Finally! My Birth Story!
Well - it took me long enough to write (you'll see why when you realize how long this thing is!), but I have finally finished the twins' birth story! Nevermind the fact that they are almost three months old... ;) It's extremely long and very picture-heavy, but I thought I'd post it in my birth-month communities (March & April, in case you see it double-posted) in case anyone is brave or just plain bored enough to read it all!
My last weekly pregnancy photo - taken the night before the babies were born (37w4d)!
Our daily naptime routine - Noah fell asleep on my (practically nonexistant!) lap in the rocking chair!
Noah and Poe-Cat join me in bed while I read a book and enjoy my relaxing last days of pregnancy
On Tuesday, March 20th, I had a regular prenatal appointment at 8:30 AM that included my now-weekly biophysical profile ultrasounds. During the BPP, they look at the babies' movement and muscle tone, heartrate, amniotic fluid levels, and practice breathing movements to rate the babies' wellbeing - our BPP scores had always been perfect until this date.
That day, we couldn't find any amniotic fluid pockets for Baby A. The ultrasound tech asked if I had been leaking any fluid, but I had not. I then met with my OB, Dr. French, who wanted to deliver the babies as soon as possible - by cesarean because Baby A was still breech. During the ultrasound, both babies had looked perfect and not in distress, but she explained to me that low amniotic fluid was often the first sign that there might be a developing problem.
She made a call to the OR and I was scheduled for the c-section at noon. It was now about 9:00 AM. Dr. French said, "Go home and get your things and then come right back to the hospital as soon as possible. Normally we'd have you here two hours before the surgery." Thus began the frenzied phone calls - first I called Andy and asked him to meet me at home immediately, then I called my parents and told them to get on the road and head down here (a six hour drive for them), I called my brother to see if he could come watch Noah, and finally I called my doula to tell her we were going to be having babies today! Strangely enough, I was still quite calm through all of this - I think because I knew both babies were not in any imminent danger and were still looking perfectly healthy on the ultrasound.
After rushing around like mad to get ready, we were on our way back to the hospital where we met up with my brother and dropped off Noah. I was nervous as we walked into the hospital at 10:45, holding hands, and rode the elevator up to the 4th floor - the maternity floor. I was put into a triage room and changed into a hospital gown, and Kattina (my doula) arrived while I was being hooked up to the fetal monitors.
Getting hooked up to the fetal heartrate monitors
Gianna's heartrate (129) and Adam's heartrate (153)
Kattina, my doula, arrives and I am instantly calmer!
As usual, Baby B was easy to find but Baby A, because of her position so far down in my pelvis, was hard to trace. Exhausted, I didn't mind lying in bed - because I wasn't having contractions! That quickly changed, though - shortly after admission, I began to have moderately strong, regular contractions every 5-6 minutes. After a few particularly rough contractions (they are always so bad when you are flat on your back in bed!), Kattina asked, “Do you think you would have called me yet?” (meaning would I have called her to tell her I was in labor had we not already been there) I said yes, at this point I would have assumed I was in labor, and I felt somehow better about the whole situation knowing I likely would have delivered the babies that day even if Baby A hadn’t had low fluid.
Andy, Kattina, and I chatted and joked while the nurses came in and out - checking the babies' monitors, asking registration questions, etc. I met with a resident to discuss the surgery and went over my birth plan preferences. We talked about the incision - it would be a low transverse (“bikini cut”) incision through both my skin and uterus, though if Baby B stayed transverse at the time of delivery, they might have to cut my uterus horizontally, making a sort of “T” incision, so as to be able to grab his body. This thought terrified me and I prayed he wouldn’t stay transverse. My IV was started and my pubic hair was shaved - totally degrading! Then, a lab technician came in and delivered some bad news. My iron was "dangerously low" - 7.3, when 10 is considered low. "I don't even know how you're walking around!' said the nurse. The anesthesiologist would not perform my cesarean until I had received a blood transfusion.
I spent the next three hours receiving two units of blood. We called my parents to let them know that the surgery had been delayed, and were pleased to find out they were close enough that they would probably make it to the hospital in time for the babies to be born. After the transfusion, my hemoglobin was at 9.4 and the anesthesiologist gave the OK for the cesarean. Depending on my blood work after the surgery, I was told I still might need to receive a couple more units of blood after the cesarean.
All prepped and ready to go!
My parents arrived at around 4:00, and at 4:30 the fetal monitors were removed and we just sat around talking, waiting to be called to the OR. And then suddenly the nurse was there to escort me to the surgical suite and everything started to happen so fast. I felt strange walking down the hallway in my hospital gown and slippers - the staff we passed acted like they knew me and wished me luck. Dr. French stood at the nurse’s station and gave me a thumbs up, saying, “Not much longer now! See you in a second!” It was 4:58 when I climbed up on the edge of the table - I remember staring at the clock in an attempt to focus my thoughts and avoid getting panicked as I realized I was really about to have major surgery. Andy and Kattina waited In the hallway to be called in, and my parents paced the waiting room.
It was weird to be alone in the operating room without my support people, surrounded by medical staff I didn’t know. They introduced themselves, but I was hardly paying attention. There was a medical student who was very nice - she asked if she could touch my huge belly, having never seen a woman pregnant with twins before. The nurses were counting surgical tools and drapes and gauze - two sets of everything, one for each baby - and tallying the numbers on a marker board across the room. Just when I was about to become overwhelmed by it all, Dr. French entered and seemed to take on the role of my doula while she couldn’t be there. It was wonderful - she rubbed my legs, patted my back, pushed my hair behind my ears, and told me how amazing I was. Having twins herself, she told me from experience how much fun I would have with my babies. Her gentle actions almost had me in tears - it was such a welcome thing in this cold, sterile, white room.
The nurse-anesthetist was a young man who explained the spinal anesthesia to me while he placed heart and oxygen monitors on my body. He was very kind and spoke to me like a friend or even a daughter. The anesthesiologist came in and introduced herself and we got started administering the anesthesia. I was scared and expected it to hurt - it didn’t. A pinch, maybe, but nothing to worry about. Then they helped me to lie back down while I waited for the medicine to kick in. It was only moments before I felt my legs and feet tingling, and I heard the nurses calling off the minutes as they passed. One nurse said, “It’s been three now,” and another answered, “We need to wait five.” After the five minutes, they tested me to see if I was completely numb. I wasn’t. “Feel that?” they asked several times and I answered no, I couldn’t, until they reached near my right hip and I did feel a pricking, painful sensation. They seemed surprised that I answered yes, and the nurse-anesthetist came up near my head behind the curtain and nodded to whomever was doing the pricking on the other side. I noticed him carefully watching my face as they asked, “Feel that?” again, and apparently I made some facial expression that caused them to believe me (thank God) because he nodded again and said, “She’s got sensation on the right.”
