Best Moving Day Ever!

Yesterday was one of the most precious days of my entire life. As I sat kangarooing Cameron, our favorite nurse, Megan, came over to me and asked, “How do you think Cameron would like a change of scenery?”. I knew exactly what she meant and I got excited. It was FINALLY time for the twins to be moved next to each other!!! It’s been 5 weeks tomorrow and the twins haven’t been near each other. Within minutes, they began moving the bed that was currently next to Violet and started getting Cameron ready for the big move.

Once he was in his new spot, we couldn't take the smiles off of our faces. Dennis was kangarooing Violet so he was able to watch everything happen, as well. Then, even though I’d held Cameron for the day already, Megan took him back out and we were able to take our first FAMILY picture. Needless to say, my eyes are ridiculously puffy because I couldn’t stop crying. We waited so long for that moment and it was finally there. We held them there for a few minutes just soaking everything in when Megan said, “Okay, now I’m really going to push it”. She took Cameron from me and put him in Dennis’s arms. Dennis was holding our two babies and they were as close as they had ever been since being born. For us, it was absolutely incredible. I loved seeing them together. It was one of those few times in life when you picture something in your head over and over and then when it actually happens it’s even BETTER than you’d imagined. We all know that doesn’t happen very often. It was absolutely beautiful and it’s something I will never, ever forget. When I’m 100 years old, and I’m about to peacefully die in my sleep (because duh, that WILL be how it happens), I will have the images of last night running through my mind.

 

 

Violet slept through pretty much the entire thing. This was a little surprising to us because she’s our little party girl. She always has to try to stay awake when she knows someone is there. But, she was out like a light for the big move. Cameron, who sleeps through everything, was WIDE awake. He was the most alert I’ve ever seen him. His eyes were big and it looked like he just kept trying to figure out what the hell was going on. They were both so cute. We kept saying that Cameron was telling Violet she can’t boss him around anymore just because they are close again. I told Violet she can’t be a bossy pants, but I don’t think she’s going to listen. I told them both to look out for each other and to keep each other company when Mommy and Daddy aren’t there. The move actually made leaving a little easier because I knew they were so close. They’re finally together again. While they’re still in their incubators, it shouldn’t be too long before they can come out and be in NICU cribs. Cameron is wearing clothes and Violet will probably come off high flow and move to regular nasal cannulas soon. I’ll say this until the day I die (which will be when I’m 100): my babies are miracles. I love them more than anything in this world and I can’t wait to get them home. Miracles do happen.

One Month Old!

Our babies turned one month old yesterday! In a way it seemed to go by fast, but then I think about being in the hospital and the day they were born, and the first time I saw them in the NICU and it feels like a lifetime ago. I also think about the fact that that means we’re only about a third of the way through this (hopefully!).  It’s so strange.

We made it through Thanksgiving! One of the main reasons we were able to make it through is because when we arrived at the hospital, Cameron was on the high flow nasal cannulas! We were so happy. Violet was taken of the cpap earlier than Cameron, but this little man seems to be catching right up. They are both doing so well.  Every day that goes by is one day closer to bringing those little angels home.  They are making this so much easier on me by fighting so hard and progressing as they are. I’m so proud of them and pray that they continue to get bigger, stronger, and healthier every day.

With the holiday season starting, the emotional roller coaster is hitting me again. I’m not going to be decorating or putting up my tree this year. I’m not anti-Christmas or holidays or being happy or anything like that. I just know that every time I’d look at my tree, instead of getting that warm and cozy feeling, it would just make me miss the babies more. I can’t imagine missing them even more than I do now.  It’s getting harder to leave rather than easier and I think it’s because they are starting to really seem like BABIES. They open their eyes so much more and respond to our voices. Holding them is the most amazing feeling in the world because they are so content and warm and snuggly. It’s perfect. I never want it to end while it’s happening. I have to admit, though, it does get quite uncomfortable for my neck because I can’t help but stare at them the entire time.  

Everyone keeps asking when they will be home. The fact is, we don’t know. We don’t know because they are preemies. Today, they should be 31 weeks old… GESTATIONAL age. Instead, they are one month old. It’s absolutely insane. I know there are still so many what ifs and so many possible things that can happen, but I have faith that they will pull through. They are such miracles. We are so lucky that these babies survived! And now they are doing so awesomely.  One of the nurses said, “it’s okay to be happy, but you know you have to be cautious… you can’t trust a preemie”. After she walked away, I whispered to Cameron, “I trust you. I trust you and your sister”.  I hope that gave them some extra fight.

I can’t wait until the day I feel whole again. My chest feels empty and my mind is always thinking that I’m missing something. I know exactly what those somethings are and soon they’ll be at home with me, Dennis, and Ivy. Keep sending the love, prayers and support. 

