Miracles-Part Two

In the days leading up to the birth of my twins, I was in the most physical and emotional pain I’ve ever been through. I didn’t know how much the human mind and body can endure until this experience was over. Without the love and support of hundreds of people… LITERALLY hundreds…. I wouldn’t have made it through.

The room I was assigned was a good sized room with my own bathroom and a (very) little sofa. Oh yeah, and my bed… which was a DELIVERY bed. They were so convinced that I was ready to go at any minute that I had to stay in a DELIVERY bed for 4 days. Those of you that have been on a delivery bed know that it’s not a “bed” because there is absolutely no support. It comes apart in different places and the bottom is lower than the top half. This is the space I was confined to for four days. I wasn’t allowed to get up to do ANYTHING. The nurses couldn’t put a catheter in because they were too worried that it would break my water bag. Bed pans for 4 days. Guess who changed them every, single time? My amazing husband. I will forever be indebted to Dennis for everything he did for me during this time and how he never complained once. He didn’t complain while I asked him to get the excess hair off of my face that the babies were causing, he didn’t complain after he changed the bed pan and 10 minutes later I had to pee again, he didn’t complain when he had to brush my hair and hold my spit cup when I brushed my teeth. I don’t quite think this is how he imagined taking care of his 30 year old wife… 90 maybe… but not 30. He was great, though and I love him so much because of it.

Being confined to a bed is awful. Being confined to a bed and being on the worst drugs imaginable is hell. I was on a bunch of things, but the med that had the worst side effects was the magnesium. I was on the highest dose possible to stop the contractions. Side effects that I was warned about: flu like symptoms, fatigue, change in vision, headaches, change in breathing, and nausea. I experienced all of them. On Saturday, my eyes were so swollen I couldn’t even open them. When I did open them, it didn’t matter because everything was blurry. I’m pretty sure my friends and family thought I was going to die… pretty sure I thought that. Sounds dramatic, I know, but I wish I was kidding. Finally, the nurse called to check if I was getting too much of the magnesium because of my awful reactions. When she got the results, she said that the toxic level is 7.4 and mine was at 7.1. Yikes. No wonder!

The nurses were all acting as if I was going to be there for weeks. They were telling me to try to get comfortable because it was going to be my life for several weeks. I couldn’t imagine it. I had feelings of immense guilt because I just wanted it to end, but I knew that they only way it would end would be if I delivered the babies. The doctors, on the other hand, were acting like I was going to deliver the babies within the next hour. The conflicting opinions made matters even worse because we had NO CLUE what our lives were going to be like.

I really struggled with the fact that I went in on Friday morning thinking I was just going to get a shot and be sent home. I was already bummed that I had to miss a day of work. Now, I had to face the reality that my “life” as I knew it was over. No more working, no more house, no more dog… nothing. Everything had disappeared that morning and trying to cope and deal with that seemed like torture.

Aside from the selfish feelings of wanting everything to be over and done with, there was even more guilt that came through because of the situation. I started thinking about how it was MY selfish decision to go through with fertility treatments, how it was MY selfish decision to agree to put in two embryos as opposed to one, how it was MY fault these babies weren’t going to stay in me much longer. I was doing this to myself and to them. I still don’t think I’m completely past all of those feelings, but they were at an all-time high during my time in my Labor and Delivery Prison.

The one positive thing I can say about that miserable, crazy 4 days ( I won’t bore you with all the horrible details… we’ll keep this story moving along) is that my nurses were AMAZING. I’ve always had the utmost respect for nurses, but this has taken it to a new level. Without their support, encouragement, and compassion this ordeal could’ve absolutely put me over the edge. So, thank you to the Labor and Delivery nurses at Christ Hospital---you were truly a blessing for me and my family.

So, like I said, I won’t get into the misery of those 4 days. Let’s move along to Monday night… the night before my precious babies came into the world. I’ll never forget trying to pretend that everything was normal. We sat in my room watching the Bears play the Lions for Monday Night Football. I tried to get into it, but something was distracting me—contractions. I let the nurse know and she called the doctor to see what he wanted to do. They were getting a little closer together and more painful by halftime. When the doctor answered, he said to put me back on the magnesium. “God, help me” was all I kept thinking to myself. I knew at this point I had to mentally leave my body. I asked God to protect me and more importantly the babies, but I was mentally checking out. The whole four days had been somewhat of an out of body experience, but I knew that I couldn’t do this.

