Birth Story

As September, NICU awareness month, comes to an end I feel it to be fitting to finally write my and my sons’ birth story.


To be honest it’s hard to pick where their birth began as their pregnancy was complicated and in a way our first surgery caused their birth to happen. Around their 22nd week we had to undergo TTTS surgery; the doctors at John’s Hopkins had to laparoscopically go into my uterus and cauterize the shared vessels on their placenta. Statistically when this surgery is done the placenta only can sustain itself for another 10 weeks. I didn’t want to become part of that statistic but I had no control over the outcome.


I forget which week our MFM decided for me to come in twice a week to check in on all of us but during my 32nd week I was in for my biweekly visit. I had a bad feeling the day before because a) I was going to be alone b) it was at the office in Midlothian, an office that was almost 30 minutes away instead of 15 and c) I was not seeing my regular MFM doctor, a woman I had grown very comfortable with and who was very good at keeping my anxiety at bay.


SO while at this visit I was telling the doctor how I was experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions but they weren’t all the time etc etc and I wasn’t too worried.


The MFM looked at my stomach and said
“Sweetie, your uterus is contracting right now. Is that painful?” Which I responded “Well actually this is pretty uncomfortable..more so than the other times my stomach looked like this....”


I was sent immediately to the hospital. I had to drive myself 30 minutes to the hospital knowing something wasn’t quite right at 32 weeks. All I kept telling myself was “I KNEW SOMETHING WAS GOING TO GO WRONG TODAY.”


I made it to my hospital where my husband was able to meet me and turned out I was dilated and my uterus was going through contractions. They admitted me for preterm labor. I got Magnesium to stop the contractions and had the fetal monitors strapped to the boys. The worst part of all this was that I couldn’t get out of bed so I couldn’t do anything to help alleviate the pain. I had to stay for 3 nights that week and the first night I had to be all by myself because someone had to be with Daisy, our fur baby. I cried that night at one point because I could still feel contractions and my biggest worry was that I would be alone and would go into labor or I would be alone and there would be some kind of emergency surgery. My nurse was so sweet and did her best to calm me and told me I wasn’t alone and that she would be there for anything I needed.


My parents rushed down to help us out with Daisy so my husband didn’t have to run back and forth to the house and could be by my side. After almost all contractions stopped I was transferred to the postpartum wing for some quiet. This was when we realized I was in a bit of a catch 22. Sometimes when a women’s bladder is TOO full it pushes on the uterus and it can cause contractions. However, if a woman is dehydrated it can ALSO cause contractions. I was stuck in the middle of how much water can I drink to not be dehydrated but also not fill my bladder up too much. Needless to say it was a bit annoying 😅. With this information I was allowed to go home when my uterus was only contracting due to water issues.


I was able to make my other biweekly appointment later that week. Everything seemed fine at that appointment until we left the appointment. There was one thing that was slightly off (to be honest I can’t remember what is was) so after we were told I was good to go my MFM said “HOLD ON I’d like everything to be perfect! Send her back to the hospital”. I wasn’t going through contractions but there was something that needed to be monitored with the babies so I spent about 4-5 hours in a hospital bed. A doctor who had checked on me during my first visit as nicely as she could told me to expect these babies sooner than my 35 week induction. I still tried to stay positive when we were going home.


That weekend (Friday and Saturday) my back was killing me because my uterus was contracted most of the time. We both thought it was because of EVERYTHING I just went through—I was checked multiple time for dilation which irritates a women’s uterus. So we thought not much of my uncomfortableness. We also tried to not be alarmed by the difference of fluids and such because well again when you check dilatation it changes the natural course.


That Sunday morning however I had a gut feeling that what I was seeing wasn’t “normal” and my doula said if you feel that something is wrong go to the hospital to make sure—SO again we were off the to hospital. On the ride there I told my husband “They’re coming today.” He dropped me off and I waddled up to L&D where I could feel myself leaking. The nurses saw my distress and were fantastic at smiling and just helping me get to the room. When my husband finally made it up my water completely broke and I started freaking out because I knew they’d be in the NICU no matter what since I was only 33 weeks and 3 days.


I still had hope that maybe I would deliver so I told them to put my IV’s on my arm in a spot that wouldn’t be bothersome. During this time though the doctor came in and was noticing that Harrison’s heartbeat kept dropping and he was in distress. At first they thought it was my position and had me lay on my side but the distressing information kept happening. This was when we were told they had to rush my to the OR for an emergency cesarean. This was not even close to how I wanted my pregnancy to end. I had surrendered to the idea of a planned cesarean at some point; where we would be able to do skin to skin, delay a bath and coed cut etc. But emergency I wasn’t sure what was about to happen to me. Luckily one of my fellow doula trainees was working at that time and held my hand and promised me everything was going to be okay. I just had a feeling that somehow the universe was working the way it was suppose to with that coincidence. I was rolled to the OR signed the release and was put under.


The next thing I knew I was waking up back in the L&D room, and my husband was sitting there holding his coffee. I had no babies to hold. I had no memory of them coming into this world. We both didn’t even know what they looked like—we just knew they were in the NICU and they were “born” in about 7-8 minutes. I cried. I cried a lot. I knew they wouldn’t be home with us for at least a month. They wouldn’t be in my arms on my first mother’s day. However, we heard they were doing great, and what happened was my placenta ruptured as the statistics said it would and Harrison swallowed some blood and that’s why he decided to get out.


When I was ready hey rolled me into the NICU to see them. I first was able to see Harrison. He was so small yet so big to me; he held my finger with a tight grip and I knew he was a fighter. Then I got to see Julian and he was this little chunk. We visited them every day till they came home. It was amazing to hear how well they did with each visit, and it was amazing to see them get more and more conscious.


It is true that what matters most is that they were and are healthy babies, but I still mourn the birth I wished to have—where I labor and breathe and get to see them enter this world. There is a pain that is hard to explain when people come to the hospital room and all you have is yourself to show. Yes people are glad to see you but you know you don’t have what they came to see; your baby or babies.


Luckily that time feels so far away, and my boys are just SO happy when they get the proper naps 😂