[05NOV25]
About five years ago, my wife and I discovered that we were having twins. It wasn't until then that I also discovered I have twins on my side of the family, and so does she. We were excited, but she was scared. It turns out that the twin births on her side of the family have always lost one child. For some reason, only one twin survives and the other one never makes it. I told her not to worry.
Several months and many ultrasounds later, we found out our double bundle is a boy and a girl. We immediately began narrowing down possible baby names. Soon afterwards we were told devastating news. My son's placenta has been ruptured and risk infection, which at that stage can be fatal to the embryo. My wife's nightmare became very real all of a sudden.
I tried to comfort my wife but I wasn't very convincing. I myself have been losing weight from worry. After all, our first child miscarried not even a year before. I don't want to lose another.
My wife went into the hospital for her regularly scheduled trimester appointment. We had made it six months with fingers crossed and countless prayers. The medical staff ran a few tests and immediately admitted her into a room as a patient. Test results had indicated my son's ruptured placenta was reaching a dangerous level. While they kept her for observation, I visited every night after work. Although it was against the rules, the nurses allowed me to stay past visiting hours and even sleep over every night. That became our life for nearly three months.
Finally the doctors scheduled a date for the birth to be induced. Ideally the longer our babies stay inside their mother, the better it is for their development. Becasue of my son's ruptured placenta, the doctors did not want to risk further complications and decided on a forced labor. My wife, already dealing with this ordeal with such strength and endurance, tried to conceal her fear of it from me. I admired her tremendously. I told her, "We're almost there. Everything's going to be alright now."
The night before our scheduled labor, the woman a few doors down from our room lost her baby. Her baby's neck broke during delivery and died. My wife cried for that poor woman, and our already stressed nerves pained our hearts. For our night before labor, we did not sleep. We laid awake together, my hands stroking her stomach until morning.
In the delivery room, I stood at my wife's left side, holding her leg to assist her labor. My son was the first one into the world and we were so relieved because of all the stress over this little one. My daughter breached and came out legs first. Then the horror of last night resurfaced, her neck was stuck. The doctor struggled to free her. Minutes past and I saw my daughter turn from pink to blue. Those kicking legs were no longer moving. My heart sank. My wife looked at me, trying to read my face and broke into tears. The doctor worked diligently and was finally able to pull my daughter out. She was a little bluish purple and motionless. Quickly the doctor pressed two fingers on her small chest and pushed gently until the room was filled with the beautiful sound of our crying baby.
She is healthy and the only thing negative from that experience was neck trauma that we worked away with months of intensive physical therapy. Because of the ruptured placenta, the development of our son's lungs was hindered. He was taken to the NICU for further care. He is also healthy and requires occassional treattments on a respirator.
With all that behind us, I am reminded everyday how lucky we really are. |
