Aislynn Marie

Our daughter, Aislynn Marie Heininger.  Let me tell you about her.  Because I did know her.  We did get to know her while I carried her and her sister.  She was my early riser.  She kicked earlier in the morning than her sister did.  She was the first to reposition herself if I rolled over in the night.  Her movements were usually less sudden than her sister's, more fluid, like she was leisurely turning over instead of the jerky kicks and punches Norah was known for.  She carried low in my belly so when she did decide to really haul off and kick me, it often felt like she was kicking me directly in my lady parts.  That made me jump every time and amused Jay to no end.  She seemed more affected by my rare soda splurges and was most active in the afternoon.

She took care of me.  I know it sounds odd that my still in utero baby took care of me but she did.  She kicked whenever I was hungry.  She let me know I had missed lunch if I got busy at work and she kicked if she decided I needed a snack in the afternoon.  I always said she took care of both me and Norah by making sure mommy got enough to eat and drink.

She moved in that gentle way of hers every time I cried about her.  It was so strange, I could cry about a silly commercial or cry about some work stress or just cry because I was full of pregnancy hormones and she would let me.  But if I cried about her and how hard the thought of losing her was or how unfair it was that we had to let one of our girls go or cried about how I was so afraid, she would move.  She let me cry for a bit, kind of letting it out, but after several minutes she would move as if to calm me down.  It was like she was saying, "It's okay, Mommy.  I'm still here now."  It would never fail to make me smile and remind me that she was right, we still had time to celebrate her.  The mourning could wait, now was the time for joy.

She took better ultrasound pictures than her sister did.  It was like she was showing off her pretty face for the "camera".  She turned for profile shots and moved her hands so we could see her suck her fingers.  She also, somehow in those last few ultrasounds, managed to position herself so that the ultrasound picture showed not just her bone structure but her actual nose and lips and chin.  How they were shaped and how pretty they were.  She held still for the heartbeat images to calm Mommy down.  Don't get me wrong, Norah took good US pics, too, since she's so pretty, she was just more stubborn and would not turn for the US tech to get good pictures.  Aislynn knew we needed as many pictures of her as we could get.  She knew how were were trying so hard to just be happy we had her with us and so she posed for pictures to help us.

My only thought on "that Monday" when I woke up and went into preterm labor was that I wasn't ready to say goodbye.  I was scared for Norah, too, of course and I suppose a better mother would have been equally worried for the daughter who had the chance to live a long life, but I could mostly only think of Aislynn.  I wasn't ready to say goodbye to my girl; it was too soon, we were supposed to have more time.  We were supposed to get her arrangements done and already have her dress picked out.  There was supposed to be more time.  But she and God must have known something we didn't.  All day, laying in a hospital bed having contractions, listened to Norah's heartbeat they had on the monitor but I thought of Aislynn.  And I prayed.  I prayed that we would have time with her, that she could hang on and keep her and her sister inside for a bit longer to give time for the steroids to work on Norah's lungs.

Aislynn gave us all the time she could and my labor progressed and Dr. Meyer said it was time.  He gave her a big loud "Happy Birthday" just the same as Norah and just the same as he probably gives every other baby he delivers.  You may be thinking its odd or cynical of me to be pleasantly surprised by that but I am well aware that many other doctors consider Aislynn as less than a whole baby because of her defect.  That all she would have been to them was a "non-viable fetus" and would have encouraged us to selectively abort her.  We had one high-risk OB doctor who kind of made me think he felt that way.  Luckily he was not our primary, Dr. Meyer was.  Dr. Meyer saw her as we did, as a beautiful strong little girl and just as much our beloved daughter as Norah.

We had talked at length with Dr. Meyer about the kind of intervention we were willing to do with Aislynn.  By intervention I mean what we were medically willing to do if she were not born breathing.  We decided not to subject her to anything to invasive like intubation or chest compression   It would be cruel to hold her soul here if it was time for her to go Home.  But some babies, even regular, full-term, healthy babies need a few breaths with a bag mask just to get started.  So that is what we agreed to, breaths with a bag mask for less than five or so minutes.

Our strong girl only needed a few breaths to get going.  She just needed a tiny bit of help so she could see her mom and dad.  I saw the nurse standing over her with Jay.  I watched her place our baby girl in her Daddy's arms so he could show her to me.  Jay said she was the first little baby he has ever held and I must say it didn't show.  He was just a Daddy proudly holding his first born.