They decided to try tilting the table to the right to allow the anesthesia to flow to that side of my body, and discussed using a local anesthesia in that area if it failed to work. Luckily, after a few minutes of lying with the bed tilted to the right, I could no longer feel any sensation on that side.
I don’t know if I expected them to notify me the moment they began cutting, but I remember being very surprised when it occurred to me that they had already begun the surgery. I’m not sure what alerted me to the fact - I think it was Dr. French calling out the name of some surgical instrument - and suddenly I panicked because Andy and Kattina were still outside. It was right at that moment that a nurse seemed to read my mind and said, “Ok, time to get Dad!” “And the doula, too!” the nurse-anesthetist added. I was still kind of in shock that the surgery was already well underway - I guess I expected them to let Andy and Kattina come in first? I started crying as soon as Andy joined me at my side, and the nurse-anesthetist asked me if I wanted some anti-anxiety meds which I declined (I remembered reading that they might make me groggy, and I wanted to remember everything and be fully present for the delivery).
It seemed like it was only a moment later thatI was told to expect some pressure. The next few minutes are kind of a blur. Someone told Andy to stand up and look over the screen if he wanted, and rather than pay attention to the sensations I was feeling and the sounds I was hearing, I was preoccupied with whether or not Andy felt comfortable seeing the surgery. I heard Dr. French laugh, “Oh yeah, she’s definitely breech!” Someone else laughed and said she had a hold of Baby B so as to prevent him from turning transverse after Baby A was delivered. The nurse-anesthetist stroked my forehead and said, “You’re doing great, honey.” I asked Andy if he wanted to stand up, and he did just in time to see them deliver Baby A, Gianna, at 5:33 PM. I heard a cry and asked, “Is that her?” Andy nodded emphatically with tears in his eyes, and Kattina followed the baby to the warmer with our video camera.
5:33 PM - Gianna enters the world!
Gianna Theresa Duszynski - 5lb 7oz and 17 3/4 inches long
Immediately as Gianna was handed off to the pediatric team, the nurses were talking about Baby B’s arrival. I heard someone say, “Here he comes vertex!” I somehow managed to feel grateful that I had avoided the scary “T” incision in my uterus. Andy was laughing and then the nurses were laughing - Adam was delivered at 5:34 PM and came out peeing! I heard his cry, and was somewhat aware of Gianna’s cry in the background, but mostly I just felt out of it - the whole experience was so surreal. The idea that I had just technically given birth was the furthest thing from my mind.
5:34 PM - Adam is born!
Adam Paul Duszynski - 6lb 9oz and 19 inches long
At this point, I urged Andy to go to the babies. He was worried about leaving my side, but I assured him I was fine and that he should be with Gianna and Adam. He kept darting back and forth to show me pictures on the digital camera while I patiently waited to see my children in person. I was surprised that Adam had so little hair, and thought Gianna looked like a scared monkey!
Adam - "Dammit, I left my keys in there!"
Gianna - looking like a frightened chimpanzee!?
The nurses unfastened my “restraints” so that I was free to move my arms. First, Andy brought Adam. It occurred to me at the time that this was a little strange - Gianna had been born first so I expected her to be “ready” to see me first. But I peeked under Adam’s hat to look at his sparse, light-brown hair and felt his soft, sweet cheeks with tears streaming down my own cheeks. Adam was very alert and mesmerized by his daddy’s voice. He stared and stared into Andy’s eyes and was immediately calmed by Andy’s voice whenever he would start to cry.
Suddenly, a man appeared at my side and introduced himself as someone official-sounding from the neonatal intensive care unit (I knew the NICU staff would be there to examine the babies at birth - it is protocol for all twin deliveries). He said, “We are going to take your little girl to the NICU to observe her for a little while. She’s fine, but she’s doing some grunting which tells us she’s having a bit of difficulty breathing, and we just want to keep an eye on her."
I feel like I just stared at him and dumbly nodded, not really understanding. I wasn’t scared or worried, strangely. Perhaps it was his demeanor or the tone of his voice that reassured me, but I felt that Gianna was fine. I was undoubtedly overwhelmed by the surgery, too. It was at this point that I started feeling very, very nauseated. I asked what was going on, and the nurse-anesthetist explained that this was the part where my uterus was taken out of my body and examined carefully. I had read that most women experience vertigo and nausea during this part of the repair. He asked if I would like some anti-nausea meds added to my IV, and explained that they would make me very groggy and I would probably fall asleep for about ten minutes. I refused, wanting to be totally present and aware.
A nurse arrived, holding Gianna. I was mesmerized by her delicate features and surprised at how small she was. She was crying and seemed “normal” - another reason I wasn’t worried about her. I figured if there were truly something very wrong, they would have rushed her away by now. They did seem to want to hurry us, though, asking Andy if he’d like to hold both babies so they could take some pictures of us before they brought Gianna to the NICU.
Andy brings the babies near my head to take our first family photo while I am being "repaired"
The rest of the surgery is very hard to remember - I know it happened quickly, though, as I was in the recovery room by 6:00 PM and the babies had only been born at 5:30. When the NICU team took Gianna away, Andy left with Adam to the newborn nursery for the admission procedures there. Kattina stayed with me and we gushed over the babies. Soon, my parents came into the recovery room and I asked if they had seen the babies. They had been able to see Adam, but not Gianna. I could tell they were worried, but were trying to hide it. They talked about how beautiful Adam was, and mom cried. I finally learned the babies’ weights - Gianna was 5 pounds 7 ounces and Adam was 6 pounds 9 ounces - and I was surprised they were so small.
A few minutes later, Andy came back with Adam and I got to hold my second-born son for the first time. I was eager to nurse him right away, and Kattina helped me move wires and monitors out of the way so I could untie my gown. My parents left to give us some privacy - Andy took them to the NICU to see Gianna for the first time. We propped up pillows on my abdomen (though I still was numb and felt no pain) and I attempted to use the football hold - a first for me, as I had never used this position with Noah. It was a little awkward and very reminiscent of that first fumbling nursing experience with Noah two-and-a-half years earlier, but Adam seemed interested and softly nuzzled and licked without really latching on. He did latch a few times, just briefly, but I was unworried.
Holding Adam for the first time
The nurse in the recovery room told me I would need to stay for about an hour to be monitored, and at 7:00 I would be released to a room on the 5th floor, the maternity ward. My parents returned with news of how beautiful Gianna was, and said the NICU expected to release her at 7:00 because she seemed just fine.
Gianna in the NICU
However, at 6:35, the doctor from NICU returned to tell me they wanted to keep her overnight. They had done a chest x-ray and discovered a pneumopericardium - an air pocket in the space between the heart and the membrane surrounding it. It could have formed when an air sac in her lung burst during delivery. He assured us that it wasn’t a big deal and suggested it is probably more common than anyone knows but not typically diagnosed because chest x-rays are not routine procedure for newborns, of course. To be on the safe side, they wanted to watch her overnight in NICU in case it worsened - the pocket can put pressure on the heart and the staff upstairs would not be equipped to treat her if an emergency arose.
