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Coming Home from the Hospital Without My Twins

Twiniversity — Wed, 12 Sep 2018 04:00:42 +0000

When I originally found out that I was having mono-mono twins (identical twins who share both a placenta and an amniotic sac) I was concerned about the C-section and then time in the NICU. I didn’t give too much thought to the idea of them being in the NICU and me being at home. But for 80 nights I blew them kisses and sang them songs and said goodnight to them, tucked into their isolettes, before heading home to have dinner with their two-year-old brother and spend the night with him. The first night after I was discharged from the hospital following my C-section was challenging; I felt like my body had failed my girls, delivering them at 29 weeks and 5 days, instead of their scheduled date. I was sore and uncomfortable, healing physically from the C-section but also trying to process and heal emotionally from their births and them being in the NICU. Logically, I knew they were in the best hands; they were safe and well cared for, but I felt as if I wasn’t really their parent at that moment. I felt at a loss for what to do next; I was a new mum of three, but only one of my kids was at home with me. I did feel that being present for my son at night was important, that I still made him dinner and asked about his day at daycare, read him stories and sang him songs, just like I had done hours before to his sisters in the hospital. Yet, once he was tucked into bed and fast asleep, I had trouble resting. I packed my lunch for the next day at the hospital, ran the laundry, pumped, sterilized, and then laid wide awake in bed, my hands on my stomach, wishing to feel the sweet flutters of two tiny babies inside. Despite knowing that my girls were right where they should be, emotionally, I felt drained. I felt completely alone and isolated, I remember feeling that the walls in my tiny house were closing in even more. I was exhausted; exhausted from my surgery, from recovery, from the hospital stay, and emotionally exhausted about the uncertainty about my new life. I felt disconnected from myself the first night; I hadn’t had time to process what was happening with their births, that they were coming even earlier than expected. I didn’t know how to explain it to myself really, let alone my son or anyone else who asked what went wrong. When faced with the anxiety of the unknown, when I felt like I had no more tears left, and when I momentarily thought of giving up, of getting under the covers and never coming back out, I thought of my son and my girls and how they needed me. And so from out of the covers I arose, and told myself to take it one day at a time, that there was no way to know what the future held, that there would be good and bad days, but that my children needed me, and the girls especially needed me to be strong as they grew stronger themselves. When it was time to pump again, I strapped myself to the pump, and then called the hospital. I was connected with their nurse, who was just checking on them; she was able to talk to me while caring for them thanks to their technology system that hung from the lanyard around their neck. She talked me through changing them, feeding them, all while tears streamed down my face and I heard little grunts and groans from them. She reassured me that they were fine, well taken care of and that I could call anytime to talk with them. I said goodnight again to the girls, sterilized my pumping equipment, and stored my milk in the fridge to take with me the next day. I still could not sleep, uncomfortable with my body and unsure how to parent twins in the NICU properly, unsure how to be present for all three of my kids, ensuring that my son also felt loved and supported and well cared for while I journeyed back and forth between the hospital and home, feeling incomplete without the girls there. It took a couple days to get into a routine, but it did develop, and I started doing more with my twins; changing their diapers, helping with their feeds, participating in rounds. I would say goodnight to them and spend the evening with my son, but always called my daughters to listen to their gurgles as I pumped any milk I could for them. Every day became slightly easier; I knew the staff, the machines, the hospital life. Though, as we got closer to discharge, I started to fear that I could not handle it on my own, without the staff around to help me. And again, I reminded myself to take it one day at a time. That we would get through it in the best way we could. And then, after 80 nights away from them, I brought them home to meet their big brother, and to experience life outside of the NICU for the first time. And even now, four and a half years later, I still love to listen to them sleeping in the night, knowing that they did have the best beginning they could. Related Articles

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My Non-Identical Identical Twins