Once the mag started pumping through my veins again, the contractions were expected to cease. They did not. They kept coming… stronger, longer, and closer together. At about 3am when the nurses started calling the doctors to come check me, I woke Dennis up and told him to text my sister. Dennis wasn’t convinced that anything was actually going to happen so he held off. I knew, though. I knew that this was it.

The doctors refused to check to see if I was dilated because they didn’t want to stir anything up, so they brought in an ultrasound machine. That was the last time I would see my babies on an ultrasound machine. There they were… 26 weeks was all the time they were going to get inside of me. 26 weeks was all the time I was going to get to feel them inside of me. 26 weeks was all the time I was going to get to be pregnant after working so hard to get there. Even though I was terrified, I knew things were happening and there was nothing I could do about it. So, again, I felt as though I left my body. Sure, I felt the pain of the contractions and my heart beating out of my chest and the convulsions I was having because I was so nervous, but I knew I had to do it. I had to be strong for my babies. My body was so unbelievably weak considering I hadn’t even walked in that past, oh, 80 hours or so.

At about 4:15, my nurse told me that my doctor was on his way and we were going to get ready for surgery. Dennis was texting my sister and soon my family would be on their way to the hospital yet again.

It was time. The anesthesiologist came and met with me minutes before I was wheeled down to surgery. Once we were in the room, he asked me to roll onto a table that seemed like it was about 2ft long and 2ft wide. I wondered how in the world I was going to maneuver myself onto the table and then stay there, but it worked. Seconds later, I was told to sit up so I could receive the spinal. I remember putting my arms on the nurse and then feeling numerous surges of piercing pain going all through me. It didn’t last long and then I was flat on my back. It seemed like I waited for hours before Dennis was finally by my side. During that waiting period, I felt the meds start to creep up my body. I hated the feeling of losing feeling in my body. Just when I started to panic, I’d try to breathe through it and tell myself it would all be over soon. The worst part of losing feeling was that I felt like I was forgetting to breathe. I had to keep sucking in huge breaths as if I forgot and just remembered to breathe.

My doctor began the surgery. It seemed like hours of pulling and ripping and pressure before he finally pulled out Baby A and announced that it was a girl. It breaks my heart that I never heard my baby cry (she couldn’t)  or saw her little face right after she was born. There was an entire team in there just for her. Once they stabilized her, they took her immediately to the NICU. Violet Laurie was born at 5:51 am and was 2 lbs 2 oz. Minutes later, 5:55 to be exact, my sweet Cameron Patrick came into this world. Again, I heard and saw nothing, but I knew his team was working on him, as well. Soon, the babies were both gone and my surgery was wrapping up. All I remember thinking was how I felt like the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz when he’s getting put back together. The feeling was disgusting. ..so disgusting that I started vomiting. The anesthesiologist stood next to me as I continued to dry heave and vomit. I remember saying to Dennis over and over, “Am I okay? Are the babies okay? Am I okay? Are they okay?” It was all I cared about and it was all I could manage to say. Dennis also likes to add that I kept pushing his hand away… which I don’t remember. Sorry, honey!

After I was all stapled up, they took me to a recovery room for a little while where I continued to puke and come in and out of sleeping (I think). Dennis went into the waiting room and found more than just my immediate family. He told them that everything went well and I had given birth to a sweet baby boy and a sweet baby girl. My sister said that as soon as she saw his face she knew everything was okay.

My babies were born. I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t believe it. My sweet little preemies were taken to the NICU.

Enough for now… Part 3 will be a long soon.

Miracles-Part One

It’s 6am. My hospital room is silent. I am by myself. The other patients on this floor don’t get these moments of complete silence as often as I do. The other patients on the floor often hear crying newborns near their bedside. While I’ve been a mother for 48 hours now, I’ve not heard a single cry from my babies. My babies can’t cry, yet. My babies aren’t with me, yet. My babies haven’t been wrapped up in my arms and placed on my chest, yet. My babies are preemies and are in the NICU.