I was obviously disappointed and worried - but I was either feeling the effects of the drugs from the surgery (which didn’t make sense to me as they shouldn’t have affected my mental state) or had sort of shut down emotionally from feeling overwhelmed by the whole day because I wasn’t as concerned as one would expect to feel upon hearing that a complication had arisen that would keep your child in an intensive care unit. Or perhaps the doctor was just that reassuring once again. Strange, either way.
It was now 7:00 and the nurse began removing the monitors that tracked my heart and blood pressure and oxygen levels. They asked if I wanted to hold Adam while being wheeled to my maternity room, and I said yes. We paraded down the hall to the elevators - two nurses, my parents, Kattina, Andy, and Adam and me. It was at this point that I started to feel pain from the surgery. I still could not feel my lower body and had been highly amused in the recovery room when I would watch Kattina tickle the bottom of my feet and could not feel it, but now I was feeling an aching pain near where my incision was. I was a little surprised as Duramorph had been added to my spinal before it was removed - and I expected about 24 hours of pain relief from it.
We settled into my room and arranged my bed and pillows in a fashion so that I could attempt to nurse Adam again. I was starting to feel extremely anxious about not having seen Gianna yet and kept asking the nurse when I could see her. I also asked about pain medication and was told morphine was my only option because they would want to see if I could eat and keep food down before they gave me anything else. I insisted that I did not want morphine because I wanted to feel alert and not drugged - I requested percocet. Again the nurse told me I needed to wait at least an hour after eating. My parents urged me to accept the morphine, and the nurse said I would not be able to nurse the babies well if I was in pain. Finally, I consented, and the nurse left to get the medication. While she was gone, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I really did not want to take morphine and decided I needed to listen to how I was feeling. The nurse was obviously annoyed when she returned with the morphine and I told her I had changed my mind. I convinced her to let me take Advil now with some juice, and, if I was able to keep the juice down, have some percocet.
I drank two cups of orange juice while I nursed Adam. This time he latched on very well and nursed for several minutes before falling asleep. I was now able to move toes on my left foot, but couldn’t feel it happening. It was the strangest thing, to think “Move, toes!” and see them moving but not feel it. I still could not move or feel my right leg or foot at all - the side that they had had to add more anesthesia. When the nurse returned, she brought percocet and seemed surprised that I hadn’t thrown up - especially after hearing I had chosen orange juice instead of apple or cranberry. I guess that convinced her that I would be ok, because she gave me the percocet.
At this point, my brother arrived with Noah and I was so excited to see him! He wanted to crawl up into bed with me immediately and didn’t seem too interested in meeting his new brother - he just wanted Mama! I had to tell him that I was sore and had an “owie” on my stomach, and he very gently curled up against my side.
Big brother Noah meets his new brother Adam for the first time
Grandma Laurie, Grandpa Steve, Noah, and Adam
It was now almost 8:00 PM and I felt literally sick about not seeing Gianna yet. I could see that the nurse was annoyed with me for asking again to be taken to the NICU, but I didn’t care. I wanted to hold and nurse my baby even though the nurse insisted Gianna would be fine if she didn’t eat right away. I wanted to tell her I knew that - I work as a breastfeeding counselor - but I just requested to go again. I think they expected me to want to stay in bed for hours and hours after my surgery, but all I wanted to do was see my girl and I knew I would feel an awful sense of unrest until I did. Finally, almost three hours after the babies had been born, the nurse brought me a wheelchair, helped me into it (though I was finally now beginning to feel sensation in my legs again), and wheeled me down to the 4th floor NICU with my entire family (minus baby Adam, whom we had left in the newborn nursery) in tow.
I was amazed at how tiny Gianna was. She was not hooked up to many machines like the other babies in the room - she only had a wire attached to a heart monitor and a cuff on her foot monitoring her blood oxygen saturation. She was awake and alert, and smelled like baby soap - they had already bathed her. Her dark hair and olive skin were gorgeous. I was mesmerized by her long fingers and toes.
Finally able to hold Gianna for the first time
Andy holds his tiny daughter in the NICU
She knew how to nurse immediately and did none of the licking, tasting, and nuzzling that most newborns do - she just latched right away. For the first time all evening, I was able to relax. The NICU lactation consultant showed up to make sure everything was going well and she was amazed - she said most newborns didn’t swallow so much and that Gianna was doing wonderfully. Eventually everyone left - my parents took Noah home and Andy left to get some of his things, and Kattina left and promised to return the next day to see how I was doing. I stayed with Gianna for about an hour before I started to feel anxious about feeding Adam. I realized I was going to be in for a stressful experience until Gianna was released from NICU and I had both my babies with me.
A nurse wheeled me back upstairs and we picked up Adam from the nursery on our way to my room. He was hungry and I nursed him until he fell asleep again, and then waited for Andy to return. He was back at about 11:00, at which point we brought Adam back to the nursery and went together down to NICU to see Gianna again.
I spent the whole night in a state of anxiety over the necessary problem of leaving one baby hungry while I fed the other. It never failed - I would be in the middle of nursing Adam and the NICU would call to tell me that Gianna was hungry, too. I hated to hurry Adam, but I wanted to get to Gianna as soon as possible before she became frantic with hunger. Several times I was unable to sleep, worrying about her, and would simply return to feed her before I was called. I began to fear that the NICU was waiting until the last moment to call me - when Gianna already was past her early hunger cues and was getting very upset - and sometimes it was almost like she had given up by the time I got to her and just wanted to sleep. So on top of being uncomfortable, tired, and nervous, I started to feel very guilty.
At about 4:00 AM, I consented to Gianna being given a pacifier. Looking back, I feel really stupid for feeling this way, but I almost felt guilty about my baby being the healthiest baby in the NICU yet crying the most and the loudest. I wanted her to be calmed so that the nurses did not have to spend so much time soothing her -time they could be spending with sicker babies. Back in my room, I laid awake in bed listening to Adam make newborn sniffles and moans in his sleep and to Andy breathe deeply and evenly and worried about my little girl who just wanted to be held.
My catheter was removed at 6:00 AM on the 21st, just before I headed back down to the NICU for another feeding (although I had not yet been “summoned”). Gianna had been moved to a different room in the intensive care unit, and I was told that was a good sign. (A room with less critical babies, I think?) I noticed at this feeding that Gianna had trouble latching, but didn’t want to think it was because of the pacifier. I wasn’t worried yet.
