One of the things that prompted me to start blogging again was the realization that I hadn't written down anything about the events leading up to...and after...the birth of the twins last summer. As much as I'd like to believe that I'll never forget those life-changing experiences, the truth is, I know that most of the details will fade over time (some already have, unfortunately). So, those of you close to us have most likely heard this story more than once, so feel free to skip this post altogether!
Here is the tale of how this......
......turned into THIS! :
Finding out that we were expecting twins was such a shock, but so incredibly exciting as well. Learning that both babies would be BOYS was an extra-special surprise. It's funny... those first few days and weeks, my mind often fast-forwarded to life at home with two babies, and I didn't really even think about the possibility of complications arising during the pregnancy. Of course I knew that a multiple pregnancy was considered more high-risk, but since all of my other pregnancies had gone so smoothly, I honestly didn't give the pregnancy/potential risks much thought.
That all changed at around the 20-week mark. We had started our visits with the perinatologist, Dr. Robert Andres (which visits were recommended by my regular OB due to my history of giving birth to a child with chromosomal abnormalities, and also my "advanced maternal age"...I was 35). At our first high-definition ultrasound, the technician informed us that our twins were indeed both boys and that since they were sharing the placenta, they would be identical. We took this news with excitement, but the technician quickly explained that there would be extra risks involved with a shared placenta. Dr. Andres was a great guy who we eventually became very close and comfortable with, and he came into the room and explained the specific risks at length. As much as he stressed the fact that all of the potential risks were certainly not inevitable, and actually somewhat "rare", I no longer felt so nonchalant about what may happen during the remainder of the pregnancy.
The thing that absolutely frightened me the most during that conversation with the doctor was a condition called twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome, where, in a shared-placenta situation, one baby gets the lion's share of blood/nutrients/amniotic fluid, while the other baby gets a minimal amount. I had never heard of TTTS in my life. I made the mistake of Googling it when we got home, and was so distraught by what I read, recognizing that it was a very serious complication that caused fetal distress and often fetal demise of one or both twins if left undiagnosed/untreated. I shed many tears and poured my heart out to close loved ones as I contemplated these serious risks.
We were scheduled to see Dr. Andres weekly after that point...with a quick check one week for amniotic fluid levels and bladder fulness (an empty/undetectable bladder on one baby and an extra-full bladder on the other may indicate that TTTS was occuring), and a longer visit the following week where limbs/major organs/blood flow were measured and monitored. Those first few visits were stressful...one visit would be encouraging (all fluid levels/measurements in normal ranges), then the very next week the measurements would be way off and my anxiety levels would skyrocket.
One day (between 20 and 21 weeks) I was feeling so out-of-sorts. I remember that I was so discouraged that the pregnancy had "changed" so quickly. Honestly, in a matter of a few days, I went from feeling like a million bucks to feeling heavy, awkward, and I had started to feel minor contractions several times a day. This particular day was the worst so far. I remember wanting so badly to get my laundry done that day...it had piled up and I was sick of it. I was standing at the ironing board all morning, and every few minutes I was finding myself breathing heavily and/or doubling over with a contraction-type cramp. It went on long enough that I just couldn't ignore it. I went into the darkness of the pantry and offered a prayer that everything would be okay -- I knew it was too early to be in real labor and that babies don't survive if born at 20 weeks. I felt prompted to lie down immediately, which I followed. Even after a big glass of water and lying down for more than 30 minutes, the rhythmic cramping didn't cease. I called my OB (Craig Hall), then called my "other" doctor (Steve) and tearfully told him that I was heading to the clinic to get monitored. He was getting off work soon and arranged to meet me at Craig's office.
At the clinic, they checked my urine and discovered that I was grossly dehydrated...I thought I had been drinking enough, but Craig said I needed to be drinking double what I had been. He did a quick ultrasound and checked my cervix. Thankfully, I hadn't begun to dilate, but Craig sent me next door to Davis Hospital anyway to be monitored. That was a frightening experience (not being at Davis Hospital, but just being in the hospital). The nurse told me that I was the fourth woman THAT DAY who was expecting twins and who had come in for monitoring...incidentally, none of us were even close to our due dates. Upon learning that, I felt such a heaviness, not wanting these "hospital monitoring" sessions to become a regular occurrence for the remainder of the pregnancy. I was looked after for several hours, experiencing several mild/moderate contractions, and was sent home with the orders to TAKE IT EASY for the next 20 weeks.
When we got home, I felt weary and discouraged. I had come to terms over the previous few weeks with the fact that this wouldn't be a "normal" pregnancy, but I was so disheartened that the complications/false alarms were starting so early. Our home teacher, Josh Bond, came over, and he and Steve gave me a beautiful priesthood blessing which brought me a great deal of peace and comfort.
