My husband and I conceived our twins in the summer of 2020 via IUI after struggling for a while to get pregnant. Preeclampsia had been my biggest fear the entire pregnancy and I did every possible thing I could to prevent it despite ticking all the boxes that basically guaranteed I would develop it, namely the chronic hypertension and twin pregnancy. My pregnancy was picture perfect until 32 weeks when I started noticing my daily blood pressure readings were gradually increasing but not to a crazy amount. I never expected any of the events that would take place over the next several weeks, let alone the ensuing trauma. I suffered the traumatic unexpected loss of my younger sister 5 years ago so I was no stranger to it, but this was on a whole different level.
Thursday 1/14/21 – 32 weeks 5 days
I had an appointment scheduled for 32+5 so I made sure to mention my BPs when I went. They took my reading and it came back 132/100. The doctor didn’t like the bottom number so she ordered a more detailed urine panel and some bloodwork. I told her my numbers from my BP cuff at home were normal (later found out my cuff was broken and giving me false normals) and despite one swollen ankle that would swell prior to pregnancy, I felt completely fine and normal. Either way, she suspected preeclampsia was setting in but wanted to wait until the tests were back before confirming.
Friday 1/15/21 – 32 weeks 6 days
I had an NST the next morning and the OB had asked for my BP to be monitored a few times while there. NST was normal aside from my little boy constantly eluding the monitors. Both times my BP was registering in the 140/90s. They wanted to see the labs before releasing me but they weren’t in so they let me go and said they would call later. Around lunch time, I got a call from the doctor that there was protein in my urine and the amount was significant. She wanted me to go to L & D for the first of two betamethasone shots in case I would need to deliver early, another NST and BP monitoring. I went in and my readings stayed high but the doctor ultimately released me with instructions to complete a 24 hour urine test, increase my BP med and to come back the next day for the next shot, another NST and more BP monitoring. I told her this just all seemed so excessive because I felt perfectly fine. I wasn’t.
Saturday 1/16/2021 – 33 weeks
I went into L&D the next day expecting to be in and out, but I was so wrong. My BP was 160/106 and stayed there the entire time. My urine was loaded with protein. My NST however was perfect. Everything happened pretty quickly after that. They admitted me, did the covid test, hooked me up to IVs, a magnesium drip and catheter and told me my babies were going to be delivered at 34 weeks unless my condition worsened over the next week. My husband was able to come by to drop off stuff to me and it gave us the opportunity to talk everything out with the OB and NICU staff since it was guaranteed they would be spending time there. I spent the rest of the night burning from the mag drip. Yuck!
Sunday 1/17/21 – Tuesday 1/19/21
Our virtual shower took place on Sunday morning with me in the hospital, still burning away from the mag. I came off the mag later that day and was moved to the maternity floor to stay until delivery. I was also told I would be getting a c-section on Monday 1/25 because it would be safer in my condition. I didn’t mind, I just wanted to deliver them in the safest possible way. I basically spent those few days cooped up waiting for my condition to worsen. There is nothing like that feeling, waiting for the other shoe to drop and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It was all traumatizing in its own way especially after dealing with the infertility, because it was literally my body failing me and my babies. I had to get 2x daily NSTs which always took FOREVER because my boy loved to hide. One time it took 5 nurses, a doctor and an ultrasound machine to locate him! He garnered quite the reputation on the maternity floor for being a challenge. My BPs stayed in the 130s/80s with the occasional 140s/90s.
Wednesday 1/20/21 – 33 weeks 4 days
I woke up around 3am with horrible back pain and occasional contractions so I immediately started panicking. When the nurse came in for a BP check around 4am, I told her what I was feeling and she told me my BP was 165/110. She called the doctor on call who ordered hydralazine. Luckily my numbers went down but not by much. They ran my blood and one of the doctors from my practice told me that while my other numbers looked fine, my platelet count was dropping, indicating it was likely HELLP syndrome setting in and that I had to deliver sooner than planned, definitely no later than the next day. Luckily my favorite doctor would be there so we scheduled for 1/21/21 at 9:30am. My BP spiked again later in the day so they gave me more hydralazine. They moved me to L & D that night so my husband could stay with me. Because of Covid, he hadn’t been to any appointments so he appreciated getting to witness an NST and impromptu ultrasound since little man decided to be elusive again.
Thursday 1/21/21- Birth Day & Hemorrhage
Everything got started bright and early. They ran my blood work again and my platelet count actually went up slightly which was comforting. My doctor came in and went over everything with us. It was the first time my husband got to meet him. They got me started on another mag drip and gave me some zofran and wheeled me into the OR. The spinal wasn’t bad at all but as expected, my BP dropped significantly within about a minute (from 138/96 to 90/50). I felt weird so the anesthesiologist gave me a shot of epinephrine and I felt completely normal almost instantly. My husband came into the OR and they got to work.
My baby boy, Alan Winslow III or A3, was out first and cried as soon as they cleared out his mouth. He weighed 4 lbs 7 oz and was 17.3 inches long. Baby girl, Jocelyn Devan (after my late sister, Devan) came out screaming, pissed off she was pulled from under her cozy rib cage (the nurses later told me they never saw the doctor have to reach up so high to grab a baby). She weighed 4 lbs and was also 17.3 inches long. Despite being born early, both were stabilized quickly and went off to the NICU while I got sewn up. After spending time in recovery, we made a pit stop at the NICU for a few minutes before going back to my room. While I did get to see them briefly after my c-section, I didn’t get to hold my daughter until the day after birth and my son for 4 days. Despite the C-paps covering their faces, my babies were perfection!
