After exactly one year, I am sharing with the world David and Harrison's birth story. And my story.
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It was some time after 3:00 AM on June 29th when I woke up and had to use the bathroom. It was a regular occurrence. Everything was fine except when I exited the bathroom - I felt a funny feeling. I checked again and saw that my mucus plug had come out (something that blocks bacteria from getting to your babies – sorry for the gross pregnancy lingo). They say that once that happens it’s time to go to the hospital. I was so excited and scared in one moment I quickly yelled for Dave to get up and call Labor and Delivery. It was in my contact list ready to be called.
They told me to come in and even though my “hospital bag” was pretty much packed we didn’t get to the hospital until around 4:30 AM.
They monitored me for a few hours and Dave decided to go into work because we were used to false alarms and being sent home. They told me I was having regular contractions, so they admitted me. They took me to a delivery room and gave me a shot under my arm that would slow my contractions. Soon after, it made me feel like I had the flu. They said that was normal. They wanted to keep the babies in me as long as they could, which meant I would have to stay medicated in the hospital until the boys were born. Then they took my vitals and plugged one IV into my arm and another into my other wrist. One was dripping magnesium sulfate, a more effective way to stop contractions, and the other was just there for other uses.
I was a little unnerved thinking about how long I could be in there for, but I was mostly excited that things were happening and I was being taken care of.
Dave packed some stuff from home to sleep with and came back to the hospital. As long as I stayed there he would stay there.
I soon found out that the magnesium sulfate drip was similar to a torture device:
It not only relaxes your contractions, but all the muscles in your body, so in just a few hours I could’t even stand up by myself. It also meant they had to put saline in my body regularly. There was so much fluid pumping into my body I swelled up bigger than I would ever think my skin could stretch. I could barely move my feet. The pores on my legs were stretched open and my skin stung to the touch. I had to wear an ice pack in my crotch, and every time they switched it out I could see that my fluid-filled legs formed around it and would stay that way when removed. Instead of getting a catheter I decided I wanted the little toilet seat on wheels… It was my way of getting up a few times a day. I had to very slowly and painfully get to the edge of the bed and be lifted up onto the seat and go to the bathroom while the frame around it pressed into my legs and hips. I also had to wear cuffs that went from my ankles to my knees that filled and released air similar to a blood pressure cuff in order to keep my legs from getting blood clots, which they had to take off every time I got up. Luckily those didn’t hurt - it was kind of nice actually.
The first day (Saturday the 29th) they were giving me a large, constant dose of the magnesium sulfate and the shot under my arm every few hours, so that was probably the worst day. All they would let me consume was water and popsicles. Orange popsicles were like a glimpse of heaven in that hospital room. I made sure I always had a spare by my bed. I’ll never look at them the same way again.
Throughout the night and next morning my contractions started to slow, which meant two things: they would lower my dose, and I would get to eat food again. I was so tired I didn’t wake up any of the times they took my vitals over night. The nurse came in and helped me go to the bathroom, brush my teeth (which caused me to vomit), and wash my body off.
Then they brought in some breakfast. All I remember eating were the most perfect and delicious white rolls in the universe. Their other food wasn’t good, so I ordered lots of popsicles and rolls.
The day went on and I only saw the doctor once or twice for a couple minutes. My blood was drawn at least once a day. They had to find a new spot to put the needle every time and they screwed up a lot, leaving me with little bruises and band-aids.
Later on Dave and I watched a movie on TV and his parents visited and brought some yummier snacks. Skyping my family that night was a little depressing. My mom had already changed her flight once and she couldn’t do it again so she was stuck at home till the end of the week. She was basically panicking through it all, but it was nice seeing home.
The next morning (Monday, July 1st) they lowered the dose again and by the afternoon I was at the lowest dose. I was feeling much more myself because I wasn’t getting the flu-inducing shot anymore.