At 11:30 that morning, my IV was removed and I took a long, glorious hot shower while Andy and Adam had some father-son bonding time. I spent all day in bed, nursing and dozing off, and going back and forth to and from the NICU. The nurses there were always so nice, and during one of our conversations I mentioned that I was feeling well probably because of the percocet I was taking for pain. The two nurses I was talking to were very surprised as they hadn’t realized I had had a cesarean section - they told me that most mothers who deliver via c-section don’t visit their babies very often because they just want to stay in bed and sleep. I allowed myself a moment to feel proud!
By 3:00 PM that afternoon, Gianna was still having problems latching and I didn’t feel she was getting much to eat (though I still wasn’t very worried about it). She had another chest x-ray which didn’t show much improvement in the size of the pocket around her heart, so the doctors wanted to use a “head tent” with oxygen in hopes of equalizing the pressure and sucking out the air pocket. I asked what the treatment would be if the head tent did not work, and the doctor invited us to be present during the NICU doctors’ rounds the following morning where we would have the chance to listen to the doctors discuss Gianna’s case and ask any questions.
At 6:00 PM that evening, I called down to the nurse’s station to request that a nurse wheel me down to the NICU for another visit and feeding. Strangely, I detected a bit of annoyance in the nurse’s voice when she said she’d be right there, and when she arrived she told me that I probably didn’t need to use my wheelchair anymore. It occurred to me to be offended, but mostly I was just thrilled not to have to wait for someone to bring me down to NICU to feed Gianna and then wait again for them to return to pick me up when I was done and eager to feed Adam. Andy stayed with Adam, and I felt empowered and independent as I slowly shuffled down the hallway to the elevators!
Kattina returned to see how we were all doing, but I was starting to get nervous about Gianna’s feeds (or lack thereof). The NICU would call to tell me she was hungry, but most of the time she was sleeping soundly and difficult to wake by the time I was there to feed her. I felt an incredible sense of guilt that she so frequently cried to be fed and then eventually gave up and basically “shut down”. I vowed that tonight I would return to the NICU before two hours had passed all night long, even if it meant that I got no sleep between feeding Adam up in my room and then returning to feed Gianna downstairs.
My brother Adam came to visit at about 8:00 PM that night, and Andy took the opportunity to return home to shower and change clothes again. I tried to sleep when I could, usually in very short intervals, so that I could be there for both of my babies when they needed to eat. Gianna continued to have difficulty latching all through the night and now I found it nearly impossible to sleep for fear that NICU would let me sleep for too long before summoning me to return. I knew they were giving her another chest x-ray at 3:00 AM, so I made sure I was awake and was there while they did it. They said they would have the results when the doctors reviewed the film at about 6:00 AM, but that Gianna was doing wonderfully and expected them to have good news. In fact, she had only been under the head tent with oxygen for about six hours. Meanwhile, a nurse brought me a nipple shield which I was very hesitant to use but wanted to do anything at that point to coax Gianna to latch. It worked, but only briefly.
At 6:00, I again made sure to be there at the NICU because I was eager to know the results of Gianna’s x-ray. Good news - the pneumopericardium had disappeared and Gianna would be discharged from the NICU as soon as the doctors did their rounds that morning! At 9:00 AM, I was back up to feed Gianna and I met with the NICU lactation consultant. The first thing she did was throw GIanna’s pacifier in a drawer and storm off to ask the nurses whether or not Gianna had been supplemented with a bottle despite my orders not to. I was thankful to be within hearing distance of the conversation and was relieved to hear that she had not been given any bottles. Then the lactation consultant returned to help me work on Gianna’s latch. We weren’t entirely successful, and decided that I should return to my room with a breast pump and try to pump whatever colostrum I could produce to feed to Gianna at her next feeding via a syringe and finger tube.
I had hardly had time to return to the room when the NICU called again to tell us that the doctors in NICU were there to do their rounds. We dropped Adam off in the nursery and hurried back downstairs to meet with Gianna’s doctors. The news was overwhelmingly good - all of the doctors and students talked about how wonderfully Gianna was doing. They told us that the pneumopericardium had resolved and that Gianna was very healthy and would be released to us as soon as the discharge (and transfer to the “regular” newborn nursery) papers were completed. Gianna’s doctor would also write up a letter detailing her stay in the NICU to be forwarded to her pediatrician.
Back in our room, I tried pumping for the first time and was able to express a bit of colostrum. But now that we knew that Gianna would be released at any time, we decided to keep the precious bottle of “liquid gold” in our room with us rather than take it up to NICU. It was now lunchtime, and Mom and Dad arrived just as I was finishing my lunch. Mom and I wanted to go visit Gianna in NICU again, so we left the room and walked down the hallway. As we passed the newborn nursery, we saw a couple of nurses pushing a bassinet - they said, “There’s mama right now!” and then we knew that it was Gianna they were pushing! We hurried over and watched them finish “admitting” her in the newborn nursery and then we were so thrilled to be able to bring her back to our room with us. We immediately placed her next to Adam, who was sleeping in his own bassinet, and took a million pictures of our babies reunited at last!
Reunited at last! Andy holds the twins after Gianna is dicharged from NICU
Adam & Gianna, together again
Bundled up tight and snuggling close
It was time to feed Gianna again, and a nurse was there to help me feed my expressed colostrums through a tube even while Gianna was latched on to my breast. We got her semi-latched on, and then tucked the end of the tube in the corner of her mouth and depressed the pump so a small amount of colostrums was squirted into her mouth. She immediately latched on to my nipple and began to nurse perfectly - and we haven’t had a single problem since!
The rest of the day passed quickly. I practiced nursing the babies together at one time, and we co-slept in bed together with a baby in the crook of each arm. I was ecstatic and on a total hormonal high - I walked around with a permanent grin plastered to my face and couldn’t get enough of my beautiful babies.
Nursing the twins together for the first time
Getting the hang of it!
Exhausted Mama and contented babies take a nap together
Adam likes to crane his neck like this - we assume it's due to his position in the womb
The next morning - Friday - I was surprised when a nurse asked me if I was ready to go home today. I thought that since I had had a cesarean, they would be keeping me until Saturday. I wasn’t actually sure I was ready to go home, but when I thought about it I realized how excited I was to take my babies home. They said it would probably be after lunch, as it would take some time to go through all the discharge paperwork with me for both babies. I spent the morning nursing and filling out the applications for the babies’ social security numbers. After lunch, we began to gather our things and dressed the babies in their homecoming outfits.
Gianna, all dolled up and ready to leave the hospital
Adam, ready to go home
Time to go!
When it was all said and done, we weren’t actually ready to leave until around 3:00 PM - but it felt so good to walk down the hall (I didn’t even use a wheelchair!) and get in the elevator and not be going to NICU!
I waited inside the front door while Andy went to pull up with the car. I stared at my babies and couldn’t believe how blessed we are. Every person who walked passed us stopped to admire the babies and I beamed with pride. We put the (sleeping) babies into the car and drove away. I remembered crying as we left the hospital with Noah two-and-a-half years earlier, yet I didn’t feel like crying this time. I couldn’t wait to return home to begin the rest of our lives together as a family of five.
