I know...but then I remember...

I know Julian isn't here. I understand that Julian is dead. I see his twin brother everyday, and I know I don't have my other precious baby. But sometimes it still doesn't seem real. It's like it never happened - like I never carried twins, gave birth to twins or held both of my boys, yet ended up with only one boy.

I think it doesn't always seem real because I have Jean-Luc. He is such an amazing baby and he makes me thankful everyday for all my children - and he does an amazing job of temporarily distracting me.

But there are times, when the the house is quite and my kids are sleeping, I'll glance at the photo display of ALL my babies and remember I have another beautiful baby boy. A baby boy who will always be my baby. And I remember (really remember) how I was supposed to have "my boys" - two babies.  I remember how I set up a nursery for two, bought matching outfits for two, and dreamed of my three children growing up together - but now I only have two children I can watch grow up.

It is when I am alone, I remember what I have lost. I look at Julian's pictures and realize I will never get to hold or touch my beautiful boy again. My heart starts to break over and over again. I start to feel guilty for almost forgetting (I never really forget, but some how I have long periods of feeling happy) and then I feel broken and sad. I hold his pictures and quietly sob and weep for the baby I will never be able to hold again, never be able to watch play with his lovely siblings, never be able to watch grow up and see the man he could have become. And then I get angry. I get furious and start to play the whole scenario over in my head, and I question the decisions I made the morning I delivered, I question the decisions the hospital made before and after the delivery - I just question and question. I know there is nothing I can do now to change the past, but I am not over what has happened and I will never be over what has happened.

I miss my boy everyday.

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow will be 100 days since my babies were born. Where did the time go?

I am so happy to be celebrating Jean-Luc's 100th day tomorrow, but as I sit here thinking about what tomorrow will be like, I'm suddenly starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with sadness. Something very important will be missing tomorrow - our dear Julian will not be here to celebrate 100 days with his lovely brother.

Losing one of our twins has been a roller coaster of sadness and happiness for me. I am constantly amazed, happy and smiling with my little Jean-Luc. And then I remember, something is missing - Julian. (Insert heavy sigh...life is so not fair sometimes.)

Happy 100 days Jean-Luc - we love you so much, thank you for making us smile every day for the last 100 days!

Julian - we will be thinking of you often tomorrow. We have loved and missed you for 100 days and will continue to do so forever more!

Part 3: My First Day as a Mother of 3

Once I arrived in postpartum I was greeted by the same nurse who looked after me when I had my daughter just two years prior. The nurse and I didn’t really mesh well the first time and I was a little disappointed that she was my nurse once again (I delivered in a pretty big hospital and the odds of getting the same nurse two years later seemed crazy). As I was wheeled into my room sans baby (in my case babies) I told my nurse I was going to rest just a bit before I went back to see my babies. She obviously was oblivious as to what had just happened and stated that I needed to rest and I could get up and see them in 8 hours. I was quietly furious and I silently cried alone in my room.

My parents had arrived as I was leaving recovery and my husband was taking them to try to see the babies as I was being settled in my room. Once they got back to my room, I burst into tears and told them that the nurse said I wouldn’t be able to see the babies for at least 8 hours and I was very upset about it. Either my husband or my mom went to the nursing station and must have said something to my nurse and the nursing staff, because once they knew our situation they were all a lot nicer to me.

We went through the whole ordeal with my parents multiple times. We were waiting for the team from Sickkids to arrive to take Julian to Sickkids hospital. My husband went back and forth between the babies and me while we waited. We were updated on Julian’s condition, he was alive but his blood pressure was still unable to remain stable, even after the special team from Sickkids arrived. They decided to move him to Sickkids despite still not having him in stable condition. They began prepping him for transport. As promised, they wheeled him to my room before he was taken downtown. He already looked less like the baby I had seen just a few hours before. When I first saw him he was alert and looking around, we made eye contact a few times and he was responsive to noise and my voice. The tiny baby they wheeled into my room looked even smaller, puffier, and absolutely covered in wires and monitors. I was in terrible pain from my c-section, but forced myself to sit up and lean over to touch Julian’s face and tell him I loved him. I once again said my goodbyes to my little boy. I was stuck in the hospital, I had just had a c-section, I had another baby in the NICU in the hospital I was in and I felt torn between my situation and my two babies. My husband was going to stay with me and Jean-Luc for the time being. The Sickkids team told us we would be updated on Julian’s condition when they arrived at the hospital and then we could call as frequently as we wanted to be updated by his nurse. I said my good-bye to Julian and told the paramedics to drive safely with my baby.

