As the doctor performed my ultrasound, her expression shifted. “Oh my,” she exclaimed, sensing our apprehension. “You’re having twins!” I glanced at my partner, who was juggling our young children—a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old—on his lap, trying to keep the peace. Our eyes met, a mix of shock and excitement passing between us. From that moment, our lives were forever changed by the whirlwind that was our twin boys’ arrival.
At 28 weeks and 4 days into my pregnancy, I found myself awake in the middle of the night (again, needing to use the bathroom). To my dismay, I realized I had already wet the bed. After contemplating the situation, I began to suspect my water might have broken. With our kids peacefully asleep, I drove myself to the hospital, convinced I’d soon return home to chuckle with my partner about my embarrassing predicament. However, a swift test revealed that amniotic fluid had leaked, and I was promptly placed on hospital bed rest after receiving steroid injections.
Fast forward to 30 weeks pregnant. I woke up at 2 a.m. needing to pee (again). To my horror, I discovered my bed was drenched. This time, I was certain I had done the unthinkable. I called for my partner, who had stayed the night with me while his mother helped with the kids. As I stood up to head to the bathroom, I immediately sensed that something was very wrong. When we flicked on the light, the sight was chilling—blood everywhere, pooling onto the floor. My partner sprinted out to find the nurse.
I remember her rushing in with urgency while speaking on her work phone. It was clear the doctor was occupied delivering another baby. I felt the blood pouring from me and tried to stop it. Once she hung up, I asked her, “Am I going to die?” She replied calmly, “Just hold on, Sweetie.” I urged my partner to take care of our kids and remind them of my love for them. The rest of that night is a blur, though I distinctly recall being in the operating room, my hands strapped down, as they cleaned my abdomen with iodine. Terrified, I exclaimed, “I’m still awake!” The anesthesiologist reassured me, “We know, honey, don’t worry.”
When I came to, I felt disconnected from my body. A neonatologist was explaining what had happened. Both boys were safely delivered, but Cannon had ingested blood into his lungs and stomach due to my placental abruption, while Bennett had experienced a minor brain bleed. They faced a tough road ahead. I had lost a significant amount of blood, but thankfully, my body had enough extra volume due to the twin pregnancy.
Bennett and Cannon were born weighing 3 lbs. 10 oz. and 3 lbs. 4 oz., respectively, and spent 63 days in the NICU. I can still hear the beeping of their monitors. When they finally came home, they required supplemental oxygen for six weeks. The fear of bringing home two babies who had repeatedly stopped breathing during our NICU visits was overwhelming. I asked the nurses about home monitors, but they discouraged me, citing the potential for false alarms and increased anxiety.
By six weeks, both boys had stabilized their oxygen levels, and we were relieved to finally say goodbye to the tanks.
Nearly three years later, Bennett and Cannon are thriving, and we often forget the terrifying ordeal of their early days. With their chubby cheeks and mischievous antics, they are as healthy as we had fervently hoped for. We couldn’t be prouder to be their parents. For those on a similar journey, consider exploring resources like Progyny for valuable insights on pregnancy and the path to parenthood, and check out this post on boosting fertility. If you’re interested in learning about intracervical insemination, this link provides essential information.
In summary, the journey through the NICU can be fraught with challenges, yet the joy of bringing healthy twins home can make it all worthwhile.
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