We talked to her.  We said hello and told her how much we love her.  We told her how beautiful she was and marveled to each other how pretty she was.  Her little lips were so perfectly formed and her nose was the cutest little button.  She had long beautiful fingers on her little hands.  She had shapely little feet.  She was a perfectly, lovingly made little baby girl.  I sang a little to her as best I could from my position on the operating table.  We told her over and over and over again how much we love her and how proud we were of her and how strong she was.  We touched her hands and feet and stroked her little cheeks and lips and nose.  We thanked her for being ours and for protecting Norah.   Eventually, there was some slight change that I don't even think I could describe and we told her that if it was hard, if she was tired, that she could go Home.  That she should go with Jesus and run and play in Heaven.  That it would just seem like moments to her in Paradise till Mommy and Daddy were with her again.  A wonderful nurse had been checking her heartbeat every several minutes checked her one last time and then shook her head.  She was gone.  Jesus had gathered her up gently into his arms and carried her to Heaven so she can rest and play.  Our Aislynn, our beautiful, beloved baby girl, could dance and run and laugh and play because I know that the instant Jesus held her, she was made whole.  Nothing was hard or hurt.  She gave us the most perfect and beautiful 25 minutes I will ever experience in my entire life.
Jay was holding her the whole time.  I thought later at the beautiful symmetry of Aislynn going from one father's arms, her earthly father, to her Heavenly Father's arms.

After surgery in the recovery room, I got to hold the little body where my baby's soul lived.  A nurse lovingly washed her and put her in a pretty little dress and hat and gave her a stuffed bunny to hold.  A giving photographer with an organization called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep donated her time and took so, so many pictures of her and us.  Nurses found a way to wheel my hospital bed all the way into the heart of the NICU right after surgery so that we could take pictures of our girls together.  We took pictures of their hands and feet together so that someday we will be able to show Norah that she really did have a sister.  I held her all the way back to my hospital room so we could show her to our families.  Her grandparents held her and her aunt and uncle (my sister and brother) got to see her.  Eventually it was time to let her go.  I knew that the pretty little body was just the vessel my Aislynn had occupied for a time but the reality of letting her go and never holding her again was so terrible.  Jay and I laid in the bed and held her and looked at her.  Then he got up and went out to tell a nurse that we were ready.  Were we ready?  No.  But I don't think you can be ready for that.  I knew I wouldn't have the strength to hand her to a stranger; thankfully my husband, her Daddy, was strong enough for both of us.  I handed her one last time to her Daddy and he kissed her and handed her to the nurse.  Then I sobbed.

I had cried hard in the operating room when she died and the tears had never completely dried up.  But after we let her go I really sobbed.  I sobbed for the months of pain and fear we felt as we carried her not knowing what would happen.  I sobbed for the shock of realizing that we were going to have to say goodbye to our daughter.  I sobbed for the loss of our first born child.  I sobbed for the loss of this dream, this vision of twins that I had when we first found out about them.  But mostly I sobbed for my girl.  I sobbed for the loss of my daughter and the holidays we wouldn't celebrate with her and the birthdays we would miss with her and the arguments we would never have and the late nights cuddling we would never have.

I miss her.  I miss her so much.  That may seem impossible given the short time we had and her defect but I do.  Just because she was cognitively lacking changes nothing.  Her soul was here and a part of our family.  Jay and I and Norah and Aislynn were a family and I firmly believe our souls knew each other.  And now we miss her here with us.

I know she watches over us and is the reason that Norah did so well and got out of the NICU so fast.  I know she felt the love we have for her.  I know she knew her Daddy was the one holding her and that her Mommy was singing to her.  And I know she loves us, too.

People may think that because this is so painful, that not mentioning her and not bringing up the topic is more gentle because they don't want to upset us.  But for me that seems to hurt worse.  I need to talk about her.  I need for people to know she was real and here and that we will celebrate her as we mourn her.  We are really mourning for ourselves, for how we will miss her.  She is dancing in paradise.

Thank you for reading this story of our daughter.  Thank you for sharing in her life.  Thank you for supporting us through our joy and grief.

To Aislynn - Your Mommy and Daddy think of you every moment of every day.  You will be talked about and remembered always.  Norah will know how much you love her and how you protected her.  You are so loved, baby girl.  We will see you some day soon.  You can show us the best spots in Heaven to play and take us to see all the people you've met.  Fly with us, angel.  Mommy and Daddy love you.

