The twins birth story pt. 2/when I became a nicu mom

9 months later and I’m finally writing part two of the twins’ birth story while I’m 21 weeks pregnant with baby number 3! I believe part of me kept pushing off this part of the story because of the emotional wound, the loneliness, the fear, the isolation and just pure grief for this part of their story.

May 3rd 2021

As we approached May 3rd, Dylan and I were feeling hope that these babies would stay in utero quite a bit longer. My pneumonia had resolved, daily monitoring decreased and we were transitioning out of crisis mode into waiting. The doctors and I supported Dylan going back to work at the office as the babies and I were in good hands and we seemed to survive the emergent period. He attempted to work from the hospital amongst the craziness and I’m sure you can imagine how effective that was. Unfortunately his superiors were not terribly understanding during this time in our life. Stress on top of stress to say the least. I’ll spare you the details of all of the anxiety between my work situation, Dylan’s work situation and health insurance, all you need to know is that it was incredibly stressful and God is GOOD! It’s amazing we were able to keep our home AND figure out a way for me to stay home with the babies. It’s truly incredible.

Dylan went to the office that morning and shortly after he left, the doctor came in and asked me if I was feeling THE contractions. If you need any indication of how uncomfortable I was, this is it! During my morning session of being monitored, the doctors were noticing more regular contractions and wondered if I could tell. NOPE! I had no idea. They were a little concerned at the frequency and asked to check my cervix…I dilated to a 5 (previously I held steady at a 3). This was the threshold we talked about and planned for. We hoped to make it to at least 33 weeks for all of the obvious reasons but it wasn’t going to happen. Labor wasn’t stopping. So the doctor looked at me and said, “Katelyn, your babies are coming today.” I felt all of the color leave my face and all I could shutter in response was “okay” before I burst into tears. Dylan wasn’t there to comfort me and I was overcome by the most unfamiliar combination of utter terror and absolute joy. I was so excited that today was the day I’d become a mom and meet my babies but then I felt absolute dread having no idea what was next for them. I called Dylan and we laugh/cried about the situation. “of course it’s THE DAY you go back to the office. hahah” “How has your two hours of work been? haha” “I can’t believe we are going to meet our babies today!”

Dylan returned to the hospital and at this point, any fear I had going into a surgery was totally gone. It’s wild how parental instincts are the absolute strongest even in my most vulnerable and weakest state. The doctor started running through the risks of a c section.

“you could die.”

“you could die.”

“you could die.”

That’s pretty much all I heard in the those moments and I actually didn’t care. I remember having “the talk” with Dylan and death was my last concern that day. Sure I was scared, but I told Dylan “you do everything in your power to save those babies.” He agreed. Sadly, the single parent life was pretty real to him since he lost his mom at 8 years old.

They got us all prepped, wheeled me back into the O.R. and laid me out on the table. Dylan joined me and probably 20 other people. There was a team of 5 doctors and nurses for each baby ready to receive and jump into action. At least 4 people directly around me and so many spectators. We had surely become a spectacle at the hospital as the highly anticipated twin birth. Everything happened so fast and I heard “wow she IS low” and then I actually heard CRIES. I couldn’t believe it! I looked up at Dylan (feeling pretty good on my anesthesia) and asked, “Is that our baby?” Georgeanna was born and it was the most comforting sound I could have heard in that moment. I expected silence and I remember the tidal wave of relief that came over me. They counted down one minute before cutting her chord and handing her over to the NICU team. Another short minute later, Jude was lifted out and I heard another big cry.

We did it! The babies are alive! I didn’t get to see them, they were rolled away to the NICU and Dylan followed to be with the twins. They closed me up and took me to recovery where I stayed for over an hour. I dozed in and out of sleep as the anesthesia was wearing off. Eventually, Dylan came back to check on me and I was wheeled, in my bed, to the NICU to meet my babies for the first time. They were in their incubators, under blue light, connected to ventilators, chords everywhere and little eye masks while wrapped and snuggled up in their synthetic wombs. I could reach in a touch their little bodies but I couldn’t hold them.

The days following were painful in all the ways. C-section recovery is very painful and it was heartbreaking to be away from the babies. I was pumping every three hours to get my milk to come in. I was wheeled over (in a wheelchair) to the NICU a few times a day to visit the babies. It’s hard to describe how I felt, as a mother, not to hold my babies, to be away from them at night, to see them covered in chords, to hear the constant noises, alarms and beeps from all of the machinery, to not be able to see their faces or comfort their cries. It’s hard to describe because there’s just really nothing like it.

May 7th, two days before Mother’s Day.

On the 5th day, my last day at the hospital, I was able to hold my babies. Time was incredibly limited as they only allowed one brief (20-30 minute) hold once or twice a day depending on how the babies were doing. I got to hold both Geanna and then Jude for the first time that day. Dylan waited even longer so that I could hold the babies first. The highly anticipated reunions were incredible. They were full of joy and sorrow, guilt and longing, yearning and despair, but we were in that moment together. I held my tiny baby in my hands and just thanked God for their health and asked for continued strength for us all. I knew I was leaving the hospital that day. There was a looming and ever present uneasiness for the upcoming moments where I would need to walk away and leave my babies behind. These moments are some of the most vivid, one arm on my husband for support and the other holding my belly keeping my organs intact (or at least it felt like that). The slowest waddle ever and in the distance I heard “Katelyn?!” I turned my head and saw my doctor. Not one of the hospital doctors, but the doctor that finally listened to me and my body and diagnosed me with Hashimoto. The doctor who discovered my low progesterone and supported us on our journey to conceive. In essence, she was the reason the twins existed. She walked over to me, grabbed my arm and said “I know that walk.” I burst into tears. She continued, “I had nicu babies and it’s so hard to leave them.” All I could do was nod my head as tears streamed down my face because she truly saw me in that moment.

This is where our birth story ended and our NICU journey began. We were on day 5 of a 74 day journey for Jude and a 126 day journey for Geanna.