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| Who's a big brother? Me! |
Thursday, June 7 was a typical day. Typical meaning that I was in bed all day. I felt great, as long as I was lying down, and that for me had been the normal over the last few months. Despite foolishly fighting a persistent urge to pack a hospital bag (I had convinced myself that if I didn't pack a bag until I was ready for them to come, then they simply couldn't come yet), I felt perfect. I had even started telling people that I really felt like I would make it to July, especially since my doctor's appointment on the 6th revealed no dilation, no contractions, and no... I mean NO indication that I was anywhere near a pre-term labor.
But I apparently got too cocky. About 6:30 on Thursday evening, Adam and Shannon had gotten home from school and work, and I made my way to the couch to talk to them for a few minutes. 10 minutes later, I was having cramping in my back and went to lie down. By 7:00, I was in the bathtub, realizing that I was having a few contractions. By 8:00, I was monitoring contractions at 3-5 minutes apart, so at 8:30 I took a Terbutaline. It didn't change anything. At 10, with contractions about 4-5 minutes apart and getting stronger, I was concerned and called my parents. My mom came over to take care of Adam. While she was on her way, Shannon took a nap. I took a shower. We were at the hospital by 11:30, determined that in just 5 hours I had dilated from 0 to 3-4 cm, and they began the process of trying to stop the contractions.
4 shots of Terbutaline later (one every hour), and one IV of Nubain (pain killer that typically stops or slows down contractions), I was dilated to 5 cm and still feeling contractions, although it had slowed them down. Friday morning the on call physician in my doctor's practice (my doctor was out of town for the weekend) came to tell me that they had a last resort, but if that didn't stop the contractions and if I was still dilating further by noon, it would be time to go ahead and do the c-section. Either way, she said, even if the contractions did stop, I was 80% effaced and already 5 cm dilated, so I was going to be in the hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy, however long that was. We also talked about how waiting too long might mean we pass the point of an epidural, and that delivering one baby naturally while another via c-section if there were issues would be a dangerous situation we needed to avoid. The last thing I wanted to do was have a natural birth AND a c-section, and I agreed.
So they gave me another shot, which basically did nothing, except make me realize how exhausted and stressed I was. I had come to terms with the fact that the babies were coming whether I was ready or not, despite the number of nice nurses who came in and said they thought the contractions would stop. Yet another doctor in the practice came to introduce herself and determine that I was 6 cm dilated, and told me it was time to go into surgery. She asked if I was okay with that, and I smiled weakly and said I didn't think I really had a choice. She went to prepare for surgery, and I bravely waited for the anesthesiologist to come and give me the epidural.
The epidural doesn't hurt, but for whatever reason the initial introduction of the medication to my system in large doses causes my blood pressure to drop quickly, makes me shake uncontrollable and vomit. It happened when they prepared me for the c-section with Adam, and I had already told me to hand me the bed pan about 10 minutes before I started to throw up. And cry. But that was the worst part of the whole surgery (not counting the recovery period starting the next day, which was painful, stressful, and full of fun surprises like an unknown allergy to morphine... but I digress).
After 18 hours of labor and a 30 minute c-section, Colin Daniel was born at 1:38pm, weighing 5 lbs and 7 oz, 18 inches long, and looked at the crowd of doctors wide eyed and curious before he ever uttered a sound. He cried, they showed him to me, and then whisked him away to do his apgar scores and evaluate him. He had quite a bit of fluid in his lungs and it took them a while to get him breathing at a level they were comfortable with. His 5 minute apgar scores were an 8, which isn't too bad. He had been pretty far down in the birth canal since he was Baby A and head down, ready to come into the world.
Claire Elizabeth was born one minute later, at 1:39 pm, weighing 5lbs even, and 18 1/4 inches long. She cried a little quicker than her brother and they showed her to me, then took her off for her evaluations. She did better initially in the operating room than Colin did. Shannon looked pretty concerned about how frantically they were working on him, but I could do nothing but lay there, staring at the ceiling while they finished working on me, and try to come with terms with the idea that I had just given birth to 2 babies... at only 34 weeks and 2 days pregnant. Many weeks before my "goal" date.
They brought Colin over for me to hold briefly, and I looked at his adorable little cheeks and smiled, since it was a little like deja vu. Colin is the spitting image of Adam, just a little smaller. He looked directly at me with these wise and calm eyes that reminded me so much of his dad. Then they brought over Claire, this tiny, petite little girl, and the first thought that came to my mind was, "my God, she's gorgeous." There is no way to prepare someone for the rush of emotions that accompany falling in love with two little people so quickly.
