It's been almost 2 years since Em and Roo were born. But, it shouldn't be. That benchmark should be at the end of June. They were born two months early. 32 weeks gestation.
And that was a great victory.
From the beginning, my ultrasounds indicated that Roo was smaller than her twin. Not to worry, everyone said. Because, she was only 3 days behind. 5 days behind. 8 days behind.
But, as time marched on, the delay became more pronounced. My ultrasound sonographer spent longer and longer taking measurements and consulting his notes from our previous visit.
Finally, at 18 weeks, my amazing obstetrician made the call to send us to a specialist. A perinatologist. There were more ultrasounds.
Roo continued to make progress, but not at the rate that Em was growing.
Her fluid levels were borderline, but never dangerous. Her umbilical cord doppler scans indicated she was in some distress and was having to work very hard for the nutrition she received. Em was in good shape, but had something unthinkable happened with Roo, she would have been in grave danger. There was nothing that could be done to change the situation. Nothing that bed rest or diet or medicine could improve.
Just lots of ultrasounds.
And prayer.
When I was 24 weeks pregnant, the specialist insisted that I receive two rounds of a steroid shot. This was to improve the girls' lung maturity. He was convinced I would have to deliver the girls in the next few days. But, Roo grew and the doctor backed off.
At 28 weeks he expressed sincere surprise.
At 31 weeks, Roo's growth started to flatline. It was time.
I checked into the hospital to have the girls at 32 weeks and 1 day.
Roo
Em
I was discharged 5 days later. But I didn't go home...
First Family Picture (the girls are 1 1/2 weeks old).
First Mother's Day (2 weeks old twins)
...until the end of May. 30 days later. When the Rowdy Girls were finally released from the NICU.
Do you know how incredibly blessed we are? To have made it to 32 weeks. Amazing.
Against the odds with my particular situation (which is generically termed intrauterine growth restriction).
The doctors that took care of Em, Roo and I were outstanding.
But the NICU personnel... they were phenomenal!
What a burden those people bear. Those tiny babies fighting to live. Desperate families clinging to hope.
It is intense, to say the very least.
Several days before the girls were born, I had a dream. I dreamed about Em and Roo in the NICU. They were in separate beds and a very tall man, an angel, was standing guard between the beds. Twelve hours after delivery I was finally able to visit my precious babies. And just like the dream, their beds were in the corner of the room. With a poignant space between. But it wasn't empty. You could feel a holy presence.
I believe all NICU babies have angels standing guard. Fresh from heaven, and plucked from the safety of the womb, these special babies' new existence is painful and frightening. But, the prayers of family and friends enfold them. They bolster their guardian's strength.
And the March of Dimes... with the donations we make. They empower. They strengthen. And they save.
You see. There is an epidemic. Too many babies are born prematurely.
The March of Dimes estimates that half a million babies and their families are impacted by prematurity. Every year. They need our help. To survive. To thrive.
We are lucky. We are blessed. We are so grateful.
And that was a great victory.
From the beginning, my ultrasounds indicated that Roo was smaller than her twin. Not to worry, everyone said. Because, she was only 3 days behind. 5 days behind. 8 days behind.
But, as time marched on, the delay became more pronounced. My ultrasound sonographer spent longer and longer taking measurements and consulting his notes from our previous visit.
Finally, at 18 weeks, my amazing obstetrician made the call to send us to a specialist. A perinatologist. There were more ultrasounds.
Roo continued to make progress, but not at the rate that Em was growing.
Her fluid levels were borderline, but never dangerous. Her umbilical cord doppler scans indicated she was in some distress and was having to work very hard for the nutrition she received. Em was in good shape, but had something unthinkable happened with Roo, she would have been in grave danger. There was nothing that could be done to change the situation. Nothing that bed rest or diet or medicine could improve.
Just lots of ultrasounds.
And prayer.
When I was 24 weeks pregnant, the specialist insisted that I receive two rounds of a steroid shot. This was to improve the girls' lung maturity. He was convinced I would have to deliver the girls in the next few days. But, Roo grew and the doctor backed off.
At 28 weeks he expressed sincere surprise.
At 31 weeks, Roo's growth started to flatline. It was time.
I checked into the hospital to have the girls at 32 weeks and 1 day.
Roo
EmI was discharged 5 days later. But I didn't go home...
First Family Picture (the girls are 1 1/2 weeks old).
First Mother's Day (2 weeks old twins)...until the end of May. 30 days later. When the Rowdy Girls were finally released from the NICU.
Do you know how incredibly blessed we are? To have made it to 32 weeks. Amazing.
Against the odds with my particular situation (which is generically termed intrauterine growth restriction).
The doctors that took care of Em, Roo and I were outstanding.
But the NICU personnel... they were phenomenal!
What a burden those people bear. Those tiny babies fighting to live. Desperate families clinging to hope.
It is intense, to say the very least.
Several days before the girls were born, I had a dream. I dreamed about Em and Roo in the NICU. They were in separate beds and a very tall man, an angel, was standing guard between the beds. Twelve hours after delivery I was finally able to visit my precious babies. And just like the dream, their beds were in the corner of the room. With a poignant space between. But it wasn't empty. You could feel a holy presence.
I believe all NICU babies have angels standing guard. Fresh from heaven, and plucked from the safety of the womb, these special babies' new existence is painful and frightening. But, the prayers of family and friends enfold them. They bolster their guardian's strength.
And the March of Dimes... with the donations we make. They empower. They strengthen. And they save.
You see. There is an epidemic. Too many babies are born prematurely.
The March of Dimes estimates that half a million babies and their families are impacted by prematurity. Every year. They need our help. To survive. To thrive.
We are lucky. We are blessed. We are so grateful.
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5 comments:
Oh yes, the Holy Presence was thick within the walls of that NICU. When Em and Roo were only a few hours old, their sweet Mommy in recovery, and their precious Daddy with her, Mammaw and Marmee were praying over their isolettes, watching Em struggle to breathe. At the same moment our eyes met and we began to sing "This is the air I breathe, this is the air I breathe, your holy presence living in me. This is my daily bread, this is my daily bread, your very word spoken in me. And I'm desperate for You. And I'm lost without You...." It established the atmosphere for the month ahead. I never knew about the dream you had, only the one JB had. God loves us sooooo much. Even more than we love Em and Roo, and you know how much that is and that it increases daily.
I'm happy to say that my neighborhood campaign exceeded the goal for March of Dimes outreach in January/February. I was happy to spend the time mailing and delivering cards and notes to my neighbors and I thank each of them who contributed to MOD.
Your story is quite similar to mine. I made it to 31 weeks gestation, when my water broke after two weeks of hospital bedrest. I was due May 8, and they were born March 8. They just turned 1.
The NICU team was incredible. I thank God for them every day.
I enjoyed reading your post! Congrats on your healthy babies!
It's not hard to make me weepy lately, but this would have brought the tears anyway, hormones or not. Oh how I love my nieces. I'm so thankful that they are healthy and rowdy and that the Lord watches over them. I'll never forget seeing them in the NICU. Even though it was right before you got to take them home, they were so tiny. I could sense that they were protected. And they squeaked. I loved that squeak.
oh gosh! let me dry my eyes after reading the blog and then your Aunt Rhody's coment.
God is so good. So great to be a parent of NICU babies. He truly has a special plan for them.
Oh my goodness. Your NICU stories take me back....how did we ever survive? And the recounting in an earlier post about the struggles before delivery. Why was I not there for you more??? So sorry, my friend!
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