10:53am. (Spoiler alert #2: the babies would be born about an hour later.)
As soon as I sent the text, a nurse walked back into my room and said the doctor wanted to have a look at the ultrasound herself. The wheeled me back down to ultrasound, and Dr. Graves (my very favorite of the maternal-fetal specialists) rechecked the readings. She said that it was nothing to be alarmed or concerned about, but she did feel like Ian's umbilical cord function was truly beginning to decrease. She thought it best to deliver the babies that day, even though I was only at 31 weeks, 4 days. I had a hard time processing what she was saying - I think she said, "Today's the day you're going to become a mom," or something like that. All I could think to ask was, "What day is it?" I knew it was around my brother's birthday - August 9th - and I was wondering if the twins would be born the same day. When they said it was August 8th, I just remember thinking, "I guess they won't have the same birthday as Bret." I have noooooo idea why these were the thoughts that popped into my head.
I remember Dr. Graves saying that the babies would be born that day, but it was not an emergency - it would probably be later that afternoon, or early evening. So I should let TJ know to be on his way, but to be sure and tell him not to speed. They wheeled me back down to my room, and told the nurses the big news. I remember wanting to ask if the babies would be okay, but I was afraid they would only be able to give me a vague answer, and I just couldn't stand to hear that.
I called TJ once or twice, and he didn't answer. I think I put on some makeup (???) while I waited for him to call me back. I didn't hear back from TJ right away - he was at that all day meeting, so it didn't concern me too much. I gave Moriah Farmer a call, since she was on campus at Lipscomb, and near where TJ's meeting was being held. I didn't get ahold of her either, so I called Julie Woodroof, the admin for the missions department. (And dear friend, and wife of Tim, whom I'd worked on staff with at Otter Creek.) I told her the babies were going to be born that day, and asked if she could phone the message to TJ. Julie said she'd drive over and let TJ know right away. I said that absolutely was not necessary. She said it absolutely was.
As I hung up the phone, a literal swarm of people streamed into my room. At least 8 nurses and techs and anesthesiologists and I have no idea who else. They said that they were taking me to deliver the babies right away. I said, "Oh, no - Dr. Graves said it wouldn't be for several hours." And they said, "It's happening now." I was maybe a little bit confused about why it was all happening so quickly, but... it was all happening so quickly I didn't have time to think about it! The medical team was absolutely amazing, and they worked together all at once. They got me into an OR gown, started an IV in one hand, explained procedures and had me sign consents with the other hand, tugged compression stockings onto my legs, and wheeled me out of my room in a matter of minutes. They kept asking where my husband was, which I thought was weird. I kept thinking... "He's on his way. He'll be here. They would never deliver the babies without the father being here - that only happens in the movies." Just as we rolled up to the OR, and it really started to sink in that this was really happening now, I sent a quick text to TJ. I had a second of panic where I thought, "Ohmygosh what if he doesn't make it in time"? And then I saw him running down the hallway towards me, and I knew everything was going to be okay.
Except I had not read one THING about pregnancy or delivering babies or C-sections. I know most people read a ton about all of that stuff, but it just felt really overwhelming to me. There is just so much information out there, and I didn't want to go down a lot of worst-case-scenario routes. So it made more sense to me to take everything a day at a time. And I thought I had a LOT more time before the babies were born. (And probably I was in a teeny-tiny bit of denial that two tiny humans were about to join our family. From the moment we found out we were expecting twins, everything felt very surreal.)
I was really afraid they would start the C-section while I could still feel everything, because they seemed in such a hurry to get the babies out. They did whatever procedure they do numb you for a C-section. I was afraid that it would hurt, but it really didn't. And then all of the sudden I was on the operating table, and TJ was in scrubs, standing right beside me. Dr. Bellardo was there, and rolled something across my belly to see if I was numb yet. I'm pretty sure I said very emphatically that I could still feel it - I have NO idea why I was so scared that they were going to start before I was numb. Dr. Bellardo told me a little bit about what they were going to do, but mostly I just remember him directing the nurses.
I still wanted to ask if the babies would be okay, but I was too afraid I would hear a vague answer. So I just tried to prepare myself that maybe they wouldn't cry right away, but that necessarily didn't mean that they wouldn't grow to be healthy. We knew the babies were about 3lbs each, which is not micropreemie, but is still 2 months early. We had done a tour of the NICU with a Baptist multiples class a few weeks before, so I felt great about the care they were about to receive.
The babies were delivered very quickly - Baby A, Ian, at 12:04pm. He cried - a tiny, loud, absolutely infuriated and pathetic cry. Baby B, Isla, born in the same minute - 12:04pm. She cried - a tiny, loud, absolutely infuriated and pathetic cry. They were here, and breathing, and our world shifted around us. So fast and surreal and beautiful and absolute, I think we're still trying to wrap our heads around it.
