I had my follow-up appointment with my OB today. (All is well there.) He was asking about the babies and telling me about another patient of his who was pregnant with twins. She ruptured her membranes at 27 weeks and started contracting. They gave her all of the same meds that I had and she went into heart failure--a side effect I wasn't aware of at the time I was going through trying to stop labor. Her family has to deal with two very sick babies and a very sick mom. Scary.

That really put things into perspective for me. While it has been rough having the babies in the NICU, things could have been so much worse. I could have delivered at 26 or 27 weeks when I first ruptured Ja.son's sack. The meds could have failed to stop the contractions I had during those two precious weeks.

I could have had something happen to me from all of the medication I was on, something much worse than all of the drama I went through after their birth (which included being scheduled for exploratory surgery for a bowel obstruction and a quarantine among other fun stuff).

While things are not ideal, and won't be until the babies are actually home, we are fortunate. I definitely will remember that.

As 2007 draws to a close, I have been reflecting on the wildness of the past year. So much has happened! The pinnacle, of course, being our little Sh.awn and Ja.son. I look forward to this next year--bringing the boys home, sleepless nights, formula stained clothing for all of us, holding the boys until they are spoiled--and loving every minute of it.

Happy New Year! May 2008 bring much love and happiness to all of us!

The boys are getting their two month shots today. They will start with three and then get two others twelve hours later (Diptet, Polio, Hepatitis, among others). They will also get Tylenol every four hours for the next day to help ward off any signs of fever. It isn't going to be a good day for them.

Is.aac and I have been repeating a scene from "Raising Arizona" over and over again. It is where Glen and Dot tell the main characters, Ed and H.I., that they need to get their baby, Jr., immunized. "He's just got to have his Diptet!" (say that with a Southern drawl)

The scene starts at 3:50 but I couldn't figure out how to cut this down to that one part. So, here is the whole thing.



Diptet - Check

pediatrician - Check

Bank account [for the orthodonture and university (times two)] - Uhhhh, nope

Life insurance - Check

Whew. We're doing okay so far!

This movie ranks among Is.aac's top ten favorites. The way H.I. talks always makes us laugh. If you haven't seen it, we recommend it.

Notice Anything Different?

Do you notice anything about Sh.awn?



Nope, it isn't the new hat. Although, now that I look at it, it is kind of cute. For a hat that is.



Nope, it isn't the cool lip curl Sh.awn can do now.



Nope, it isn't the smashing profile.



Hmmm...What could it be? You're right, he's cannula FREE!

Today when I went in to visit, the respiratory technician came over to say that they had turned off Sh.awn's oxygen earlier that day. She told me not to tell Sh.awn that they had turned it off so he wouldn't try any funny business or something. :-) If he continued to keep his oxygen levels up without the support, they were going to take out his cannula. And they did! Yeah!!!!! Now keep your fingers crossed that he can keep his oxygen levels up from here on out and stay off the nasty cannula for good. (He does have a tendency to drop his oxygen levels when he strains/pushes out his poop, though. Apparently that is common for babies. Made me wonder if my oxygen levels go down during that time, too. The NICU makes you think of the strangest things!)

One step closer to home...

******

I can't wait for the boys to come home. I put two and two together today and figured out that the hand soap we have to use in the NICU make my hands break out in hives that itch like crazy. Oh, the fun never stops.

The Boys Are Together At Last!

The boys had yet another move. This time, they were finally moved together in the same crib! We had no idea this was coming today, either. Imagine my surprise when I walked in to find Ja.son's crib/tub missing. I nearly had a heart attack! It took me a second to realize what was going on.

Here is the new crib--and it actually looks like one, too!




Me trying to console the boys. Both were crying at the same time. It is going to be fun when they do that at home. (Yes that was sarcasm.)


They're a little dark so we didn't wake the boys up with the flash.

Sh.awn and Is.aac...





Me and Ja.son...





Sh.awn is a little like me.

Exhibit A: Here I am with Ja.son. Notice the "look" I'm giving Is.aac.



Exhibit B: Here is Sh.awn. Notice the "look" he's giving Is.aac.



Poor Is.aac. What did he ever do to get such looks from everyone?

The NICU gave out stockings to all the babies on Christmas. A former patient brings them every year. She wrote a letter and filled the stockings with pencils and small things like that. It was really sweet. We took some pictures of the boys with them...




Here is Sh.awn showing his disinterest in the whole picture taking scene...

"Whatever!" says Sh.awn.

Ja.son could care less, too...



We also got the good news that Sh.awn had his oxygen turned off today at around 1:00pm. If he continues without his oxygen levels dropping, they are taking out his cannula this afternoon. I hope he'll be cannula free when I go back tonight! The bottle thing is still evading him much of the time. I can usually coax him into taking up to 1/2 of his feed by bottle when I am there, but he wants nothing to do with the bottle when I am not there.

Ja.son is now taking 1/2 to 2/3 of his formula by bottle for each feed. Yeah! He is still on a minimal amount of oxygen, but he is sooooo close to coming off of his cannula, too!

This is just a quick post to tell you the good news. We have been moved to the special care room. That puts us even closer to coming home! We are getting so close I can feel it! I guess that it will be sometime within the next two weeks (knock, knock, knock on wood).

Isaac fed Jason last night and he took 20 mls (just under an ounce) by bottle before he succumbed to sleep. I fed Shawn. He impressed me by taking 20 mls of formula by bottle, too; his highest intake since he got sick. Of course, he promptly spit a lot of it back up, but we worked that bottle to get it down in the first place! (And I managed to walk away without any formula on me. Ha!)

Jason is now up to 6 pounds 12 ounces and Shawn is 6 pounds 9 ounces. They are almost out of preemie clothes. (They fit best when they curl their legs up; otherwise, they are a smidgen too short!)

The boys had head ultrasounds on Saturday, and things are looking really good. Jason's u/s showed no inflammation. The doctor said that it looks like there is little evidence of him having hydrocephalus at all! Woohoo! He still thinks that there should be little if any residual effects from his whole episode. (Of course he can't see the future, but he said that if he had to guess, he didn't think that there would be many if any problems for him in the future from this.) Shawn's u/s showed one ventricle with no inflammation and the other with mild/moderate inflammation--much less than he had on last week's scan. He hasn't had any more seizures and he has been off the seizure meds for over a week. We are definitely heading in the right direction!

Christmas was a little bittersweet because the boys weren't with us at home, but I am not complaining. My boys are on their way to recovery, and that is the best gift ever!

Happy Holidays!

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope that each and every one of you have a happy holiday season, peaceful time with family and friends, and a wonderful 2008!

**Updated at the bottom**

Every now and then I need to remind myself to stop and think about how blessed I am. It is easy for me to get caught up in the day to day living and forget that. I have two beautiful boys, a wonderful husband and family, two loving cats, a nice home, and great friends who care. I am lucky and I know it.