Julian leaving for Sickkids.

When I think back on everything, all I can feel is devastation. Our dreams and hopes for our two boys were crumbling before our eyes. We both knew deep down that Julian’s situation was bleak, 8 minutes flat line is not a good thing. We were clinging to the hope that we would receive a miracle. We hoped that while he was flat line for the 8 minutes he was still receiving oxygen while they were trying to resuscitate him, and hoped that he had not been without oxygen too long before he was born. When we first saw him he was looking at us and acting responsive – we just really hoped his brain was going to be ok. Because we both knew his survival depended on that as the main factor.

When he arrived at Sickkids we received positive news that while on transit to their hospital they were able to get his blood pressure up and keep it relatively stable. This was amazing news for us and our little guy. A few hours later we were able to talk to the head specialist on Julian’s case. She reported that by no means was he anywhere out of the woods, but things did look better. His blood pressure was up, he was breathing better than expected, and although still ventilated, he was breathing above the vent settings. She explained to us that cases, specific to Julians, need more time to determine the full extent of damage done. When a newborn loses oxygen at birth or prior to birth, they have a diving reflex. They protect their most vital organ, the brain, by directing all remaining oxygen and blood flow to that organ. If the brain is protected, brain damage can be avoided or if minimal brain damage occurs, often a newborn’s brain is able to compensate and find new ways to function. Our hope was that Julian’s brain had been protected. His other organs if damaged could heal with time and help, but if his brain had been compromised things would rapidly start to go downhill. At his admittance to Sickkids, his brain functions seemed ok. He was not experiencing any seizures and we still had hope, but only time would tell so we just had to wait it out. We decided my husband would go to Sickkids hospital to see Julian that evening. We were both very upset that he was alone there. So as soon as we could sort things out where we were, he was going to go downtown to be with our other little guy.

Sometime during the day (it may have been in the morning) we were told that Julian had suffered a full placental abruption. Another blog I follow has a good description of placental abruption so I’ll post the link here: http://brodysfrogblog.blogspot.ca/p/placental-abruption.html . I suffered a class 3 separation. (I am sure I will write about this again, there are so many things about the placental abruption that infuriate me, haunt me and make me question “why?”) Essentially, Julian bled out. By the time he was born he had lost more than 50% of his blood. As Julian’s tiny body continued to lose blood, inevitably his body no longer had enough blood circulating in his system to carry fresh nutrients to his cells and organs. His body began to shut down because his organs were starved of oxygen, and because there was no blood supply to carry away toxins that built up, his organs suffered further damage. Although he was alive, we were waiting still waiting to see the extent of damage done to his little body.

My parents brought our daughter to the hospital to see me in the evening on January 12^th. Throughout my pregnancy, although not yet 2 years old, she seemed to understand there were two babies growing inside of me. She would correct people when they asked about the baby in mommy’s belly and say “babies, there are 2 babies”. But when she arrived at the hospital I didn’t know what to tell her, would she remember or even understand? We decided to just take her in to see Jean-Luc in the NICU, and wait to tell her about Julian. It seemed as if she forgot there were 2 babies when she laid eyes on her little brother, so we left it at that for the moment. It was sad that I was unable to be with her when she saw her brother for the first time. I was still in my hospital room and hadn’t even seen him since the morning myself. The whole situation was not at all how I envisioned introducing my boys to my daughter.

Our daughter meeting Jean-Luc.

By the time my husband was able to get downtown to Julian, it was close to midnight. He was getting very upset that he couldn’t be there with Julian and was torn about leaving us, but he finally got to Sickkids to be with our other little boy. He spent time with him, touched him and talked to him. He took pictures to bring back to me and told our little guy to hold on and be strong. He also got an update on Julian’s condition. I recently found a note in my husband’s bedside table of the health update he brought back to me.

The note reads:

Glucose – down but better, may be due to liver, upped glucose

EEG – normal, no seizures, slightly depressed

Brain Monitoring – a few slight blips, may be nothing, given an anticonvulsant just in case

Heart – Normal, just weak (may be due to chest compressions), on an epi drip not close to max dose just to keep blood pressure up

Blood Pressure – Normal range

MRI – maybe tomorrow

Intubated – Likely unnecessary but comfortable so keeping it in for MRI, out in 48 hours

Other notes – pooping up a storm, very active and responsive, breast milk as early as Saturday, kidneys ok so far

My husband visiting Julian at Sickkids.

