I tease one of the twins about being our problem child, because he was the reason both babies had to be born early via c-section and I had to be hospitalized for 2 weeks prior to delivery. Twin B was perfectly cozy in there, but Twin A decided to be a troublemaker. But, being only a few months old, he doesn't understand what I'm saying. I will probably stop joking about it when he gets old enough to have any inkling what I mean.
Maybe.
The condition I was diagnosed with is called vasa previa. It is one of those rare conditions that, undiagnosed, is life-threatening and terrifying (more than half of babies die)...but managed properly, is easily kept in check. Normally, blood vessels (2 arteries and 1 vein) run between the baby and the placenta, and are protected by a gelatin-like tube (called Wharton's jelly). This forms the umbilical cord. Vasa previa means that one or more of the fetal vessels is running outside the Wharton's jelly covering, unprotected and passing close to the cervix. Any pressure on the cervix (like from labor contractions or water breaking) could rupture those blood vessels.
And that would be bad.
Since we wanted to take home two alive babies, we agreed that I should be hospitalized. A c-section would be scheduled between 35 and 36 weeks, to maximize time in the womb but minimize the risk of spontaneous labor. I would get a steroid shot to help develop their lungs a little faster and reduce the risk of breathing problems and nicu time. Ideally, the twins would stay right where they were until the scheduled c-section, but if labor started earlier than that, I would be in the hospital already and could be rushed to the operating room.
At first I was told that I wouldn't be allowed any visitors because of covid, but the day we checked in, the hospital had loosened their policy and I was allowed one. I was so grateful. My husband came 4 days each week, and my brother (who was living with us at the time) kept an eye on the 8yo at home.
The days in the hospital were a mix of busy and tedious. I couldn't figure out if I was bored or not. I did know I felt stuck, and I stared out the window longingly. People were in and out of my room regularly. Here was the schedule from the first half of the first day: 6:10am the nurse checked my vitals; at 7 the OB on duty checked on me; at 7:30 there was a nurse shift change so they came in to review the switch and the new nurse wrapped my arm in plastic so I could shower; at 8 my breakfast came so I ate it and then showered; 9:30-10:45 the nurse did the fetal monitoring; at 11:15 the high-risk doctor came to check on me; at noon my lunch arrived…
Busy times.
Besides having regular interactions with the staff and eating/showering in peace (I knew once the twins came that would be a thing of the past!), I brought plenty of things to do. I read books, worked on my cross stitch stocking, watched Hamilton twice and 7 episodes of Sweet Magnolias, talked on the phone with lots of people, did yoga, walked the halls countless times, wrote in my journal, had a zoom baby shower with coworkers, attended zoom church and a friend's zoom baptism, and exchanged text and Facebook messages with many friends. I could have binged on Netflix endlessly. But despite having "things" to do, I did also feel bored and lonely. Since I *couldn't* go anywhere, I really really *wanted* to go somewhere. I stared out the window longingly, and fantasized about making a break for it through the double doors that led to freedom...(But not really).
Ultimately I knew that the longer my babies stayed in the better, up until the planned c-section day. And for selfish reasons, I wanted to make it past my birthday, and past our wedding anniversary. So I followed the nurses' instructions, cooperated with the daily fetal monitoring, ate decent meals, slept as much as the environment allowed, and never even ONCE tried to escape.
Yay me.
The twins did their part by being healthy and staying put, and and finally their birthday arrived! After the whirlwind of monitoring, visits by different team members, and signing of consent forms, they took me back to the OR and told my husband that he could come see me once I was all prepped for the surgery. The anesthesiologist gave me my epidural and told me he was so impressed with how calm and relaxed I was (he probably says that to everyone!). When they laid me back on the table, my blood pressure dropped suddenly, to an unacceptably low level (which was a really scary feeling; I felt like I was fading from consciousness. I could hear people asking me questions but was too dizzy to respond). When they couldn't elicit an answer to "Are you okay?" they swapped my face mask for an oxygen tube. The problem resolved quickly and all was well.
During the surgery, the lead anesthesiologist sat on one side of my head and coached me to keep breathing (being flat on my back with pressure on my vena cava, the feeling of not being able to breathe returned, though this time it wasn't actually dangerous - it just didn't feel good.). My husband sat on the other side of my head and held my hand. Overall, the c-section was smooth and at the end, I had two babies!!! I couldn't hold them, but the nurse held them close to my face for a few seconds so I could see them and give them a kiss. What followed was a blur: vitals and APGAR testing for the babies, stitching for me, my husband going back and forth between us trying to be available for whoever needed him. After being transferred to the hospital bed from the operating table (I seriously wondered how they were going to pull that off since I couldn't move and had a freshly-stitched hole in my abdomen, but they managed it expertly! It's like they had done this before!), the babies and I were monitored in the recovery room for a couple hours. Eventually we made it to our postpartum room, ordered our dinner, and settled in.
My husband and I looked at the almost-5lb newborns each swaddled in 2 layers of blankets for warmth, lying fast asleep in their hospital bassinets. Then we looked at each other.
What had we just gotten ourselves into???
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