The change I feel in my outlook is incredible. I don't know if I am finally leveling out my hormones or what, but I think I am getting back to the real me. I love feeling this way.

The boys are doing so well. Ja.son's head ultrasounds now show little to no inflammation in his ventricles. The neurologist (at our home hospital) was very impressed. So far there are no indications that he will have any lasting effects from this whole ordeal except for two scars and his shunt. His head size has decreased almost back to "normal". Sh.awn is also doing better. His ultrasounds show his ventricles are still inflamed, but his condition was more severe than Ja.son's and it has only been two weeks. They did another EEG on him and took him off the anti seizure medication. All indications so far are that his seizures were from the trauma of the surgery and not some lasting condition. His head size has also decreased.

The doctors haven't said anything about when the boys may come home and to be honest, I haven't asked. I feel like it shouldn't be too much longer, and that is enough for me right now. While I would love for them to be home for Christmas, I don't think that will happen.

My fav. doctor here said that there were several notations in the boys' charts about us. The "us" probably means me. He laughed about it and said that they were about us being overly concerned about the boys' care. Can you be "overly concerned" about the care your children are receiving? I just have to shake my head at it and be thankful for leaving that place. He also said that he had a hard time getting information about the boys also, so he can't imagine how it was for us. His communication improved with them at about the same time I had my blow-up there and yelled at everyone. I figure that was because the old hospital decided they wanted us out.

Getting them transferred back to this hospital was more challenging than it should have been. The old hospital waited until the last moment to get approval from our insurance. (We were told that they weren't used to working with insurance!) This was on Friday afternoon. Apparently, the person at the insurance office handling our case went home without approving the move. This led the old hospital to call this hospital and ask them to authorize the transfer. There were quite a few calls back and forth with the end result being that this hospital said they couldn't. The old hospital called the directors of this hospital to complain about the nurses that had been dealing with them during this whole thing. They said these nurses were deliberately trying to prevent the move and other such dribble. This went on all weekend.

The boys were moved on Monday. Sh.awn came first. He was still intubated (12 days) because they didn't want to extubate him before the move and his infections were still bad. He was here a half an hour before these doctors extubated him. Fav. Dr. said that Sh.awn had grown out the bacteria the other hospital was treating him for at this hospital, too, but he wasn't symptomatic. I think fav. Dr. thinks that he had all of these medications and was left on the vent so long for nothing (although he hasn't directly said that). The lung x-rays also cleared up quickly after the tube was removed. It just burns me up that the old hospital made him suffer for so long for NOTHING!!!!!

I was there when Ja.son came over. It was funny to watch the staff from the old hospital look around at this hospital. They commented about how quiet it was and how small. I wouldn't swear to it, but I think they turned their noses up at it, too. That whole belief that this place couldn't be as good as their hospital was evident on their faces.

I have decided that I am going to write a letter to the other hospital. The overall experience was horrendous, but there were a few nurses that I know were caring and supportive. I appreciate them and will name them in my letter. I will also detail my concerns with the system and the care the boys received while at that hospital and my outrage that the doctors had difficulty dealing with "overly concerned" parents. What they do with the letter will be in their hands. I think once I have done that, I am going to put it all behind me the best I can.

You may have noticed that I activated comment moderation. I am sorry to have had to do it. It seems I have an anonymous poster who is emailing and commenting about his/her belief that I caused this to happen to the boys. I want to say to that person that I will make a far better parent to my boys than you ever could so keep your damn opinions to yourself.

Okay, I am off to see my precious babies. Sigh. I am in total love!

Oh, I am working on pictures of Shawn, too! Should be up shortly...

Ja.son's pictures:
I'll let these speak for themselves...

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

**Updated to add these**

These are the most recent pictures of Sh.awn...

We're back at our hospital. I can't say enough about how happy I am. The doctors have already changed quite a few things about the boys' treatment and I have seen a huge improvement in just a few days.

The biggest difference about this hospital and the last (I still have so much to tell you about the final days at the other hospital) is that the people here care about the boys and us. They wanted us back here. They called several times a week to check on their progress and ask when they would be returned to them. (The other hospital never told us that.) The boys are called "our babies" when the nurses talk about how big they are or how much they've changed. They know the boys' names and recognize them! We are more than a "case" here. We are people. And they expect the boys to do well. It is wonderful.

Both boys are now in cribs and starting back up on nippling. (We had started working on this skill pre-surgery, but they lost a lot of what they had learned while they were recovering.)

I am feeling so much more optimistic now!

Things have been crazy here so I haven't been on much this week. (And I have so much to tell you about!) Anyway, I just wanted to say that we are waiting for the insurance to approve the transfer of the boys back to our local hospital! As soon as it is authorized, the boys will be on their way!

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu... (Stacie leaves the room happily humming)

This is a brief post. I just wanted to let you know some highlights while I am waiting to go to the hospital...

*Ja.son is off his vent and feedings are up to 15ml again. He is looking good so far. The infection in his lungs seems to be either gone or on its way to being gone.

*Sh.awn got a fever on Sunday night. They though that the shunt may be infected so they did a tap. The tap caused a seizure (a second seizure was observed by the nurse but the doctors won't confirm that it was on because they didn't see it). Seizures have stopped and the theory is that the tap was the cause. (I hope this is the last one). The prelim report on the tap shows no infection thankfully. We're still waiting for the final lab report.

*Sh.awn's lung infection has moved to pneumonia. They are giving him a med to reduce water retention. He is also on antibiotics. He is still on his vent. It has been a long "24 hours".

*They think Sh.awn may have a bladder infection. Urine analysis prelim report showed no bacteria. We're still waiting for the final lab results on this, too.

*The blood in Sh.awn's stool hasn't returned. They did give him meds rectally, so that can be a cause. Plus, he may have had irritation from either his feeding tube (which he continues to pull out at every chance) or vent. Still no signs of NEC, so we are very happy about this.

*Ja.son's lung has recovered from the collapse. No damage seen on x-rays.

*Ja.son's shunt is doing its job and the swelling is reduced. His head size has decreased also.

*Sh.awn's head ultrasound shows some minor reduction in swelling. His condition was worse than Jason's, so this is no surprise. His head size has reduced a half a centimeter. There is still a risk for clogging in his shunt, but so far no evidence of that.

*We had a huge discussion with the entire team working on the boys AND the director of the NICU. I will definitely tell more about it when I get more time. Let's just say that I did well and I am very proud of myself. Kept my cool the entire time. The social worker said these words, "You are very unusual parents. The doctors are used to working with parents who don't really want to know what is happening to their children. They want to know know if the baby is having a good day or bad and that is it." How sad is that? I knew from the very beginning that the doctors didn't know how to work with parents who are very involved in their babies' care. We are now receiving calls updating us about the babies instead of us having to hunt them down all time time.

*I love my babies. I still struggle with guilt, though, when I see how much they are going through. Did talk to the social worker about it and she said that it isn't uncommon. I am working on getting over it because I do know that it is counter productive.