They took the babies away and wheeled me to recovery. Shannon joined me for a few moments but I sent him off to NICU, which became his third home for the 4 days that we were in the hospital (his second home was my hospital room). I got to see them again for a little bit when they wheeled my bed in before taking me to my room, but for the rest of the day I still had in the epidural, the next day they took out the epidural at noon, and started giving me percocet for the pain. The percocet didn't work, even after two doses, and after 6 hours I was in extreme pain, so they gave me a shot of morphine. My nasal cavity swelled up nearly immediately, and it didn't help that I was crying from the pain and at a pain level of 10. I called in a nurse to ask if someone could take care of me, and she told me that my pains were from gas (they were not) and that it was a shift change so someone would be in in about 3 minutes. I took that to mean 10 minutes. An hour later she came back, and of course I was worse. She asked why I didn't call I nurse, and I just glared at her.
When I swallowed I could barely breathe out of my mouth, and I was panicking. Her supervising nurse came in and asked what was going on, and at this point I was panicking and trying to explain that something was very wrong. They acted like I was overreacting and told me it would be best if I tried to get out of bed, despite the fact that on a scale of 1 to 10, my pain level was easily a 13. I also couldn't breathe. They told me to calm down - that the reason I couldn't breathe was because I was crying, and that there was going to be "some" pain with a c-section. I snapped at both of them and said that I had done this before and that this was not new to me. Shannon chimed in, and when I got to a sitting position, they asked if I felt better. Of course I told them no. She told me I could lay back down, and I told her I wasn't moving. I sat perfectly still and stared at the floor until she left, and then laid back down again.
The nurse on the night shift, Margo, meanwhile, had come in when the whole thing started, took one look at me, and left immediately to call the doctor to tell her I was having a bad reaction to the morphine. She came back with a shot of antihistamine (my nose cleared up immediately), and a better pain killer to make me more comfortable. She told me that my upper lip was swollen, my eyes were swollen, and that I was starting to get a rash on my face. 3 hours later, she helped me get out of bed and into the shower, and I did it "easily." But I had worn myself out and was in no shape to see the babies at all on day 2. I cried some again just for that.
For the next 4 days Shannon slept a little, took care of me while I cringed in pain even through all the drugs they gave me that didn't work, and spent countless hours in the NICU getting all the information about the babies, dropping off breastmilk, changing diapers, taking temperatures, and talking to both babies. By day 3 he fell victim to a cold he had been fighting off, and went to the NICU with a mask and wouldn't accept offers to hold them because he was terrified of what he would pass along to them.
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| Shannon changing Claire's diaper |
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| Holding Colin |
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| Holding Claire |
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| Holding Both Colin and Claire |
Before the c-section I had asked if they were going to give me steroids to help the babies' lungs before birth, and they said that since I was at 34 weeks, some doctors do recommend that but some don't. I can understand how that is a tough call, because while Claire might have benefited from some steroids, Colin probably didn't need it. Even though Colin needed the most attention to his breathing right after birth, he was faster to come off the CPAP and even quicker to not need the oxygen tubes. This is unusual, because usually little boys don't do as well as fast as little girls. But Colin improved quickly. Shannon laughed because he heard one nurse in the NICU comment on how well, "little white boy" was doing. Shannon knew what they meant, but thought it was an interesting comment. When it came to eating, Colin was a little slower to get it. He improved every time, but finds the whole sucking/swallowing thing a little complicated and doesn't really like the bottle because it's too fast. I got to try to nurse Colin first, but that first time he was much more interested in cuddling and sleeping than he was in eating, so he was fed most of his meal through the feeding tube.
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| Claire 3 days old |
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| Baby Steps - Colin and Claire's new "room" |
Yesterday for an hour I held both Colin and Claire at the same time while they slept, and then helped them move to their "new room" in Baby Steps and tried out nursing both of them - Colin for the second time, and he was much more interested. He then stayed awake for almost an hour, looking around at every body. I also nursed Claire for the first time, and she was a natural. They are both around the same level of improvement - Claire does not digest her food very well and often has issues with residual meals still being in her stomach by the time her next meal begins, but when she eats she does well. Colin digests fine, but despite his full, adorable little cheeks, is not as interested in eating as he is in cuddling. So they have a little to teach each other I suppose.
As for their personalities, they are very different -- both are calm, and I have not heard either cry unless they are annoyed by a diaper change (Claire) or by a bath (Colin HATES baths until you rub his head). I asked the nurses if I've just been lucky and only been around when they aren't fussing, and they tell me that neither of them really fusses much. They are pretty content. However, Claire is a little fiesty and wiggly. She's active like her oldest brother. Colin is complacent, observant, and laid back. He opens his eyes to find you and just takes it all in. Both Colin and Claire look like Adam, but they look very little like each other. I'm not sure how that can happen, but it did.
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| Colin 1 day old |
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| Colin 4 days old |
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| Adam at 1 day old |
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| Adam at 13 days old |
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| Claire 6 days old |
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| Claire |
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| Colin |
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| Erin and Claire |
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| Shannon and Colin |
So, to wrap up my series of weird headless body shots, here is a picture of me one week after delivery. I may feel a little more comfortable, but a part of me knows I should still be pregnant, and all of me misses my kids severely.
1 comment:
i loved reading this story. you are an admirable mom and went through quite a bit! i love hearing about their personalities and it makes me a little attached to them too :) you'll be in my heart and prayers...
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