May 30, 2002 dawned clear, somewhat wonderful; the morning was absolutely stunning from the view of my parents' mountain home. The slopes of the Appalachians dipped and bent in spendid shades of green; the Junebugs buzzed around our yard, and I sat on the poarch swing, wondering about the babies I carried inside of me. They were 36 weeks gestation, and they were active that morning.
My husband came outside to join me. He'd decided to take 6 weeks of leave so I could have my birth experience in "my" state, so I could have my mother, sisters, and nieces with me. This morning, however, he stopped dead in his tracks as the screen door slammed behind him.
"Oh my God, you're huge." It was statement, not a barb. He quickly ran back inside for my favorite instrument: my blood pressure machine. It was the first look he'd had it me this morning, and apparently, I'd dramatically changed in the 30 minutes it took him to shower. When he came back out and hooked the machine around me, I almost reveled in the pressure of the cuff, sqeezing my heartrate to the top of my skin.
He looked at me, worried. He stated he was calling the doc and we were leaving: my blood pressure was 260/145. My dad laughed and said his BPs were like that all the time...and laughed back, but as a I waddled back in the house, I passed a mirror that shocked me: my narrow face had been replaced with bloat. My eyes were almost invisible in the swelling. I looked at my hands, and what normally wore a size 7 ring was now a hand that could barely get in her husband's size 11.
Sliding on flipflops was a struggle. Gently, but quickly, my DH guided me down my stone steps to my Mother's truck. Within in an instant, we were speeding down the highway towards my doctor, who he was frantically calling on the way. It was odd that I was calm, quiet. I think I knew my babies were coming, and I wanted to share a peaceful moment before the quiet moments slipped away. As if on cue, they'd calmed down themselves, and for a few minutes, my son, daughter, and I sat in silence and reveled in the moment.
The doctor's visit was no surprise. They dipped my pee, which came back for "lots of protein", my BP was astronomically high, and the swelling all over was hard to ignore. My doc admitted me on May 30th for severe pre-eclampsia with induction. After that, I had nurses sticking Cervadil in places I don't think DH had ever explored.
Mag Sulfate was started immediately. Pitocin would come at midnight. My fears of au natural labor were beginning to take flight, but I wanted to try, so when the nurses came in at 12AM May 31st, I was waiting for the worst.
They weren't bad at all, but coupled with the MagOx, they weren't very effective. Cranked up the Pit to get me to 4 cm so they'd break my water. That took 12 hours. My water was broken at 12PM. After that, the coupling conrtactions came, where one contraction began before the other ended. The pain was abysmal. The Mag was making me so drowsy, but not enough to reduce the pain. Four hours later the doc check me again. Still 4cm. I begged for an epidural, abandoning my plans, for I hadn't expected this. I'd been in labor for now sixteen hours now, given the medication free birth was a good try...but the epidural calmed me down, relaxed me, let me sleep.
So I did sleep. For about 8 hours off and on. My eyes opened and suddenly, without warning, there was this PRESSURE. I had to poop or something. Can you do that on a bedpan? I wondered. I called the nurse, giving her my dilemma. She smiled in the way knowledgeable OB nurses do, and she asked to check me. I was 10 cm. The first baby was beginning to crown. I had to get to OR immediately, as was standard twin procedure.
"That pressure you feel is the one telling you to push your baby out," she explained as she prepped me to leave. I marvelled at the epidural then, wondering how a tiny catheter in your back could cause a 5 lb baby to feel like...well something a lot less substantial.
They wheeled DH and me to the OR. By then, it was after midnight again. DH was a picture of exhaustion. His green eyes were joyful, but so droopy. I wanted him to be able to rest soon. He'd been so good about my ice chips, my pillows, my cursing and screaming before my epidural. It just made me glad I married him.
Soon I was bathed in the sterile light of the OR. Placed in stirrups I was told to push...1 push turned into 4..then an hour of pushing, but finally Amanda Nakona was born, on June 1, 2002 weighing 5.5 lbs., 20 inches long. She was born at 152 am after 25 hours of true labor.
Seconds later, my son had positioned himself properly, and with just two pushes, Roman James was born at 155 am, weighing 5.8 lbs. 22 inches long. No tears, no rips. Lucky me.
My BP came down after a week-long stay at the hospital. Amanda and Roman had no significant breathing problems, and they roomed with me for a good portion of the week.
Amanda and Roman turned 6 yesterday, and it just seems so...odd. I wanted to share their birth story with ya'll in honor of them. Hope it wasn't too long. Now you know their names too 