Usually when I write blog posts, I kinda outline (in my head) or map out what I’m going to say, what I’m going to leave out, and sequence the events before I start typing. Not today. I don’t know where to begin today or where to end. I don’t know what to say or what not to say. I don’t know if I’ll finish in 15 minutes or 15 days. I’m starting, though, and I guess that’s all that counts.

During the early morning hours of Friday, October 19, 2012, I had no idea how much my life was about to change forever.  For the couple of days prior to this morning, I had been noting some different things going on with my body. There was some extra cervical mucus when I used the bathroom and I had a tightening in my uterus. After researching and talking to numerous people, I came to the conclusion that I had been experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions. The changes were noted and monitored, but were never a real concern. Then, Friday morning between the hours of 2 and 4 am, I realized the contractions were getting stronger and becoming a little more consistent-about 10-15 minutes apart. After this realization, I woke up my husband and decided it was time to call my doctor. I wasn’t scared or even nervous really. In my mind, we were going to have to go to the hospital for a few hours and then hear the news I was dreading at the time, “no more work—bedrest until you deliver”.

 I spoke with my doctor sometime between 4 and 5 am. At first, he was very relaxed and told me he didn’t think I should go in yet with the contractions being 10 minutes apart. Before we hung up, he confirmed my due date one more time, “and you’re due date is October 28^th?” Ummmmmmmmmmm…. Nope… January 26^th, doc! This made him change his tone a little. He told me to get to the hospital and we’d take it from there. Still, I felt no panic or sense of urgency… they were just going to give me a shot or something and I’d be back home by the evening.

On the way to the hospital, I do vaguely remember telling Dennis to try to hurry it a long a little because the contractions were getting closer and more intense. By the time we’d reached the parking lot, I was contracting every two minutes. You would have thought there would be bells and whistles going off in my brain… still nothing. At 26 weeks, the last thing you expect is to be doing is going into REAL labor.

Once in the hospital, we were sent to Labor and Delivery-triage. I was told to give a urine sample, get in a gown, and that someone would be in shortly to check and see what was going on. This was my last moment of sanity. After the first and second person were checking me and giving me the test to see if my water bag had broken, within minutes there were 8 other people in the room. Everything is blurry when I look back on it, except for when a doctor sat down on my bed to talk to me. I don’t remember exactly what was said. All I remember are the words “48 hours, crucial, delivery”. They might not have all been in the same sentence, but those are the words I remember. I then asked the doctor, “wait… does this mean the babies are going to be BORN within the next 48 hours”. Her response was something along the lines of “yes”. Like I said, though, I can really only remember a few specifics from that morning. Within seconds of the doctor telling me that I was going to have the babies soon, the neonatologist came in to speak with us. She talked for a while and, again, I can’t tell you anything she said until, “do you have any questions?” My one and only question was, “What are the survival rates?” I’ll never forget her response, “60%”. Devastation and shock were taking over. I looked at my husband, my rock, and tears were already falling down his face. What the hell was happening to us?