This information was very positive and I was able to get some sleep that night. I knew he wasn’t out of the woods, but we both thought things were improving and we were hopeful.

Meeting my little Julian and saying good-bye to follow.

Part 2: The Delivery of the Twins - A Living Nightmare

Once I was on the operating table I knew it would only be a short while until my boys were born. I was getting really uncomfortable from my contractions and I couldn’t wait to get my epidural so the pain would stop. The anesthesiologist seemed to be taking FOREVER, I don’t know if it was forever but it sure felt like it. I had had an epidural with my first delivery and the first time the anesthesiologist was really quick, this woman was just taking so long. I also remember there were alarms going off in the room, one of the baby warming beds was alarming and the nurses and doctors were joking about it. Again, everything in the room projected a pretty calm atmosphere, yes they were moving quickly, but there didn’t seem to be any indication that anything was going to be wrong or go wrong.

I remember drinking some kind of liquid for stomach acid, laying down, having the separation curtain raised, feeling something cold being spread on my abdomen and then the doctor cutting. I remember saying “where is my husband” and a nurse saying “her husband isn’t in here doctor”. The doctor replied that it was too late and he had already started. I could feel the doctor cutting and I told him I could feel it, he asked if I could feel pain and I couldn’t so he kept going. I felt layers of tissue being cut and separated and then pulling and pushing and then some pressure. While the doctor was working on taking baby A out I felt baby B kick me in the ribs.

At this point I was pretty scared to be laying cut open on a table all alone (it was nothing like caesarean sections on TV with the dad or support person by you). I didn’t even have a nurse holding my hand. I had arrived at the hospital scared because of the amount of blood there was when my water broke. They had detected two heart beats and seemed not to be overly rushing my section – so at this point I can say I honestly thought things were going to be ok. But they were not ok. The next moments changed my life in the most devastating way forever. Baby A was delivered at 5:18am and I listened for a cry – nothing. Nothing from my baby was followed by the dreadful words that will haunt me forever, “Baby A is flat line”. My first thoughts were ‘great my baby is dead, now what?’ At that point I was given something to pretty much numb my mind, I was there but at the same time I was not there. A brief glimpse of a paper white coloured baby flashed beside me, followed by a room full of chaos. All I could see was a sea of legs, people rushing over to the baby warmer and crowding around my baby. I kept hearing “push (amount) of epinephrine”, followed by “push another (amount) of epi”, there was no crying in the room just panic and chaos. During the chaos I know a code pink was called, someone was asking about the cord clamp and where it was or if it was there – I still don’t know what that means.

At 5:21am baby B was delivered, I didn’t know it because nothing was ever announced due to the chaos surrounding baby A. I was laying there just wondering what the hell had just happened and what was still happening. Everyone in the room was focused on something. Although I had physically not been forgotten as there was a doctor up to his elbows in my abdomen, I was definitely mentally and emotionally forgotten about. I knew I had been kicked by baby B while baby A was being delivered, so what about my other baby, was he alive or dead? I remember calling out “what is going on, can somebody please tell me what is happening?” It was the anesthesiologist who explained to me that baby A was delivered and was not breathing and his heart had stopped beating but they had his heart beating again and they were helping him breath. Then she told me that baby B was born and other then needing a little help breathing, he was doing fine. So both babies were alive – good. I don’t remember much from being told this news to arriving in recovery, to talking to a nurse and seeing my husband.

While I was in recovery, both babies were taken to the NICU. I hadn’t seen either of them. My husband came in to see me and we were told that baby A was born flat line. Was flat line for 8 minutes before they were able to get his heart beating again and that he was now in the NICU with a team of nurses. He was ventilated and he had lost more than 50% of his blood at birth. He needed a blood transfusion and they were waiting for special infant blood from Sickkids hospital. They were also waiting for a special team to transport him to Sickkids hospital. Because of the blood loss, they were having a very difficult time getting his blood pressure up and they were unable to keep it stable. I listened to the news, I knew what they were saying, and I knew it was bad, but he was alive and I didn’t know what to think. I honestly didn’t know if he would survive or die, but I was so happy to hear he was alive and that he was going to get the best care possible.

