So much has changed since the last time I have blogged.
Life has changed. And in such a powerful way that I don't even think I have the words to fully explain.
Allan and I welcomed our daughters, Isla and Zara, into the world at 8:09 & 8:12 on October 10, 2013. But before I get ahead of myself, let me give you some background information on the day.
Background: We had a doctor's appointment scheduled for 3 o'clock to check my blood pressure, talk about my symptoms and just overall so my doctor could make the "final" decision on delivery. We went into the doctor's office about 20 minutes early in anticipation of that being delivery day - as I had been monitoring the above issues and knew they weren't good. Sure enough, my blood pressure at the office was 162/97, which seems high - and is - but was close to what I was running at home. Also, I had some vision issues as well as headaches. All of this put together, with my swelling and recent protein spills in my urine, my doctor decided that it was time for me to deliver these girls not only for the safety of my health, but also for the safety of the girl's health, as it was only a matter of time before my issues started affecting their placentas (i.e. life lines).
Before delivery: We arrived at the hospital a little before 4 o'clock and my doctor had scheduled the c-section for 5, roughly I get into my room, in my gown and the nurses all rush in to ask me questions, hook the girls up to the monitors, etc. One of the questions they asked was, "When is the last time you ate?" Well, I had had lunch at 12:30 and also had a few gummy bears at 2 o'clock b/c, well, hey, I was pregnant and hungry!! Well, this was the news that changed everything. The anesthesiologist pulled the plug on the 5 o'clock surgery time and moved me back until 8pm. Well shit!! So we had 3 hours of torture waiting for the "big event" and 3 hours of NST monitoring - which is not fun when your belly is twin big!!
Warning: The next section will include some scary information (not graphic - but quite alarming). If you are easily upset, please do not continue.
Delivery: I chose to deliver the girls via c-section, which, ended up being the right choice as both of the girls were breech at delivery. The nurses came to collect me from my hospital a room at 7:30 and bring me to the OR for prep. By the time I was to the OR I was quite nervous and a bit anxious. I was in the "I want to turn back" frame of mind. Who enters an OR like that!? So I voiced my thoughts and everybody assured me things would work out - I gave Allan a big hug and pulled myself together mentally. So we entered.
Up on the table the anesthesiologist prepped me for my spinal tap. I was petrified! He had me lean over my belly so that it would spread my spine bones apart, but with a twin belly, this was quite the task. I was in a lot of discomfort - but also - scared he was going to miss. First he injected a numbing agent which hurt like a son of a bitch - but wasn't as bad as I had imagined the spinal tap to be. Well, two shots later (one being the spinal) I was ready to go - and honestly - the numbing agent was the worst part of it all!!!
Immediately I feel my legs get heavy, almost like they were filling with sand. The nurses had to help me lift them onto the table and then lay down. The funny thing is, I could still feel my feet as they were putting up the curtain, so I freaked. I started telling the doctor, "No, we can't do this - I can still feel everything - this isn't going to work!!" My doctor looked over the curtain and said, "Do you feel this?" and she grabbed my toe. "YES!!" She smiled calmly, and immediately said, "And this?" "Ummm...noooo...." She smiled in the calm caring way she has done every time I've panicked in her office and said, "I don't care if your feet are numb, I'm not performing surgery there, I care about your midsection. Your midsection is numb b/c I just pinched it with these [showing me a very scary, pinchy looking medical piece of steel...thing super tweezers] very hard and you didn't feel it. We're ready to go." I took in a breath, looked at Allan and tried to mentally check out. This is where my body started to convulse/shake and I was told to focus on the music to 'calm down'.
The surgery starts and really, all I could feel, was pressure and my shoulders being moved slightly from side to side by the actions that were happening below the curtain. The movement came b/c they were rolling my lower half from side to side - both girls were breech and so they were trying to grab them and flip them a bit. This did not happen. Zara came out butt first and Isla came out with one leg down, one foot up by her face.
After about 5 minutes (it felt like 5 hours) of pressure and slight movement it was announced that Zara was born. I was happy - but instantly aware of the fact that she was not crying. I voiced my concern and was told that it was normal for babies delivered by c-sections. My shaking, that I mentioned above, started to really get intense, to the point the anesthesiologist had to hold me down to keep me still while the doctor continued to deliver Isla.
Last warning...it gets scary after this...stooooop reading if you are easily upset.
As the procedure continued Zara was whisked over to her team (3 doctors) of doctors who started working on here. This was all following the plan my doctor had given me - so I turned my head and watched. Still shaking. As a matter of a fact, by this time, I have told the anesthesiologist that "I'm going to pass out" to which he replied that he's had dads pass out, but never mothers, and to just breathe.
Suddenly, in an instant, everything changed. Mind you, Z & Isla were born only 3 minutes apart - so what I'm about to happen took place in 3 minutes - but it felt like 1/2 hour.
