Wednesday, April 4, 2012

The Story of My Girls' Birth

Saturday night, March 10, we went out to dinner with Dave's family. After dinner, all of them came back to our house. Once they left, Dave and I CRASHED. We were so exhausted. We just sat on the couch like bumps on a log for about an hour watching mindless TV.

At about 10:15, I got up to get ready for bed, and first went in to pee. I literally peed for two minutes straight, which is weird because during the last few weeks I could feel like my bladder was going to explode and then only pee a teaspoon. So when I finished, I was already suspecting. The urine was cloudy and smelly. I put on a pad, stood up, and immediately soaked through it. I changed it, then went out to the living room. I said to Dave, "How does March 11 sound?" his eyes got SO big and he said nothing (just like when I told him it was twins!) I am still surprised that my water broke while I was on the toilet. Very convenient and no clean-up! There was no "pop" or "gush," but I knew since every time I changed position more leakage would occur.

Betsy came back over to our house to stay the night, and Dave and I woke Elle to tell her, though she didn't wake up enough to remember the conversation in the morning. Dave and I set off for the hospital, and real contractions joined us. Holy cow - the contractions came on strong and fast! I was in real pain, and had some of the most incompetent nurses ever! I had five attempts to put in an IV line, before they got it on the sixth try! Finally finally finally they came to get me to take me to the OR. They told us my bleeding risk was incredibly high, and warned us of blood transfusions and even possibly a hysterectomy. They said surgery would be at least two hours. (it's now about 1:45 am, Dave and I are so tired he can can hardly stand up, my contractions are killing me, and the clocks are "Springing Forward" one hour in fifteen minutes.) I got an epidural this time instead of a spinal block, because they wanted the flexibility of giving more should the surgery go badly.

I finally lay down on the table and they prep me, bring Davey in, and get started. It takes about 20 minutes before baby A (Adeline Quinn) comes out. We hear the faintest "mew," then they rush her over to her exam table. I can see everything they are doing. I can tell it is not good. They intubated her and literally had one of those bags over her mouth so they could breathe for her. No one on her team was saying a word, Addie was making no noise, and the team was rushing around looking panicked. Dave and I were terrified.

Then the doc pulls out baby B (Charlotte Baily) and she screams! That girl is teeny-tiny and she has some LUNG power! I laughed at her crying through my crying over fear about Addie. Charlie's team was laughing and joking and celebrating how great she was doing. Still no sound from Addie's side. They rushed both babies to the NICU, and that was that. While they finished up my surgery, which went incredibly well with minimal bleeding, Dave and I were left to worry with no answers.

We went to the recovery room, and Dave went off to find answers about Addie. They wouldn't tell him anything except "we're working on her." Every time someone walked past our recovery room, I was certain that they were coming in to tell us that Addie didn't make it. We were told that they needed an hour and a half to work on her, and only then could we call to see if they were ready to give us information.

Finally, Dave got to go to the NICU to see Charlotte and the docs let him in for a second to see Adeline. She squeezed his finger, and I know that's the first relief he felt. He came back to recovery to let me know.

Once I got my real room, the nursing staff turned from incompetent to incredible. Dave and I sat and worried and cried a bit and prayed. Every time we asked about Addie, we just kept getting vague answers, which was the scariest part.

We both took naps, then Dave headed home for real sleep. He was the guest conductor at a major Honor Orchestra concert that night, and he hadn't slept in well over 24 hours. I slept a bit, then fb'ed, texted and called friends and family. We didn't post anything on our walls, because we agreed that we didn't want to announce their births when we were unsure that Addie was going to be okay. My BFF Sue came to the hospital to see me, because Dave was home sleeping, Elle was at my in-laws, and my parents were on their way from Washington D.C. (My uncle who passed away in August was being laid to rest - cremated - at Arlington Cemetery on Monday, and they were in D.C. for that.)

So Sue came to hang out and she got to see the girls. Addie was finally stable! She had tubes coming out of every place, monitors covering her. Vikki showed up about a half an hour later. While we were down there, Addie really started doing well, and they took her off the respirator!

It turns out that ped's want babies taking less than 21 breaths per minute. Addie was taking 90. In order to keep her from going into respiratory fail, they had to do her breathing for her. Late that night, she finally hit only 20 breaths a minute. We are out of the danger zone now, and thanking all things good that our baby is okay!

The girls are beautiful, and they look just like Elliot did on her birth day. Their hair is more blonde than hers was on day one, though.

Dave did come from that initial trip to the NICU to see them with these words, "the girls are not identical." He had a smirk on his face. I immediately assumed a birthmark on one of their faces, or a strawberry hemangioma or something (Elle had a strawberry when she was born on her left ring finger.) But no, that wasn't it. Turns out our Charlie-girl has 11 fingers :) On her right hand she has an extra pinkie (which will be surgically removed when she's a bit bigger and could handle surgery)! It's called polydactyllism, and my nephew had it, too, in the form of 11 toes. It is supposedly not genetic, but that's awfully incredible.

So Dave had his concert last night which his parents and Elle went to, and my parents arrived at 4. Dave and fam arrived at 7. It was a very nice visit, and when everyone left for the night, Elle was a WRECK. She didn't want to go home without me, she was scared that I had to be in the hospital, and she didn't get to see the babies. (No one under 13 in the NICU because of flu season.) It was hard to see her have such a hard time, and my Mommy Guilt kicked in hard core.

Mom offered to stay all week, then fly home. Dad had to leave the next day with the car. As much as I wanted her to stay, there was no reason for her to stay now. She'll try to come out for a week when the babies come home instead. Dave was going to call in sick Monday, but I told him I'd rather he do that Wednesday, which is when I was to go home. (I went home Thursday instead, and Dave took Thursday and Friday.)

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