"How very softly you tiptoed into my world.

Almost silently; only a moment you stayed.

But what an imprint your footprints have left

on our hearts."

Woah, this is really happening Part 2

So now for Part 2 of the day our girls were born.  Warning: this is gonna be a very long one because I can't break it up as easy as the first bit.  And it carries the same Gross Disclaimer as Part 1.

Monday went by kind of strangely after the crazy, terror-filled early morning.  They had me on the magnesium sulfate (known hereafter as "mag" as the nurses called it) which made my face burn like I had an insanely high fever.  Which, of course, I did not have because they were also fast pumping me full of antibiotics and checking my temp rather often.  I explained to Jay that with the membranes around our girls broken, my womb becomes like the perfect breeding ground for anything and everything.  I think he may have already knew that but let me tell him.  The mag made me feel strange.  I got a cool new bracelet to add to my collection of hospital bracelets that was bright yellow and said "Fall Risk".  I may have asked someone at some point who told them I was clumsy and that person smiled gently and said the mag can make people fall down because it is a muscle relaxant.  Ahhh, I said, that explains why I feel like I can't move, too, huh?  Yes, this kind nurse said.

After the sun came up and things were more quiet, my parents came back from taking my brother home (he was at the hospital because it had looked at first like the babies were coming right then) and Jay and his mom went to run some errands since we could have babies at any time and would have babies in less than 48hours.  Jay had seemed so calm, making sure I was okay with him leaving.  There was so much to get done that we thought we'd have more time for.  He packed some clothes and took a shower at the house while his mom emptied our dishwasher.  Yes, folks, my mother-in-law saw my messy, messy house and did some cleaning while she was there.  Thankfully she must have pretended she never saw anything amiss because I didn't hear anything about it.  He went to Wal-Mart for some other supplies that for some reason I decided I had to have, like house slippers and a robe and a nursing bra.  He also picked up our little recorders for our girls, more on those later.  My parents sat with me while Jay was gone.  My mom was her normal self and handled me having contractions during our conversation very well.  You see, the contractions never really completely stopped.  They diminished greatly and were not too frequent or regular but they were still there.  I would just need a moment to breathe and be quiet and then the conversation could keep going.  I can't completely remember exactly what we talked about but it was delightfully normal mixed in with my fears of not being ready for this, not being ready to say good-bye to our Aislynn.

I only had two monitors on by that point, too.  There was a monitor for the contractions and another for Norah's heartbeat.  It was so hard to keep a monitor on Aislynn and there was not way of knowing if her heartbeat became abnormal if that meant something was wrong or if it was just her.  So she didn't have a monitor.  They spot checked her heartbeat when they did my vitals (or anytime I asked, really).  I did understand that from a medical standpoint, Norah was the focus.  Did that make it any easier to feel like my daughter Aislynn was being overlooked?  No, of course not.  And I probably would have protested if we had any other doctor than our Dr. Meyer.  I knew he knew how we felt about Aislynn and I knew he didn't view her as anything other than our beautiful daughter and that is how I could accept the lack of monitor.  I trusted him, we both did.

My parents left after a bit, with lots of reassurance from me that it was fine they had stuff to do.  My mom said she had to go clean.  She cleans a few houses along with her bus route and I thought that's what she was going to go do.  But it seems that the conversation we had about how our house wasn't ready and my kitchen was a mess and the laundry needed done was only forgotten by me and that is what she left to do.  I was alone for a bit and I tried to sleep, I really did.  But it was bright in there and Norah kept moving away from her monitor which stressed me out trying to keep it over her little heartbeat and its a hospital with noise and stress and who can really blame me for not falling asleep.  Then my nurse Patty came in and said they were moving me to another room in ante-partum (I was still in labor and delivery at that point).  I can't remember if I asked for my phone to text Jay or if I didn't think of that.  I do remember the nurses moving me asking me to hold the slack in my IVs as they moved me and I am glad I did.  It is lucky that tubing is so stretchy.  I was stressed out in the new room because I wanted to lay on my side to see the door so I would see when Jay came back but it was so hard to get Norah on the monitor on that side.  But then Jay was back and it was okay.