Huh, this ended up being longer than I thought. I am off to the hospital. I'll update more tomorrow.

**Updated at the bottom**

The good times just keep a comin'. Sh.awn now has traces of blood in his stool. They don't know why, but it is there. The doctors are "keeping a close eye on it" and waiting for more before they do anything. They did say that this couldn't be from the surgery (duh) so that means that something happened in the NICU itself. When asked why they aren't being more aggressive to find the cause of the blood in the stool, they down played that it was even there. That is the pattern. They tell us that something is going on in an off handed kind of way just so they can say that they informed us. Then when we press the issue, they say that it really isn't anything significant. When I stress my point that something that is new IS significant and deserves investigation and not the wait and see approach, I am being difficult. They stop talking to me and address only Isaac. I am not being unreasonable, nor am I being combative. I am just questioning their decisions, and they don't want to deal with me.

Looks like both boys have bacterial infections (same bacteria in both of them) from their intubation tubes. Hmm...wonder how that happened? I am so sick of the "I don't knows" and the blanket excuse that they are premature and this is how premature infants react. I might have believe that an infection was just a freak thing if one of the boys got one. But both? And the same bacteria? Give me a break. So you tell me that a collapsed lung is a preemie thing? You're saying that an infection from a tube is a preemie thing. No. These are things that happen because of sloppy work.

This is a teaching hospital. I struggle with that, too. Being a teacher myself, I understand the need for hospitals like this. Students need the opportunity to practice what they learn. I just don't want them learning on my babies. And the knowledge that many of the doctors I deal with are learning makes me feel like I need to ask even more questions about the babies' care.

Sadly, the attending in charge of the NICU doesn't make me feel any more confident in that place than the interns, residents, and fellows. I did tell her (the attending) that I would like the opportunity to speak to her supervisor on Monday. No one with any "power" is there on the weekends. We'll see how much work it will take to make that happen.

If the NICU life is so hard for us, what must this experience be like for the poor families without education or insurance or both? Both Is.aac and myself have good insurance and don't need to worry about the cost of all the care the boys are getting. I can't even imagine what the NICU care will cost. We are educated and do our research on what is going on with the boys. We come prepared to talk to the doctors and nurses with questions. I take notes on what we are told (mostly now so I can tell the who said what) and check dr. google about what they tell us. And still we are struggling maneuvering through all of this crap.

I really do think that this hospital and the staff are not used to dealing with people who ask questions about their child's care. They all get flustered and defensive. The more pointed a question is, the worse they are.

I am still pushing to have them moved back to our original hospital. Shit, the original hospital can give the boys just as many infections and collapse their lungs, too, if that is what this hospital is worried about. We don't want the boys to miss out on all of this excellent care or anything. At least then I would be close enough to visit whenever I wanted. (Isaac didn't think that my arguments should include that last little bit, but I am so tempted to use it anyway!)

***************

Thank you for the comments everyone. It does make me feel better to know that I am not just over reacting and that you all would do similar things. Plus, you are giving me valuable advice on how to proceed. I do appreciate it and please keep suggesting things!

**************** Updated

In response to a comment by the Madeira Triplets:

God, Jody, this scared the crap out of me! We called to ask about NEC. They assured us that they had done four clinical tests and ruled it out for now. They will continue to evaluate Sh.awn for NEC, though. I will go more in depth about it with the doctor tonight when I see the babies. I swear if it isn't one thing, it is another.

I had the feeling that there was a reason they had mentioned the blood in the stool the way they did. Had I been the one talking to them instead of Is.aac, I would have asked further questions about it. It had already rang some warning bells in my head when Isaac told me what they said. Sneaky bastards! Sigh.

Thank you so much!

My reputation preceded me at the hospital. I could almost feel the dread the nurses felt when they heard we were there to see the babies. We had been in the NICU for all of a minute before we were told they had called for the fellow on call. How is that for service? We've been going to that hospital for two weeks now, and I can count the number of times I've talked to a doctor face to face on one hand. If getting irate was all I needed to do to get to talk to one, then I should have done it a long time ago.

I was not a happy camper and everyone knew it. I had already had a run in with the security guards when I entered the hospital* so I was in the mood to have a knock down drag out with whoever pissed me off.

The fellow came within five minutes. He had a little resident flunky with him and introduced himself. The flunky remained nameless--probably in her best interest. He went into a little spiel about how he was there to answer any questions we may have and other such dribble. He asked for it...

I drilled him with questions about the babies' treatment and why the doctors were doing what they were doing. I was doing my best to listen to him and not be argumentative. It was still evident that I was royally pissed off and not happy, but I wasn't being difficult at that point.

And then he made his fatal error.

He literally asked us if we understood what the intubation tube was for. My mouth dropped as I stared at him. Surely his question was rhetorical. My boys are 12 weeks premature and are 6 weeks old. I have seen my fair share of breathing tubes and have a clear understanding of what they are for.

Have you have ever watched the television show "Scrubs"? You know how the main character, JD, has these weird fantasies about things? I had one of those fantasies. In my mind I had reached over and beat the shit out of that stupid doctor. He was in a bloody heap on the floor. I stood over him with a huge smile of satisfaction.**

When I came to, the silence had lasted too long. He was serious. He really thought we were idiots. Is.aac finally gave him an answer.

I had had enough. Things again went down hill from there. I started hushing him when he annoyed me. (I literally held up my hand to shut him up quite a few times.) I kept redirecting him to the whys, and he really couldn't answer me.

Now I get that the treatment for the babies should be dictated by what the babies are doing and needing. If they show they need something, then that is what is done. But, when you can't tell me what is happening to the babies that suggests the treatment you are following, then we have a problem.

At one point, he took us over to look at the x-rays for Ja.son. Yes, his right lung collapsed. Apparently, the breathing tube wasn't in the correct place and his right lobe wasn't receiving air to keep it open. They fixed the tube and the latest x-ray showed the lung is opening. At least they addressed that problem they created. (Good God they better hope that this didn't damage his lung.)

So I asked whether Sh.awn had x-rays and what they showed. Can you believe he tried to tell me that HIPAA said he couldn't show me Sh.awn's x-rays and that he shouldn't have showed me Ja.son's?

So what that he had left Ja.son's x-ray up on the screen for the remainder of the time we were there. Seems to me that leaving Ja.son's x-ray up for everyone in the NICU to see for hours was much more of an invasion of private health information than talking to the minor patients' parents about an x-ray.

So what do I do?

I need to be able to have some trust that this place and the doctors there will do what is best for the babies. I am definitely not there, and I am not sure I will ever get there at this point. Short of being at the hospital all the time, I don't know how I can ensure that the babies are well taken care of.