We were also told that baby B was doing fine, that he was on a c-pap machine – just in case he needed some help breathing. My husband was told he could go see them and I would be able to see them when I could move my feet and be moved out of recovery. I had also lost a lot of blood during the delivery and my body temperature had dropped. I remember shivering profusely, but willing my feet and legs to move so I could see my babies. It was torture laying in that bed, waiting to see my boys. Especially not knowing if one of them would survive or not, not knowing if I would ever get to see him alive. My husband went into see the boys and took the camera so he could take pictures and bring them back to me. While I was waiting, one nurse (the one who said she had detected two heartbeats when I arrived) came in, the look on her face made me feel like everything was NOT going to be ok, she couldn’t even make eye contact with me. Finally my husband came back. He looked horrible, like a truck had hit him. I asked him what was happening and he told me that Julian (baby A) was having a really hard time with his blood pressure and they were unable to wait for the infant blood, so they started the blood transfusion with regular blood. He showed me the pictures. Julian looked very pale in the pictures. He was ventilated and had bloodshot eyes. Jean-Luc (twin B), looked even scarier to me. The c-pap machine (which is really just air over the nostrils) was strapped on his head and just looked really scary.

About two hours after my c-section, I was able to be wheeled into the NICU to see the babies. They took me to see Julian first. I thought he was the “ok” baby, he looked prefect. I was told that he was in fact baby A, I couldn’t believe that my little guy, who looked so perfect could be struggling so hard to stay alive. I was able to touch him and talk to him. My bed made a loud noise and he startled to the noise and looked at me. I was so happy to see him respond to the noise, it meant his brain was functioning. I said my hellos and goodbyes and they promised to bring him to me in my room before he was taken to Sickkids.

My Julian - looking at mommy and showing me his beautiful eyes.

They then took me to see Jean-Luc, he was also perfect. He was crying and mucus was bubbling out. He was pink and squirming. He was perfect and warm. I was able to touch and stroke him. The nurses told me he was doing great and I was so happy that my little Jean-Luc was so strong and doing so well.

Jean-Luc meeting mommy.

I was then taken to my room in the postpartum ward.

I will post the first day in the hospital after the delivery of the twins in another post.

Once again another Friday the 13th

The days and weeks following Julian's death passed very quickly, yet also very slowly. I don't know how to exactly describe what it felt and still feels like, but it always feels like he just died but at the same time like it happened a long time ago.

At first I counted by how many days it had been since Julian died, then it was how many weeks, which has turned into months. I think about him everyday, but the last few weeks I have been paying less attention the the dates since it happened. Just as I have been loosing track of time with how many weeks/months old his brother is (it is a bit sad - until now every Thursday has marked another week older for Jean-Luc and then I remember that the next day means it will also be another week since his brother, my other sweet baby has died).

Today kind of hit me hard unexpectedly. Today is the last day I will count in weeks from the birth and death, from now on I'll remember in months, until the two year mark, then it will be remembered in years. Today also happens to be another Friday the 13th, not that I believe in any superstitions in regards to the date - but it still sucks. It sucks that my baby died on a Friday the 13th and that every Friday the 13th will be another reminder of this.

So yesterday my little Jean-Luc turned 3 months old - where does the time go? He is such a good little man.

At three months he is:

• smiling
• ohhhing and awwhhhing
• still breast feeding exclusively
• sleeping from 12am-6:30'ish pretty consistently
• batting at toys
• napping like a champ
• hating tummy time (like his sister did)

Jean-Luc you are an amazing, happy and joyful baby. We love you so much, you and your sister bring a smile to us multiple times a day, every single day. I have loved every night feed, every poopie diaper and even the time you spit up in my mouth. We are looking forward to every moment with you.

Jean-Luc at 3 months.

Julian, it has been three months today since you died. We miss you everyday and think of you often. I tell you sister and your brother about you, they have no idea what I am talking about right now, but one day they will and they will know you were here and you were loved. You brought me happiness and I loved every minute I got to carry and then hold you. Some days I am still very sad that I can't have you here with me, you showed me how precious life is. And your sister and brother continue to remind me of how special life is everyday, and how we all need to live our lives to the fullest and enjoy our time together.

Julian

We love you sweet boy.

Love your Mommy

Part 1: The Background Story: From Conception to Delivery

My husband and I found out we would need significant help trying to conceive in 2008. We had our first round of IVM in the spring of 2009 and we were very lucky to have success on the first round. We found out we were expecting our first baby, and after a very normal and uneventful pregnancy (other than some morning sickness), I gave birth on January 28^th, 2010 to our daughter.