The nurses held Ian up to my face so I could see him for a second, and a quick kiss. Same thing for Isla - a quick peek, and a quick kiss. We don't have any pictures of those first moments, just a video.
TJ went with the babies to the NICU, and he said it was an incredible thing, to watch the teams of doctors and nurses assess and care for these brand-new beings. I went to recovery for a few hours, and TJ would come in and show me pictures and videos of the twins. I was absolutely reeling from what had just happened, and trying to process that I wasn't going to finish season 2 of Glee that day, after all. I was still numb, and shaking. And there was someone else in recovery, on the other side of the curtain from me. She had her baby with her, and I remember thinking, "I know I should probably feel jealous that she's getting to hold her baby, and I don't know when I'll get to hold mine. But I'm shaking uncontrollably, and I don't feel that great, so I'm really glad someone else is taking good care of them right now. I'll just focus on trying to stop shaking, and moving to my room, when it comes time."
After a few hours, they moved me to my room, and wheeled the bed into the NICU so I could see the babies on the way. There were so many people around, and I felt so out of it. And the babies were so tiny, with lots of tubes and wires. I didn't really feel scared - by now we knew the babies were stable. I just felt sort of disconnected from it all. The nurses told me I could reach over and touch the babies, and I did. I remember thinking it should feel very momentous, but I just felt sooooo out of it. They wheeled me up to my room, and I slept for about 12 hours.
Around midnight, TJ and I were able to go back down to the NICU, and see the babies again. It was really calm, and sweet. We knew the twins' nurse, Meggie Bumpus - she had been a part of the college group at Otter Creek while TJ was the young adults minister there. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to see Ian & Isla sleeping peacefully in the NICU, and to know that someone we knew was going to take extra-extra special care of them. It was a lovely first visit with our marvelous son and captivating daughter.
Our families arrived around midnight, as well - they drove in from Oklahoma as soon as they heard the babies were on the way. I think they stopped in to see me, but I don't remember it clearly. I remember thinking, "I know who these people are, and I know they are important to me, and something important has just happened, but I reallllly need to go back to sleep. I think our families got to see the babies that night, but I'm not sure.
TJ's sister, Mickey, was also there when the babies were born. And Blake and Moriah. And Janet Crothers. They were in the waiting room, and (I think) they decorated our room with "Happy Birthday" banners for the twins. I never got to seem them that day, but TJ did. And I think they were able to see the babies, too.
The next morning - Tuesday, August 9th - I felt MUCH better. I was still in a wheelchair most of the day, but was able to take a shower and get dressed. We celebrated with our families, and visited the babies several times. And I tried to wrap my mind around our new normal. I remember a lactation consultant stopped by, and briefly showed me how to use the pump, and said I would need to pump every 3 hours. I remember thinking, "There is no way I will have time for that. I have way too much to do. That is crazy to think that someone could do that every 3 hours." Little did I know... I would indeed have to make time for that! And I was about to start factoring the eating/sleeping needs of two tiny humans in to allllll of my minutes, not just every 3 hours. I definitely couldn't have imagined how much I would enjoy that. The constancy is relentless, but... mostly, I revelled in the newborn days/daze.
It was about a week before we were able to hold the babies, but that never felt super-devastating to me. It all just felt very gradual and right, and we learned to care for them well from the beginning. The NICU nurses NEVER made us feel like we didn't know what we were doing. And we could visit as often and as long as we wanted, which was wonderful. Knowing that Ian and Isla were doing well, and healthy, and just needed a few weeks to grow stronger was a great joy. I'd heard so many people talk about how difficult it can be to have a baby in the NICU, but we had a wonderful experience. We were so very thankful that Ian and Isla were with us, and healthy, and had access to such great care - there just wasn't any room for sadness. It was also awesome for me to have a few weeks to recover, and get moved in to our house before we brought them home.
We loved getting to know Ian & Isla as they grew stronger in the NICU - holding them, and changing their diapers, and giving them baths - learning to swaddle them, and doing bottle feeds, and eventually even dressing them in real clothes. We loved visits from friends, and the special blankets from Carol Reese, and the name banner above their beds from Moriah. Every little milestone was sweet and somehow a surprise. And then one day... it was time to take them home
We walked out of the doors of Baptist Hospital on Friday, September 2, 2011 as a family of four. (They had tried to tell me earlier that week that the twins were almost ready to go home, but it was Labor Day weekend. And I thought, "Oh, there's no way they'll send them home over the weekend - it's a holiday weekend." I just... had no idea.) We strapped our tiny kiddos into their carseats, and drove down West End to Panera. TJ got me a cinnamon crunch bagel with hazelnut cream cheese, and a Dr. Pepper. And we toasted the safe arrival and homecoming of our favorite-people-ever.