I asked for them to put in the charts that I need to be notified of all changes for the babies. Didn't happen. Both babies had blood transfusions and I wasn't notified. In fact, if Ja.son didn't have his transfusion going when we got there, we again probably wouldn't have known that they both had them. I told them it was in the chart that I need to be notified, and low and behold no one wrote it down when I had told them to before. (I had told the attending doctor to make sure it was added to the chart.) I asked them to write it then. Watched them write. Now will I be notified? I will be surprised if I am.

They thought I was a problem this morning. They haven't seen anything yet.

*After two weeks of going to the hospital with my camera, they wouldn't let me take it in with me today. They said I needed written proof that the nurses will allow me to use it. They wanted me to take it back to my car and not bring it into the hospital. Let's just say that they began to rethink this error in judgement after I said a few choice words and demanded to talk to their supervisor. It is a good thing they thought better, because I had already sized up the guards and was about to take them out one by one.

**This propensity for violence really isn't like me. I don't like conflict and try to avoid it at all costs normally. I try my best not to offend people or be rude. That all went out the window now that we have the babies. You better stay out of my way, or I'm a gonna take you down!

I feel like I have been run over by a truck. I have been having trouble sleeping and when I do finally get to sleep, it definitely isn't restful. Last night, I finally fell asleep on the couch at around 1:20am. I had tried to sleep through out the evening, but it just wasn't happening. To say I am exhausted is a complete understatement.

Yesterday's procedures went as well as we could have expected. We got to the hospital at 6am to meet with the doctors and talk to the babies before their procedures. I knew that we would hurry up to be at the hospital on time (which meant a 3:45am wake up for us) just to sit and wait. They scheduled the time so you would think it would be reasonable to be there on time, right? Wrong. The first doctor showed up at 7:10. Figures.

Anyway, we spoke to the doctors about the actual procedures, asked questions, discussed post-op expectations, and signed paperwork. I felt as confident as I could have in the neurosurgeon. (Is it possible to be completely confident in someone who will be cutting into your babies' heads?) He had done the procedure many times--I asked--and would have another doctor in there with him while he worked on the boys. I was just as comfortable with the anesthesiologist as I was with the neurosurgeon.

They finally made us leave the NICU (it was a shift change and the cited HIPAA as the reason) just as they called for the travel isolette for Sh.awn. He would go first, come back, and then they would take Ja.son. We kissed them goodbye and went to wait.

And wait.

The neurosurgeon came in after Sh.awn's procedure to talk to us about things went. The procedure went well, but Sh.awn still had some old blood from his bleed left in the fluid from his ventricle. The doctor explained that it means that Sh.awn was having a hard time breaking it down himself and that it raised the risk of clogging the shunt. Just what we need. Another increased risk.

The neurosurgeon came back after Ja.son's procedure. Ja.son did well, his ventricular fluid was clear, and was being sent back to the NICU as we spoke.

We were back to waiting until both boys were situated in the NICU before they would "let" us back in to see them. (I hate that these people have the power to let me see the boys are not.)

When we finally got to see them, they both looked so small and quiet. Neither moved. Ja.son was still sedated from the surgery. Sh.awn had been given morphine to help with pain. Both had bandages on the backs of their heads and on their bellies. They both had breathing tubes down their throats again. It was so hard to see them there like that. It felt like all the progress they had made over the last several weeks to get off of those stupid tubes had been wiped away in a matter of hours.

The NICU doctors didn't want us to disturb them or touch them and made a big stink about it. God that was hard. I so wanted to just touch their little hands to let them know that I was there. Even if they were sedated, I just wanted them to know I was there and that I loved them. Had I been a little stronger emotionally, I would have fought them and did it anyway, but I was worn down and couldn't even think. I settled with putting my hand on the isolette near their faces and telling them I loved them through the glass.

They shouldn't have had to go through all of that. They just shouldn't have. It breaks my heart to think of all they had to go through.

We stayed for awhile just watching them sleep. I found a bag of Ja.son's hair on his isolette. I don't know why it didn't occur to me that they would shave their heads. I guess I didn't think things through that far. It was another jab into my heart. I had to ask if they kept Sh.awn's. Thankfully, they did.

We left the hospital at about 3:00pm, exhausted and raw. I cried a little on the way home. I hadn't let myself do that until then. Is.aac was quiet until we got home, and then started complaining of stomach pains and cramps. (I hope he isn't getting an ulcer or something.) He finally fell asleep.

I just sat on the couch absentmindedly watching television and staring at the walls until I was able to fall asleep last night. I worried about the boys. I worried about Is.aac. I worried about myself and my ability to take care of the boys in the way that they deserve. Thoughts jumped through my mind all night. It wasn't fun.

I called to check on the boys this morning, and both are still intubated (on breathing tubes). Neither had had food for about thirty-six hours at that point. We were told yesterday that they would be intubated for twenty-four hours at the max. When I asked them why they still had tubes, they circled the questions and evaded the answers. I went through two nurses (the boys have different nurses today), a fellow, and the attending before I could get anything out of them. I got changing stories and nothing was the same from person to person.

The attending said that this morning's x-ray showed that Ja.son had a partial collapse of the upper right lobe in his lung so he would probably be intubated for awhile longer. They didn't call us to tell us that and barely even mentioned it when I was talking to them. If I hadn't asked about it, they would have acted like there was nothing wrong. I couldn't get any answers as to why/how this could happen.

She couldn't really say why Sh.awn was still intubated. All she would say is that they don't want to rush him and that they are weaning him off of it. They weren't giving him any pain medication other that Tylenol and they weren't sedating him. They were just letting him lie there uncomfortable. I was all over that, too. It is ridiculous to do that to someone, especially a baby!

Any warm and fuzzy feelings I had had about this hospital--and there weren't many--dissolved today while I was on the phone. They will take care of my babies in a caring, professional manner. I don't care what it takes either. I had them write on the chart that I wanted to be notified for any changes, whether that is to their status, medication, or skin color. They are to notify me about any changes to the boys period. The doctor there when I go in today will be hating life. I am so upset that calling me a bitch from hell could be an accurate description. They will answer me and explain what is going on if it is the last thing they do!

And I will continue to push to have the boys moved to the hospital here. Stupid people.

Well, we are home. The boys both did well in their surgeries and are resting peacefully for the rest of the night. I will update you on the everything tomorrow. Both Is.aac and I are wiped out, so I am going to try to go lay down for awhile.

Thank you so much for your prayers and words of support. I know that they helped get us all through...

We're scheduled for 7am tomorrow. We need to be there at 6am to talk to the doctors, go over everything, and sign paperwork. Then they take the boys in.

Now that it is here, I am scared to death. Please pray that the boys will be okay and this will make them better...

We might be scheduled for tomorrow! I think I am in shock. I am still waiting for the doctor to call after her rounds to give more info on when I can talk to all the doctors (they are coordinating it so I can talk to them all at the same time) and sign paperwork.

Now for a whole new set of worries...

Still no news about when the procedures will be scheduled. Again we were told that we would find out tomorrow (Tuesday). That is probably just lip service. I am back to believing it when I see it...