When our daughter turned one - we decided that we would try again for another baby. Almost exactly two years after conceiving our daughter, we had success with our second round of IVM. We found out I was pregnant in June 2011. At our 8 week ultrasound we learned we got doubly lucky and were expecting twins. We were immediately excited to be expecting two babies – it was multiple dreams come true. We joked that we were getting a “two for one” deal with our latest round of fertility treatment. We began dreaming about all the fun things we would get to experience as parents of twins and started counting down the days till we would get to meet our new babies.

Every week that went by I hoped everything was progressing normally with our twins and dreamed of our future family of five. Since our positive pregnancy test I was concerned something might happen and I would miscarry. I had the same fear with my daughter, I was just worried something might go wrong. After learning we were having twins at the 8 week ultrasound, I had something else to worry about – I was then concerned about two babies. I now worried I would lose one or both of the twins. Our next ultrasound was at 11 weeks, I was so happy to see two beating heartbeats and to learn that everything was looking normal and progressing exactly how it was supposed to. At twelve weeks we broke the news that we were having twins to our family, friends and anyone else who wanted to know. My grandmother had twins, so my family was especially excited to have another set of twins.

Rewind a few weeks – at 6 weeks with the twins we had our first pregnancy scare. I was driving home from my parent’s house and was having some significant pain in my lower abdomen. It got progressively worse and I made the decision to go to the ER and have it checked out. After a night of waiting and an ultrasound I found out I had some ovarian cysts (left over from the fertility treatment) that had ruptured and caused the pain. This trip to the ER is when we actually found out we were going to have twins. I had suspected it was twins from our first blood test when my HCG levels were significantly higher than when I was pregnant with my daughter.

At 15 weeks we had our next pregnancy scare – I got up to go to the bathroom in the evening and discovered I had started bleeding at some point and hadn't noticed. I was terrified again that we were going to lose either one or both of the babies. Another trip to the ER, both heart beats were detected and both babies were moving. The ultrasound showed no problems with the placentas – so we were sent home and told everything looked fine. The source of the bleeding was never determined and it was dismissed as nothing serious (I will comment further on this later).

From 15 – 27 weeks my pregnancy progressed normally, like any average twin pregnancy. I was physically bigger from carrying two babies and had significantly more discomfort carrying two little ones, but other than that nothing out of the ordinary. We found out we were expecting two boys on September 20^th, the day before my birthday. We were convinced that it was going to be a girl and a boy, but when I was told it was two boys I was over the moon happy!

At my 27^th week prenatal appointment we were told something unusual on our last twin ultrasound showed up and we needed to see a fetal medicine specialist. There was some concern with on of the twins ventricle measurements. We were told he had mild and isolated ventriculomegaly. We saw the fetal medicine specialist 4 times, and at every visit it showed that his vent measurements were decreasing and at our final visit they were once again in the normal category. Once again I was over the moon happy and felt like we had won the lottery, it was December 23^rd and I got all I wanted for Christmas – I was told my baby was fine and looked great. In fact, I was told both boys looked great, strong, big and ready for their arrival in the New Year. I was once again excited. For awhile I was very worried something might once again go wrong and I might lose one of my precious boys or that something might be seriously wrong with one of my babies. But no, everything was going to be just fine – the fetal medicine specialist said so.

The New Year came and I really started my countdown to the boys’ arrival. My goal was 36 weeks (Jan 20^th) and my actual due date was Feb 17^th. I was getting pretty excited and uncomfortable but also a little sad that my pregnancy was coming to an end. I really do love being pregnant despite complaining about being uncomfortable. The last day I was pregnant with my boys was January 11^th, I can remember almost every detail from the day.

The Last Day I was Pregnant with My Boys

January 11^th, 2012:

My mom is coming for the day and I’m looking forward to some time out with her, and getting a few last minute items that I need. I am getting pretty uncomfortable and don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to go out to run such errands. I take my time in the morning, get my daughter ready, she eats breakfast and watches her shows. I eat and then take a picture of my huge belly on Instagram and comment on how huge I feel I am getting.

This is the last happy picture of me pregnant.