Twiniversity — Tue, 17 Jul 2018 05:00:28 +0000

Every parent wants their child to be special. We want everyone to recognize how smart, talented, sweet, and adorable our children are. With twins or more, we worry that people will lump our kids together, won’t see them as individuals, and will ignore how special they are. Particularly with identical twins, strangers ask how we tell them apart and make jokes about them pulling a parent trap on us as they get older. But of course we know our children and we would be able to tell them apart a mile away. My girls weren’t identical for long, and actually never truly were. When I was pregnant I could tell the girls apart. Raegan was squirmy, moving all over the place, doing flips, and exploring her limited tummy space, while Ella was calm, happy to find a spot and get cozy. There was also a size difference, which now has grown to a full pound (which I joke is all in the cheeks since Ella has big, rosy cheeks and Raegan seems so itty bitty in comparison.) When the girls were born, Ella had a brain bleed, essentially changing her forever from her identical twin. This first year has been filled with many ups and downs. I have watched my girls grow and watched as they discovered new things, tried new foods, heard new sounds, and it’s been amazing. But I have also watched Raegan develop at a typical rate, hitting her milestones, now getting close to walking and talking, while Ella is not able to sit up yet, let alone crawl or walk. Ella struggles to feed herself, while Raegan refuses to be fed, preferring to grab her food herself. The girls’ personalities have remained the same outside of my tummy; Ella is calm and observant and Raegan needs to constantly be moving. Raegan is a bit high-maintenance; she needs things done right away, her way, or there are tears and screams. As the girls have grown further apart developmentally, it has become hard to tend to both of their unique needs and personalities. I learned early on that with all of Ella’s doctor appointments, I could not take Raegan with me. For one thing, I did not want to expose her to the germs floating around at doctors offices, but mostly because she would refuse to wait. She would not sit for hours waiting for a doctor, and I could not handle both girls having a meltdown. My mom has become my go-to Raegan watcher while I trek Ella across the city, often for hours at a time. As the girls get bigger, it becomes harder to give them my equal attention, to be able to meet their individual needs. Raegan is currently having separation anxiety and she wants me nearby all the time. I can sit and play with both girls, but Ella needs to sit in my lap or she has to lie down, and I hate the idea of her constantly laying down or being propped up with pillows. When we’re out of the house, Raegan can sit in a high chair and Ella cannot. Usually, I hold Ella and feed them both, but sometimes Raegan gets mad, and when Raegan gets mad, the world shakes. Inevitably, Ella is put back in the stroller so Raegan can get calming cuddles. Sometimes Ella is fine, but sometimes she too gets upset and I feel bad as a mother who can’t be there for both her babies at the same time. I think ahead, to when Raegan is walking and refusing to go in the stroller, and their big brother wants to do everything on his own, and I imagine juggling the three of them and think that poor Ella will probably end up in a carrier or in the stroller most of the time while I hold Raegan’s hand to help her walk. I think about daycare — how Raegan will most likely be walking when she starts and will flourish, and I worry about Ella, that if she isn’t sitting up on her own yet that her options become limited. Raegan is a mover and a shaker. In fact, the only time that she’s sitting still is when she’s eating. Her new favorite thing is to roll over on the changing table while I’m changing her bum, trying to escape. She is fast and always after what she shouldn’t have. She can crawl the length of the house in under a minute and can be hard to wrangle. She loves to try to break free from her play yard and I don’t doubt that someday she will. She’s exhausting just from her physicality, her constant on the go wriggliness that extends to the stroller, which she only likes if we’re in constant motion. The moment the stroller or car stops at a red light, the screeches start. My son would sit and play for hours in one spot; she can’t handle five minutes. She is exhausting, but in so many ways I wish Ella could do the same. Sometimes I worry about the girls’ twinship, that their different abilities will change their relationship. But then, just a few weeks ago, I sat on the floor of the clinic room, with both my girls in my lap, and they told me that Ella has cerebral palsy. I teared up, despite knowing that this was coming…and then I looked down and the girls were holding hands. I don’t think anything can change their dynamic, their relationship, and I get to watch my girls grow and learn, and try new things, no matter the ability. Alyssa Keel has worked as a social worker in both Canada and the U.S. for several years. Living in Toronto, Alyssa is mum to a rambunctious, curious, and loving two-year-old boy and one-year-old identical twin girls. During her high-risk mono-mono twin pregnancy, Alyssa began blogging, an extension of her love of writing. Alyssa loves taking photos and impromptu dance parties with her… Continue Reading My Non-Identical Identical Twins

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What No One Ever Told Me About Twins

