As the doctor conducted my ultrasound, she suddenly exclaimed, “Oh my!” sensing the anxiety written on my face. “There are two!” My husband, juggling our 3-year-old and 1-year-old on his lap, met my wide-eyed gaze. We exchanged a mix of shock and exhilaration, fully aware that our lives were about to change dramatically with the arrival of our twin boys.
At 28 weeks and 4 days into my pregnancy, I was jolted awake in the middle of the night, desperately needing to use the restroom. However, I quickly realized something was amiss—I had already urinated. Panic set in as I considered the possibility that my water might have broken. I drove myself to the hospital, convinced I’d soon be chuckling with my husband about my embarrassing trip. But a quick test revealed that amniotic fluid had indeed leaked, leading to steroid injections and a sudden stay on bed rest.
Fast forward to 30 weeks pregnant, I woke up again at 2 a.m. to use the bathroom. As I sat up, I found my hospital bed soaked. This time, it was no accident. I called my husband, who had stayed the night with me, and as he helped me up, I was struck by a sense of dread. The bathroom light illuminated an alarming scene—blood everywhere. He dashed out to get the nurse.
I remember the urgency in the nurse’s voice as she rushed in, talking on her phone to a doctor who was delivering another baby. My heart raced as I felt the blood flow. When she hung up, fear gripped me, and I asked if I was going to die. “Just hang on, Sweetie,” she replied, her calm demeanor contrasting my panic.
In a moment of clarity, I told my husband to take care of our children and remind them of my love. The night blended into a blur, though I remember being wheeled into the operating room, restrained and terrified. The anesthesiologist reassured me, “We know, honey, don’t worry.”
When I finally woke up, I felt disoriented. A neonatologist informed me that both boys had been safely delivered but faced challenges ahead: Cannon had swallowed blood from my placental abruption and Bennett had a minor brain bleed. Thankfully, I had extra blood due to the twin pregnancy, which helped me recover.
Cannon and Bennett were born weighing 3 lbs. 10 oz. and 3 lbs. 4 oz. respectively, and spent 63 days in the NICU. I can still hear the incessant beeping of their monitors echoing in my mind. When they finally came home, they needed oxygen for six weeks, a daunting task for a new parent.
After countless visits to the NICU, bringing home two babies who had struggled to breathe was terrifying. I consulted the nurses about getting a home monitor, but they advised against it, warning of false alarms and unnecessary anxiety. At six weeks, both boys had stabilized, and we finally said goodbye to the oxygen tanks.
Nearly three years later, Cannon and Bennett are thriving, their scary entrance into the world becoming a distant memory. With chubby cheeks and endless energy, they create mischief together, just as we had imagined. They are as healthy as we had fervently hoped, and we couldn’t be prouder.
For more insights on pregnancy and parenting, check out one of our other blog posts here. If you’re considering starting a family, this guide to artificial insemination is also worth exploring.
In summary, the journey of having twins in the NICU is fraught with fear and uncertainty, but it can lead to the most rewarding experiences.