Our Story-Part 4

Do you remember being in high school and praying for that certain guy to fall in love with you because you were just sure he was the one? Or, in college, begging God to miraculously help you pass a bio-chem final because you ditched studying in order to go on a date? Shamefully, I most definitely prayed and hoped for silly things like that and much more. And as each month and year went by I realized time and time again that God had answered my prayers, but just hadn't given me the answer I was desperately wanting...

At this point in our journey my husband and I were trying to prepare for the separation we were about to experience. It was a Thursday and he was set to deploy early Saturday morning. He had all his things packed and the only thing that seemed left to do was wait as the seconds ticked by. That Thursday night was the hardest, longest night I had experienced up until that point of my life. (Since then I've pulled several all nighters in a row with two screaming babies so it just goes to show you that everything is relative).

The next morning I left to teach school as if it were any normal day. I was best while at work. There was always endless things to do, children to teach, and colleages to visit with and therefore no time to think about my sick babies or my leaving husband.

Around 9:30 am our school counselor buzzed over the intercom and told me I had a phone call to take. I thought this was odd because under normal circumstances she would just take a message. I asked her to go ahead and take a message and I would call back. She buzzed again and said, "It is your husband and he says he needs to talk to you immediately." My heart immediately sank. I know how the military works. The first time my husband deployed he was given 48 hours notice. As I walked to our school office I was absolutely certain that this urgent call was my husband telling me that he was leaving for Iraq that day. No hug. No kiss. Just the cold telephone receiver and a teary goodbye. I remember trembling. My head was telling my body to return to my classroom because maybe if I didn't talk to him, he wouldn't tell me the awful news. But my body kept walking and before I knew it I had the phone in my hand.

"Kristy?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Well I've got some news."

"Okay. What is it?"

"They pulled me from the deployment. I'm not going. I told them about yesterday's appointment and they pulled me from going. They didn't even give me a chance. You know how I feel about my duty and this responsibility, but they didn't even ask me."

Head spinning - "Ummm...as in YOU ARE NOT GOING TO IRAQ?!?"

"No babe. I'm staying right here."

And that, my readers, was my first miracle.

There aren't words to describe how I felt. I broke down sobbing in front of all the office personnel, was so happy my feet never touched the ground as I returned to my classroom, and then had the honor of explaining to 23 eight years old why exactly I was crying if I was so happy. All of those petty things I prayed for in the past didn't matter. All of the not-so-welcome answers to my petty prayers didn't matter.

This mattered.

And to someone who struggles with faith on a daily basis, the ever faithful One did not falter.

Medically, things had not changed.

I was to continue seeing both my doctors. One I would see every two weeks, the other every week to ten days. And even though my prayers had been answered allowing my husband to help me fight this battle, I was still very much concerned about the health of our girls.

What I realize now is that something amazing happened when my prayers were answered.
While things remained the same medically, they were vastly different emotionally and mentally.
Obviously Shaun got to remain home with me, but an indescribable amount of stress was lifted from my shoulders. Around 21 to 22 weeks pregnant I felt, very literally, that I had someone and Someone helping me carry my load. No pun intended. Perhaps, what I am trying to say is that I finally had some affirmation that things just might possibly end up okay...probably not great, but okay.

It was around this time that I first began to think that perhaps my girls might make it. The horrible anxiety and fear I had of losing Gabby and Lilly never went away until after they were born, but at this point it let up enough to catch my breath.

I also learned just how detrimental stress can be to this imperfect human. Almost immediately after knowing Shaun wouldn't be deploying, I started getting better.

The crying stopped. Duh. :) (Later it did start again, but that was because I was in so much physical pain I couldn't stand it. )

My cervix length, which had started to shorten, became long like the early days of my pregnancy.

But that stuff about me is nothing compared to what this miracle did for my babies. They were cured/healed/did an about-face...whatever you want to call it. The fluid levels stopped shifting and actually returned to equal status. Their weights gradually returned to being more balanced. They grew and grew and grew. All the milestones, like prenatal hiccups and practiced breathing motions ,were achieved. They stopped just be making it or living.

They started thriving.

Miracles do happen.

Even to those of us who question and struggle with faith.

These babies, my babies had work to do in this world and Someone bigger than myself was going to see to it that their work was accomplished.

There was a fabulous 15 weeks that followed in terms of Gabby and Lilly.

There was a short, very short period of bliss that I experienced physically. As what seemed like the eternal incubator, I grew to a size I never thought imaginable. While I expected this in places like my tummy and ankles, no one had warned me about how giganticly swollen my face would be. Picture a severly alcoholic pregnant woman who looks as if she might be carrying the adult size Shaq and you are getting close to what I looked like. 'Super' size had nothing on planet size me.

