I haven’t told the whole story in years. I’ve somehow managed to split the journey in two – the dark period before Margs and the happy period after. There was just so much awful stuff before baby girl that on some level I needed to make that distinction so that I didn’t have to continue facing the details of what exactly happened to us and how ridiculously difficult and unfair our journey to becoming parents to an earthly child was.
I wrote a post about feeling like my family was not complete months ago without really explaining the difficulties I face. I’ve spent weeks analyzing options and scenarios and unfortunately I’m no closer to making a decision than I was before. It did however occur to me that many of you fine folks have only gotten bits and pieces of the story and probably think I’m crazy for being so scared. Again, I’ve intentionally avoided sharing the whole story because it sucks and it hurts and most days I’m perfectly content pretending it didn’t really happen (not the most effective way of dealing with grief – I know).
So, can I tell you a story? Can I tell you about my babies?
In 2012 I got pregnant- it wasn’t a planned pregnancy because Mer and I were still sorting out our financials in anticipation of starting a family but we were thrilled regardless. At 12 weeks we found out we were expecting twins which left us amazed and terrified. We soon got to work preparing for our babies – 2 cribs, 2 car seats, 2 bouncers – you get the drift. By the time I was 18 weeks pregnant we essentially had everything in order because we were having twins and had been warned that it could be a difficult pregnancy and we should anticipate preparing for them early – if we only knew.
At 20 weeks and 3 days pregnant I woke up to spotting. I called my hospital triage who told me to take a shower and lay down but present to triage if it persisted. I had an appointment for my anatomy scan later that afternoon and figured I’d mention it then if it persisted. Later that morning, the bleeding intensified – we were scared and so we chose to head to the hospital to get checked out. The details of that day are pretty hazy now but I believe they gave me a urine test (which came back negative) and sent me home with orders to rest and that ultimately bleeding “sometimes” happens. They didn’t check my cervix which I’ve learned is standard procedure in twin pregnancies after the 20 week mark.
We headed home where we ate pogos (I haven’t eaten once since) and discussed how thankful we were that the bleeding was “normal” and nothing “significant”. I remember saying to Mer “Phew, I’m so glad they are okay – I cannot imagine losing them now”.
Later that afternoon we headed to my scheduled appointment for our anatomy scan where we were super excited to find out if the twins were girls or boys (our attitude about scans and such has changed so so much since then). Little did we know our life was about to change forever.
I remember things like “the babies looks so good”, “I want to do a vaginal u/s to check but I’d never forgive myself if your water breaks”, “it’s really too too bad”.
We had no idea what was going – we had no idea what was about to happen. We had no idea that this was the beginning of the end.
With orders to head back to the hospital Mer and I loaded ourselves into the car and drove back to the hospital that had sent me home earlier that morning with nothing to worry about. This time, they were waiting for me and put me into a bed immediately.
I spent the next 3 days in trendelenburg position, meaning I was laying head down with my feat well above my head hoping that my membranes would recede.
Oh, did I forget to tell you that part? I was 4cm dilated with bulging membranes the day of our scan.
On the second day at the hospital my doctor came to visit. She sat by my bedside and told me it wasn’t good. She explained that I had 2 choices – 1) I could opt to terminate the pregnancy or 2) agree to be transferred to another hospital facility with a neonatal intensive care unit where I’d stay on bed rest until the babies came.
We opted for a transfer.
After arriving at the new facility I had a team of perintologists examine me and explain my harsh new reality. I was essentially in pre-term labor, my cervix was too weak to hold my babies in and that we could try prolonged bed rest but that decision came with risks of infection and septicemia. There were no other options because at 4cm dilated any of the emergency procedures they could have tried would have either ruptured my membranes or resulted in infection.
We opted to take the risk and have me hospitalized to basically wait out the rest of my pregnancy hanging upside down.
After two days of waiting, praying and waiting some more the twins decided that it was time.
We were escorted down to the specialized birthing unit where moms are giving birth to babies who will die (it sounds harsh but it’s the truth). I believe there were 6 of us there at the same time and by a complete accident I ended up connecting with one of the other moms a year later. The universe is weird that way.
I labored for approximately 4 hours and our precious little girls were born.
Both babies were born alive although by legal standards they are considered a “stillbirth”. Mer held them both as they took their last breaths. I remember this moment vaguely (I was sedated with large amounts of Ativan at the time) although Mer reminds me often that I held both their little hands and sang to them.
3 weeks later I hemorrhaged and nearly lost my life and had to have an emergency D&C to stop the bleeding.
I got pregnant again 6 months later. A second set of twins. We were optimistic since I’d found a phenomenal new doctor who had an amazing plan to keep me pregnant. I found out that we’d lost the that set of twins at around 7 weeks pregnant and had another D&C because my body wouldn’t miscarry on its own.
The next 18 months were spent having surgery after surgery. I was diagnosed with a septate uterus, ashermans syndrome and the MTHFR gene.
Basically my uterus was misshapen and full of scars which I was told was likely going to leave me infertile because of the D&Cs. I was told not to get my hopes up.
I got pregnant again in the summer of 2014 and miscarried days after finding out.
By 2015 after trying to get pregnant for nearly a year, Mer and I started exploring other options. We either needed to come to terms with being child free or look into adoption aggressively. At our ages and with the wait period involved in an international adoption we knew we needed to figure out what our life path would be.
In the meantime I was working and trying to put all these hardships behind me. Then, in April 2015 I found out I was pregnant with Margs.
The world stopped and I gave up my career, my graduate program and my life in the real world so I could gestate this tiny baby. I did not believe for one minute that we’d get to bring her home and as each day passed I mentally prepared myself for it being the last. The odds were stacked against us but by some form of an enormous miracle she’s here and she’s safe.
It took me 67 days to write this post start to finish. I completely underestimated the power of words – this has been the most difficult piece of writing I’ve written for TTBH and most days I wiped away tears as I typed. Words hurt and are so liberating at the same time.