Have I said how much I hate it there?

Is.aac finally succumbed to the lack of sleep and high stress we've been dealing with for the past several months. He came down with some stomach bug that kept him in bed sick this weekend. I feel pretty bad for him. He has been miserable. I have been sooo careful to make sure I don't get it, too.

I went to visit the babies by myself on Saturday and Sunday. It gave me a small taste of what it will be like dividing my time between the two of them to make sure they both get attention. Should be interesting when I get to do this in real life!

I do have some positive things to share, though.

**Ja.son hit the 5 pound mark on Saturday. He weighs in at 5 pounds 1 oz!

**Sh.awn is now getting a bottle a shift. He still doesn't like it, but he is getting them.

**Ja.son had his feeding tube moved to his nose so he can start sucking in earnest now, too.

**Both are being weened off of the caffeine they've been getting to help them with their breathing. Neither is having apnea or breathing issues. Ja.son's oxygen level continues to decrease.

**I should find out tomorrow when the boys' procedures will be. The new attending doctor finally told the neurosurgeons that they need to either schedule the boys or move them to another hospital. They are working on scheduling them this week.

**Is.aac is finally starting to feel a little better.

Here are some new pictures, too.

Sh.awn


Ja.son

I am mostly back to normal energy wise. Finally. The time on bed rest and all of the hospital drama really kicked my butt. The only thing I am struggling with is some weird head rushes/light headedness that I get when I get up from sitting or laying. Not sure what is up with that.

I made my 6 week appointment with the OB. I must say that have enjoyed having my girlie parts to myself for awhile so I am not really looking forward to the appointment. It seemed like everyone was visiting down below while I was trying to get pregnant and during the pregnancy itself. Everyone but Isaac was getting lucky. IVF cycles tend to put a crimp in the actual love life. Plus, we were on TOTAL pelvic rest for the entire pregnancy with an exception of about four weeks. Anyway, Isaac is excited to get an all clear so he can't wait! :-) I have to admit that I'll enjoy the all clear, too!

I am now eight pounds lighter than I was when I got pregnant. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself. I lost all that I gained from the babies by the first week after delivery. The rest was all of the extra I put on while on the fertility meds. I am a little loose in the belly still, especially right above my incision so I need to tone up a little more. People seem surprised when I tell them that I just had twins.

I have spent the day cleaning my garage. It is still a mess from when we remodeled our kitchen--ourselves. I got pregnant before all of it was finished, so there is still stuff to do: finish tiling the back splash (mostly done, it just needs the pieces around the window), grouting, installing the trim around the new cabinets, and painting the inside of the window. I would love to have it finished before the babies come home. I think I can do it, but I need to get going on it.

Of course, don't get me started on the fact that I have concrete floors right now or that I haven't finished the babies' room...

So much to do and so little time...

Let's Be Positive Today...

We finally got ahold of THE doctor yesterday. Say Amen for small miracles! Well, she was one of the doctors we were trying to get ahold of. Anyway, I got a good feeling from her. She seems to be pro-baby and not as much "let's do all the procedures we can".

The goal is to try to get the babies in tomorrow for their reservoirs. While the babies are not symptomatic yet, the doctor doesn't want to wait until they are symptomatic to act. (I agree with this.) Apparently, though, the evasive neurosurgeons are putting the boys at the end of their patient list because they don't have symptoms. The catch twenty-two. The doctor we spoke with was trying to work on that problem.

She also said that they would let the babies tell them what to do next. For once, she actually said that we want the bleeds to resolve themselves without further intervention. (the doctors at the other hospital had said that all along) If the babies can't resolve the bleeds, then they would proceed to shunting.

She also said that they don't like to shunt babies this little so after the reservoirs are placed, she would have no problem with them returning to our local hospital. I almost fainted at that! And I could have kissed her.

That has made sense to me all along. If they are only going to observe them and tend to their daily needs, I didn't understand why it had to be there and not at our local hospital. Especially after they place the reservoirs. I was under the impression when they were moved that they would tap their ventricles and then return them to our hospital anyway. Finally someone understands that.

Something to feel positive about, right? I am taking whatever I can get now.

More exciting news is that Sh.awn tried his first bottle today. The nurse said he looked like he was ready to try nippling, so she gave him 5ccs in a bottle. He apparently wasn't ready for all of the hard work and didn't enjoy it. No worries, he'll get more practice! I sooo wish I was there. Hopefully, we'll try it again when I am there.

Weights continue to rise: Sh.awn is 4lbs 5ozs while Ja.son is 4lbs 13ozs.

All in all, today is a good day!

So Sweet...

Our first family picture...



The boys together...

It is a good thing that my tears don't compromise my strength because tonight has been a night full of them.

We finally got to see a doctor. Not the doctor we wanted to see, but a doctor with some information. My mind is still reeling from what she said. It was so surreal to watch her mouth move and know that what she was saying was so important. I just couldn't process it all. Or so I thought. I really had been listening to her. I knew what she was saying. I just didn't want to hear it.

While she said she wasn't part of the "team" for the babies, she had "heard" that we wanted to talk to a doctor. (Wonder what gave her that idea? Suppose it was the MANY calls all day or the I want to talk to a doctor speech we gave when we got there?) Both boys have hydrocephalus. The neurosurgeon (who we have yet to talk to) has decided that they will have a reservoir put into their heads so they don't have to have needles inserted repeatedly in their heads to relieve the pressure. Then, when they get to 2 kilos (which they both are already so she must be wrong with this number) they will put in shunts.

Shunts. That scary word. It gives me chills.

She gives us all this second hand info and proceeds to take her two little med school flunkies (sorry to those of you in the medical field--I am just not in a good place right now) a few feet away and talks about the other babies in the room. "So and so has had this happen...I would not try that anymore, it is useless. Go to (insert something awful) and then do (insert something even worse). You guys should be there when they do that. It is a fascinating procedure." Blah, blah, blah.

They weren't that far from us. I could hear it all. And it broke my heart to know that they talked about my babies that way, too.

I just started crying and couldn't stop.

I cried all the way home and still cry when I think about it. The guilt is back big time. If only...

I want to talk to the neurosurgeon.

I want all of this to go away and for the babies to be healthy.

What if they aren't? What if they have permanent damage because I failed them? What if, what if...

The evening had started off so well, too. I got to hold both babies at the same time. It was heaven. They were so comfortable there together. Then the nurses put little Santa hats and Christmas socks on them and took our first family picture. It was so nice...

and then back to reality at a hospital I hate with doctors that I am beginning to hate even more.

I feel like I have a split personality going.

I have two blogs. There is this one, where I feel comfortable posting thoughts and feelings about almost anything. Mostly. It is anonymous for the most part and not read by family or friends in real life. Is.aac doesn't even read it unless I show him a particular post I want him to see. Then there is the babies' blog, where I post updates and pictures of the boys. That is read by family and friends.

