Birth Story, in honor of their 1 month birthday

On Monday, December 17, 2012, I was 36 weeks pregnant with the twins and went to work just like I did the other days in December, except just my normal day, not subbing for my teaching partner (thankfully things were getting better for her son following his kidney transplant surgery). I left earlier than usual because I had my usual weekly appointment and NST, just a littler earlier than usual. As I neared the hospital, looked a long time for parking and walked into L&D, I noticed some contractions, but nothing unusual.

Today, instead of getting out my computer, the nurse set me up with some 90's sitcoms: Everybody Love Raymond, Seinfeld, and Friends. After watching 2 shows, the nurse comes in and says "You're having contractions. Can you feel them?" I said I was, of course, but it was nothing unusual. "They are pretty regular, so we are going to check you for dilation and give you an IV of fluids to make sure you are well hydrated (and eliminate dehydration as the cause of the contractions). If you get to 3 cm, you will have the babies today." I was checked (quite painfully!) and learned I was 1 cm dilated, and everything wasn't "lined up" yet, so I wasn't worried. For those who have never had a baby or been checked for dilation, 1 cm isn't much, and you can be at 1 cm weeks before you deliver, and stay at 1 cm for a long time. I wasn't worried, but I thought I should let my teaching partner and my husband know. (Think it's funny that I tell Holly before Brooks? She has to sub for me, so she'd better know plenty in advance! :)

So I sit and enjoy 2 more episodes that take me back to my high school and college days, and pay close attention to my contractions. I counted them: one, two, three. That's it. Three. One was a good one, but then they just stopped. Yup--just another false alarm. The nurse comes back and I checks me again. Only slightly less painful, the nurse, with a touch of red on the tip of her purple exam glove, looks at me like I'm crazy and says, "You're having these babies today!"

WHAT?!??!?

Yes, I was at 3 cm already. Three contractions later, and I'm on the books for a cesarean tonight. Then I learned that I was the 3rd woman who was 36 weeks pregnant with twins to be having a c-section that day. What are the chances of that? Why a c-section? Both babies were breech, and they confirmed it via ultrasound before they prepped me for surgery.

Anyway, I call Brooks, Holly, and our doula, Deb Lawrence to let them know. Brooks works on getting child care arranged, Holly gets the notice to get ready to start subbing for me, and Deb asks me if I want her to come. I'm frantic, but trying not to show it, realizing it's about 3:30 on a Monday afternoon, and it's a crazy time at our house. I tried to help Brooks with child care by calling my dad to ask him to help out, but it only made me more uneasy. Getting my mind ready for this major surgery and all that was quickly happening, I was eager to have a friend by my side while I waited for Brooks to arrive, whenever that would be. Why a doula (birthing coach, which helped me have Elliott and Erin without an epidural) for a c-section? Deb's first baby had to be delivered via c-section, so she had experience and wisdom to pass on to me, and she's a comforting Christian friend that I trusted. It was a good move. It took a while for Brooks to make it out, and Deb told me what to expect, step-by-step. The part I remember most was when she asked me how I do with anesthesia, but I've never surgery before, so I've only had that one epidural with Jillian (that I didn't like), so I didn't know. Her next question was asking me how I handle alcoholic beverages. I am a super-lightweight when it comes to drinking, and I hardly ever drink, either, so she said that I should tell the anesthesiologist that--that's good info for her to know.

After Brooks finally arrived, it was about 5:00. Dr. Moreira would be down to see me after office hours ended, so it would be anytime at this point. And, my contractions had totally stopped as far as I knew. In the meantime, I got the ultrasound to confirm that both babies were breech, so c-section was necessary, and got some "surgery prep work" done (I'll spare you the details). Because I had eaten lunch, and you're supposed to fast for 8 hours prior to the surgery, they were waiting to start until it had been 8 hours post-lunch. However, when Dr. Moreira arrived and she checked me, I was almost to 5 cm, so they were gonna get this show on the road. Brooks got some scrubs on, and I was escorted back to the OR for the first time in my life. Yes, I walked down there. It was very anti-climactic.


I told the anesthesiologist I'm a cheap drunk and she gave me a smaller dose of the anesthesia than usual. Getting the spinal block was a better experience than the epidural. It hurt a lot less getting it, had similar side affects but not as severe, but felt loopy. During the procedure, Brooks sat next to my head. I felt tugging but no pain, then I felt weight lifted. I waited and listen, and heard a small cry, "Baby A - it's a boy!" I was right! I waited for the next feeling of weight lifting, and sure enough, "Baby B is born - another boy!" I was relieved, excited, happy, overwhelmed with emotion, and still quite loopy. Liz Garcia, the midwife who assisted with the c-section (who also delivered Elliott!) was shocked to discover that both boys had true knots in their cords. Yes, each had managed to get a knot in their umbilical cord, which would have caused a lot of distress in the birth I had hoped for, resulting in an emergency c-section. I'm grateful that God knew that and that we had a scheduled surgery instead of panic during labor. Just one of the many footprints of God's sovereignty in these boys' lives. Brooks went to be with the babies and Deb came and stayed with me during the 45 minute clean up and stitch up. It was great to have her there, although I was pretty out of it, and kind of fell asleep, but not deeply; I could still hear what was going on. Before I dozed, they brought the wrapped and capped babies to me to "hold" but it sure was awkward, so it was a very brief (and unusual) meeting, rather unimpressive, especially compared to my 2 previous births. That's ok--I had enough excitement with this pregnancy.

I was moved to a gurney and into recovery to feed the boys. Both had low blood sugar (gee, I wonder why...) and needed to eat right away, but A was breathing too rapidly for nursing or even a bottle and so his first meal was through a feeding tube in his nose. Poor thing! B and I had a nice time bonding while he nursed, and pretty well, too! Eventually, despite having a less than stellar latch, Andrew nursed the next feeding and did pretty well, too.

I had prayed for 2 things regarding this pregnancy, once I got past the grieving phases: that it would be clear how the babies should be born (old fashioned way or c-section) and that the boys would be good nursers. I got both, and I praise God for that! Why not pray that they would be healthy? I was essentially praying for that, too--babies can be healthy by not good nursers, but chances are that if they were not healthy, they for sure would not nurse well either.

Then I was wheeled into a room and began round the clock feeding on demand until their sugar levels were high enough. Later, I found out that even though I was awake and aware that night, I wasn't fully there--I had the same nurses later in the week that I thought I was meeting for the first time, but they remembered me, and even Brooks remembered them!

After about 24 hours of being tired and loopy, I started to come out of it and think straight. Brooks and I were able to finally discuss names and by Wednesday had settled on Andrew Benjamin and Garrett Warren.

Andrew Benjamin

Garrett Warren

Andrew was my great grandfather's middle name, Benjamin was the other's first name, (both on my mom's side, one her mom's dad, one her dad's dad, but I didn't know that until later) and the first name of one of my dearest friends, better known as Benley. :) Andrew was the name Jillian would have had if she were a boy, and Elliott almost had, except he didn't look like an Andrew. He will probably be called Andy, like one of my cousin's sons.

Garrett is name we both liked that fit our "British Isles" theme for names by chance, and Warren is my mother's maiden name, in her honor. I didn't think he'd like to have a girl's name for a middle name. :)