When I came in, I was having contractions that were 2 minutes apart and I was dilated to 5 or 6. Unbeknownst to us, the NICU and neonatologists were prepping for the arrival of our very early babies. We were taken into an ultrasound room with an ultrasound tech and two high risk pregnancy doctors The doctors didn’t sound hopeful and I felt like the ultrasound tech felt sorry for us. Up until that moment, I was strong enough not to find out the genders of the twins even though we were dying to know. Something inside me told me to find out who they were and give them their names. I felt like I needed to start praying for my babies as individuals... as “real” people. The tech shortly confirmed what I’d known in my heart since our first ultrasound where all we could see were little spots: Baby A was a girl and Baby B was a boy. Happiness and sorrow filled my heart at once. Was this it? Was I going to name these babies right then and then have them be nothing more than memories of what they felt like on the inside? It’s what it felt like at the moment and it was certainly how everyone around us seemed to be acting. The tech told us she would give us a minute of privacy and that’s when Dennis and I confirmed our sweet babies’ names. Baby A, our sweet princess, would be Violet Laurie. Violet was a name I came across a few months ago and just could not shake. It’s delicate and beautiful, but felt solid, as well. Laurie came from my aunt/godmother. Laurie battles breast cancer everyday of her life and has proven to our family that miracles do happen. She is a fighter. She is one of the strongest women I know. At this point we knew that Violet was going to have a tough road ahead regardless of what happened and we knew that she deserved to be named after someone amazing. Our sweet Violet Laurie had been given the perfect name. As for our precious Baby B… my impossible to photograph in the ultrasound because he’s so crazy little boy… we chose Cameron Patrick. Cameron is my maiden name. I’ve always loved my former last name and felt that it not only sounded good, but it represented my dad’s and grandpa’s history. Patrick was Dennis’s dad’s name. While I never had the opportunity to meet his dad, I’ve heard a lot about him and I KNOW he’s one of the reasons Dennis has turned out to be an amazing person, husband and now father. There was never a doubt in our minds that we were going to use this name to honor the memory of his dad. Another baby was about to receive the perfect name.

Watching my husband cry tears of fear and sadness was something I wasn’t used to… at all. As I watched the tears roll down his cheek, I just kept thinking, “What is going on? What is happening to us? Is this real?” I still can’t believe the answers to the questions I had. I will never be able to recall exactly what happened the rest of that day. Perhaps my mind blocked it all out. Perhaps when they put me on the high dosage of the magnesium to stop labor my brain stopped working. Perhaps I just left my body for a while. I’m not sure, but as I said, I can only remember bits and pieces of the misery that was to be the next few days.

We were told repeatedly that day that it was essential to keep them in for at least 48 hours. This way, the babies would get the steroids they needed to develop their lungs and increase their survival rates. Because I was so dilated and my water bag was “bulging”, I was put on strict bed rest in  the hospital until I delivered. We were put into a rather large room with our own bathroom, small couch and a delivery bed. This would be our home until our babies arrived. With no answers , no end in sight, and no positive information from the doctors our situation looked incredibly bleak.

Instead of making this one reeeeally long post, I’m going to post this and then continue writing later. It’s been hard to find a time to sit and do this. Next post will be along shortly.

Baby Shower

6 months and counting! These munchkins are moving around like crazy. For a while, I really only felt movement on the left side (Baby A). Within the last couple of days, though, Baby B has decided to join the party. I think this is why I've been so tired lately. They are both very, very active. It's so awesome feeling them move. Even though I've seen them via ultrasound and feel them moving all the time, it's still so hard to really picture 2 babies growing inside of me. So weird!

This past weekend was our baby shower. My mom and sister worked so hard to make it perfect for us. We truly were showered with lots of love and lots of gifts. Everyone was so generous and really helped make our baby shower one that we will never forget.

Here's a pic before everyone got there.We decided to use the clubhouse where my Grandma lives and it turned out perfectly. There was plenty of room for just over 50 people and plenty of room for all of the food and gifts. The breakfast that we decided to serve was delicious.

The cake was so bright and cute for a baby shower. "A Gift from Above, Two Babies to Love" is what the cake said and the picture in the middle is a picture of the shower invitation that had two little lovebugs on it.

These were the shower favors. I know I have a better picture somewhere, but I can't find it. They're two little twinkies with baby bonnets. The tag says, "Twink You!"









Here is our drink table with our little mimosa bar.

My awesome sis and mom. I'll never be able to thank them enough!

These may have been the cutest things ever. Each guest filled out a card with their "Wishes for The Sheppard Twins". When we read them at home, we couldn't even read them out loud because we would get choked up. They were so sweet and personalized. Such an awesome idea.

And the happy, happy couple...

I only posted a few pictures because I'm feeling incredibly uncomfortable right now. My stomach is killing me. The few pictures should reflect how cute the shower was and how happy we all are. Thanks to everyone for everything. We couldn't have asked for a better shower.