My mom arrives and we decide we are going to take my daughter skating. We drive to the park. While we are at the skating park I comment that once the boys arrive we will be able to walk downtown with the big stroller again (by this point I wasn’t able to walk very far at all). After skating we went to Wal-Mart, I wanted to buy diapers since they were on sale. I called my husband to ask how many boxes I should get and we joked about having two poopy bums to change multiple times a day. I rode in the electric scooter thing (embarrassed by it) at Wal-Mart, because like I said, I couldn’t walk very far. We went to lunch at Wendy’s, it was a very mild January day. There was a guy on a motorcycle parked beside us and my daughter pointed to it and called it a robot – finally I understood why she kept telling me she saw robots when she looked out the window (she had the two confused). We came home and put her down for a nap. My mom started to prepare dinner (can’t remember what it was) and I relaxed in the basement and finished watching Midnight in Paris while my dad played on his tablet. My husband came home. We ate and then all went down to the skating park again so my daughter could show off her new skating skills. I was pretty uncomfortable (nothing unusual about that) but managed to walk to the coffee shop after everyone was done skating . I ordered a milk and a macadamia nut cookie, my daughter ate a chocolate chip cookie and then we walked back to our van. We said our goodbyes to my parents and went home. We put our daughter to bed and I went down to the basement and uploaded the pictures from the day on facebook. I surfed the net a bit and went to bed just before midnight. When I went to bed that night I had no idea that would be my last night I was pregnant with the boys, I had no idea something would or could be or go wrong. I was just a tired mommy getting ready to sleep and planning to dream about my beautiful babies that were so close to making their arrival into this world. My husband came to bed a bit after me and we both fell asleep.

The Boys Are Coming

January 12^th, 2012:

I can’t remember what the exact time it was, but sometime around 3:30am I woke up to a popping sound (same as when my water broke with my daughter). I reached down and felt wetness. My first thought was “it’s too soon”, but one day shy of 35 weeks would be fine, just a little time in the NICU. I woke my husband up right away and told him my water had broken and he needed to turn on the light. Once the light was on any excitement I might have felt regarding the arrival of my babies was gone immediately. When I reached down we noticed that the wetness I was feeling between my legs was blood, very dark red blood. I panicked and asked my husband to go get a towel, he did and I managed to stand up. We decided we would just get our daughter and go to the hospital. He woke her up and I spouted instructions to get her and our bags, cameras, wallets and phones into the car – while I was quickly getting clothes on to go. We called my father-in-law to tell him we were dropping our daughter off and I remember throwing my pj pants into a bag so I could show the nurses how much blood there was.

We dropped our daughter off and drove to the hospital. I had no pain and no contractions. We were very worried about the amount of blood, but were trying to convince each other that everything was ok and we just needed to get to the hospital. We arrived at the hospital just around 4am, once the hospital was in view my contractions started and they were coming fast and hard. On the drive over I was trying to look up the labour and delivery number on my iphone so I could call and warn them that I was on my way. But I couldn’t find the number on the hospital website or with a Google search. I got frustrated and figured we would be there in less than 10 minutes and gave up. (Again something I will discuss later.) We parked the car and entered though the ER. We had to flag someone down to open the doors to the L&D elevator, got up to L&D and used the phone to get someone to buzz us in, but no one was picking up the phone so my husband started banging on the door until someone let us in. We told the nurses I was 34w5d with twins and my water broke in bed and there was a lot of dark red blood. They put me in a room right away and called a doctor to come. They had me change into a gown and were asking a bunch of questions and had me sign some forms. I remember showing them my pj pants when they asked how much blood and they looked a little shocked and commented that it was a lot of blood. They got a portable ultrasound machine in the room and hooked me up to fetal heart rate monitors. The doctor still wasn’t there, but they confirmed that they had both babies’ heart beats – huge sigh of relief from both my husband and me. The doctor came in and was asking questions and said he needed to check my dilation. By this point my contractions were less than two minutes apart and were very strong. I was told I was dilated to 5cm, not surprising since my first labour and delivery was incredibly quick. The doctor did a quick ultrasound and said he thought an emergency c-section would be best. I agreed, mainly because my labour pain was so bad at the time - I knew that if I had the section my pain would go away faster. I had planned for a vaginal delivery and was originally against a c-section, but was willing to do whatever they told me was best. They seemed concerned at the time, but not overly concerned – so I felt more at ease and mentally prepped myself for having a c-section. They took my blood work, told me they were prepping the OR and that they were going to be getting my husband ready to come into the OR. Once again, I felt a little more reassured that everything was going to be ok. It couldn’t be that serious because they were planning on doing the section while a was awake and my husband was in the OR. I knew if it was a real emergency they would just knock me out and he wouldn’t be allowed in – I really thought everything was going to be just fine. They wheeled me into the OR and asked me to move onto the operating table.

This is the LAST picture while still pregnant, waiting on the OR table. I had no idea what was about to happen, my husband was waiting in the hall, all gowned up and waiting to come in. But that never happened.

I will post the delivery and birth of my twins in another post.