The Delivery

Written by Rachel

To read my earlier posts, click here and here.

This was the day.  Delivery day.  The day I'd hoped I wouldn't wake up to, the day I'd hoped was just part of a horrible dream.  The day where I couldn't pretend that things weren't real.  It was actually happening.  And it was happening so fast.  One minute I was loading our little girl into the car to drop her off at my in-law's house, and the next minute, I was walking through the doors of the hospital, the same doors where, less than 24 hours ago, I had entered with an eager smile on my face hoping to see my healthy active little boys.  Now, I entered knowing that I would be leaving those same doors with an empty stomach and empty arms.

I checked in and the nurses led me to a private room where they attempted to put an IV in my arm.  I say attempted because it took FOREVER, even though I'm always told I have awesome veins every time I've had my blood drawn.  The nurse couldn't get it in, and after poking both of my arms what felt like a hundred times, she paged an anesthesiologist to come help.  After trying for another half an hour or more, he was still unsuccessful.  I think they were finally able to get the IV in my hand just before 11am, 3 whole hours after I had checked in.  Then it was finally time to begin the process of inducing labor.

Before the nurse came in to start me on the medication, a med student came in to go over a few things with us.  He told us the doctor said that the standard ultrasound wasn't necessary to see what position the babies were in since they had already passed.  But a part of me still thought, hoped, that maybe the doctor had made a mistake, that the babies were still alive, and I needed to be 100% sure.  So I requested that he do it anyway.  He was so supportive and brought out the ultrasound machine.  I was hoping that my prayers would be answered exactly how I wanted, that their hearts would miraculously beat again when I saw them on the screen.  I thought, if I have enough faith, why not?  But again, I saw the darkness in each of their bodies where there should have been a fluttering of movement.  It was the nail in the coffin.

So, on we went.  I don't really know how to explain the process without using certain terms that might make some people uncomfortable (and frankly, it makes me a little uncomfortable), but I guess (sugar-coated) honesty is the best policy here, so you can skip this part if you want :)  Because my body still thought I was months away from delivering my babies, it was not ready to give them up.  I was given pills to soften the cervix and eventually start contractions.  The nurse gave me the first dose of 2 pills at 11 am, and let's just say that it was a very uncomfortable place to have pills placed (although, as a pregnant person, I was used to it already from all my appointments, but still...never fun).  I was told previously by my doctor and again by my nurse that the process would be slow, and I would probably be in labor through the night and not deliver until the next day.  So my husband Matt and I settled in, not knowing how I would personally react to the medication but prepared that it would take a while.

I wasn't overly emotional in the hospital.  I think I was still in shock.  Maybe if I didn't acknowledge that I was devastated, I could make it through the day.  Or better yet, maybe it still wasn't real.  I think my sister was our first visitor.  She lived close to the hospital, so she ran home and grabbed some dvd's for me to watch to distract myself from all the 'hospital' stuff.  My mom also came to keep us company.  I appreciated having my family there.  It helped me keep my mind off things.  We are good at distracting each other and keeping things light.  We seem to try to handle everything with a sense of humor, even though it may seem inappropriate to laugh at times like these.  It was what I needed.  The medical staff kept coming in and checking on my progress and asking me all these questions they needed for their paperwork: what were our plans for the babies after they were born, did we want to have a funeral, did we want autopsies done, what other tests did we want, what were we naming our little boys?  I was so unprepared to answer any of their questions.  What mom wants to answer questions about funerals for their own children or what to do with their bodies?  We didn't even have names picked out!  Even that decision weighed heavily on my mind.  Matt and I only ever agreed on one boy name, and I felt like I couldn't name one of the boys that name and then give our other boy just some other random name.  So we decided not to use that name at all.  We went back and forth all day, even with suggestions from Matt like Jethro and Tull (obviously not happening, but again, we tried to keep things light).  I had some names I really liked, but we decided to wait until we met our boys to decide on their names.