Finally in the evening the doctor came in and told the nurse to take out the Magnesium Sulfate drip and move us up to the long-term stay floor. It was good and bad news: one of my arms would be free from a needle and tube, but we were moving further away from delivery. Also, the nurses were older up there - not very nice - and the rolls weren’t as good.
Since the magnesium sulfate wasn’t slowly pumping into my body anymore I was able to get up and use the restroom by myself, and even shower. Although, I was still so huge and weak that Dave had to help me while I held onto a rail (the one IV left in my arm was wrapped).
Despite my clean hair and lotioned skin, it was dark and lonely in the newly renovated upstairs rooms with small windows and mean nurses. I felt helpless. I cried a lot. Luckily Dave was there to cry on and cheer me up.
His parents decided to come visit and let Dave go get some dinner and stuff from home. It was late in the evening by the time he got back. He gave me some food and we watched a movie until we were ready to sleep. I was so uncomfortable and depressed that I decided to pray. I prayed and sobbed.
“ Heavenly Father, I have been through so much. I am miserable and exhausted and I need to get out of here. Please help me. I can’t do this anymore. I want to see my babies. Please help me. ”
I fell asleep.
At about 4:00 AM I woke up from painful contractions. I called the nurse in and they said I was 3 cm dilated and they’d bring me back downstairs. I wanted to laugh, cry, shout for joy, but I was too tired. So I just smiled.
Finally I was in an even bigger delivery room than before (with a huge window), doctors and nurses were taking care of me, and the boys were coming.
The sun started coming up and Dave started videotaping again and playing what we decided was their song:
I dilated slowly throughout the afternoon, but not far enough to get the epidural yet so they gave me a shot that “won’t get rid of all the pain, but you just won’t care.” Hmmmm, okay? And they were right - I was still feeling things but instead of hurting, I became loopy and excited. Did they just give me street drugs?
And I could still eat popsicles! I was happy.
They did an ultrasound and the boys were both head down, which was crazy because Harrison was always head up. Two head-down babies means you can have a safe vaginal delivery. I hadn’t even read that much about vaginal delivery nor did I take any classes throughout my entire pregnancy because I expected a C-section.
So I tried to mentally prepare myself for vaginal delivery.
They gave me the epidural a couple hours later, and by dinner time the first water broke and the doctor said that I could try pushing any time.
After a few minutes of figuring out the whole pushing with your butt and not your face thing, Dave said he could see the baby’s hair. I tried to see it and obviously failed.
They rolled me over to the ER (multiple-baby births have to happen in the ER) with a baby’s head part-way out of my body and in what seemed to be 5 minutes, baby David was born.
So much relief came after that final push (and I was so distracted by the whole process and congratulating myself) that when I heard David’s little cry it actually took me a second to realize what it was. I looked around and then it hit me - that’s my son! He’s a little person and he’s mine. His little voice was so beautiful I cried and laughed at the same time. I sat up and watched him.
The doctor said I had to start pushing for the next baby but I had to take a moment and just breathe. I tried to touch him as he rolled by. They were taking him to the NICU.
I sat there for a little while just absorbing the moment.
Then I started pushing again to get Harrison down so they could break his water. After a few very exhausting minutes baby Harrison was born. There was the next beautiful cry.
I watched his little red face and limbs as he was cleaned off. Hearing and watching him I could already tell them apart. I lay there and cried. I wanted to hold him so badly.
He rolled away.
The nurses congratulated me while I was cleaned up by the doctor and lifted back onto my bed. After all the boys were out of the room I realized how bright the lights were - it was like trying to open my eyes directly under the sun. So I kept my eyes closed the rest of the time. Dave went back to the room with me and took me in a wheelchair to the NICU where I finally held my boys. I held them each on my skin for a while. I was glad the nurses hadn’t bathed them yet. I wanted to stay with them all night but I was so tired my eyes were practically swelled shut.
I was taken back up to my room and still somehow I couldn’t sleep until 1 am. But when I did, I slept a long, wonderful sleep.