Twiniversity — Mon, 16 May 2016 05:00:38 +0000

It really is amazing how little I knew about twins until I became pregnant with them. Beyond identical and fraternal, my twin knowledge was relatively low, and I was the first person among family and friends to have twins, so my appreciation of twin facts and tidbits came about naturally as I navigated being a mum of multiples. Still, the majority of what I heard from passersby were about how hard it would be to have two babies at once. Yet, as my girls came home and I discovered what life is like with twins, I learned about what no one ever told me about twins, some of which are listed here; The twin bond is real and amazing I had heard about the twin bond before, but was not sure what that would really look like or mean. As my girls were mono/mono and shared not only a placenta, but also an amniotic sac, I naturally assumed that they would be quite close, but it really was not until I witnessed their bond that I understood how truly special and powerful the twin bond is. One of my girls spent a lot of her first year in and out of appointments and hospital visits, and whenever she would come home, her sister always seemed to just know when she needed an extra hug or cuddle and would gravitate to her. When they are getting a snack, they always ask for one for their sister as well, almost as if one could not exist without the other. Even at two years old it is still evident; the other night when one of my girls was upset and crying, the other patted her on the back and told her that everything was alright. Still, my favorite story of getting to be witness to their unique bond and sisterly love was when we were out and about running errands and I glanced down at my girls in their side-by-side stroller and they were holding hands. It was a moment that caught me totally off guard, just exhausted from living the mom life, but then instantly filled with pure love and appreciation for how special my children truly are. Exhaustion is just the beginning I knew I would be tired, I had a two-year old son when my girls were born, but he was a singleton and a good sleeper. I had no idea how utterly exhausted I would be, how the sleepless nights and long days would blend together to create a perfect storm of mental and physical exhaustion that still envelops me a little over two years later. Beyond the exhaustion though is the realization of how quickly I could learn to function on minimal or no sleep. The truth is, things needed to get done, and though sleep was important, so were getting groceries or making meals or just sitting down and having a cup of tea before the naps were done and the cycle started all over again. Two years on, I have accepted that five hours of sleep a night is probably as good as it will get, and that work and my personal life can and will survive through a couple of yawns every now and then. Still, the dream of sleeping in is still alive and well and I long for a Sunday morning lie-in as much as that first hit of caffeine in the morning. Priorities will shift, and that’s okay There was a time before children where weekends could be spent blissfully wandering through the city, having last minute plans, or simply laying on the couch being lazy. Friends were plentiful and seeing them regularly was important. Even after my son was born, it was easy to see friends and go out, either with him in the stroller or carrier. But, once the girls were born and spent 80 days in the NICU, my priorities changed, and it did not take long to realize which friends would be able to handle my new reality, and who could not. The reality was simply that it was not as easy or practical to do as much with two newborns and an older brother as it was when there was only one babe to care for. Brunch dates dwindled, as did nights out without the kids, but I found immense happiness in my three kids, despite how challenging it was, and those who understand that I may be late or busy or focused on one hundred things at a time are the ones that I am happy have stuck by me in my transition into mum of three. Double the mess, double the love I will not deny that two toddlers come with a whole heap of mess, and the financial burden alone adds to the stress, but I am so happy to say that while others may say that we have double the trouble, what we in fact have, is double the love. While others have one excited baby to see them in the morning, we have two. We have two to cuddle, two to watch splashing around in the tub, two to tickle, two to push on swings. Is it hard? Absolutely, the hardest job ever, in fact, but it is so beyond worth it, and every day I am reminded of how special it is to have twins, to be their mum, and to be on the path that I have found myself on. Alyssa Keel has worked as a social worker in both Canada and the U.S. for several years. Living in Toronto, Alyssa is a single mum to a rambunctious four-year-old boy and amazing two-year-old identical twin girls, one of whom has Cerebral Palsy. During her high risk mono/mono twin pregnancy, Alyssa began blogging, an extension of her love of writing. Alyssa loves taking photos and impromptu dance parties with her kids. Follow Alyssa and her family’s adventures at adventureswithmultiples.com. * * * Related Article Twin Pregnancy Calendar: What To Do… Continue Reading What No One Ever Told Me About Twins

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Twins in the NICU: Our 80-Day Journey Home