I regained feeling over the next few hours and had relatively little pain. Around dinner time, my husband was in the NICU and I started to feel some gushes. I told the nurse next time she came by. She checked me out and I could tell something was wrong. She told me I was bleeding much more than normal and before I knew it, several nurses came rushing into the room and a doctor, hooking up new IV meds, talking to each other about transfusions and possible surgery, but not actually talking to me. The doctor came to the bedside and told me they were going to have to manually remove clots and that it may hurt but that she had small hands. Before I had time to ask questions, she started and it was the worst most painful five plus minutes of my life. Just as I was about to pass out from the pain, it was over. All said and done, I lost over two liters of blood between the c-section and hemorrhage. Apparently it’s not uncommon for twin deliveries and being on a magnesium drip but it was the one situation I didn’t think would happen. They tried to take my blood shortly after and almost all of my veins were blown. It was by far the scariest thing I have ever experienced in my life and I am still incredibly traumatized from it, I think mainly because it happened and the doctor on call just left, if anything she treated me as if I was an annoyance. Thank god for the nurses! I will be forever thankful for them for everything they did to help me through it all.
NICU
The next few days were a blur of going to the NICU, resting and pumping. My bleeding in the hospital and beyond was minimal, probably due to the hemorrhage, which I try to see as a silver lining. My BP was low-normal and stayed that way aside from some mild elevations. I was discharged 4 days later, but my babies had to stay. Within two days of birth my daughter was on room air. My son had breathing assistance until about 2 weeks after birth and required the use of surfactant. Both had anemia, my son more severely to the point he needed several Epogen shots. She was discharged two days shy of 4 weeks old. He was discharged at 9 weeks. He struggled with feeding which they at first attributed to his anemia but after finally getting him medicated for his reflux and changing his formula, he quickly turned the corner and was home within a week. To this day, when he has a light feeding or when I think his skin looks paler than normal, I start panicking that he is going to wind up back in the hospital. I have to remind myself that he will make up for his bad feeding later and then some and that the poor kid got my fair Irish skin. The NICU is traumatic all on its own and the full experience of ours could fill a book! Thankfully, they are both absolutely thriving at home and are such precious babies. I can’t imagine my life without them!
Two days after birth, we had a very scary incident take place during one of our trips to the NICU. After making a few unkind comments to me about breastfeeding and how I shouldn’t try to touch my son so much, this one nurse (she was a floater from another hospital) was changing my daughter’s feeding tube from her mouth to her nose, hitting her vagus nerve in the process and causing her to go into bradycardia. She tried to stimulate her but needed the assistance of another more seasoned nurse who came to help make sure our baby was okay. Seeing her tiny limp body in the hands of this amazing nurse was absolutely terrifying. Meanwhile, the nurse that screwed up walked away and on her way back passed out on me! I was sitting in the recliner and thought she tripped until she fell on me. I quickly lunged from the chair, two days post c-section no less, and she sat there for a while until she said she felt better. Then she got up and stood just to the side of the isolette and not a minute later passed out hard, fell back and hit her head and was out cold. Several nurses ran over (the one was still working on our daughter) and the doctor asked us to go back to our room, despite us not knowing if our daughter was in a stable condition. This had to be the most terrifying thing we experienced and it still makes me feel sick when I think of it. The wonderfully kind doctor came to our room shortly after and explained exactly what happened with the vagus nerve and resulting bradycardia and let us know our daughter was fine and she personally made sure of it.
The Aftermath
When I got home and saw my reflection in the mirror, I looked like I had been through a war. I had lost over 30 pounds in 3 days so I looked sunken from the rapid weight loss, pale from the blood loss (and resulting anemia) and bruised up and down my arms from all the IVs and blown veins. Because of the hemorrhage, my milk supply was awful, never producing more than an ounce per pumping session. I don’t know if it was all the trauma (preeclampsia, hemorrhage and NICU), all the magnesium or a combination of both but I do not remember at all what it felt like to be pregnant and even worse, I don’t remember how it felt when my babies kicked. I’m beyond heartbroken over that.
There are a lot of things I sadly missed out on not only because of my situation but also because of Covid: not having my husband be able to attend appointments and ultrasounds, having to attend my baby shower from the confines of the hospital, no skin to skin, none of those beautiful newborn photos I so badly wanted and so much more. I try not to dwell on it because at the end of the day, I am so incredibly fortunate to have walked away from it alive with two healthy babies. I do find myself downplaying the trauma I experienced when I know whoever I am talking to either is uncomfortable hearing what happened to me or simply just can’t comprehend that kind of trauma. I also feel guilty that I am so traumatized when other people had it worse. My doctor has said we are fine to have more kids in 2 years but we are most likely going to forego growing our family with more tiny humans and stick to adding dogs instead. This was just too eye opening to all that can go wrong and I can’t imagine risking leaving my husband and babies who need me here.
The Author
My name is Brooke and I live in Harleysville, Pennsylvania. I am married to my teenage crush turned husband, Alan, mom to twins, Alan and Jocelyn and fur child, Abby. You can follow me on Instagram at @brooke_test
