Our beloved battle ax nurse walked in and asked me if I realized that I was having those babies today. Um, yeah, we sorta figured that out. Surgery was scheduled at 8 am. I think two elective sections were bumped that morning because of me. I was unhooked from all the monitors, had to sign all the forms and my OB finally showed up to talk with me.
I managed to remember to ask if I could have my tubes tied. My mind was a whirl and I almost forgot. Our battle ax nurse informed me that I did not want to do that. She was concerned because the twins were in trouble and the possibility of losing one or both was very real. I flat out told her "look, we've been dealing with the possibility of losing these boys since 19 weeks gestation. We've already come to terms with the possibility and still we've made the decision that our family is complete." Without a word she left to get the papers to sign.
There were a number of circumstances that could have made our life so much more difficult. Stuff completely out of our control. We were still going to Salt Lake on a regular basis. If the twins had gone south right before a Salt Lake trip, we would have delivered in Salt Lake. The boys definitely would have spent some nicu time there and our family would have been separated for a period of time right at Christmas. Delivering locally was a huge blessing. Of course there was always the possibility if either baby was sick of getting life flighted to Salt Lake, but our chances to be together were so much better with a local delivery.
After literally months of travel, bed rest and being bopped around to different sitters, my older children needed me. They missed me terribly.
Another blessing, our OB's daughter was getting married the next day, if circumstances had lead to an emergency delivery on the twenty-second, we would have been stuck with the OB on call. A doctor that only performs the old fashion belly button to crotch cut, harder to heal with, worse scarring. Oh was I counting myself lucky to avoid having him cut me!!
So I left labor and delivery. Truly it was an odd feeling. This was the first time I'd left Labor and delivery without a baby! My three previous births had been vaginal and knowing I wouldn't go through labor still made me sad. Oh don't get me wrong, getting the boys out alive was obviously far more important but I don't think there's a mom out there that doesn't understand letting go of a dream. I had argued with my OB just three days before on having a section because I understood now the dangers monochorionic twins are in with a vaginal birth, but still, it was odd being wheeled out still pregnant so I could be prepped for surgery.
By the time I was wheeled into the OR my contractions were getting really strong. I didn't feel a need to mention it, after all, they were prepping me for my c-section. Kent was with me at first as they explained the procedure and what would happen. Then Kent had to leave, he would be brought back right when surgery started.
My contractions made it very difficult for me to lean forward for the spinal. Maybe I should have mentioned it? Not that it would have made a difference, I still needed the spinal in. Sitting up, leaning forward contracting, I was more then a little annoyed when the anesthesiologist got after me for not leaning forward far enough. Yes he was a man, no idea what it's like to lean over a watermelon while your guts and back were being squeezed with pain shooting all directions. The OR doesn't exactly give you an opportunity to work with contractions.
Finally the spinal was in and the effects were almost immediately. I numbed quickly down my legs and back. The nurses laid me down and I was exposed. I knew it had to be but laying there, numb, while the nurses just worked, and chatted while prepping me, for them just another day. It was so routine for them.
In labor, it's different being exposed. You're working towards something, stuff is happening. Every contraction brings you closer to your goal. As your working, your support team helps you, encourages you. The extra touching for comfort, all talking is to you. You feel like part of the machine. While prepping for your section, oh your still the center of attention but you're not doing anything. Just lying there caught up in my own thoughts, I felt disconnected. There was time to fear the outcome, to worry and fret.
I was shaved, very little was spoken to me. Finally my doctor came in, the atmosphere changed as he pulled me into the conversation. He talked to me instead of over and around me. I became a person again. The drape was put up and Kent was brought in.
Boy did he look funny all done up in the surgery attire, mask, hair thing, booties and gown.
I have to explain about my husband. The man spent years and I mean years volunteering for the local Search and Rescue. He was an EMT when we got married. Extricating bodies from accidents didn't faze him in the least. He wasn't squeamish and he wanted to see what was going on.
I knew this was going to be a problem.
After they started cutting, my husband discovered he was at a great disadvantage. The man isn't short but he isn't tall either. The drape was to high and Kent was frustrated he couldn't get pictures like he wanted. The anesthesiologist got him a stool *laugh* Oh he was much happier with a better view. He would have been standing next to the doctor if the doctor had allowed it.
There wouldn't have been room. The operating room was smallish to begin with. So there was the surgical team working on me, two nicu nurses, a ped and four other random (ok, not random but I don't know who they were) staff to attend to the twins. Every C-section has a ped present and a nicu nurse, even those to term and scheduled because of the inherent risk of major surgery to the fetus. My boys wouldn't benefit from the squeezing of amniotic fluid out of their lungs like their siblings had during their vaginal births. This increases the chances of pneumonia and infection if the lungs aren't properly suctioned in c-section babies. Of course my boys were premature, 8 whole weeks premature. They were in major trouble in utero, there wasn't anyway to know what kind of problems they would have until they were delivered.
I need to tell about the boys names. We were advised early on by fellow twin to twin parents to name our babies early so we could connect with them. This really made sense to us. We had spent almost 3 solid months fighting over Ean's name, you would think this would have been hard for us, but a Solomon like solution was within our reach. Two babies, two parents, we each got to pick a name. Kent picked Greg Walter. Greg was Kent's favorite uncle growing up. He lived a rough life, was a biker, drank, did drugs but he had a heart of gold. Walter was Kent's grandfather, he was a school teacher. I picked David Kenneth after my paternal grandfather. A kind and caring man with class and dignity. A diplomat that worked with presidents.
We were both inspired at about 21 weeks gestation that the little baby stuck against the uterin wall was David, while the hellion bouncing all over the place was Greg. Oddly, my mom called to tell me who she thought should get each name. Her intuition was the same as ours.
Since there names were picked out early on and we knew which baby had which names, we had to know who was coming out first. The boys were both vertex (head down) laying side by side. My OB literally could have flipped a coin when deciding who to deliver first. We made sure he understood he had to tell us, so very loudly he proclaimed to the whole room "I'm delivering the baby on the left" Kent and I looked at each other. "It's Greg" we said. Kent quickly got to work snapping pictures and there was a cry. Greg Walter **** was born weighing four pounds two ounces and sixteen inches long. About 30 seconds later David Kenneth **** was born weighing in at four pounds four ounces and sixteen and a half inches long. I couldn't tell if he cried, Greg was loud. They brought me David first. Oh my, what a scrawny pale thing. He was the same size as the hospital tissue box I found in my room an hour later. Then I saw Greg, he was beat red and man. Oh was the boy mad!!!
They whisked the boys off to the nicu. My twins were alive.
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