I haven't said anything to family outside of my mom about the boys' bleeds. I don't know why, but I just don't want anyone in the family to know. Maybe I am trying to protect them. Maybe I am trying to protect myself. All I know is that I don't want them to know about all of this.

That makes for some interesting blogging and question dodging. Because no one knows about the bleeds, no one knows about the new hospital. If they knew, they would want to know why they were there. Then there are questions about when they can come visit the babies. Well, I don't know! (Is.aac has not felt comfortable letting people except my mom in to see the babies. We were fortunate, though, that the babies' beds were by a window that could open to allow people outside the NICU to see just our babies without them coming inside.)

On this blog I can just let things go into the universe--positive and negative. I can talk about fears and doubts. On the babies' blog, I have been trying to keep things upbeat and positive. I only write about the good things that are going on with the babies.

Am I making things more difficult for myself this way? Maybe. Probably. Sigh.

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We are not going to the hospital until after Is.aac gets home from work. The NICU is closed from 6:30-7:30 for the shift change. The thought is that we are going to try to meet the night shift right after it starts. Not sure how that will work out.

We've been on the phone all day, trying to get ahold of a doctor there. Any doctor. The only one available is that second year (doesn't she ever leave) and we don't really want to talk to her again. She doesn't know much so we just end up frustrated. This is ridiculous.

Supposedly one will be available at 2:30. Why am I not holding my breath that he'll talk to us?

The first neurosurgeon we talked to is supposed to be there tonight...wanna make a bet about whether or not we get to talk to him?

Nothing new to report so far. We left for the hospital this morning at 9:30 am (to avoid the traffic), hoping to see the doctors during rounds. The neurosurgeon was also supposed to be there at around the same time. The only doctor we got to talk to was this very young second year. And we had talked to her the night the babies were admitted. She couldn't tell us much more than they were stable. Very helpful. We waited until 4:30 for the neurosurgeon before someone got ahold of someone to find out that he wasn't sure when or if he was coming today. Sigh. This was definitely another case of hurry up to wait...

On a good note, we got to hold both babies for quite some time. They are soooo sweet! I still have to resist the urge to grab them and make a run for it.

Weights are up too: Jason is 4lbs 9ozs and Shawn is 4lbs 1oz.

And I got Shawn's umbilical cord. He finally lost it last night. Not sure what I am going to do with it exactly, but I just had to have it!

Today just kept getting worse by the hour.

The NICU doctor called the house pretty early today to say that he wanted to have the babies transported to another hospital--an hour and a half away (without traffic). Both babies' head circumferences were growing at a rate faster than what the doctors wanted to see. Both were diagnosed with hydrocephalus, which apparently isn't uncommon in babies with brain bleeds. There are no pediatric neurosurgeons in my county, so we had to go to where one was.

They were taken one at a time via ambulance to the new hospital. Sh.awn went first because he had more swelling than Ja.son. I held him for about forty-five minutes before they loaded him into his little travel incubator and whisked him away.

I wasn't allowed on the ambulance with Sh.awn. I could follow behind them in my car, but Is.aac wasn't home (wouldn't you know it) and I didn't want to leave Ja.son behind.

So I stayed with Ja.son for an hour and a half until Is.aac got there. I kissed Ja.son goodbye and we took off to the new hospital.

Talk about culture shock. I like my "old" NICU so much better. The nurses and doctors all seemed to be efficient and nice, but the place just seems so cold. Plus, we were wanded with a metal detector at the entrance and there was a security guard at the entrance to the NICU wing. Scary.

After what seemed like forever, Ja.son arrived at the new hospital, too. We had to wait another eternity for the pediatric neurosurgeon to show up. He said the boys would have ventricular taps in the morning. (This is like a spinal tap, only they go through the soft spot on the babies' heads and pull fluid directly out of the ventricles in their brains.) I pray that this relieves the pressure and stops the swelling.

Now I don't know how long the babies will have to stay at the new hospital. I am not sure I can take it if they have to stay there from here on out...

******************************************
My milk is officially dried up. I have been pumping ten times a day and taking fenugreek since Tuesday, and I have 7 ml to show for it. Total. All together. Combined. I decided to stop pumping today. I can't describe how emotional it makes me to think about it. And to think I didn't even want to have anything to do with breast milk while I was pregnant.

*****************************************
I started my period today, too.

*****************************************
Today just sucked. There is no other way to put it. S.U.C.K.E.D.

****Updated to add that the ventricular tap was a no go today (Sunday). They will be evaluated again tomorrow (Monday) morning. That is great news that they are not as bad as the first doctors thought. Plus, every extra day gives them the chance to start clearing up their bleeds on their own without intervention. That would be the best case scenario.

Suck On It!!!

Suck on it, Shawn! His first attempts at a pacifier...

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Jason is now wearing clothes. It won't be long before he gets his pacifier, too!

32 weeks gestation today...if I was still pregnant that is.

Sh.awn had his feeding tube moved from his mouth to his nose yesterday! This is great news because now he can start practicing his sucking. (Sucking is one of the last milestones before discharge! Most babies start sucking at about 34 weeks gestation, so this is still a little early for him.) They have given Sh.awn the tiniest of pacifiers to "suck" while they feed him to let him associate getting full with sucking. He's not too interested in it yet, but he is on his way!

Ja.son is catching up to Sh.awn on his feedings. Ja.son is getting 27ml of milk every three hours, while Sh.awn gets 30ml. Ja.son has started to plump up lately, too. Now he is 4 pounds 6 ounces! Sh.awn is not gaining as fast as Ja.son, so the doctors have changed his formula and added 2 extra calories per ounce to his feedings. It doesn't seem like that would do much, but the nurses have assured us that it will. Sh.awn now weighs 3 pounds 13 ounces.

Sh.awn with his new tube! You can see his chin now!


Ja.son - getting bigger!

Moving On Up...

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Getting Stronger

Yesterday was a great day. I finally got to hold Ja.son again (this is the second time). It was heavenly! He is getting stronger and weighs in at a whopping 4lbs2oz as of Sunday night! He looks so huge compared to just a few days ago! He is off of his vent again, and we hope that he is strong enough to stay off of it this time. He did seem like he was breathing well on it last night. He was also moved to his own isolette! Yeah! He is making good strides.

Me and Ja.son...




Sh.awn is also doing well. He is now at the point where we can hold him when we go in, usually during his feeding time. He is eating 30ml of food every three hours and tolerates it well with very little residuals if any at all. He weighs slightly less than Jason at just under 4 pounds. He now pretty much keeps his body temperature up without any assistance from the isolette. He also is now getting to wear clothes. (sooo cute!)

Is.aac and Sh.awn...