I look back to Zara to try and focus on her and not the massive pressure going on in my stomach (they really had to push and roll me around to access Isla). I was happy to see Z but I was focusing on the doctors faces for some reason. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could see them all look very concerned. My shaking increased and I couldn't breathe. "Something's not right," I tell Allan and I could feel myself tear up and begin to lose control. "Everything's just fine, they are just making sure she's okay. And she is!" Well, no sooner did he say that then did they all get this very serious Grey's Anatomy look on their face and start moving - one to open the door and two to push Z'a crib out of the room.
"Oh my God, something is wrong..." I said. "Nope, they just want to make sure she's okay and doing all the things she should be doing," the anesthesiologist assured me (later to find out he meant they were checking her breathing.). This was not following my plan. The girls were supposed to go to the NICU together. At this point Allan is talking to a doctor, looks at me and says, "Do you want me to go with her?" Now, prior to surgery we had decided he would go to the NICU with the girls while I finished surgery. I figured that the team had just taken her to the NICU early - so I said yes and that Isla would follow. Off he went, almost running.
We are now nearing the end of the three minutes and I'm shaking so bad, I'm feeling dizzy and lightheaded and cannot focus. I'm really preparing myself to die after I see Isla (dramatic, eh? But I hate being out of control of my body.). Over the curtain I hear my doctor say, "Hold on, she's almoooooooost hereeeeeee...." and then Isla crying. Instantly. She cried instantly. My thoughts go right to Zara. Something. Is. Wrong. By this point, the doctors know I've caught on and they are trying to distract me. With jokes, with asking me stupid questions, "What's one thing nobody knows about you?" anything. Finally, Isla passes all of her tests (the ones that Zara was rushed out during) and she is placed on my chest. A distraction. But, the most beautiful distraction I've ever seen. It works. I'm distracted by my daughter. But I'm still shaking/about to pass out. She's now taken, but slowly and peacefully, to the NICU.
The rest of the surgery - as they say - is history. It takes about 10 more minutes for my doctor to finish up and I'm wheeled into recovery. I'm checked on. A lot. By multiple team members. Finally, my doctor checks on me and gives me the news: my blood pressure was dangerously low during the surgery, and still is. Also, my core temp dropped, which could be normal, but they couldn't get it to go up. I was to remain in recovery longer than normal. Instantly I start throwing up and the shaking/convulsions come back. I'm then hit with the news that due to all of this I was given morphine - which I'm insanely allergic to - but it was their only way to calm some of the other issues with my body down. Great. Morphine. At this point, Allan comes to check on me, but he's anxious and I don't know why. Then he tells me he has to leave and he will send my parents in.
I'm so sick, so drugged up and so out of it that the next few things are a blur. Here's what I remember: I throw up. A lot. I can't stop shaking so I'm given another medication. Then it's time to go up to my room, but on the way, I'm rolled to the NICU. The movement of rolling makes me insanely sick, and the NICU is really hot. So as soon as I get into the girl's room, I begin throwing up. I'm rolled out quickly. I don't remember what happens next - if I pass out or blank out - but I only remember being in my room all of a sudden. I also know it's been an insanely long time since I've seen Allan.
The nurses who were to tend to me were very attentive. I'm throwing up, still shaking and feeling like I'm going to pass out. Finally somebody comes clean with me: I'm not doing "good". They've had to up my meds and now need to monitor my body temperature & blood pressure like it's their job (which it is) to figure out how to stabilize me. Allan comes in - he's exhausted. He stays for a bit but is so tired he needs to go home to sleep. That was fine by me - it was our plan all along. The nurses come in and wrap me up in blankets - I'm sweating like I've never sweat before - but my temp is dangerously low. The move me on to other warming methods. I fall asleep.
I wake up the next morning in a much better place. The nurse came in and explained they were able to stabilize me over night. We kind of made a joke about it all - but it was pretty close to being "bad" as far as my BP & temp went. It was a darn good thing we took the girls when we did b/c of the BP...but I am okay.
Once I'm taken care of I have them bring me down to the NICU. Before we enter they stop me and tell me about Zara. She was okay now, but she was very, very close to not making it last night. Apparently she had so much fluid in her lungs that they couldn't get her to breathe. They gave her medicine to clear out her lungs, but by that point, she still wasn't wanting to try to breathe. When they rushed her out - they had rushed her out to get x-rays and hooked up to a breathing machine. What I was about to see when I went in, the nurses said, was scary to see - but we were in the safe zone.
I went in. My poor little baby was hooked up to all kinds of tubes and IVs. She was very small and fragile looking. She was gorgeous - but I was terrified. Very shortly the Respiratory Therapist arrived. He explained everything and how they were at a point now that they were not concerned about Zara's survival. "She was here by the grace of God," he said - and that he was so happy to be a part of her team and he would keep a good eye on her until she no longer needed assistance to breathe.
Long story short - he kept his promise. Zara was taken off all breathing assistance by Saturday morning.
She was thriving. Isla was healthy. I was on the mend. Life is good.
Saturday until now are all a bit of a blurred mess. I'm going to have to update you about the progress they made each day once I've had a moment to process it. But, I assure you, I will. The progress, the tests, etc., that they all had to endure for the last 72 hours is incredible and will be documented. But not yet. This is their birth story. And they are here.
I'm so in love.
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