Twenty-six years ago
The woman on the other side of the curtain was having a hard time. Her baby was crying, and she couldn’t get it to stop. Meanwhile, I was sobbing. My babies weren’t next to me. I wasn’t even sure where they were.
The day before, I had gone for one of my regular “not-regular” doctor’s appointments. Several months earlier, when I thought I was just getting an ultrasound to see if I was really having twins, my husband and I discovered they were identical and had a problem. Something called twin-to-twin-transfusion syndrome. They only gave them a 50% chance of survival.
I didn’t accept that.
I firmly believe in the power of prayer, so I started praying. We didn’t tell many people about the situation. I didn’t want to deal with their fear.
We took the steps the doctors asked us to. And everything normalized. But it had to be constantly monitored. I was in the doctor’s office almost every other day, getting ultrasounds to ensure the babies were OK.
That day, twenty-six years ago, at my “not-regular” doctor’s appointment, when I was asked how I was doing, I had to admit that I wasn’t OK. I had been struggling to keep anything down. I couldn’t even keep water down. It started with food eaten later in the day, but it had grown to include everything.
They sent me to get blood drawn to see if anything was wrong and then told me to go home and rest.
I still had weeks to go. Five, to be exact. I don’t think it even occurred to me that I would have the babies within 24 hours. I went home, told my husband I was going to lie down with our two-year-old, and he could go to work. As soon as he did, the doctor called.
I needed to get to the hospital – ASAP.
This was before cell phones. And we only had one car. Thankfully, my parents lived close by. My dad took care of our older son, and my mom took me to the hospital. I called my husband’s work and asked them to send him to the hospital as soon as he arrived.
A lot of that time kind of blurs together. My husband got there soon after I did, so my mom left. I remember they kept trying to put an IV in me, but I was so dehydrated they couldn’t find a vein.
I remember being in the surgery, having them show me my babies, and then whisking them away.
And then they put me in that room with the other woman and her crying baby.
They didn’t have room for my husband, so he went home.
I must have slept. I was so drugged up. But it didn’t feel like it. All I could think about was my babies.
It seemed like an eternity, but eventually, my husband returned, and we could see them in the NICU. They were both five pounds – a really good weight for preemies. But that is tiny for my family (their younger brother at birth ended up weighing more than both of them together.)
And then they kicked me out.
They made me go home after one more day at the hospital. The nurse gave me a note saying I couldn’t return to work, but she didn’t get it. I cried and cried.
For the next several days, I would spend as much time as possible at the hospital, but my husband was back at work, and, as I said, we only had one car. My parents were great. They gave me rides to the hospital and took care of our oldest, but they had other commitments (work, business).
I had to figure out how to get my babies home.
I had to figure out how to be an advocate for my kids.
I tried to be proactive and figure out what they wanted to have to happen for the boys to come home. I wanted to breastfeed them. I got a pump and would fall asleep pumping at home. I’d take the milk to the hospital so it could be fed to the boys.
They had to be able to eat on their own, they said.
And then I’d show up at the hospital, and the boys would be crying. They were hungry. Why weren’t they being fed?
It wasn’t time.
And then, when it was time, they were exhausted. The nurses didn’t have the time to try and wake them up. They wouldn’t take the bottle.
It was easier to feed them through the tube in their nose.
I HAD TO GET THEM OUT OF THERE!
What do I need to do? I kept asking.
Go through a baby CPR class.
Fine. Let me do it now. Where do I sign up? When?
My husband and I did it the next day.
The nurse pulled us aside before the class started and told us they were moving our sons to a new hospital. She didn’t want us to go to see them after class and not be able to find them. I wanted to be with them, but she told me they were already on the way.
I don’t remember anything else. I sat through that class and did what the nurse wanted me to do, and then we had to figure out where they had taken our babies.
My husband drove me to the new hospital, and they took me to them.
I told the nurses I wasn’t leaving until they did.
And I didn’t.
I told the doctor they had moved the babies without my prior knowledge or approval (a big no-no). I insisted on taking over all feedings, and I fed them on demand. I asked them what I had to do to get them out, and they told me I would need to learn how to put a feeding tube down my baby’s nose, so I did.
And I got them out of there.
And I immediately took those tubes out.
Looking back, it seemed like several weeks where I went around topless with a special twin nursing pillow strapped around my waist and the boys on it constantly. They ate whenever they were hungry.
I had to agree to have a nurse visit us in a couple of weeks to get them out. When she came, she weighed them and looked them over, and I’m sure she took notes on our home. She said that everything was great.
A few days later, she called and wanted to come out again. She said that the hospital had lost their birth weights, so she needed to ensure they were still gaining weight.
I said no.
I asked her if they were doing well. Were they healthy? Clean? Well cared for? She said yes. I said we didn’t need her to come back out.
A few days after that, the nurse from the CPR class called. She wanted to quiz me on what I had learned that day. Let’s just say I wasn’t very nice. I may have mentioned suing the hospital for taking my babies without my prior knowledge or permission.
I never got a bill.
One thing I’ve realized is this happened for me. Not to me.
It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through. But I learned that I must be the advocate for my kids. I know them. I love them. And I will fight for them.
Many years later, when it became clear that homeschooling would be in our future, I leaned on this experience. It was a “hook” for me to pull myself up on. I had stood up to the medical establishment for my kids. I could stand up to the educational one.
I used it again when I decided to return to school to get my second master’s degree and teaching credential.
And again, when I decided to start my business.
Thank you, my beautiful boys, for the wonderful, challenging gift of being your mother!