The afternoon passed.  I don't remember if it felt quick or slow.  From my stand point now, it was too, too fast.  I did keep having contractions but they were still not too terribly bad or regular.  Jay and his mom, Karen, were in there and I guess we talked.  I don't really remember.  I remember trying to keep the washcloth on my face cool because my face was hell-fire burning from the mag.  And I remember Nurse Patty's awesome idea to get a hospital pail filled with ice and several washcloths and keep changing them out of the ice bath.  That was wonderful.  I may have dozed a bit but it was so, so hard to calm down to sleep while being so afraid.  I spent so much time that afternoon just praying that God would let our girls wait a bit longer.  Just a bit longer so the steroids could work on Norah's lungs and begging him to postpone the time that we would have to say goodbye to our Aislynn.  The girls didn't move around much since they had no fluid to move in that afternoon.  I had some guilt about that too; my poor babies stuck in their drained home.  Eventually, after some last minute Amazon.com baby shopping for which I am ever grateful for, my mother-in-law, Karen, went home.  And Jay and I were left to just wait.  I don't know what he did that evening.  I know my contractions were getting stronger.  I remember the nurses changing shifts and us getting our night nurse Margie.  Margie looked kind of tough and no nonsense which scared me a bit.  Turns out she was tough and no nonsense but that is exactly the perfect kind of nurse we needed that night.  She was also incredibly kind and calming and knew exactly what to do always.

The contractions eventually got so, so painful.  Like above what I could stand.  Margie would feel my belly during them and assured me that they didn't feel like they were too strong for the girls, it was just the fact that they were in my back that made them so painful.  She told me a few tips for breathing that really helped.  I may have sounded silly "sighing them away" like she told me but it worked and I handled them for a few more hours.  Eventually pain and despair started to overwhelm me and I just was so tired.  Dr. Meyer had said that morning that the decision to give me pain meds needed to be monitored because if the contractions were causing me that much pain, something may be happening.  Margie checked me and just kind of said okay with a little calm smile and left.  It got dark sometime around this time and Jay turned on the TV to watch wrestling like he does every Monday.  I was vaguely irritated by this as I was having his babies and he was watching is progr'm but he said he spent the evening staring at me and freaking out that I was in so much pain.  Margie came in after a bit with a wonderful syringe of morphine.  And that did work, for a bit at least.  It made me relax and super woozy.  I vaguely, vaguely remember laying on my side kind of floating and feeling the contractions but it was like they were both not quite as bad and I just couldn't work up enough energy to care about them.  Eventually the pain relief of the morphine started to wear away but not the woozy bit.  Then I was feeling the full contractions but not able to express how bad they hurt again.  Jay and Margie would talk every now and again and I do remember her asking him how often I was moaning in my sleep but I don't remember his answer.    Jay just told me as I was writing that she came in at about 11:50pm or so and checked me again and said she was going to call Dr. Meyer just to check in with him.  He believes that was her wonderful, perfect nurse was of saying "Holy crap, time is up" but she didn't express any of that to us.  She popped in one more time to say Dr. Meyer was back on call (he is unavailable on Monday nights) and he was going to go ahead and come in to check on me.  I don't remember her saying he was coming, I just remember her saying I was back under his care.

[Oh, the babies recorder things.  I was going to talk about those and this a good time.  A wonderful woman a friend connected me with has been through this same thing with her twin girls and watching one of them go to Heaven.  She and her husband recorded each girls' heartbeat on a little recorder thing and the put it inside a stuffed animal.  This seemed so perfect to be able to show Norah someday that her sister was real and this is what her heart sounded like.  So sometime during the evening, Margie helped Jay record both of our daughters' heartbeats on their own recorders.  Norah's was easier to get than Aislynn's because we were getting Aislynn's from a hand held Doppler thing and not the big monitor.  Margie was patient and understood how important this was to us and stuck with it until we got a good strong recording of our brave girl's strong heart to have always.  Okay, now back to the story.]