Around 28 weeks I began to have contractions. Funny thing about contractions while carrying twins and being a first time mother...you don't know that's what is going on. Basically it didn't hurt, but I would get what I called 'bumps.' Very clearly you could see the outline of Gabby's hiney and Lilly's head...two very defined bumps on my grotesquely huge tummy. Even though they only happened when I had physically exerted myself, was riding in the car (driving had stopped...too big to fit safely with the exception of a few doctor's appointments that I had no chauffeur to), or taking a bath, I never made the connection that the 'bumps' were actually my uterus contracting. Embarrasing.

I ended up going to the hospital four times to make sure things were okay. On my first visit I was informed that I was having contractions. Funny thing...every time I got the 'bumps' the machine would read contractions. Isn't technology amazing! HA!

At this time in my pregnancy I was prescribed medication to stop the contractions. It did its job, but with the added side effect of making the babies move less often (or perhaps that was because there was no. more. space. Who knows? But due to the decreased movement, I had to have non-stress tests conducted twice a week to make sure the babies were doing okay.
Seeing my regular OB once a week, non-stress tests twice a week, perinatologist appointments once a week, and my weekly false alarm hospital visits. That was my life. Other than visiting my doctors, all I did was keep the couch from moving. The hardest thing I did most days (besides baking two buns in my oven) was roll from my right to left side. Hard. Painful. Unfortunately not forgettable.

I was also on an awful amount of medication by this point. Daily I took vitamins, iron supplements, and the afore mentioned medication for contractions. I was also having to drink protein shakes daily to help the babies have all the nutrients they needed. Protein has also been shown to decrease the occurence of TTTS, which was still a concern. I had to drink 32 ounces of milk with nasty, chocolate protein powder in it daily. When I realized that I was drinking over 1,000 calories a day in that stuff alone, I almost puked. I just knew I was going to have hundreds of pounds to shed after this pregnancy. Drinking that stuff was the single worst part of carrying twins. And because my husband was seriously concerned about me and the girls, he NEVER let me miss a night. Just when I thought I had gotten away with pretending to be asleep, he'd come set the gigantic class of nastiness of my nightstand and wake me from my pretend sleep. I'm thankful now, but back then I could have kicked him to the couch most nights.

The last hurdle it seemed I had to jump over was blood pressure issues. I had been diagnosed with pre-eclampsia at my first visit with the perinatologist in January. Since that time my blood pressure had steadily gone up and up. There was medication options available, but both my doctors thought that my blood pressure was under control and that it was better not to give me the medication.

I had to stop working at 30 weeks. I should say that I got to stop working at 30 weeks because teaching on my feet all day was torture. Friends and family threw two incredible showers for us in April. All that was missing in our lives was our sweet Gabby and sweet Lilly.

In early May, my doctor and I decided that since I had beaten the odds in all areas it was likely I could make it to 37 weeks. Of course the closer to 40 the better. We scheduled a c-secion for May 21st. I was ecstatic. Of course I could go into labor at anytime, but being that my body seemed decided to be the ultimate baby machine (and that Gabby's head was not dropping no matter how much bribing I tried), it seemd like I might make it to the 21st. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Finally.

On May 14th I went to the doctor for a non-stress test, ultrasound, and regular ob checkup. The non-stress test turned up mixed results. The ultrasound wasn't great either. Lilly's heart beat wasn't accelerating as it should. She also was not practicing breathing movements. These are the first two signs that a baby is in distress. As if that wasn't enough of a reason to deliver early, I weighed in having gained a whopping 12 pounds in 6 days!

My wonderful doctor cautiously told me that we would need to deliver the girls the following morning. He waited and looked at me as if I might explode in anger at the news. My response, "YAY! I'm going to officially be a Mommy!"

Heading to the Hospital! YAY!

35 weeks and 6 days!

I'd never been so big...or so proud!

One last picture of our family of two...

Gabby and Lilly were born on May 15th at 12:53 and 12:55 p.m., respectively. They weight in at 5 lb 6 oz and 5 lb 9 oz. They were the most amazing, beautiful, little shriveled babies I'd ever seen. We spent 5 days in the NICU before returning home on May 21st.

Since that day life has been crazy, wonderful, tiring, happy, inspiring, difficult, exciting, non-stop, joyful, and abundant.

This life wasn't what I had planned.

It is much more.

Much better.

Miracles do happen and dreams do come true.

The first time we held our girls at the same time.

Full arms are a wonderful thing!

Lilly and Gabby

I'd gladly go through every step of this journey again. You are so worth it!