As the nurse concluded her examination, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. She met my gaze, her voice steady yet strained, and said, “There’s a bulging sac and a baby’s head. We’re calling your doctor. You’re going to the operating room now to deliver your twins.”
In that moment, tears streamed down my face for the first time during this high-risk pregnancy. I was only 24 weeks along, having come to the hospital merely for a check-up, expecting to return home for bed rest like in my previous pregnancy. Could babies survive at such an early stage? My mind raced with questions, but there was no time to process. I glanced at my partner and urged him to call my mother. We hadn’t even chosen names, nor did we know what this journey would entail. At 24 weeks and 5 days, I was about to give birth to my twins.
The boys arrived via emergency Cesarean section, each weighing just 1 lb 10 oz, and surprisingly, they were breathing and crying. The nurses kept remarking on how big our boys were, but in my eyes, they were the tiniest beings I had ever seen. Their skin was almost transparent, their eyes sealed shut, and their little arms were smaller than my pinky. We named Baby A Ethan James, meaning “strong” and “supplanter,” and Baby B was named Noah Samuel, which translates to “comfort” and “God has heard.” We understood that this would be the greatest battle of our lives, and no matter the outcome, our boys were brave fighters.
On the second day of their lives, a nurse told me, “This journey will be a ‘two steps forward, one step back’ kind of experience.” How true those words would prove to be! Some days felt like a rollercoaster of progress—12 steps forward, only to find ourselves backtracking. I was eager for information and, although I lacked a medical background, I had a steep learning curve ahead of me. I quickly discovered that taking everything one breath at a time was crucial. Staying present and hopeful was essential for surviving the 101-day NICU rollercoaster. And we did survive; we all did.
Feeding tubes and breathing machines were the lifelines for our little warriors. In those initial weeks, we had serious discussions with the complex care team. They informed us, “Noah is sicker than Ethan.” Noah underwent heart surgery within his first month, which significantly improved his condition; he reached 2 lbs soon after. By the end of his NICU stay, he had hernia surgery as well. Today, it’s hard to believe the challenges he faced; he doesn’t just walk, he runs! He is endlessly curious, full of humor, and has a charm that melts hearts.
Both boys experienced brain bleeds shortly after birth, but Ethan’s was more severe. Due to bilateral brain bleeding, he developed hydrocephalus and needed a shunt. During his first of two neurosurgeries, he faced a complication that resulted in a second severe brain bleed. We were repeatedly told that his neurological prognosis was uncertain, and we would have to wait and see how he developed. We later learned that the bleeding had caused permanent brain damage affecting his left arm.
Ethan is now engaged in therapy and continues to overcome obstacles with determination. One neurologist noted, “You would never guess this is the same child by looking at his MRI.” He is incredibly verbal and observant, captivating everyone with his charm. Although he is developmentally delayed, we believe his neurological condition won’t limit him as he grows into adulthood. He is simply taking the scenic route, and I’ve come to appreciate that the view from the top is even more rewarding after climbing such a steep hill.
Our brave boys, Ethan and Noah, turned two years old on July 18, 2019. They continue to defy expectations, and my pride for them knows no bounds. My time in the NICU taught me that statistics are just numbers, and miracles unfold daily, particularly in that environment.
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In summary, my journey with my one-pound twins has been a testament to resilience, love, and hope against the odds.