Suddenly, there was activity and the room lights were turned on and there were people.  Dr. Meyer was standing by the sink and Margie was in there and he was saying that I had dilated more.  The decision he had reached with the doctors at Barnes was that if I progressed at all, it was time to deliver.  And it was time.  He said there was a woman in the OR then and that it would be about 45minutes.  Jay started calling our parents to tell them to hightail it to the hospital.  Meyer called Dr. Crews to assist him and was in and out of the room getting everything arranged for us.  I did keep having really painful contractions around being prepped for surgery (my first ever surgery, let me mention).  Anesthesiologist came in, different from that morning, (Dr. Sing, my memory provides for some unknown reason) and had me lift my head and open my mouth and then proceeded to scare me to death saying that if the spinal didn't take, he would have to put me completely out and what he would use to do that.  I panicked about that.  Being put completely out would mean that I could potentially miss Aislynn's whole life.  I would be unconscious while Aislynn was here and not have the chance to tell her how much her mother loves her and how proud of her I am.  And because I'm me, I blamed it on my weight; I know that being so heavy can make the spinal block not work.  I fretted about that while a nurse gave me yet another hospital bracelet (this one a just in case for any blood I may need to be given during surgery) and made me drink something so horrible tasting to prevent me from throwing up too badly during surgery.  My IVs were changed and I was pumped full of fluids.  Dr. Meyer came back in and, because he is a wonderful doctor, asked how I was feeling about everything.  After his understanding nod at my telling him that I was so scared because I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I told him about my fears regarding the spinal block not working.  His reply is one I don't think I could forget.  I didn't tell him I was worried about it because of my size, I just said I was worried but he knew why I was worried.  He said, "Destiny, I know you think you are very big but women heavier than you have babies here and have no problem with the spinal block."  There is some paraphrasing there, but I know he said that heavier women that me have spinal blocks.  This meant something to me, not only for what he said but for the matter of fact way he said it, kind of like I was being ridiculous for focusing on that.

My inner monologue kicked in one unforgettable moment while Margie was shaving what needed to be done for surgery and I was having contractions at the same time.  I kind of thought she should take note of that and maybe leave my pubic hair alone while I was being ripped in half.  Of course, now I see that with each progressing contraction she needed to hurry and not wait, but I wasn't terribly rational at that point.  There was a moment where Jay stepped into the bathroom to change into the scrubs that they had had ready for him since that morning.  He came out and the scrubs were way too big for him and he made some wonderfully, typical Jay comments about the hospital only having small and three-X for scrub sizes and telling a nurse that he had lost one of the shoe booties.  This was what I needed to distract me.  Then I had another contraction that was super bad and super long and I felt something move.  Like something move down inside me.  I told every nurse around me and was getting very panicked and the Margie was right in front of me leaning over me and told me that now with every contraction I need to concentrate on not pushing.  I may have kind of angrily told her that I wasn't pushing and it was just happening and she said calmly back that then when I had one I needed to look up as far as I could and pant.  Surprisingly to me, this did help with that pressure feeling that had come back.  Probably shouldn't have surprised me since Margie is a super-nurse but I was distressed at the time.  When Dr. Meyer came back to the room (in scrubs which scared me a bit and made it sink in a little more that I was having surgery in minutes) I told him about feeling, well, Aislynn actually, move down.  He calmly nodded and said that we shouldn't check and just kind of let her alone and just keep moving.  Inner monologue said this was insane and don't we have to know, but I know now that there was nothing that could have been done for it so he was perfectly right.  There were more people in and out and I had more contractions that were more frightening than ever and Dr. Meyer left one more time.

Then my bed was being moved and Jay was walking behind me and suddenly we were in another room that was super bright and Jay was stopping at the door and I had to look terrified.  Dr. Meyer was sitting down waiting wearing a surgical cap thing and mask hanging from his neck and gave me a kind of small smile.  I know my eyes were the size of dinner plates and I was close to hyperventilating.  My bed was raised and a nurse who I don't remember except that she had a nice voice told me that I was going to scoot myself over to the other bed and I could take my time.  It was so hard to move with the mag and laying in bed all day and having contractions but I got over there.  It was a tiny, skinny bed with some padding, which surprised me once it sunk in that I was on an operating table.  They had me sit up, which I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to do.  In fact, I asked Dr. Meyer while still in my hospital room what would happen if she came down so far that I wouldn't be able to sit up for the spinal block procedure and I think he just told me that we'd see what would happen.  I was able to sit up and a nice nurse, maybe the same one from before, stood in front of me.  Most everyone of you probably know how she had me lean forward on her holding a pillow.  I felt like I was going to fall and she did such a good job making me believe that she had me and I would not fall.  The needle for the numbing did hurt a bit but not as bad as they had warned me it would.  The most memorable thing about the spinal block was that just as they were starting to inject the meds, I had a sharp, painish, coldish feeling in my hip.  I was so distracted by the fact that the contraction I had been having was fading away that I forgot to mention my hip to them.  Instantly my toes started to tingle and they had me lay back.  Then I just waited.  This part seemed to last a while and my mind kind of wandered.  I thought about how wild it was that the lights look like the OR lights on TV.  I marveled at the feeling of ascending paralysis setting in to my legs.  I looked around for Jay and probably asked where he was.  Someone extended arms on the surgical table and I panicked that they were going to strap me down.  But they didn't and for that I am/was so thankful.  A nurse laid my arms where they wanted them and told me to keep them there.  I had commented to Dr. Meyer at my last appointment that one of my biggest fears about the c-section was being strapped to the table like a mental patient even if I knew why they did it.  He laughed then but it occurs to me now that his intervention may have been why I wasn't strapped down.