Twinkie Update

Words will never be able to express how happy I am to be pregnant. Every day, I get more and more excited about meeting my little sweeties. Part of me feels like I already know them. I know it’s crazy, but I feel so strongly that I know them and their personalities. Maybe it’s all in my head, but it’s a very strange (but awesome) feeling. I’m always referring to Baby A as “she” and Baby B as “he”. I honestly would be very, very surprised if we had any other combination in there. It wouldn’t be a disappointed surprise, though. Our little family will be perfect no matter what their genders are.

I never thought it would be THIS hard to wait to find out what the genders are. My ultrasound is in a few days and I know I’m going to have to try my best to resist asking what I have inside of me right now. The only thing that keeps me from doing so is the thought of the moment when they actually arrive. I’ve always pictured that moment as being the most amazing moment of my life. Not that it would be any less amazing if I knew the sexes, but I’ve just never pictured it that way before. There are so few true surprises in life and I want this to be one of them for me and for my husband. We’ve waited for that moment… or those moments for such a long time.

My stomach is getting bigger, my acid reflux is scalding, I’m out of breath when they decide to get cozy in my ribs, I’m ridiculously emotional, I can’t eat a vegetable or look at raw chicken without throwing up in my mouth, I’m exhausted, I have crazy sleep patterns and dreams, I can’t go to the bathroom no matter WHAT I do (any advice here would be appreciated), working is becoming increasingly difficult, I’m nervous and scared, and I LOVE it all. Sounds crazy, but all of these things are constant reminders that our wish came true. They’re moving now as I’m typing and I couldn’t be happier.

I know so many people that are going through fertility issues right now. Stay strong. Keep hoping and wishing and praying. Miracles happen.

First Day of School... For Real This Time

I'm so exhausted! Today was my first day with the kiddies and I'm definitely feeling it! I was fine throughout the day and even on my way home, but once I got home I was done. I guess my body isn't used to not being able to sit and put my feet up whenever I want. Just gotta get back in the swing of things, I guess.

All in all, it was a pretty good day. The kids were well-behaved and cute. When I told my first period class that I was pregnant they all clapped for me. Precious little things. It was hilarious because I just kept thinking "if they only knew!".  I felt so much better being at school than I did last year. It was so challenging for me to be there mentally when I was constantly somewhere else.

After school, I had to go get some lab work done for my new doctor. As I was leaving, I said to the babies, "you guys have no idea how much blood and urine have been taken from my body and no idea how many needles have been in me and how many appointments I've been to". Then I started to cry because I remembered that it's been just about a year now since I made the phone call to the fertility clinic. I rubbed my belly and told the babies they were worth all of it. We're very lucky to be where we are one year later... two happy people anxiously awaiting the arrival of two little sweeties!

17.5 Weeks-What NO Pregnant Woman Wants to See

Yesterday was the first day of school with the kiddos. We also had Open House in the evening. I woke up and wanted to jump right into the shower so I could find something to wear during the day and evening and pack enough snacks so the twins would be happy all day. When I opened my eyes at about 6:10 or so, I had to get up pretty quickly because I had the urge to go to the bathroom really bad. I noticed that I barely made it because my dark gray pj pants were a little wet (yay pregnancy!).  While urinating I felt a clump of something come out. I remember thinking something like, “wow I must have a lot of cervical mucus going on this week”. As I wiped, however, I saw something that NO pregnant woman wants to see throughout her pregnancy: blood. Once I could comprehend what it was, I noticed that it was blood on my pants. I immediately shot up and looked into the toilet: more blood and what looked to be a large clot. Panic set in and instinctually I reached into the toilet to see if what came out of me was actually a clot. I know it’s disgusting, but when something like that happens, being gross is the LAST thing on your mind. It was a clot and everything around me was bright red. It seemed as though the whole bathroom was bright red. As I scrubbed my hands in the sink, I looked in the mirror and began crying and shaking. This was, without a doubt, one of the scariest moments of my life.