Gianna and Adam in their pack-n-play at home
Noah and Adam
Noah and Gianna
Happy to be a big brother
My last weekly pregnancy photo - taken the night before the babies were born (37w4d)!
Our daily naptime routine - Noah fell asleep on my (practically nonexistant!) lap in the rocking chair!
Noah and Poe-Cat join me in bed while I read a book and enjoy my relaxing last days of pregnancy
On Tuesday, March 20th, I had a regular prenatal appointment at 8:30 AM that included my now-weekly biophysical profile ultrasounds. During the BPP, they look at the babies' movement and muscle tone, heartrate, amniotic fluid levels, and practice breathing movements to rate the babies' wellbeing - our BPP scores had always been perfect until this date.
That day, we couldn't find any amniotic fluid pockets for Baby A. The ultrasound tech asked if I had been leaking any fluid, but I had not. I then met with my OB, Dr. French, who wanted to deliver the babies as soon as possible - by cesarean because Baby A was still breech. During the ultrasound, both babies had looked perfect and not in distress, but she explained to me that low amniotic fluid was often the first sign that there might be a developing problem.
She made a call to the OR and I was scheduled for the c-section at noon. It was now about 9:00 AM. Dr. French said, "Go home and get your things and then come right back to the hospital as soon as possible. Normally we'd have you here two hours before the surgery." Thus began the frenzied phone calls - first I called Andy and asked him to meet me at home immediately, then I called my parents and told them to get on the road and head down here (a six hour drive for them), I called my brother to see if he could come watch Noah, and finally I called my doula to tell her we were going to be having babies today! Strangely enough, I was still quite calm through all of this - I think because I knew both babies were not in any imminent danger and were still looking perfectly healthy on the ultrasound.
After rushing around like mad to get ready, we were on our way back to the hospital where we met up with my brother and dropped off Noah. I was nervous as we walked into the hospital at 10:45, holding hands, and rode the elevator up to the 4th floor - the maternity floor. I was put into a triage room and changed into a hospital gown, and Kattina (my doula) arrived while I was being hooked up to the fetal monitors.
Getting hooked up to the fetal heartrate monitors
Gianna's heartrate (129) and Adam's heartrate (153)
Kattina, my doula, arrives and I am instantly calmer!
As usual, Baby B was easy to find but Baby A, because of her position so far down in my pelvis, was hard to trace. Exhausted, I didn't mind lying in bed - because I wasn't having contractions! That quickly changed, though - shortly after admission, I began to have moderately strong, regular contractions every 5-6 minutes. After a few particularly rough contractions (they are always so bad when you are flat on your back in bed!), Kattina asked, “Do you think you would have called me yet?” (meaning would I have called her to tell her I was in labor had we not already been there) I said yes, at this point I would have assumed I was in labor, and I felt somehow better about the whole situation knowing I likely would have delivered the babies that day even if Baby A hadn’t had low fluid.
Andy, Kattina, and I chatted and joked while the nurses came in and out - checking the babies' monitors, asking registration questions, etc. I met with a resident to discuss the surgery and went over my birth plan preferences. We talked about the incision - it would be a low transverse (“bikini cut”) incision through both my skin and uterus, though if Baby B stayed transverse at the time of delivery, they might have to cut my uterus horizontally, making a sort of “T” incision, so as to be able to grab his body. This thought terrified me and I prayed he wouldn’t stay transverse. My IV was started and my pubic hair was shaved - totally degrading! Then, a lab technician came in and delivered some bad news. My iron was "dangerously low" - 7.3, when 10 is considered low. "I don't even know how you're walking around!' said the nurse. The anesthesiologist would not perform my cesarean until I had received a blood transfusion.
I spent the next three hours receiving two units of blood. We called my parents to let them know that the surgery had been delayed, and were pleased to find out they were close enough that they would probably make it to the hospital in time for the babies to be born. After the transfusion, my hemoglobin was at 9.4 and the anesthesiologist gave the OK for the cesarean. Depending on my blood work after the surgery, I was told I still might need to receive a couple more units of blood after the cesarean.
All prepped and ready to go!
My parents arrived at around 4:00, and at 4:30 the fetal monitors were removed and we just sat around talking, waiting to be called to the OR. And then suddenly the nurse was there to escort me to the surgical suite and everything started to happen so fast. I felt strange walking down the hallway in my hospital gown and slippers - the staff we passed acted like they knew me and wished me luck. Dr. French stood at the nurse’s station and gave me a thumbs up, saying, “Not much longer now! See you in a second!” It was 4:58 when I climbed up on the edge of the table - I remember staring at the clock in an attempt to focus my thoughts and avoid getting panicked as I realized I was really about to have major surgery. Andy and Kattina waited In the hallway to be called in, and my parents paced the waiting room.
It was weird to be alone in the operating room without my support people, surrounded by medical staff I didn’t know. They introduced themselves, but I was hardly paying attention. There was a medical student who was very nice - she asked if she could touch my huge belly, having never seen a woman pregnant with twins before. The nurses were counting surgical tools and drapes and gauze - two sets of everything, one for each baby - and tallying the numbers on a marker board across the room. Just when I was about to become overwhelmed by it all, Dr. French entered and seemed to take on the role of my doula while she couldn’t be there. It was wonderful - she rubbed my legs, patted my back, pushed my hair behind my ears, and told me how amazing I was. Having twins herself, she told me from experience how much fun I would have with my babies. Her gentle actions almost had me in tears - it was such a welcome thing in this cold, sterile, white room.
The nurse-anesthetist was a young man who explained the spinal anesthesia to me while he placed heart and oxygen monitors on my body. He was very kind and spoke to me like a friend or even a daughter. The anesthesiologist came in and introduced herself and we got started administering the anesthesia. I was scared and expected it to hurt - it didn’t. A pinch, maybe, but nothing to worry about. Then they helped me to lie back down while I waited for the medicine to kick in. It was only moments before I felt my legs and feet tingling, and I heard the nurses calling off the minutes as they passed. One nurse said, “It’s been three now,” and another answered, “We need to wait five.” After the five minutes, they tested me to see if I was completely numb. I wasn’t. “Feel that?” they asked several times and I answered no, I couldn’t, until they reached near my right hip and I did feel a pricking, painful sensation. They seemed surprised that I answered yes, and the nurse-anesthetist came up near my head behind the curtain and nodded to whomever was doing the pricking on the other side. I noticed him carefully watching my face as they asked, “Feel that?” again, and apparently I made some facial expression that caused them to believe me (thank God) because he nodded again and said, “She’s got sensation on the right.”
They decided to try tilting the table to the right to allow the anesthesia to flow to that side of my body, and discussed using a local anesthesia in that area if it failed to work. Luckily, after a few minutes of lying with the bed tilted to the right, I could no longer feel any sensation on that side.