Keep Keepin' On

It's a few days after Cameron's ligation and we're still waiting for this turnaround we've heard so much about. The past couple of days we noticed that he was twitching quite a bit and the nurses seem to think it's because he's in pain. I can barely stand when I see him like that or when I think about my baby in pain. I feel like I'm going to be sick each and every time. He's on a lower dose of morphine right now because they think the higher dose was making him a little lazy. Since he was being a little lazy, he was not generating his own breaths. This is what we need him to do to come off of the ventilator. While I was there today, the nurse kept telling me he was having a good day. While I still saw a lot of twitching (we were reassured that it's definitely not seizures), he seemed to be okay and his alarms weren't going off at all. She also had him on a lower percentage of oxygen which was making him work more. I know my little sweetie can do it, he just needs some time. My sister and husband have been telling me that he's just going to be more like me when it comes to pain and healing. It's always taken me a long time to heal or recover from something. Perfect example: the c-section. My infection is still here, but it's getting better. I wish it would just leave already so I can feel more normal... physically, at least.

Even though Cameron hasn't been doing too great, he has gained weight. He is up to 3 lbs now! Our little flower is up to 2 lbs 7 oz! She's doing very well. Violet had a little bit of an off day today, but the doctor believes it's because she needed a blood transfusion. So, as I type, my little sweetheart is getting a blood transfusion. She's up to 20 mls on her feeds and they started her on vitamins today. After her feeding, she threw up. I have a feeling that everything was just a little much for her today (meaning the 20 mls and the vitamins). I forgot to mention that Cameron is also back on feedings (2.5. mls).

I'm so tired of people looking at me. It sounds weird, but I feel so uncomfortable because I know people are studying how I look and how I'm acting. I know most people are just concerned and trying to help, but I've never had so many people study me and comment on my appearance in my life. It's a strange feeling and it's starting to get to me. Even if it's a compliment, it still feels awkward.

So many people have been so wonderful and caring throughout all of this. You certainly realize how many people truly care for you when you go through something like this. You also realize there are some people that just don't get it or are even more self-absorbed than you thought. Those aren't the people that matter, though. The people we've been focusing on are the TONS that are praying for us, supporting us, and helping us get through this nightmare. We are lucky to have so many awesome people in our lives... and even some that aren't really in our lives at all! I received adorable and thoughtful gifts from one of my best friend's future mother-in-law yesterday. I had never even met her, but she told me how happy she was for us. And she's certainly not the only one who has been so generous and thoughtful. Between all of the gifts, messages, visits, phone calls and help, we're somehow surviving.

Thank you to all of you. Someday Violet and Cameron will know how much love and support they received while our family was going through this difficult time. I will make sure that they realize how amazing it all has been. Keep praying for the loves of my life.

Reality

Beginning these blogs is getting harder and harder. I don’t know how to start them anymore because I don’t know what to say. I definitely still feel like I’m living someone else’s life. I just keep waiting to wake up and still be pregnant. I’m waiting to hear my alarm go off at 6am, to complain that I have to go to work, but go anyway. Waiting to walk through the doors at school and pick up where I left off… moving into Persuasive writing in Language and… I seriously don’t even remember where we were going in Reading. Waiting for my next doctor’s appointment or my next ultrasound… waiting to get bigger and bigger and more excited to deliver the babies. And then reality hits (again and again) like a ton of bricks. I never thought it would be so hard to adjust to reality and to something that happened almost 3 weeks ago. Nevertheless, here I am struggling every day.

The other night, in the middle of the night I awoke from a nightmare about Cameron. I woke up crying and had a sick feeling about it. That day I planned on going to the hospital a little later, but after the dream I just couldn’t wait and went up early. Right when I got there, Cameron’s nurse told me that he had a bad night. He stopped responding to his ventilator and then wasn’t responding when they “bagged” him either. I guess the whole episode only lasted seconds. After the episode, his doctor said that they realized the tube for his ventilator was a little small for him so they gave him a bigger one. He’s been fine since then. We also received the news that Cameron would need the surgery to close the PDA. Yesterday my sweet baby had his PDA ligation surgery. He did well and the surgery was a success. The doctor told us it’s normal for babies to get sicker the first 24 hours after the surgery, but then they normally pick back up. I was hoping this wouldn’t be the case with Cameron and that he would immediately start doing better. Of course, this doesn’t seem to be the case. Overnight and throughout this morning Cameron was having blood pressure issues. He also has some fluid in his lungs. He’s been put on meds and, again, I’ve been reassured that all of this is perfectly normal. His doctor still expects a full turn around for him and expects him to start progressing very soon. We know our little man will do this, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying and worrisome for us. I love my sweet, little boy so much. I wish I could give him all of my strength and then some. Before the surgery, I had some kangaroo care time with Cameron. It was amazing, of course.  Also, for the first time, my husband got kangaroo time with him. It was wonderful.