The clock kept ticking and 2 pm rolled around, and still not much happening as far as contractions or anything.  I did have to keep getting up to go to the bathroom, but I thought that was just nerves.  Turns out, that was one of the unpleasant side effects of the Cytotec I had been given to induce labor.  My doctor came in to check up on me and told me that he was going to head home to rest since I probably wouldn't make substantial progress until the next day.  Then the same medical student from before came to give me my second round of pills, and I could definitely tell he was much less experienced than my first nurse.  He did one pill at a time, and was a lot slower.  I'm sure the poor guy was traumatized, as was I :)  But this time, my body started to respond to the medication.  After a few hours, just after my mom had left to go home for the night and it was just me and Matt left, my nurse came in with another medical student to tell me that my contractions were super close together, less than 30 seconds apart, which was not exactly what they wanted, so they needed to remove the pills to try and slow the contractions.  I had been very uncomfortable for a while, but it had just felt like my upset stomach was progressively tighter and way more uncomfortable.  I didn't realize I was having contractions because it honestly just felt like I was having one giant contraction that never went away, and I thought it was just the side effect again.  But I wasn't surprised they were contractions, because it explained why I was torn between wanting to stay curled up in a fetal position and wanting to run to the bathroom.  The new medical student removed all 4 of the pills (again, uber uncomfortable!) and that's when I really started to feel the pain of the contractions.  My nurse told me that this was probably happening soon and to let people know if I wanted anyone there.

My doctor was called and told to come back as soon as he could, that these babies were coming.  They also called the photographer (a friend who also lived in our neighborhood) who so graciously offered to come take pictures of my sweet baby boys while I still had them with me.  Matt called my mom and his parents and told them to inform anyone who wanted to come see the boys that they were on their way.  The anesthesiologist was also called (I definitely wanted an epidural) and was told it was "urgent", but when he came (he was an upper-year resident), he didn't know I was delivering stillborn babies, so when he found out what I was dilated to, he just laughed and said, "I thought this was urgent!"  When I told him my babies were stillborns and not full term, he quickly changed his tone and got to work.  Everything was happening so fast.  I feel like it all happened within five minutes.  I was given the epidural, clenching my jaw in pain from my contractions, and just as I was rolling back onto the table, I felt a sensation.  I practically fell back onto the bed as I shouted at the nurse, "They're coming."  And there was Baby A.

He came so fast, the nurses and doctors hadn't even had a second to prepare for him.  The anesthesiologist was still standing there with his equipment.  My doctor wasn't even back at the hospital yet.  I looked to the foot of the bed and saw the nurse wrapping my sweet little lifeless baby in a blanket.  Five minutes later, Baby B came.  As I held both tiny little  angels in my arms, I just stared at them.  My babies.  I was holding my babies.  They were ours.  How was I so lucky to have them?  I know my husband has an enormous love for and connection to our boys, but as their mamma who had carried them inside me, I just had this bond with them that intensified as soon as I cradled them in my arms.  Matt let me pick the names, so we named Baby A Maddox and Baby B Sampson.  They were real, and I was in love with them. 

They were so small, but so perfect.  Maddox had this perfect, calm look on his face, and Sampson had his little tongue sticking out.  I wanted to just hold them and stare at them forever, but I had to give them to Matt.  I was still bleeding.  The placenta wasn't detaching on it's own.  My doctor still wasn't at the hospital, so one of the resident doctors tried to manually remove the rest of placenta with his hand.  The epidural still hadn't taken effect, and let me tell you, that was the most painful thing I've ever experienced.  I may have yelled things at the doctor while he was doing it, and I'm impressed with myself that I didn't swear at him, even though I wanted to.  My mom was waiting outside the room and she could hear me yelling in pain and she was furious at the doctor.  Mamma bear coming out, I guess :)  Anyway, he wasn't able to get all the placenta, so Matt gave me a blessing after my doctor got there and I was taken into surgery.  I was pretty drugged up and still had complications, but the next thing I remember was being back in my room with Matt, our parents, my sisters, the photographer, and my little boys.

We had some pictures taken (more on this in a later post), and after everyone left for the night, the nurse told me she could take the boys at any point, but that I could keep them as long as I wanted.  Matt was nervous to keep holding them because their bodies were so soft and fragile, but as soon as he fell asleep, I asked the nurse to bring the babies to me so I could sleep with them and be with them one last time.  I remember just looking at their precious bodies, trying to memorize every detail about them and soak up every second I had left with them.  It was a very sacred time for me, just me and my babies.  There was definitely a sweet spirit in the room.  I am so eternally grateful I was able to spend those last moments together with my babies by my side.  The love I felt (and still feel) for my Maddox and Sampson was overwhelming and brought a peace to my heart that I needed more than anything.

November 15, 2012.  That was the day our family of three became a family of five.