Abby and Theo's Birth Story

Abigail Aleth and Ignatius Theophorus were born on September 7th, 2018 at 38 weeks gestation via a planned cesarean.  Abby was born first at 6:11pm, weighing 5 pounds and 13 ounces. Theo was born second at 6:12pm, weighing 6 pounds and 8 ounces.

The primary reason for a cesarean birth was the babies' positions.  Abby was breech, and although Theo frequently changed between breech and cephalic through-out my pregnancy, he was transverse just before delivery.  I thought that I had had plenty of time to come to terms with the C-section, but once the day finally came I realized how not ready I was.  Emotionally, I was terrified.

The hospital told us to call them at 5:00am, so after a restless night of little sleep we called them first thing at 5:00.  They told us they would call us back at 8:00.  Court went ahead and dropped the big kids off at school, then we waited for the call.  It didn't come, so we called them again.  They said they were having a busy morning and they'd call back when they were ready for us.

I was tired from being up so early, and hungry from not eating since midnight the night before, and spent the entire morning in a state of anxiety.  Finally, at noon, they called us in.  By 1:00, we were checking in.  At 1:10, we were sitting in a labor and delivery room. I changed into a hospital gown, climbed into the bed, and had many more hours of anxious waiting.

 Eventually the OB who would be performing the surgery came in and did an ultrasound.  Abby was still breech, and Theo was transverse with his head off to the side.  She left and two nurses began to prep me for surgery.  I was cold, anxious, and had not eaten or drunk anything for almost 24 hours.  Being poked repeatedly by one nurse (she couldn't get an IV started) while another nurse was shaving the area where the incision would be made, really pushed me over the edge and I started to cry.  Reality was hitting me and I felt so out of control of everything.  The nurse felt badly for me, and I guess she went and talked to the OB about it because soon she and another OB came back to talk to me about trying to deliver vaginally.

They said if I really didn't want the C-section, they would be willing to attempt a vaginal delivery.  Since Abby was closest to the cervix, she would be delivered first in a breech position, and then the hope would be that Theo would flip head down upon his sisters' exit.  If things didn't go smoothly, there is still a chance I could end up in the operating room.

At that point, I couldn't imagine being induced into labor.  I had been induced once before and it had failed: it was seven hours of excruciating pitocin-contractions with zero dilation.  I was already exhausted, stressed, hungry, thirsty, and couldn't imagine starting labor like that.  Especially a labor that could end up being really hard and going to surgery anyway.

So we went ahead with the cesarean we had planned, and I tried to be more brave and not cry so much.

Once all the hospital staff realized how scared I was, they became much more compassionate.  The anesthesiologist got an IV started and explained what he would be doing.  Pretty soon I was wheeled into the operating room.  I had never seen one before and it was a bit of a fright: a lot of people covered head to toe in blue gowns with only their eyes showing, and bright lights shining down over a long table covered in sharp instruments that were soon going to cut me open.

I sat on a little table, leaned forward, and the anesthesiologist set to work.  Pretty soon my toes were tingling and I was assisted into a lying position by the nurses.  Two cross bars came out of the table and I was asked to extend my arms.  As I laid my hands across the T-shaped table, I realized right away that I was in the shape of a cross.  A curtain was put up next, and then the anesthesiologist offered to put some music on. I faintly felt that things were happening to the other half of my body, but the anesthesia was taking effect and I was becoming less and less aware of any sensation.  I heard a nurse announce that the catheter was placed.  I was amazed that I had not felt anything.

They brought Court in, and he looked like a sesame street character in his gowns and coverings. Then they got to work.  I had an oxygen mask on and focused very carefully on my breathing.  I kept getting terrible pains in my shoulders.  Court and the anesthesiologist were talking to me, but I can't remember now what they were saying.  Pretty soon it became harder to breath, and I felt pressure and uncomfortable tugging.  Then I heard a baby cry and the room bustled with excitement.  A tiny, bloody baby-head popped up briefly over the screen while everyone cheered about "the baby girl," and then the brief glimpse of her disappeared.  I felt more tugging, more pressure, and heard an even louder cry.  A slightly bigger baby flashed over the screen, then was gone.

Now was the part I dreaded the most: being stitched up.  I could hear both my babies crying, but was unable to see them.  Court went over to them while they were being checked out, cleaned up, weighed, etc.  As soon as they were ready, they were both brought over to me.  Court held Abby while a nurse held Theo next to my face so that I could look at him.  During this part, I felt as though I was struggling to breath and the pain in my shoulders got worse.