I don’t know if I expected them to notify me the moment they began cutting, but I remember being very surprised when it occurred to me that they had already begun the surgery. I’m not sure what alerted me to the fact - I think it was Dr. French calling out the name of some surgical instrument - and suddenly I panicked because Andy and Kattina were still outside. It was right at that moment that a nurse seemed to read my mind and said, “Ok, time to get Dad!” “And the doula, too!” the nurse-anesthetist added. I was still kind of in shock that the surgery was already well underway - I guess I expected them to let Andy and Kattina come in first? I started crying as soon as Andy joined me at my side, and the nurse-anesthetist asked me if I wanted some anti-anxiety meds which I declined (I remembered reading that they might make me groggy, and I wanted to remember everything and be fully present for the delivery).
It seemed like it was only a moment later thatI was told to expect some pressure. The next few minutes are kind of a blur. Someone told Andy to stand up and look over the screen if he wanted, and rather than pay attention to the sensations I was feeling and the sounds I was hearing, I was preoccupied with whether or not Andy felt comfortable seeing the surgery. I heard Dr. French laugh, “Oh yeah, she’s definitely breech!” Someone else laughed and said she had a hold of Baby B so as to prevent him from turning transverse after Baby A was delivered. The nurse-anesthetist stroked my forehead and said, “You’re doing great, honey.” I asked Andy if he wanted to stand up, and he did just in time to see them deliver Baby A, Gianna, at 5:33 PM. I heard a cry and asked, “Is that her?” Andy nodded emphatically with tears in his eyes, and Kattina followed the baby to the warmer with our video camera.
5:33 PM - Gianna enters the world!
Gianna Theresa Duszynski - 5lb 7oz and 17 3/4 inches long
Immediately as Gianna was handed off to the pediatric team, the nurses were talking about Baby B’s arrival. I heard someone say, “Here he comes vertex!” I somehow managed to feel grateful that I had avoided the scary “T” incision in my uterus. Andy was laughing and then the nurses were laughing - Adam was delivered at 5:34 PM and came out peeing! I heard his cry, and was somewhat aware of Gianna’s cry in the background, but mostly I just felt out of it - the whole experience was so surreal. The idea that I had just technically given birth was the furthest thing from my mind.
5:34 PM - Adam is born!
Adam Paul Duszynski - 6lb 9oz and 19 inches long
At this point, I urged Andy to go to the babies. He was worried about leaving my side, but I assured him I was fine and that he should be with Gianna and Adam. He kept darting back and forth to show me pictures on the digital camera while I patiently waited to see my children in person. I was surprised that Adam had so little hair, and thought Gianna looked like a scared monkey!
Adam - "Dammit, I left my keys in there!"
Gianna - looking like a frightened chimpanzee!?
The nurses unfastened my “restraints” so that I was free to move my arms. First, Andy brought Adam. It occurred to me at the time that this was a little strange - Gianna had been born first so I expected her to be “ready” to see me first. But I peeked under Adam’s hat to look at his sparse, light-brown hair and felt his soft, sweet cheeks with tears streaming down my own cheeks. Adam was very alert and mesmerized by his daddy’s voice. He stared and stared into Andy’s eyes and was immediately calmed by Andy’s voice whenever he would start to cry.
Suddenly, a man appeared at my side and introduced himself as someone official-sounding from the neonatal intensive care unit (I knew the NICU staff would be there to examine the babies at birth - it is protocol for all twin deliveries). He said, “We are going to take your little girl to the NICU to observe her for a little while. She’s fine, but she’s doing some grunting which tells us she’s having a bit of difficulty breathing, and we just want to keep an eye on her."
I feel like I just stared at him and dumbly nodded, not really understanding. I wasn’t scared or worried, strangely. Perhaps it was his demeanor or the tone of his voice that reassured me, but I felt that Gianna was fine. I was undoubtedly overwhelmed by the surgery, too. It was at this point that I started feeling very, very nauseated. I asked what was going on, and the nurse-anesthetist explained that this was the part where my uterus was taken out of my body and examined carefully. I had read that most women experience vertigo and nausea during this part of the repair. He asked if I would like some anti-nausea meds added to my IV, and explained that they would make me very groggy and I would probably fall asleep for about ten minutes. I refused, wanting to be totally present and aware.
A nurse arrived, holding Gianna. I was mesmerized by her delicate features and surprised at how small she was. She was crying and seemed “normal” - another reason I wasn’t worried about her. I figured if there were truly something very wrong, they would have rushed her away by now. They did seem to want to hurry us, though, asking Andy if he’d like to hold both babies so they could take some pictures of us before they brought Gianna to the NICU.
Andy brings the babies near my head to take our first family photo while I am being "repaired"
The rest of the surgery is very hard to remember - I know it happened quickly, though, as I was in the recovery room by 6:00 PM and the babies had only been born at 5:30. When the NICU team took Gianna away, Andy left with Adam to the newborn nursery for the admission procedures there. Kattina stayed with me and we gushed over the babies. Soon, my parents came into the recovery room and I asked if they had seen the babies. They had been able to see Adam, but not Gianna. I could tell they were worried, but were trying to hide it. They talked about how beautiful Adam was, and mom cried. I finally learned the babies’ weights - Gianna was 5 pounds 7 ounces and Adam was 6 pounds 9 ounces - and I was surprised they were so small.
A few minutes later, Andy came back with Adam and I got to hold my second-born son for the first time. I was eager to nurse him right away, and Kattina helped me move wires and monitors out of the way so I could untie my gown. My parents left to give us some privacy - Andy took them to the NICU to see Gianna for the first time. We propped up pillows on my abdomen (though I still was numb and felt no pain) and I attempted to use the football hold - a first for me, as I had never used this position with Noah. It was a little awkward and very reminiscent of that first fumbling nursing experience with Noah two-and-a-half years earlier, but Adam seemed interested and softly nuzzled and licked without really latching on. He did latch a few times, just briefly, but I was unworried.
Holding Adam for the first time
The nurse in the recovery room told me I would need to stay for about an hour to be monitored, and at 7:00 I would be released to a room on the 5th floor, the maternity ward. My parents returned with news of how beautiful Gianna was, and said the NICU expected to release her at 7:00 because she seemed just fine.
Gianna in the NICU
However, at 6:35, the doctor from NICU returned to tell me they wanted to keep her overnight. They had done a chest x-ray and discovered a pneumopericardium - an air pocket in the space between the heart and the membrane surrounding it. It could have formed when an air sac in her lung burst during delivery. He assured us that it wasn’t a big deal and suggested it is probably more common than anyone knows but not typically diagnosed because chest x-rays are not routine procedure for newborns, of course. To be on the safe side, they wanted to watch her overnight in NICU in case it worsened - the pocket can put pressure on the heart and the staff upstairs would not be equipped to treat her if an emergency arose.