Then Jay was beside me, finally, and I teared up a bit because I knew this was really, really it.  They started poking my belly and asking me if I felt it and then they started.  It was only minutes before Dr. Meyer said with a happy voice, "Happy Birthday!"  and Aislynn Marie Heininger was born at 2:05am, October 23rd, 2012.  Jay looked up just in time to see her being lifted from me.  He said there was nothing more beautiful.  But I guess there was equal beauty two minutes later when Dr. Meyer said again with his happy voice, "Happy Birthday!" and Norah Hazel Heininger was born at 2:07am, October 23rd, 2012.  Jay got to see both of their births.  They were both taken by nurses over to warming beds and Jay went over to see his new daughters.  I remember looking over at them, just barely seeing their feet around the swarm of nurses.  I said to a nice nurse (Donna, my memory miraculously supplies, who was the anesthesia nurse) that I didn't know how to react and I didn't think I was reacting right.  She said I was fine and I could react however I wanted to.  I was surprised that I didn't cry but I really was feeling too much to emote much of anything.  I saw them using the bag valve mask on Aislynn but my strong girl only needed a few breaths before breathing on her own so her daddy could hold her and introduce her to mommy.

Aislynn and her time here deserves her own post so that is what I am going to do.  Stay tuned for that.

But during our time with Aislynn, I was in pain.  Like lots of pain.  There was some small pain with all the pressure when the girls were born but while he finished surgery and put me back together, I hurt.  It hurt so much more than I was ready for.  Dr. Meyer said later that he was aware I was in lots of pain just because of the contracting of my abdominal muscles and intestine but he didn't really know why.  The nurse Donna during surgery said that anything more they gave me for the pain could make me woozy and not remember everything and I couldn't risk that.  Then surgery was over and I was lifted via sheet back to my hospital bed and wheeled into recovery.

There is obviously so, so much more to this story but that is it for my bit of it.  This is the story of what I have been referring to as "that Monday".  That Monday that I went into preterm labor and spent one last day pregnant with both of my girls.  That Monday we looked forward to and dreaded and celebrated and feared.  And we made it.  We may have not felt ready but we made it anyways.

Woah, this is really happening Part 1

So finally, I am getting to post the first part of the story of the birth of my beautiful baby girls.  In our last episode, I was just over 30weeks pregnant and feeling surreal about it.  On Oct. 20th (and 32 weeks pregnant) some wonderful people gathered for my baby shower.  I will admit to feeling apprehensive about that day.  But it was really good, just a normal, regular baby shower with cute baby things and laughter.  We talked about both girls, Aislynn and Norah, but then there was no awkwardness or sadness at opening baby gifts for just Norah.  Aislynn was definitely present and celebrated and Norah was just as celebrated, just in a different way.  So thank you to those of you who were able to make it and thank you to those of you who were thinking of us.  It was so good to just feel like a normal, expectant mommy for that day.

Okay, now on to Monday morning.  (Grossness disclaimer:  I can't find a way to tell this story without the gory details so I'm going to tell them all.  I think I need to tell the whole thing just for my own sake.  So if you are squeamish you may want to find someone to read the post and then tell it to you while leaving out the bits that make you barf.  Thank you.)  4am saw me in the bathroom trying to decide if there was a problem or if I had just peed a little.  I woke Jay and we decided I would just call the doctor when their office opened.  At 5am I woke up to feeling some kind of strange pressure-ish sensation and feeling a small puddle where I was laying.  I got up slowly and went to the bathroom.  It is kind of embarrassing but I kind of thought maybe I just had to poop.  That was probably a bit of denial.  After a few minutes of trying to sit on the toilet without feeling like my innards were going to fall out, I panicked a bit and called for Jay.  And my voice had enough terror in it to wake him instantly.  After some discussion, I reached down to feel what that strange sensation was and I felt something there.  Like something that shouldn't have been there for at least 6 more weeks.  We decided that we just had to get to the hospital.  I dressed, even brushed my teeth, and off we went.  Just a bit into the drive my lower back started to hurt in pulsing waves of agony.  Even then I couldn't call them contractions without feeling a little silly or like I was just overreacting.  I couldn't sit still and they were happening one after the other.  There was never a longer ride to Carbondale in the history of the universe.