Pretty soon everything was finished.  The curtain was taken down and I was transferred by the nurses back into the hospital bed.  Each baby was tucked into one of my arms, and then we were wheeled back into the delivery room.  A couple nurses fussed over us for a little while, gave me a cup of ice chips which I was thrilled about, and then we were wheeled into the mother-baby unit for recovery.

As the anesthesia wore off I could feel the pain in my abdomen, and also in my shoulders still.  The catheter was still in and wouldn't be removed until I could walk myself to the bathroom.  My urine output was extremely low and I was feeling very dizzy and faint.  I was also starving.  They brought me applesauce and I continued to munch on ice.  It didn't take long for me to feel nauseous and promptly vomit.  It was a rough night of being unable to move without a lot of pain, yet still needing to care for and breastfeed two babies.  My husband had to do everything because I couldn't do anything!  Thankfully, he stepped up to the plate perfectly and was an amazing help.

As the night went on, they started giving me a lot of fluids rapidly through the I.V., and the nurse tried to get me up to walk to the bathroom.  When I almost fainted, both the nurse and my husband had to help me back to the bed.

It wasn't until the following morning that I was finally able to eat something.  They brought me a plate of breakfast food" sausage, eggs, waffles.  Even though I was incredibly hungry, I only took small bites and chewed slowly.  I didn't want to throw up again.  I was really grateful that I tolerated the food just fine, and I felt so much better once I had eaten.  Sometime in the late morning I was able to get up and walk to the bathroom.  I was very sore and moved slowly, but I was no longer dizzy or feeling faint.  Once the catheter was removed, I was allowed to get up whenever I wanted.  It wasn't easy to get up or to walk, but the nurses told me that the pain in my shoulders wouldn't go away unless I walked around.  So I tried to get up frequently and walk small loops around my hospital room, even though it was so painful!

After two nights in the hospital, we were finally able to be discharged, except there was one little issue.  Abby wasn't feeding as well as Theo.  She was up during the night screaming, refusing to latch on sometimes.  When she did latch on, she would tire quickly, fall asleep, and wake up screaming again shortly after.  We weren't getting any sleep and it was becoming a frustrating experience, especially when Theo was nursing so well and sleeping long stretches afterward.  The nurses sent in a lactation consultant who recommended pumping and giving the pumped milk to Abby with a syringe.  She said that possibly Abby had a weak suck and wasn't getting what she needed, but that she would catch on to breastfeeding in the next couple of weeks.  In the meantime, I could supplement her with pumped milk.

Breastfeeding two babies was already very demanding, I wasn't exactly thrilled to add pumping to the picture.  But I didn't have much choice; my baby had to eat!

On Sunday afternoon, we packed everything up from the hospital room.  I was pushed out to the parking lot in a wheelchair because I knew I couldn't manage that distance on my own yet.  Court pulled the van around and lifted me up into the front seat, then he loaded the babies in their car-seats and we were headed home!

I still had an unpleasant recovery ahead of me in the coming weeks.  The first week was the hardest.  I took a lot of pain meds and walking was difficult, but I knew it was important to get up and move around.  I fell into a rhythm of alternating my time between sitting in the recliner in the living room, and sitting in my bed propped up by pillows.  We even bought extra pillows to entirely surround myself, and so I could comfortably sit up and nurse the babies with plenty of support.

Between the pain of recovering from surgery, the demands of breastfeeding two newborns, the nuisance of pumping, the hormonal imbalance that comes with postpartum, the utter lack of sleep that comes with two babies, and our 3-year-old, Isabelle not adjusting well... it was a pretty rough first week.  As the reality that "I cannot leave the house without great difficulty" set in, I became a little sad knowing that my old life was abruptly dead and replaced with something new.  I suddenly felt alone and isolated knowing that I could not easily leave the house. Things got better in the second week, although I still experienced a lot of frustration with Abby's feeding issues (I admit there were a lot of tears - from both of us.)  But as we entered the third week, I began to feel like maybe I was starting to get the hang of our new life.  Much of having twins is really so hard, and I wasn't quite prepared for the reality of it.

Thankfully our friends were great about bringing us meals for the first few weeks.  I really can't say with words how immensely helpful it was to not have to worry about dinner!  I am beyond grateful and appreciative for each and every meal that showed up on our doorstep. 

Yet, even having my husband off work for sixteen days, having my mom stay with us for three weeks, and having meals dropped off every other day for three weeks, it has still been a challenging adjustment.  

I'd hate to think of how much harder it would of been if I did not have all this help during this time!

Ultimately, I'm coming to terms with my cesarean birth and I'm finding sweet moments of joy mingled in with all the work and utter exhaustion.