"Taking it easy" was easier said than done, but I quickly got good at listening to my body's cues and knowing when I was overdoing it. This is about the time that the "love" of family and our ward members really started pouring in. I am still so emotional when I think about how sweet and kind and generous our families/friends/ward members were to us during the entire experience. I COULD NOT have made it through without them...seriously. My wonderful friends who were serving with me in the Primary Presidency were especially considerate of my needs. They stopped by frequently to inquire how I was doing, brought us dinner, and picked things up from the store, offering encouragement or help at every turn. How blessed I felt to have such heartfelt support.
My three Moms, my sisters, and my sisters-in-law all helped by watching my kids and bringing meals. There were many times that my Mom ironed or folded laundry while insisting that I go and rest. It was uncomfortable for me to be lying on the couch or on my bed resting while listening to others do my chores, but I was honestly so grateful for the chance to rest. I was growing at such a rapid rate, and I felt bigger than I'd been with the other kids at full term by about the 26th week of the twin pregnancy.
Here are a few of the last pictures taken of me before the twins were born. This first one was Mother's Day -- I love this picture and the sweet smiles on all my kids' faces -- my last Mother's Day with only four kids! 
In early June, Dad and Marylin took all the kids camping overnight to give us a little break, then we met up with them for swimming/relaxing at Downata Hot Springs the next day:
That last picture was Emily's birthday -- June 15th, a Tuesday. It had been a week since my last hi-def ultrasound, where all the measurements/fluid levels were in "acceptable" ranges (they hadn't been "even" between the babies for weeks but they hadn't gotten worse necessarily, so the perinatologist told me to come back in 2 weeks, on Tuesday the 22nd). I remember an uneasy feeling coming over me when they told me to come back in two weeks instead of one, but I had made it to almost 29 weeks gestation, and my risk of developing TTTS was lessened with each passing week.
The day after Emily's birthday, we went to Bear Lake to my Mom and Steve's cabin. I knew I should probably not go, to stay home and rest, but I also wanted my kids to have a fun summer, and I figured I could rest at the cabin just as easily as I could rest at home. Just driving the two hours to the cabin was somewhat miserable, but once we got there I felt glad that we had come, and the kids were so delighted to be "doing something". The lake water was too cold to play in, but the kids had fun exploring around the cabin, riding the 4-wheelers, playing games and eating junk, and swimming in the pool at the clubhouse.
Within just a few hours of arriving at the cabin, I started to have a little pain in my upper abdomen, right at my xyphoid process. I also had a dull aching my back, but it was in my upper back, near where my bra clips. Steve and I were both puzzled as to what would cause these weird pains, but I just tried to brush it off. By bedtime, the pain was worse and I was feeling more uncomfortable. I was taking Tylenol around the clock, which helped minimally. I hoped that I'd be able to sleep and that I'd feel some relief in the morning.
That relief never came. I was up several times in the night, trying to get comfortable. I ended up getting a little rest by nearly sitting up straight on the couch with several pillows around me...the more flat I laid, the worse the pain was. It was so puzzling and unlike anything I had ever felt. I began to have a growing fear that something was really wrong, but pushed it aside thinking that it was "par for the course" during a twin pregnancy to have unusual aches and pains.
In the early morning, I was exhausted, but had just gotten to sleep when I happened to hear Steve's phone ringing from the kitchen. Since it was only just after 6 am, I knew something was amiss. I brought him the phone and he retrieved a message from his work...asking him if he was planning to come in for his 6 o'clock shift! He had switched shifts with someone several weeks previous, and had neglected to write it down or program it into his phone. Needless to say, he felt sick and explained that he was 2 hours away in Bear Lake but that he'd be there as soon as he could. It took him about 5 minutes to get ready and he broke every speed limit driving to Ogden! That had only happened once before in his career at McKay, but what a bummer! I was so disappointed and a little nervous that he'd be gone all day, but gratefully my Mom had come to the cabin, too, so I at least wouldn't be alone.
The day actually passed quickly and I was even able to get a little nap, which was a tender mercy considering how uncomfortable I had been through the previous night. I dreaded bedtime as night fell, but I actually got a little more rest than the first night, probably due to the fatigue that had been piling up since we arrived. As we got going that second morning, I knew that we would have to change our plans. It was only Friday, and we had originally planned to stay until Saturday afternoon, but I wanted to go home. I felt so selfish to cut the trip short since everyone (except me) was having a great time. At the same time, I was having tons of contractions, and the pain in my chest and back had gotten progressively worse -- I was beginning to feel pain on every respiration. I was worried that I was developing a pulmonary embolism (blood clot) in my lung, but Steve tried to reassure me that he didn't think I had a PE. He was trying all he could to help me and make me comfortable.