Twiniversity — Fri, 23 Jan 2015 05:00:18 +0000

In November, I shared my mono mono pregnancy story, but that was only the beginning of our journey home as a family. On January 7, 2014, my twin girls Ella and Raegan were born at 29 weeks gestation. Immediately after being born, the girls were whisked out of the operating room to the awaiting NICU team who got them breathing and in stable condition. While the doctors stitched me closed, I was able to watch the girls on two monitors above me, but all I could see were tiny babies with shocking dark hair. Once stable, the girls were wheeled down to their first home, the NICU, where they stayed for 80 days. Before I was taken to the recovery room, we were being asked to provide consent for the girls to be given donor breast milk through the hospital program that is offered to babies born before 32 weeks. We agreed, and after I was moved, I was being asked to hand express any colostrum I may have. Exhausted from a day with no food or sleep, waiting to see if we would be delivering that day, and still unable to move from the C-section, I was propped up and managed to get a couple drops. Throughout the night, I was woken up to hand express and though I asked about the girls, none of the nurses knew how they were doing. Eventually my husband came back and told me he had checked on them shortly after midnight and had been given keys to their room. We were lucky to get one of the two twin rooms in the NICU so that the girls would be in the same room together for their journey, though in two separate isolettes. I was desperate to see my girls, but I wasn’t allowed until I was able to properly use my legs, which were weak from the c-section. Finally, the afternoon after they were born, I met my girls. Tiny two-pound babies, asleep on their bellies, getting oxygen from CPAP machines and being cared for by amazing nurses who leave their families every day to take care of the smallest, sickest babies. We were told the girls were doing well, and I was encouraged to keep pumping; the girls receiving a mix of my drops of milk and the donor milk. Two days later, I was able to hold Raegan for the first time; the nurse tucked her onto my chest, with her CPAP machine still on, and after she was wrapped up with my hospital gown and a receiving blanket, we did kangaroo care for the first time for hours. In all the chaos and fear of the unexpected early delivery, having her there with me finally made me feel like her mum. The next day, after we had said goodnight to the girls, we headed home to have dinner with our 23 month old son. We had barely finished when I received a phone call from the hospital; Ella was in distress and they didn’t think she would make it. Unsure what had happened, the nurse practitioner told me everything that was going on but it was hard to understand, to process. They wanted us back in the hospital, but before that, they wanted consent to give her blood and platelet transfusions. I agreed and quickly called my parents to stay with our son so we could go back. Still sore from my C-section, I slowly waddled through the hospital, bent over, all the way to our girls’ room, the last room in the unit, and the longest walk I have ever taken. Unsure of what we would find, we opened the door. Sweet Ella was surrounded by staff, working to correct so many things that went wrong all at once. She had tore a hole in her lung (a pneumothorax) and she was struggling to breathe, to keep her feeds down, and to keep her heart rate up. Almost immediately after receiving the transfusions she changed for the better. Eventually, when things were stable, we headed home again. The next day, the doctor came to see us and told us that Ella’s head ultrasound had revealed she had a grade four brain bleed and that there was fluid on her brain, called hydrocephalus. Most likely, the bleed occurred because of a lack of oxygen during birth. Even now they knew why the brain bleed might have happened, but they had no idea what it meant. The doctor told us that often the bleeds result in physical or developmental disabilities, and sometimes hearing and vision problems. But we wouldn’t know until she got older. Not knowing what the future will hold was one of the hardest parts of the NICU journey. Many babies with hydrocephalus have to have shunts placed to drain the excess fluid on the brain, but Ella never needed it. She did get ultrasounds twice a week until she came home to monitor the swelling in her brain. For two weeks, Ella was heavily sedated and hated being touched. During handling times, she would squirm and cry. Finally, her nurse said I could hold her. She was fussy and mad until she was placed on my chest, and immediately she calmed, and fell asleep, buried into my skin. After that, she was the calmest baby, rarely fussing. With her stable, I was able to hold the girls together, and I would spend at least two or three hours every day with the girls together, wrapped up in my arms. As we got closer to my due date and the girls got bigger, we started them breastfeeding and on bottles. Unfortunately, my milk supply which had always been very low dried up completely so the girls were switched to formula in bottles. The end was in sight, we were so close to our due date, and hopefully home, but the girls had a hard time with feeding. Ella in particular would often drink too quickly, then would… Continue Reading Twins in the NICU: Our 80-Day Journey Home

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Two Babies, One Sac: My Mono Mono Twin Pregnancy