I am still having issues with milk production. I called the doctor to see if there was anything that he could do. I have heard about Reglan to help with milk production. The nurse referred me to a lactation specialist instead. Boy that nurse was helpful. (May have to call back and talk to someone else.) The ls said that I needed to pump more. I am trying to pump religiously every two hours for at least 10 times a day. Good GD, that is going to kill me. I have pumped five times so far today (since midnight) and have an ounce to show for it. I am drinking fluids; I am eating. I am also going to the vitamin store for some supplements to see if that works. I'm going to work at it for a week more. If it doesn't get better then I am calling it quits for the breast milk. I figure I gave it my all for four weeks by that point. I really don't need to worry about this if I am not producing enough for even a feeding. (please don't tell me I need to keep working at it and how important bm is for the babies. I am aware of that. If you have bm production suggestions, I am all for that, but I don't want to hear if I am making some huge mistake and hurting the boys by giving up.)

Good GD, time to pump again. I swear I feel like that sucker (ha ha, "sucker", funny) is constantly attached to me! I did fashion a sort of holder for the cups with an old bella band. It makes me look like some kind of deranged version of Madonna, but I don't really care. Now I have my hands free while I am pumping. That is a big improvement!

This is the continuation of my hospital stay. If you didn't read about the boys' birth, you might want to read that first...

The first few days after the boys were born were a whirlwind of NICU visits, doctor consultations, antibiotics, nurse visits, and breast pumping attempts. I was in pain, but it was nothing that the percoset** couldn't take care of.

On Tuesday morning, my OB came in to check on me. We talked about my release. He asked if I wanted to go home that day or the next. I chose Wednesday because I wanted to stay near the babies for as long as possible. The plan was set. I was to be released on Wednesday.

On Tuesday night, in set a low grade fever. My temp hovered between 100.1 and 100.3. Sweat poured from me and I begged for the air conditioner to be turned on. My poor mom and Is.aac were frozen, but I was burning up. As long as I stayed below 100.5, the nurses were not too concerned. I drank gallons of ice water to try to cool myself off. Nothing helped. That lasted through the night.

I started to feel better the next morning. My temp had lowered to below 100 degrees. I was excited to leave and go home to my beloved bed. (Oh, how I missed my bed!)

My OB came in to do his final check before releasing me at around 8:00 am. He pushed on my belly. I almost jumped off the bed. I reached for his hands and threw them off of me. My reaction had surprised me and him. He looked at me and asked me if I was in pain. I assured him I was not (I so wanted to leave), but when he touched my stomach again and my reaction remained the same, he knew I was lying. No discharge for me until we knew what was going on in there.

Twenty minutes later, a technician came to my room with a wheel chair. I was whisked off downstairs to take an x-ray. Back up to my room.

Twenty minutes after that, he was back with the wheel chair. I was whisked off for a CT scan. It was not looking good, that was clear because of how popular I had become, although no one had said anything directly to me about what they were thinking.

My fever had inched up ever so slowly and was again hovering at 100.1 degrees, but I was feeling relatively fine except when someone would push on my stomach--which was now a favorite past time for everyone who entered my room. I wanted to go home so badly that I had started to suck in my breath just before they'd push on my stomach making myself able to get through each exam without wincing much.

I begged them to let me go so often, I nearly convinced myself that I was going to be able to!

At three that afternoon, was my first visit with the surgeon. Exploratory surgery, incisions running from my section incision to my sternum, and NG tubes were brought up. I had an obstruction. They weren't sure if it was tangled intestines or if there was something else going on. I was booked for the OR at 6 that evening.

WTF?

We declined the surgery for the moment, requesting a wait and see approach. They inserted an NG tube (took 6 attempts pre sedative and only 1 after--I will be forever emotionally scarred from that experience) with the hope that it would eliminate the pressure on my intestines and allow an obstruction to move.

My fever went up to 102 degrees.

Medical professionals panicked. I was placed on even more antibiotics.

My memories of the next two days were pretty fuzzy. I do know that I started having diarrhea episodes fairly regularly. Diarrhea coupled with the fever led them to call in the Infectious Diseases doctor. My room was red tagged, which meant that nurses and doctors had to suit up in full body gear and face masks to enter my room. (This was not a common occurrence on the post partum ward, apparently. The nurses were totally afraid of me, and no one wanted to come to my room. It took hours to have them come bring me something. Is.aac started to just go to the nurses' desk to get stuff himself it was that bad.)

When the Infectious Diseases doctor got involved, the surgeon stopped pushing to do his exploratory surgery. My OB continued to come check on me, but was now apologizing that everything had spun so out of control.

I have a thing about my nose, so the NG tube was pure torture. It was heavy, I couldn't move with it, and my throat was killing me. Let's not even mention how disgusted I was at what was actually in the tube. Bile is not pretty.

On Friday evening, the NG tube was removed. I was finally feeling better. I still had diarrhea, but the had cultured the hell out of every single drop and could not find the big, scary bacteria they thought would be there.

In the end, it was decided that I was allergic to the antibiotics I was taking so much of (we're talking every 3 hours for at least two weeks).

And the obstruction? Probably shit. The veal Parmesan I was given Tuesday night didn't like my system very much. Wouldn't that have been cute? Exploratory surgery for them to find me full of shit. Poetic justice?

When I left the hospital a full eight days after the boys were born, I had lost all of my pregnancy weight (and IVF weight for that matter) except for two pounds.

So. There it is. Pretty ugly, huh? No wonder I had some serious PTSD issues.

----

**I did find that while I like morphine, it didn't like me. I was on a morphine pump right after delivery. At first, things were okay. I pumped that sucker every ten minutes on the nose! Then, I started to throw up. That led to more pain, which led to more morphine. I hit the morphine pump, and then I would throw up. It took me a few times to figure out the correlation. The clincher was when the nurse came in. Apparently I had broken out in hives, too, so that was the end of morphine and the beginning of percoset.

Guilt

The disconnect between what my brain knows and what I feel emotionally is incredible. My brain understands that I did the best I could do for the babies. My emotions, on the other hand, are having trouble realizing that.

I have always had a mountain of guilt. Even as a small child I have felt guilty for things that I have had no control over. I don't know if I was over sensitive or had an over-inflated ego, but I felt like somehow I contributed to almost everything bad in my world. I felt guilty about everything.

I felt guilty when the class would misbehave when my teachers were gone. Surely the teacher was yelling only at me. I felt guilty because my parents were the only parents still married among my circle of friends. I went for some time not talking about my dad because I felt bad that he was still at home with my family. There was nothing for me to feel guilty about in these situations. I was always too afraid to do anything bad while my teachers were gone. Why should I feel guilty for having a family with two parents? Still, the guilt was there.

When I got older, I joked that I must have been a nun in a past life because I had so much guilt. (no offense to any nuns, of course)

Now, I am really feeling guilt and I am having trouble shaking it. My rational mind knows that the guilt is destructive and harmful to me, but the guilt is there none the less.

I feel so guilty about my babies. I struggle with the feeling that I did this to them. The tubes and wires, the infections, the potential problems in their future (Oh, God, please let there be no problems in their futures)--all of it was caused because I let them down.