We left for home in the early evening, and it was the most miserable drive of my life. I was timing my contractions, and at their worst they were coming regularly every 90 seconds to 2-3 minutes. We considered driving straight to the hospital but things calmed down as we entered the Ogden area. Upon finally arriving home, Steve gave me a Lortab (which is safe to take in the last trimester of pregnancy), I drank a ton of water, and then went straight to bed...enjoying a few precious hours of sleep.
On Saturday morning, I took a shower and marveled at how giant my stomach looked...it was so tight the skin was actually shiny, especially in the upper area of my tummy. The contractions and pain were not letting up as the morning progressed, and when I finally told Steve that I really thought something was wrong and then broke down in tears (I had tried to be so brave and stoic and tearless up until that point), Steve called Craig, who just happened to be the physician on call that Saturday and was already in the clinic. He told us to come straight down. I remember that I was wearing a dumpy outfit, my hair had just air-dried after my shower (the worst look for me), and I didn't have a stitch of make-up on. Weird that I had a moment of vanity right then, but I had a strong feeling that I wasn't coming home that night and wished that I was more prepared.
As soon as Craig put the fetal monitor on, the regular little peaks showing contractions popped up immediately. I had also started dilating, but only minimally. Craig was puzzled by my explanation of where I was feeling pain (usually women in labor have pain in the lower back and groin), but he had us go straight to the hospital -- McKay Dee this time.
I went to an observation area and was placed on a very uncomfortable bed. The nurses commenced with one of the most tedious and dreaded tasks I would have to endure over the next several days -- locating each baby's heartbeat with the fetal heart monitors. As they jellied my tummy and searched around for the heartbeats, I was becoming more and more miserable. I told them that my pain was at its worst when I had to lay flat, but they couldn't find the heartbeats (especially Luke's, since he was nestled in the very-lowest portion of my uterus) when I was sitting up. They were conscientious of my pain and very gradually lowered my head, but with each degree that I was lowered the pain became more excruciating. Finally, they dropped me all the way down and said they'd only make me lay like that for 2 minutes. They held the monitor to Luke's heartbeat and got a 2 minute reading before raising me back up.
It was the most acute and terrifying pain I had ever experienced. I grasped Steve's hand and begged him to make them raise me up again. It is making me cry now to recall those moments, all these months later. I remember that I was sweating profusely, I was chilled, and I gently squirmed around since it seemed IMPOSSIBLE to lie still. I recall looking up into Steve's eyes and seeing fear and uncertainty on his face.
Finally, I was admitted to a regular room, with a more comfortable bed, and was allowed to sit up straight and given pain medicine. Dr. Andres was not in town, but Craig was there most of the evening and assessed me several times. I was given magnesium sulfate to stop the progression of labor, but the contractions continued still, and the medicine just made me feel hot, nauseated, and terrible...honestly the worst medicine I've ever taken!
At around 9, an ultrasound tech came in to take a look at the babies on ultrasound. She wasn't an OB-specific technician and I don't think she did that many OB ultrasounds because it took FOREVER and she was sort of a grump. Craig came into the room shortly afterward with eyes bulging and said that my amniotic fluid levels had changed dramatically...baby B (Landon) was floating around in "an olympic-sized pool" and Luke's fluid was barely detectable. Our greatest fears were confirmed: twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome had acutely developed and was the reason for all of the complications. Landon's amniotic sac was in the upper portion of my uterus, so as it filled with an extraordinary amount of fluid, that fluid pressed on all of those organs causing the sharp pains in my back and upper abdomen, and the pressure of the excess fluid on my other organs is what caused the agony when I laid flat. As much as I was brokenhearted that TTTS had begun, I was so relieved that we finally knew the reason for all the pain and misery, and that it could possibly be lessened through the appropriate treatment.
Then the REAL fun began. :) The immediate priority was to have some of the excess fluid in Landon's sac removed, which would not cure the TTTS but would hopefully delay its progression temporarily, decrease my pain, and help to stop the contractions. I remember thinking, 'Yay, this should be a piece of cake...someone will just come in here, basically do an amniocentesis, take off some of the fluid, then we'll go from there.' I honestly never imagined that it would turn into the ordeal that we soon faced. As I mentioned before, Dr. Andres was out of town. Since there aren't many perinatologists in the area, relatively speaking, they share call between the local hospitals. Turns out, the doctor on call was working at Intermountain Medical Center (IMC) in Murray, which was about a 45-50 minute drive from McKay. Had I not been in so much pain and having such regular contractions, I probably could have driven (or at least taken the ambulance) down to Murray, but it was decided that I should be transported via helicopter...the HELICOPTER! Oh my word...what an eventful day it had certainly turned out to be.
Okay, as I am reading over what I've written so far, I sound like such a negative Nellie! I guess if I'm going to tell the story I want it to be true...and this was truly one of the most difficult times of my life. This may seem like an odd place to stop, but this post is already practically a novel and there is still so much to tell! So, look for more "Seeing Double" posts for the rest of the story...