Dennis was still sleeping, not yet up for work, so I came in and tried to calmly tell him that I was bleeding. He sprung out of bed and tried to calm me down a little. He found the doctor’s number (I was completely useless… I don’t even remember what I was doing while he was talking to the on-call service). An on-call doctor called back within minutes and wanted to talk to me. She said my ob wouldn’t be in until after noon, so I had to go to the emergency room. Reassuringly, she told me that it sounded like everything was okay because I didn’t have any pain and it wasn’t continuous bleeding. This helped a little, but my heart was still pounding out of my chest and I couldn’t stop shaking.

On the way to the hospital, all I could think about was how if we lost one of them, I would never feel complete again. They weren’t just “the Sheppard twins” anymore… these were our BABIES. Then, the thought crossed my mind that something could be wrong with both of them and I was almost sick. What would we do? How would I keep going? Would we try again? The worst of the worst thoughts were taking over my brain.

Minutes after checking into the emergency room, the nurse took me into a room to ask questions about my health background and why I was there. This didn’t take long and she sent me back to my seat in the waiting room. As we were sitting there, to my surprise, my mom walked in. I’m not sure why I was surprised at all… she’s been there for everything I ever needed her for. She sat with us and told us everything would be okay and before we knew it, I was called back to a room.  On the way to the room, the woman leading me there said, “oh twins! How exciting! I was supposed to be a twin, but my mom lost it halfway through the pregnancy”. Thanks, bitch!

I won’t go into every single detail, but I will tell you, that I had a very uncomfortable exam. As a result of that exam, I had to get catheterized for the day and was told I needed an ultrasound. The doctor could only find one strong heartbeat. She said that she truly believed it was because the other one wouldn’t stay still, but only hearing one heartbeat was terrifying.

Up to the ultrasound room we went. I’ll cut to the chase, both of them were there. Both of our sweet babies were squirming around and looking as adorable as ever. Both of their heartbeats were just fine. I finally was able to relax a little. The ultrasound tech said she really wasn’t looking at them, though, and that she needed to look at the placentas and my uterus to figure out why I had bled. By this time, it seemed that the bleeding had ceased.

After the ultrasound, back to the er we went only to discover that the tech didn’t do everything she was supposed to do. Back up we went. At this point, I also told my mom to go home. We had gotten there before 7 and it was already almost 11. We knew the babies were okay so there was no sense in staying in misery since Dennis was there with me.  After I’d been wheeled to the ultrasound room for the second time, the tech told us the ultrasound was going to take an hour and a half. While getting the ultrasound I thought was going to jump out of my skin. I was hot and nervous,  my hips, back, and butt hurt like you wouldn’t believe since I’d been flat like that for so long, they were doing construction right outside the room so the drilling was drilling through my brain and that catheter is NOT comfortable. The time seemed to be standing still and (seriously) just when I thought I was going to become a crazy patient and jump out of the bed and start screaming, she was finished.

Back down to er. We waited… and waited… and waited. By the time we got back down, the er had become packed. Hours later, the nurse came in (after Dennis had to go flag her down) to FINALLY take out the catheter. At least I could get up and move around now. Then, the doctor came in and told us everything appeared to be fine and he didn’t know what caused the bleeding. So, almost eight hours in the hospital and still no idea what happened. The important thing was that the babies were fine. Thank God.

Before receiving my discharge papers, the doctor told me I could not go back to work this week. I was quite surprised and my brain started freaking out. I didn’t have anything ready for someone else to come in and do the first few days of school! How could a teacher miss the first 3 days of school??? This is where my awesome coworkers/friends come in. I’m so lucky to work with such wonderful people. The staff at Veterans Memorial will never know how much I’ve appreciated EVERYTHING they’ve done for me over the past year. From the favors, the texts, messages, phone calls, cards, gifts, covering for me, listening to me, and just being there for me… I will never be able to thank them enough. I hope they all know that I wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for them.

Thank you, also, to my husband, mom, sister, and family and friends that have helped me get over every bump in the road… no matter how big or small those bumps happen to be.

Today is a new day. No blood today. I go back to the doctor for a follow up tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll tell me that everything is fine and I can return to work on Monday.

The comfort and happiness I feel knowing that my babies are safe is indescribable. All I want to do for the rest of my life is make sure they are happy and healthy. How can I love two people (so much!) that I’ve never met? It’s unbelievable and amazing.