Twiniversity — Wed, 12 Nov 2014 04:00:34 +0000

Before I became pregnant with my twin girls, I never paid much attention to types of twins. Of course, I knew about identical, fraternal, and conjoined, but I didn’t realize there were other types of twins. It wasn’t until our ultrasound technician told me at twelve weeks that I was having “mono mono” twins that I learned they even existed. There are four distinct types of twins fraternal, or dichorionic/diamniotic (di/di), have their own placentas and sacs and are essentially like two pregnancies at once identical, or monochorionic/diamniotic (mono/di), share a placenta but each have their own sacs identical monochorionic/monoamniotic (mono/mono) who share both a placenta and sac and occur in only 1% of twin pregnancies conjoined twins, who are identical twins connected to each other by a body part. The following chart illustrates when these types of twins occur after the egg splits. Since I had never heard of mono mono twins, I did what I suspect many would do; I turned to Google. I was greeted by scary statistics; that many mono mono (sometimes referred to as MoMo) pregnancies end in loss, including stillborn deaths; that one or both babies could die due to cord entanglements, twin to twin transfusion syndrome, or cord pinches; that all mono mono babies are delivered via c-section by 34 weeks at the latest, if not before then, and that many moms are admitted for inpatient monitoring at 24 weeks. Everyone told me to ignore the statistics and to stop Googling before speaking with my doctor. So, I hoped that the internet was wrong — I hoped that my doctor, who had delivered my son and had been fantastic during my first pregnancy, would tell me everything would be fine, and that we would end up with two healthy, wonderful babies. Unfortunately, she simply confirmed that everything I had read was true. As she described the risks and how different this pregnancy would be, I cried. I cried because I already loved my babies, babies who were about the size of plums, and there was a chance we would have to say goodbye before we even got to say hello. Every week, I was back at the hospital for ultrasounds and visits with my doctor, and it seemed like every week, something else was wrong. At first, we were told that Twin B had a two-vessel cord, meaning that they only had one vein bringing nutrients and one artery taking waste away, instead of two arteries. Then, Twin A had what appeared to be a small corpus collosum, which has been linked to developmental disabilities. Twin B needed an echocardiogram and extra ultrasounds to check on the kidneys because of the two-vessel cord and there was some concern that problems were showing up on the ultrasound. By fourteen weeks, the cords were tangled. At 18 weeks, the ultrasound technician asked me if I wanted to know the babies’ sex. My husband was in class, so I said no, but as his birthday was coming up, I asked the nurse if she would write it down for me and put it in an envelope so we could find out together. On his birthday, after he had opened all his gifts, when we were out to dinner, I pulled the envelope out of my purse and, together, we opened it to discover we were having girls! After such a rough pregnancy with so much fear, it was sweet to think about having two little girls. At 22 weeks, my husband and I met with a NICU pediatrician who described to us what it would be like if the girls were born at 24 weeks and what the NICU experience would be like. My c-section was scheduled for January 24, at 32 weeks + one day, so we knew the girls would be born early, but there was a chance that they would be born earlier. It was terrifying to hear all the challenges our girls would face, and even taking a tour of the NICU only calmed us a little. At 24 weeks, on a Monday, my doctor asked me to decide if we would want the girls to be treated if they were born that early, I said yes, that we would want everything to be done to save our girls no matter when they were born. She decided to admit me as inpatient that coming Wednesday. I had one day to prepare at work and at home to be admitted to the hospital for potentially two months, which would include Christmas. We came up with a plan for our 19 month old son, and then, on the Wednesday, my husband and I went to breakfast, and then with my suitcase and pillow in tow, he brought me to the hospital. Every day I was to be monitored three times for twenty minutes. Of course, seeing as the girls were so small, they were hard to find and twenty minutes often turned into several hours, fingers cramping trying to hold on to the monitors to keep an ear on the babies’ heartbeats. Twice a week I had an ultrasound and their growth was monitored. I hated living in the hospital. Beyond the terrible food, my roommate constantly cried and I missed my son terribly. With Christmas fastly approaching, I was bummed that I would miss it, my favourite time of the year, and full of family traditions. After three weeks of inpatient care, my doctor discharged me to outpatient day care, which meant that I was back at the hospital for daily monitoring and ultrasounds, but meant I could sleep at home. It also meant that I got to be there for Christmas, after I spent the morning at the hospital. January 6, at 29 weeks, I was back at the hospital for an ultrasound and doctor’s appointment. Though everything looked fine in the ultrasound, she wanted the girls’ heartbeats monitored. The nurse could not find two distinct heartbeats, and with lots of dips,… Continue Reading Two Babies, One Sac: My Mono Mono Twin Pregnancy

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