Last Thursday we wrote our first post dealing with the events leading up to Clara's and Wilson's births. This post further describes how Clara and Wilson ultimately ended up joining us 14 weeks before they were due. Clara and Wilson each turn one year old this Sunday. We are publishing this final post on the events of their birth slightly in advance of their one year anniversary because Sunday is reserved solely for the celebration of what they have accomplished. Again, this post is not for everyone.
The 48 hours after Chris' water broke were horrific. The doctors explained that Chris stood a 75% chance of giving birth during the first 48 hours and, if they were born, Clara and Wilson had a 25% chance or less of surviving. Chris remained on the magnesium sulfate drip for roughly 24 hours to slow contractions. During that time she was injected with a steroid to create surfactant in the babies' lungs. The steroid needed 48 hours to achieve the maximum effect and was the only thing that would increase Clara's and Wilson's chance of surviving birth. Thus, the stress of waiting began.
Chris was on complete bed rest for the first full day after her water broke. The catheter remained in place and she literally could not get out of bed unless she needed to be wheeled down the hall for an ultrasound. That Wednesday (the day after her water broke) remains somewhat of a blur. We talked to family, doctors, and I constantly watched the contraction and heart rate monitors for any signs of alarm.
On Thursday, we had our first scare. The contraction monitors had not been kind for the past few hours and, when Chris needed to be changed, it was obvious blood was coming out with the constantly leaking amniotic fluid. The nurses hoped it was stress and decided to give Chris something to calm her down and, hopefully, force her to sleep. Before receiving the drugs, we prayed. Chris then asked to speak with our minister alone and my mom and I quietly filed out of her room. He came out a few minutes later, she went to sleep, and we all waited in the hall. A few hours later, all things being relative, she was fine.
I still don't know exactly what was said, but this was miracle number one in what has been a year full of them. We made it through the first 48 hours and Chris' contractions began to level off. Since that time we've discussed what we were feeling and thinking. I confessed to Chris that I never told her exactly what the contraction monitors showed or what the doctors said could be happening. She got a weird smile upon hearing this revelation and told me she never told me how scared she was by the fact she could feel Clara's spine through her belly. I've remained amazed that Chris was trying to protect other people during this extremely personal crisis.
By Friday we were hopeful. We defied the first set of odds and our positive outlook was returning. Chris, by nature, is an amazingly goal-oriented person. She quickly set a goal of getting to at least 34 weeks and would pepper the medical staff with questions of whether her goal was possible and if there was anything she could do to accomplish that feat. Friends and family were also allowed to visit and Chris' spirits were lifted by every visitor, every card, and every gift. One of my favorite memories from our time in the hospital is from that Saturday night when I brought Chris' favorite pizza and a copy of the Godfather to the room and we had our Italian "date night."
We continued celebrating making it through every morning, every afternoon, and every night. I went back to work the following Monday and on Tuesday we celebrated making it one week after Chris' water broke. Chris' Mom came into town and gave me a chance to get a little extra rest while she stayed at the hospital to help Chris during the night.
The celebrations were ultimately short-lived. By Wednesday night, Chris was noticeably concerned and told me something didn't feel right. We had a rough night. She wasn't feeling any better Thursday afternoon and I went back to the hospital. By Thursday evening, Chris was in excruciating pain. She was convinced she was having contractions and, every so often, would abruptly stiffen in pain as she strangled the handrails on her hospital bed. The nurses hovered but could not detect any contractions. They were convinced she was having braxton hicks contractions, but decided to leave the contraction monitors on and, once again, gave her something to calm her down and help her sleep. Unfortunately, sleep never came.
This time the pain kept Chris awake. Around 2:00 a.m. one of the nurses asked her about her pain level and Chris said it was probably a 5 or a 6 on a scale from 1 - 10. I followed the nurse out of the hospital room and let her know that Chris admitting to her pain being at a "5 or 6" was the same as any normal human saying their pain was at a "10". I let them know they were dealing with a woman who tore her meniscus and then skied for five days because she didn't want to miss out on the ski trip. Chris might not have admitted to a pain level of "10" during delivery. By this time, the hospitalist, Dr. Baker, was aware of what was going on in our room and stayed close.
The next four hours were tense. Chris continued to suffer incredible pain while we both helplessly waited to see if this was another blip or something worse. Unfortunately, the doctors could not give Chris anything to slow her contractions because, if one of our babies had an infection, it would be worse for them to stay in utero.
Around 6:00 a.m., the decision was finally made to put Chris on a muscle relaxer. They removed the contraction and heart rate monitors so Chris could use the bathroom and the nurse left to get the medication. I helped Chris out of bed and was waiting by the sink when she called to me and, in a calm but worried voice, quietly confided "I think I feel something between my legs." I tried to mimic her calm by telling her I would be right back, but bolted out of her room into the hall. I immediately saw Dr. Baker talking with several nurses and bluntly blurted out "Chris feels something between her legs!!!"
I know I sounded like an idiot but, as they had been for the duration of our stay, the nurses and doctors were prompt and professional. They swarmed into Chris' room and got her back in bed to check things out while I waited in the hall. Dr. Baker purposefully came out of the room and said "Dad, you need to follow me to delivery." One of the nurses trailing him looked at me and said "it's a foot about to come out."
Chris was wheeled in her hospital bed to a delivery room. By that time a team of neonatalogists and high-risk OBGYN's had been dispatched. It was also shift change so several of the nurses stayed on to make sure we were alright. Things were happening so quickly I never put on scrubs or even washed my hands. I just held onto Chris while wearing one of my oldest undershirts, workout shorts, and a pair of loafers that I had worn to work the previous day.
There were at least five doctors, probably more, in the operating room and twice as many nurses. Some of them helped me try to keep Chris calm as she delivered Clara naturally, breach, with no pain relief. Clara was immediately taken by the neonatalogists, put on a ventilator, and whisked away in an isolette. Not knowing what we would see, we declined to look at her before they took her to the NICU.
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| Even though it was early, we still celebrated the day Clara and Wilson born. |
What happened next was possibly the weirdest part of our entire ordeal. Wilson's amniotic sac survived Clara's violent and unexpected birth intact. The doctors placed what they could back inside, brought in an ultrasound monitor and debated leaving Wilson in for the duration of his pregnancy. I held onto Chris and alerted the family to everything that was happening. Eventually, the doctors decided Wilson should also leave the confines of Chris' womb. We left the initial operating room and Wilson was brought into the world via C-section a few hours after Clara was born. Not long after that we made our way to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and met our children for the first time.
The rest of the story has been chronicled in this blog. Now you know what happened the first few weeks. The doctors told us every day Chris kept the babies in her womb saved them 5-7 days in the NICU. More importantly, she likely she saved Clara's and Wilson's lives. Her courage, compassion, and commitment is rewarded by every gesture, smile, and sound from our two beautiful children.
We also wouldn't be here without you. The prayers, love, and support we received were unbelievable and unforgettable. From the crew of people who helped get our house ready for Chris to come home, to everyone who visited the hospital, made us a meal, helped with the kids, sent us a card, or simply followed the blog, thank you. You made our bad days better and our good days great. The knowledge that we weren't alone propelled us through this roller coaster ride. It also hopefully made us better people, parents, and friends. We hope you'll stay with us for the rest of the journey.
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