Miss Violet is doing beautifully. My tiny princess is now on feeds at 15 mls!  They were able to stop her iv fluids tonight because she’s now getting enough nutrition from her feeds. According to the doctor, this is a very big step in her progress! She’s also doing very well respiratory wise and may soon be on a high flow machine. I’m hoping that will mean that little mask will come off and I’ll get to see her beautiful face a lot more often. I’m so proud of her for doing so well. What a little fighter we have. I have a feeling she’s going to be a little feisty. Between Violet and me, Dennis and Cameron are in big trouble.

Our little family is having a rough time, but we’re getting through it. I hope the babies feel our strength and presence as we go through this together. I hope they can feel how much we love them and how much we are praying for their health. Our friends and family are wonderful and continue to pray for us and send us their positive vibes all the time. We are very lucky to have such a great support system.

Still not much milk… at all. Still have the infection.  The road to recovery isn’t an easy one, but if my babies can deal with what they’re dealing with, then I can certainly keep dealing with this stuff.

I’m scared every second of my life now. I’m trying to be more positive and I think I’m starting to feel more normal, but the guilt and sadness will just not relent. Hopefully, as time progresses, and our babies get bigger and stronger, things will get better for all of us. For now, we will continue to visit, love, support and pray for our babies.

Ups and Downs

Yesterday when I went to the hospital the nurse asked me if I wanted to hold Violet. I was able to do kangaroo care with her. Feeling my baby against my skin was incredible. She’s so soft and little and perfect. We both were comfy and cuddled for about 40 minutes. I’ll never forget that feeling and how happy I was to hold her so close to me. I’d go through it all again for those 40 minutes. It’s so hard to be a mother and not be able to hold your babies whenever you want to. I have so many urges just to lift the tops of their incubators, take them out and put them close to my heart. If it wasn’t for all the damn tubes and ivs, I probably would do it! Needless to say, I was on a high and feeling great when I headed over to see Cameron.

When I approached Cameron’s nurse, I immediately asked how he was doing and her response was something like, “ehhh ok… he’s very touchy today”. She also went on to tell me that the pda is STILL not closed even with the second round of meds. They are calling it a “large” opening again. They are going to try one more round of meds and if that doesn’t work he will most likely be getting the surgery. My high came down to a low. My poor, sweet boy is working so hard. I feel so bad for him. I just wish I could take it all on myself and fix it all for him. Surgery makes me sick, but I know that if all goes well he will get much better… hopefully sooner rather than later. Whatever needs to be done to help him thrive will be done despite the fact that it makes me sick. I sat with Cam the rest of the afternoon, just staring at his sweet face. To me, he is starting to look a lot like Dennis. Dennis doesn’t see it, but I’ve really noticed it the past few days. I think Cam will look like Dennis and have his personality. Maybe that’s why I think he needs his Mama so much… just like Daddy did when they first met :-)

After I came home last night, my incision was beyond swollen, hard, and red. The antibiotics I was taking for the infection clearly weren’t kicking in yet. I wish someone would’ve told me NOT to put heat on it. I didn’t know any better, though, and I did put heat on it. The incision drained for a good 6 hours last night and still is a little bit right now. Maybe it was a good thing, though, because the pain has lessened significantly and the swelling has gone down. Dennis kept trying to get me to call the doctor last night, but there was no way IN HELL I was going to call only to be told to go to the ER. NO WAY was I going to go to the hospital last night. I would have seriously lost my mind. I’m going to call my doctor today just to make sure everything is okay. Looks like it’ll be hard for me to get to the babies on my own today, but my mom said she’d leave work to take me. We’ll see how that goes.

Pray for my babies, please. They’ve come a long way, but they’ve got a long way to go. Today I’m going to put pictures of Jaxon in their “bedrooms” so they’ll want to get big and strong to be able to play with him.

First Halloween

Today is Halloween. A couple of weeks ago, I was so excited to see Jaxon in his Woody costume and to try to think of a creative costume for a pregnant woman. I wish I was still that excited. It's my babies' first Halloween and the poor little angels are in the hospital hooked up to machines and ivs. I hate this so much. I don't know what to do sometimes. I cry all the time. All. the. time. Every time I think about that fact that I can't protect and take care of them, I just cry and cry. All I want to do is be able to scoop them up in my arms, cuddle with them and tell them they don't have to work so hard anymore... tell them that their Mommy and Daddy will protect them from everything. Leaving them is only possible because of the nurses and doctors at Christ Hospital. If they weren't so amazing, I'd never be able to leave.

Today I'm waiting a little while to go see them even though it's killing me and making me sick to do so. When I went to get my staples removed yesterday, the pain was getting a little worse and part of the incision was hardening. Guess what? Infection, of course! At least I was able to start to the antibiotics, so hopefully that'll be better soon.

After I see them today, I'm going to my sister's house to celebrate Halloween. I know it'll be hard, but watching how excited and cute Jaxon is will help me.

This is so not how imagined their first Halloween. Next year they are going to have the best Halloween EVER. Next year, they are going to have the best of everything... and they will have the same for the rest of their lives. These babies are going to be so spoiled. I don't care... they deserve it.

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.