I was obviously disappointed and worried - but I was either feeling the effects of the drugs from the surgery (which didn’t make sense to me as they shouldn’t have affected my mental state) or had sort of shut down emotionally from feeling overwhelmed by the whole day because I wasn’t as concerned as one would expect to feel upon hearing that a complication had arisen that would keep your child in an intensive care unit. Or perhaps the doctor was just that reassuring once again. Strange, either way.
It was now 7:00 and the nurse began removing the monitors that tracked my heart and blood pressure and oxygen levels. They asked if I wanted to hold Adam while being wheeled to my maternity room, and I said yes. We paraded down the hall to the elevators - two nurses, my parents, Kattina, Andy, and Adam and me. It was at this point that I started to feel pain from the surgery. I still could not feel my lower body and had been highly amused in the recovery room when I would watch Kattina tickle the bottom of my feet and could not feel it, but now I was feeling an aching pain near where my incision was. I was a little surprised as Duramorph had been added to my spinal before it was removed - and I expected about 24 hours of pain relief from it.
We settled into my room and arranged my bed and pillows in a fashion so that I could attempt to nurse Adam again. I was starting to feel extremely anxious about not having seen Gianna yet and kept asking the nurse when I could see her. I also asked about pain medication and was told morphine was my only option because they would want to see if I could eat and keep food down before they gave me anything else. I insisted that I did not want morphine because I wanted to feel alert and not drugged - I requested percocet. Again the nurse told me I needed to wait at least an hour after eating. My parents urged me to accept the morphine, and the nurse said I would not be able to nurse the babies well if I was in pain. Finally, I consented, and the nurse left to get the medication. While she was gone, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I really did not want to take morphine and decided I needed to listen to how I was feeling. The nurse was obviously annoyed when she returned with the morphine and I told her I had changed my mind. I convinced her to let me take Advil now with some juice, and, if I was able to keep the juice down, have some percocet.
I drank two cups of orange juice while I nursed Adam. This time he latched on very well and nursed for several minutes before falling asleep. I was now able to move toes on my left foot, but couldn’t feel it happening. It was the strangest thing, to think “Move, toes!” and see them moving but not feel it. I still could not move or feel my right leg or foot at all - the side that they had had to add more anesthesia. When the nurse returned, she brought percocet and seemed surprised that I hadn’t thrown up - especially after hearing I had chosen orange juice instead of apple or cranberry. I guess that convinced her that I would be ok, because she gave me the percocet.
At this point, my brother arrived with Noah and I was so excited to see him! He wanted to crawl up into bed with me immediately and didn’t seem too interested in meeting his new brother - he just wanted Mama! I had to tell him that I was sore and had an “owie” on my stomach, and he very gently curled up against my side.
Big brother Noah meets his new brother Adam for the first time
Grandma Laurie, Grandpa Steve, Noah, and Adam
It was now almost 8:00 PM and I felt literally sick about not seeing Gianna yet. I could see that the nurse was annoyed with me for asking again to be taken to the NICU, but I didn’t care. I wanted to hold and nurse my baby even though the nurse insisted Gianna would be fine if she didn’t eat right away. I wanted to tell her I knew that - I work as a breastfeeding counselor - but I just requested to go again. I think they expected me to want to stay in bed for hours and hours after my surgery, but all I wanted to do was see my girl and I knew I would feel an awful sense of unrest until I did. Finally, almost three hours after the babies had been born, the nurse brought me a wheelchair, helped me into it (though I was finally now beginning to feel sensation in my legs again), and wheeled me down to the 4th floor NICU with my entire family (minus baby Adam, whom we had left in the newborn nursery) in tow.
I was amazed at how tiny Gianna was. She was not hooked up to many machines like the other babies in the room - she only had a wire attached to a heart monitor and a cuff on her foot monitoring her blood oxygen saturation. She was awake and alert, and smelled like baby soap - they had already bathed her. Her dark hair and olive skin were gorgeous. I was mesmerized by her long fingers and toes.
Finally able to hold Gianna for the first time
Andy holds his tiny daughter in the NICU
She knew how to nurse immediately and did none of the licking, tasting, and nuzzling that most newborns do - she just latched right away. For the first time all evening, I was able to relax. The NICU lactation consultant showed up to make sure everything was going well and she was amazed - she said most newborns didn’t swallow so much and that Gianna was doing wonderfully. Eventually everyone left - my parents took Noah home and Andy left to get some of his things, and Kattina left and promised to return the next day to see how I was doing. I stayed with Gianna for about an hour before I started to feel anxious about feeding Adam. I realized I was going to be in for a stressful experience until Gianna was released from NICU and I had both my babies with me.
A nurse wheeled me back upstairs and we picked up Adam from the nursery on our way to my room. He was hungry and I nursed him until he fell asleep again, and then waited for Andy to return. He was back at about 11:00, at which point we brought Adam back to the nursery and went together down to NICU to see Gianna again.
I spent the whole night in a state of anxiety over the necessary problem of leaving one baby hungry while I fed the other. It never failed - I would be in the middle of nursing Adam and the NICU would call to tell me that Gianna was hungry, too. I hated to hurry Adam, but I wanted to get to Gianna as soon as possible before she became frantic with hunger. Several times I was unable to sleep, worrying about her, and would simply return to feed her before I was called. I began to fear that the NICU was waiting until the last moment to call me - when Gianna already was past her early hunger cues and was getting very upset - and sometimes it was almost like she had given up by the time I got to her and just wanted to sleep. So on top of being uncomfortable, tired, and nervous, I started to feel very guilty.
At about 4:00 AM, I consented to Gianna being given a pacifier. Looking back, I feel really stupid for feeling this way, but I almost felt guilty about my baby being the healthiest baby in the NICU yet crying the most and the loudest. I wanted her to be calmed so that the nurses did not have to spend so much time soothing her -time they could be spending with sicker babies. Back in my room, I laid awake in bed listening to Adam make newborn sniffles and moans in his sleep and to Andy breathe deeply and evenly and worried about my little girl who just wanted to be held.
My catheter was removed at 6:00 AM on the 21st, just before I headed back down to the NICU for another feeding (although I had not yet been “summoned”). Gianna had been moved to a different room in the intensive care unit, and I was told that was a good sign. (A room with less critical babies, I think?) I noticed at this feeding that Gianna had trouble latching, but didn’t want to think it was because of the pacifier. I wasn’t worried yet.
At 11:30 that morning, my IV was removed and I took a long, glorious hot shower while Andy and Adam had some father-son bonding time. I spent all day in bed, nursing and dozing off, and going back and forth to and from the NICU. The nurses there were always so nice, and during one of our conversations I mentioned that I was feeling well probably because of the percocet I was taking for pain. The two nurses I was talking to were very surprised as they hadn’t realized I had had a cesarean section - they told me that most mothers who deliver via c-section don’t visit their babies very often because they just want to stay in bed and sleep. I allowed myself a moment to feel proud!
