The morning of 8/9/10

Ok, so I'm already crying just thinking of what I'm going to write. I'm gonna be a mess by the time this is over...

I went to bed Sunday August 8th, expecting to sleep through the night (well, with bathroom trips every hour) and waking up the next day and check off some things on my to do list. Little did I know that by 8 o'clock the next morning, I would have two children.

Around 4:30 I woke up to a popping feeling. I stood up and immediately realized that either A) I didn't quite make it to the bathroom or B) my water broke. I eliminated option A rather quickly because like Josh so gracefully told the nurse at the hospital, I've never been much of a bed wetter. So, I woke Josh up and told him it was time to go to the hospital. I frantically tried to get all the last minute things I was meaning organize (hence the to-do-list that was going to happen the next morning) and by 4:45 we were on our way to the hospital. By 5:00 am I was strapped to monitors and they were questioning whether my water really broke (insert bed wetting comment here). They finally were convinced that it indeed had and they gave me an ultra sound to see the positions of the babies. Sophie was still hanging out frank-breech (aka bum down and feet up by head) and so they knew they had to do a c-section automatically. My doctor was out of town, but luckily I had seen the on-call doctor at my last prenatal visit so at least I knew what the man who was going to slice me open looked like. By this time it was 6:00 and he said he'd be back in an hour and we'd do the surgery.

Now, I've known my chances of having a c-section were REALLY high since about week 30. The doctor said that with the position of baby A (frank breech), there would be no chance of a traditional birth. At first I was totally bummed, but soon came to the realization that they could do whatever they needed to to insure that all 3 of our lives were spared. So, I waddled down to the operation room (yeah, I was a little annoyed they made me walk...) and I got the epidural. With a c-section, the epidural is much deeper and you're numb from the chest down. I got a little shaky and was really panicky inside (for those of you who know me, you probably know my lifelong fear of childbirth). I had prepared for several months about c-sections, but was still in denial of what was about to happen. Within 15 minutes of me waddling into the operating room, I had my girls. It was nuts. Josh stood next to me, peaking over to see the 'action'. The doctors were able to keep me slightly distracted by singing Gaston from Beauty and the Beast and talking about boating on Bear Lake. (Really? Small talk during a surgery? Singing?) However, I was truly grateful for it. I was trying not to think about what was going on, but suddenly I felt like I was suffocating. I was almost numb up to my shoulders and couldn't feel myself breathing. I panicked and started freaking out. The anesthesiologist tried to comfort me by saying what I was feeling was normal, but I didn't care.  I was sweating, shaking, and ready to call it quits (not sure how I would have done that one...) when all of the sudden I had the most peaceful feeling I've ever had in my life. I knew they were getting close. I could feel it and I knew everything would be ok. I don't know how to describe it other than it was the first time in my life where I've had to put my complete trust in God. I've never prayed so hard for strength and peace and I've never felt closer to the veil at that moment. Within seconds, I heard the cutest little cry I've ever heard. Sophie was born. They wiped her off and did whatever doctors do to newborns and then brought her over to me. I was shaking and crying so hard that I didn't feel safe holding her for more than a few seconds, but she was beautiful.

I have no idea what happened in the next two minutes because I was staring at Sophie getting weighed and all of the sudden, BOOM second baby born. They immediately realized that Lillian needed help breathing, so they lifted her over the curtain and within two second (literally. One one thousand. Two one thousand) she was gone and I wouldn't see her for another 6 hours. I'm not sure how much longer we stayed in the OR, but within what seemed like 10 minutes (really though I think it was more like 30) I was stitched up and miserably sitting in recovery without knowing what was happening to my babies. Josh was torn between staying with me and going with them to the NICU, but I wanted him with them so I would know what was happening.

So there I was stiff as a board and with the most obnoxious nurse ever. I'm sure she was just trying to get my mind off of things, but she was asking all the typical 'twin' questions (do they run in your family? Identical? What did you do when you found out? etc...etc..) and I wasn't up for answering. I was sweaty (although they kept dumping heated blankets on me because my temperature was apparently low), shaky and worried sick about my girls. All I knew was that Lillian couldn't breathe and they were in the NICU.

On my way to the hospital I sent a text to a few people (sorry if you weren't one of them, but it was early...) telling them that today was the day. The obnoxious nurse got a phone call and informed me that a lady named Lacy (yes, Lacy she called you a lady) was here to see me. I instantly burst into tears because I desperately wanted to see a familiar face. I have no idea what we talked about (morphine will do that to ya) but I was so happy to see one of my best friends and not have to talk to that nurse. Josh came back a few minutes later and showed me pictures of our daughters. I wanted so badly to see my girls, but was told that it wouldn't be until I could get out of bed that I'd be able to. It wasn't until 2 pm that this would happen.

For the next 6 hours I slept. I woke up every now and then and tried to move my legs, but nothing happened. Discouraged, I would go back to sleep or scroll through the pictures on the camera one more time. Finally at 2, I was able to move. I was still super tingly and very nauseated, but I forced myself up and in the wheel chair. It wasn't an easy ride down to the NICU. I think I threw up 3 times during the 5 minute excursion. However, I've never been more grateful to be able to sit up because it meant that I could be wheeled down to the NICU to see my tiny, precious babies.

Sophie Lynn

Lillian Jean

I couldn't and still can't, figure out why or how these babies are mine. They are already showing their personality and seem to be super babies. Surpassing their pediatrician's expectations and coming home way sooner than anyone first imagined. The first time I held them was tied for the happiest moment of my life with when I married Josh. This may have been a bit happier though because now I had a crazy amount of love for not only him, but for this family of ours. I couldn't stay with them long and that was probably the most traumatic thing about the whole experience. I knew there were moms with non-nicu babies with their little ones right in their room. They could hear them cry, they could feed them, hold them, and watch them sleep. I had to leave my little ones on the floor below me with wires and tubes coming out of them. It broke my heart and I didn't quite feel like a mother yet, but I was happy to do it because it meant they were being taken care of. I went back upstairs and continued to...thaw out...from the epidural and we returned at 8 and stayed for several hours. I was still hooked up to iv's and a catheter, but I was a lot more coherent and able to really enjoy Sophie and Lillian.

Come back for more. That was the exciting part, I'll write the rest later. And I realize I've made c-section sound awful with this post, but trust me, it wasn't that bad. Like I said, I was in shock because I was asleep at 4 and by 8 I had two children and surgery involving one of my greatest fears (yes, laugh that I fear childbirth, but I always have and probably always will). Anyways, I'll write the second half later. For now I've gotta catch some shut eye before the girls wake up hungry. Oh the joys of being a mom.