Samantha and Easton's birthday.
They were born on a Friday morning, June 3rd.
However, I am going to have to back up a little further for everything to make sense.
The babies' due date was on July 8th. We knew, though, that the chances of the twins actually making it that far was slim to none. I didn't meet any of the qualifications for women who normally carry multiples closer to the due date.
30 years or older
Previously carried a pregnancy full term
By the time May rolled around, I had stopped working and I was in the doctor's office each week for her to give everything a once-over. Each time that I went to see Dr. Bruce, she'd send me somewhere for some sort of testing or preventative this-or-that.
Timeline over a Period of Four Weeks
Visit with Dr. Bruce sends me to the hospital for an overnight stay to determine if I have pre-eclampsia.
I'm sent home that next morning with negatives on all of my tests.
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An at-home nursing service visits to teach me how to monitor myself for signs of pre-eclampsia.
I am given two steroid shots in preparation for the possibility of the twins being born dangerously early.
(The shots will help develop the twins' lungs.)
*
Visit with Dr. Bruce sends me back to the hospital because she is certain I am in labor.
I am dilated several centimeters.
*
I spend five days, six nights in the hospital while undergoing monitoring for contractions that I don't feel and receiving ultrasounds, which have become somewhat boring.
Dr. Bruce assures me that nothing has changed, and I go home.
*
An at-home nursing service returns to teach me how to monitor my own contractions.
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I start having contractions (that I still don't feel, but are shown on the at-home monitor).
Dr. Bruce prescribes an anti-nausea medication to stop contractions.
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Blake and I head to the emergency room because I am sure that my water has broken.
After a couple of hours, it is determined that my water has definitely NOT broken.
(In my defense, I couldn't feel my contractions! I had no idea what was going on...)
*
A Monday morning visit with Dr. Bruce sends me back to the hospital because I have dilated several more centimeters.
She schedules my c-section for the upcoming Friday morning.
I stay in the hospital while the nurses scratch their heads because I can't feel my contractions and I don't want any sleep aids.
Blake's parents and sister drive down from Fort Worth for the birth of the twins.
Friday, June 3rd, 2011
The morning the twins were scheduled to arrive was strangely calm and fluid. I got up extra early (I was told to be ready by 6:00AM for my 8:00AM surgery) and took a long shower knowing that I wasn't going to be allowed back in the shower for a few days... Gross.
After the shower, Blake and I laid on the tiny hospital bed together dozing in and out as though we knew it was going to be awhile before we got much sleep again. Once Blake's parents and sister arrived at the hospital, the minutes began to rush past.
A nurse came in to put in my IV, and Blake pulled scrubs over the jeans and t-shirt that I had packed weeks before.
I moved into a wheelchair, all the while trying not to let the emotion of my mother not being there damage such a joyful occasion.
Once I got into the operating room, I just kept replaying in my head all of the "Baby Story" episodes that I'd seen. I knew what was coming, right?!
While Blake waited in a small room for the approval to come sit by my head, I received my epidural. It was insanely painless, and I was confused as to why so many women freak out about the tiny needle...
Okay, so maybe I didn't actually look at the needle because I was afraid it would put me into a panic.
After the epidural was placed, the doctor explained that either he was just awesome or I had a really high pain tolerance. (Maybe that would explain the lack of feeling of the contractions? Or maybe he was just really awesome?) Having the epidural was the strangest sensation. I've always heard that you can feel pressure, but I could feel my toes wiggling!
I was determined not to panic as the trays of utensils were wheeled out, as someone poked me with some scissors, and as I was painted with iodine.
"Where was Blake?"
Those nurses seriously wait to the final second before letting the husband in.
Blake barely had time to sit down before he was standing back up to take pictures of our babies being brought into the world.
Meanwhile I was trying not to let my curiosity get the best of me. I could almost make out what the doctors were doing in a small reflection on the rim of the surgical lamp directly above my head.
I knew Samantha had been born when I felt a release of pressure on my left lung.
Whoosh.
And then, there she was. Dangling over the sheet.
Blake was taking pictures, and I was amazed at the truth that a child had just emerged from my abdominal region.
It was 9:01AM.
And then Easton was there.
He appeared considerably larger even though he weighed only an ounce more at 5 lbs., 7 oz.
It was 9:02AM.
I saw my babies that had been kicking the crap out of my kidneys,
that had been doing flips,
that had been punching each other,
that had made nights so uncomfortable and standing so hard.
As quickly as they came, they were gone.
Whisked away to the NICU, Blake bounded after them.
I felt a sleepy comfort, and I was put back together before heading to recovery, which was nothing more than a curtained room surrounded by other women who had just given birth.
Blake made his way between me and the twins giving me updates and showing me pictures that he had taken.
"The babies are perfect."
"Samantha has a little fluid on her lungs, but she's just fine."
"My mom and dad and Heather are watching them get baths."
"The babies are doing wonderfully."
Back in the hospital room that I had already spent so much time in, I was positioned back in my bed.
Easton was brought in.
He was beautiful and lovely.
He cried and ate. Blake changed his diaper, and he was passed around between his grandmother, grandfather, and father. And then, he was back in my arms.
A few hours later Samantha was brought to us.
She was tiny and reminded me of a porcelain doll.
After all the tears, disappoint, pain, money, heartache, shots, and fear, they were here.
At 35 weeks, Samantha Rae and Easton Miles were perfect.
The doctors and nurses were amazed.
Blake and I were...
...and still are...
...in love.
That's really sweet, I love the video! I didn't cringe or jump with my epidural either it was a cake walk!
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