I did that to them.

I let them get infections. I couldn't hold them in just a week or two longer so they could be stronger. I was miserable and had actually fantasized about no longer being pregnant. Had I not fantasized, maybe I would have stayed pregnant longer. Now that the babies are drinking more milk than I can supply, I feel guilty that I can't even feed them. It was just added to the list of ways I let the boys down.

Every new setback just encourages the guilt that I am so predisposed to feel.

Maybe I don't believe enough? Are my worries/fears for the babies determining their future?

Even worse is the painful feeling that maybe my struggle to have kids was in some way a sign that I shouldn't have them. (That hurts so much to admit.)

My brain fights back with, "I did that for them." or "Since when does fantasizing about something make it so?" or "It doesn't matter how much milk they get from me, it all helps make them stronger."

The rational part of me screams that the eight weeks of bed rest, the hospitalization, and the antibiotics was for them. That every pregnant woman is miserable and most of them probably wish it was over a time or two. And the milk thing? "Remember you fool?" says my brain. "You didn't even want to breastfeed. You wouldn't have even attempted it had the "liquid gold" analogy not been drilled into your head from the moment they were born."

It argues with my emotions regularly. Some days my brain wins. On other days it's my emotions.

This tug-of-war is draining.

I am trying to live in the moment while I work through all of this. I am trying, but many times that moment is when my emotions are in control.

Like now...

How Sweet Is This?

My little Sh.awn...


And my little Ja.son...


And my wonderful Is.aac...


I sure do love my boys.

The Birth of the Boys...

On Friday the 19th, I went to Dr. Doom's for my appointment. I knew things were not going well when even I could see that baby A had very little fluid around him. The tech doing the u/s called Doom in to check for himself and he said I was off to the hospital for the rest of my pregnancy. I was 27 weeks and 2 pregnant.

My hospital stay was challenging, but the nurses did try to make things as nice as possible for me. I was hooked to fetal monitors 23 1/2 hours a day. I got a half an hour break to shower or visit the little outdoor garden in the hospital courtyard. I chose the half an hour to shower every time and then was plugged up to the monitors again. I didn't mind the monitors so much, but I had a reaction to the ultrasound gel they used with the monitors. (I am still having issues on my belly from that gel and it's been weeks!)

Baby A rarely moved and was easy to keep on the monitor. Of course that was because he had so little fluid that moving was a challenge for him. Baby B, on the other hand, never stayed still. I was constantly either checking for him myself or having a nurse come in to do it. There is nothing like being awakened in the middle of the night to have your fetal monitor moved a fraction of a millimeter to "find" my missing baby.

I continued to leak fluid every time I moved. It was especially bad when I was on my sides. I tried my best to stay on my back as much as possible.

I also had a contraction monitor on me all the time. This monitor had no gel with it, thankfully, but it had a huge knot on it that dug into my skin. It was like having a rock shoved into your belly all the time.

All of it was bearable, though, because it meant that the babies were still in me and still alive.

Their heartbeats stayed strong and consistent. There was no sign of infection indicated in my blood work. We were chugging along.

I was give terbutaline (sp?) many different times during that first week in the hospital. Strangely, I hardly ever felt contractions although at two different points before actual labor, they were around four minutes apart! I would feel a contraction every now and then, but nothing regular. Every time I had a shot, the contractions would go away or drop to only 1-2 an hour.

For those of you who have had terbutaline, isn't it such a lovely drug? I say that in the most sarcastic way of course. This drug did horrible things to me and I dreaded it every time I saw a nurse come in with it. My heart would race, I would get the most terrible shakes, and just felt miserable each and every time. The effects would last for an hour or two before eventually leading to an exhausted and restless sleep. Ugh. I hated that stuff.

Fast forward exactly one week to Friday, Oct. 26. A nurse woke me up at around 7:30 am to give me another shot of terbutaline. I was having four minute apart contractions for almost a hour and a half and completely slept through it. Apparently, that stopped the contractions. My contraction monitor showed little to no activity. I felt pretty good and thought all was well.

At 3:00 pm I got another shot of terbutaline, again for the four minute apart contractions. I had only felt a few of them and was quite surprised when the nurse came in with the shot ready. That didn't stop the contractions. They got stronger and I started to feel them more regularly. They gave me a dose of magnesium. That didn't stop the contractions, but they did slow down some for about hour.

While terbutaline made me all jittery, magnesium did the complete opposite. I felt like I was reduced to a pile of jelly. I felt sluggish, slow, and just plain blah.

I alternated between terb shots and mag. hourly until 2:30 am on the 27th. I was wired up from the terb. and then slowed down from the mag. over and over. I started to throw up and dry heave. I got diarrhea but wasn't allowed up from the bed. (That was so much fun to do while on a bed pan.)

At that point, the doctor on call came in to say that she thought I was in labor (couldn't check for dilation because of the cerclage) and that if they did stop the contractions, it wasn't for long so she recommended delivery. At that point, my contractions had stayed in the every 2-4 minute category for quite some time, so I wasn't totally surprised. I was sad that I couldn't last longer and frightened about what it could mean for the babies, but not surprised.

The babies were delivered at 3:31 and 3:32 am on October 27. It was a little surreal to go through the c-section with a room full of people. Each baby had at least five people ready and waiting for his birth. Plus there were the several nurses and doctors for me. It was strange.

Sha.wn was delivered first, but I strongly believe that he was Baby B during all of the monitoring. He never cried or made any noise when delivered. I had to ask if he was okay because it was so quiet.

Ja.son was delivered second. He let out a small little squeak when he was born. That was the only sound I heard my babies make for over two weeks.

Is.aac watched the entire thing and gave me an abbreviated play by play. Thank goodness for the abbreviated version. There were definitely things I heard/smelled that I could have done without!

After delivery, the babies were doing well. They seemed to be going strong for about six hours. Then they started to do some deteriorating...their breathing became difficult, they had transfusions, and a few other things. They were sick and they couldn't figure out why they had turned so suddenly. It turns out that both the babies and I developed infections while I was pregnant, most likely from the water breaking two weeks earlier. I had been on mega doses of antibiotics, so when they tested the babies' blood after birth it showed that there were no infections. They later found bacteria in Jason's lungs and contribute that to their sudden downfall in the beginning.

Sha.wn continues to improve at a fairly steady pace. He is now in an isolette and taking 18ml of milk every three hours. (They have officially surpassed my milk production.) He is maintaining his body temperature and looks like he is getting stronger.

Ja.son, though, is still having a hard time with things. He is back on the vent and was struggling to breathe last night. They took an x-ray and his left lung looked "wet". We are waiting for an update from the doctor to give us more info. Jason is feeding, but remains on 3mls of food per feeding. I am worried about my sweet little Jason. Be strong, little man, be strong.

Well, that was the story of the boys' birth. I will return soon with hospital week #2--my story--soon.