By 3:00 PM that afternoon, Gianna was still having problems latching and I didn’t feel she was getting much to eat (though I still wasn’t very worried about it). She had another chest x-ray which didn’t show much improvement in the size of the pocket around her heart, so the doctors wanted to use a “head tent” with oxygen in hopes of equalizing the pressure and sucking out the air pocket. I asked what the treatment would be if the head tent did not work, and the doctor invited us to be present during the NICU doctors’ rounds the following morning where we would have the chance to listen to the doctors discuss Gianna’s case and ask any questions.
At 6:00 PM that evening, I called down to the nurse’s station to request that a nurse wheel me down to the NICU for another visit and feeding. Strangely, I detected a bit of annoyance in the nurse’s voice when she said she’d be right there, and when she arrived she told me that I probably didn’t need to use my wheelchair anymore. It occurred to me to be offended, but mostly I was just thrilled not to have to wait for someone to bring me down to NICU to feed Gianna and then wait again for them to return to pick me up when I was done and eager to feed Adam. Andy stayed with Adam, and I felt empowered and independent as I slowly shuffled down the hallway to the elevators!
Kattina returned to see how we were all doing, but I was starting to get nervous about Gianna’s feeds (or lack thereof). The NICU would call to tell me she was hungry, but most of the time she was sleeping soundly and difficult to wake by the time I was there to feed her. I felt an incredible sense of guilt that she so frequently cried to be fed and then eventually gave up and basically “shut down”. I vowed that tonight I would return to the NICU before two hours had passed all night long, even if it meant that I got no sleep between feeding Adam up in my room and then returning to feed Gianna downstairs.
My brother Adam came to visit at about 8:00 PM that night, and Andy took the opportunity to return home to shower and change clothes again. I tried to sleep when I could, usually in very short intervals, so that I could be there for both of my babies when they needed to eat. Gianna continued to have difficulty latching all through the night and now I found it nearly impossible to sleep for fear that NICU would let me sleep for too long before summoning me to return. I knew they were giving her another chest x-ray at 3:00 AM, so I made sure I was awake and was there while they did it. They said they would have the results when the doctors reviewed the film at about 6:00 AM, but that Gianna was doing wonderfully and expected them to have good news. In fact, she had only been under the head tent with oxygen for about six hours. Meanwhile, a nurse brought me a nipple shield which I was very hesitant to use but wanted to do anything at that point to coax Gianna to latch. It worked, but only briefly.
At 6:00, I again made sure to be there at the NICU because I was eager to know the results of Gianna’s x-ray. Good news - the pneumopericardium had disappeared and Gianna would be discharged from the NICU as soon as the doctors did their rounds that morning! At 9:00 AM, I was back up to feed Gianna and I met with the NICU lactation consultant. The first thing she did was throw GIanna’s pacifier in a drawer and storm off to ask the nurses whether or not Gianna had been supplemented with a bottle despite my orders not to. I was thankful to be within hearing distance of the conversation and was relieved to hear that she had not been given any bottles. Then the lactation consultant returned to help me work on Gianna’s latch. We weren’t entirely successful, and decided that I should return to my room with a breast pump and try to pump whatever colostrum I could produce to feed to Gianna at her next feeding via a syringe and finger tube.
I had hardly had time to return to the room when the NICU called again to tell us that the doctors in NICU were there to do their rounds. We dropped Adam off in the nursery and hurried back downstairs to meet with Gianna’s doctors. The news was overwhelmingly good - all of the doctors and students talked about how wonderfully Gianna was doing. They told us that the pneumopericardium had resolved and that Gianna was very healthy and would be released to us as soon as the discharge (and transfer to the “regular” newborn nursery) papers were completed. Gianna’s doctor would also write up a letter detailing her stay in the NICU to be forwarded to her pediatrician.
Back in our room, I tried pumping for the first time and was able to express a bit of colostrum. But now that we knew that Gianna would be released at any time, we decided to keep the precious bottle of “liquid gold” in our room with us rather than take it up to NICU. It was now lunchtime, and Mom and Dad arrived just as I was finishing my lunch. Mom and I wanted to go visit Gianna in NICU again, so we left the room and walked down the hallway. As we passed the newborn nursery, we saw a couple of nurses pushing a bassinet - they said, “There’s mama right now!” and then we knew that it was Gianna they were pushing! We hurried over and watched them finish “admitting” her in the newborn nursery and then we were so thrilled to be able to bring her back to our room with us. We immediately placed her next to Adam, who was sleeping in his own bassinet, and took a million pictures of our babies reunited at last!
Reunited at last! Andy holds the twins after Gianna is dicharged from NICU
Adam & Gianna, together again
Bundled up tight and snuggling close
It was time to feed Gianna again, and a nurse was there to help me feed my expressed colostrums through a tube even while Gianna was latched on to my breast. We got her semi-latched on, and then tucked the end of the tube in the corner of her mouth and depressed the pump so a small amount of colostrums was squirted into her mouth. She immediately latched on to my nipple and began to nurse perfectly - and we haven’t had a single problem since!
The rest of the day passed quickly. I practiced nursing the babies together at one time, and we co-slept in bed together with a baby in the crook of each arm. I was ecstatic and on a total hormonal high - I walked around with a permanent grin plastered to my face and couldn’t get enough of my beautiful babies.
Nursing the twins together for the first time
Getting the hang of it!
Exhausted Mama and contented babies take a nap together
Adam likes to crane his neck like this - we assume it's due to his position in the womb
The next morning - Friday - I was surprised when a nurse asked me if I was ready to go home today. I thought that since I had had a cesarean, they would be keeping me until Saturday. I wasn’t actually sure I was ready to go home, but when I thought about it I realized how excited I was to take my babies home. They said it would probably be after lunch, as it would take some time to go through all the discharge paperwork with me for both babies. I spent the morning nursing and filling out the applications for the babies’ social security numbers. After lunch, we began to gather our things and dressed the babies in their homecoming outfits.
Gianna, all dolled up and ready to leave the hospital
Adam, ready to go home
Time to go!
When it was all said and done, we weren’t actually ready to leave until around 3:00 PM - but it felt so good to walk down the hall (I didn’t even use a wheelchair!) and get in the elevator and not be going to NICU!
I waited inside the front door while Andy went to pull up with the car. I stared at my babies and couldn’t believe how blessed we are. Every person who walked passed us stopped to admire the babies and I beamed with pride. We put the (sleeping) babies into the car and drove away. I remembered crying as we left the hospital with Noah two-and-a-half years earlier, yet I didn’t feel like crying this time. I couldn’t wait to return home to begin the rest of our lives together as a family of five.
Gianna and Adam in their pack-n-play at home
Noah and Adam
Noah and Gianna
Happy to be a big brother