We pull up to the ER and Jay got a nurse to get me inside.  (At this point I must tell you that while my conscious brain was fully focused on the terror of having all this happen at only 32weeks and on how much this all hurt, I had this kind of running sub-conscious internal monologue that I will express here in italics.)  We stopped at the registration desk with me in a wheelchair and the lovely white-haired nurse trying to keep me calm.  Seriously, I have to check in?  I am obviously in some distress people!  They finally get that done and the nurse was happy that it was some man named Michael who would be coming from OB to get me because he would hurry.  Why do you employ people to transport in labor pregnant women to OB who would not hurry?  I do not remember the ride to OB.  I have no idea how we got there, we could have apparated like in Harry Potter and I would not know.  I do remember getting to the room and the wonderfully nice nurses having me stand up and put a gown on.  I actually asked if I needed to take my bra off, I guess I was still hoping this would stop and I could go home.  I do remember just dropping my pants and my slippers and kind of scooting them under the bed a bit.  This was a thought later that I just stripped naked in front of the pretty and skinny nurse like it was no big deal.  I guess this tells me how scared I really was.  There was a flurry of activity and Jay asked if I wanted him to call my mom, I did and I even told him to call his mom, too.  Nurses were everywhere.  I heard someone ask if Dr. Meyer (my wonderful doc) was still here of if he went home.  Someone may have taken my blood pressure and drawn some blood and I distinctly remember a nurse (the same one I stripped for, actually) apologizing for blowing the IV she was trying to start.  I may have remarked that the IV sticks were distracting me from the fast coming and super painful back contractions I was having.  There was another pair of nurses wrapping me in elastic bands to attach monitors to my belly, three of them.  Then there was a grey haired man with a grey beard in green scrubs and a mask hanging from his neck standing beside me asking me if I was allergic to anything and asking me to open my mouth and lift my head.  The nice nurse trying to start my IV was still blowing veins so he kind of volunteered to start one.  I use "volunteered" loosely; he was kind of gruff and kind of started ordering them to get him the stuff he needed to start the IV in my left forearm.  Sometime around this point I may have realized that he was from anesthesia and this was getting very real.  I did look around for Jay periodically and could usually see him standing somewhere near the back of the room with his arms crossed or sometimes one hand over him mouth looking very serious and a bit freaked out.  Suddenly Dr. Meyer was standing at the foot of my bed also looking serious and talking to nurses about dilation and contractions and monitors.  A nurse spoke with him and he checked to see if I was dilated.  He said four, maybe.  The maybe bit threw me but I was mostly focused on how bad being checked hurt!  That hurt almost as bad as the contractions!  He moved away at one point to speak to another man in scrubs with very long grey hair in a ponytail and then I needed to throw up.  I had been a little nauseous from the terror and pain but this was beyond the point of no return and I was going to throw up.  The nurses didn't seem as worried about it as I was at I kept trying to tell them I didn't want to throw up.  They told me if I had to just do it and handed me one of those nifty round throw up bags.  At the first gag, I felt this strange sensation "down there" and some pressure and then a huge rush of warm fluid.  With each consecutive gag, I flooded the bed; hearing it splattering on the floor and seeing the nurses jump back was pretty embarrassing, I must say.  It occurred to me at that point that my water had broke.  A nurse yelled that they had meconium and thus started the frantic scramble to mop up so that no one fell and try to let me sit on some dry sheets and bed pads.

Then the pains stopped.  No more contractions.  Things seemed to slow down.  Ultrasound got there and started to try to check to see which baby's bag had broken or both.  Both was the answer.  The tech took a picture of each baby for me. Some time around there I realized that my clothes were still under the bed and now soaked with amniotic fluid.  Dr. Meyer came back in and remarked on how different the scene was now.  20 minutes ago I looked ready to deliver and now not so much.  He decided to pump me full of antibiotics because of my water breaking, he reassured us that the girls would be fine with just what little fluid was left, and gave me a shot of steroids to boost their lung development.  He also started me on magnesium sulfate to stop my contractions or at least slow them down.  Dr. Meyer said best case scenario I would make it till Wednesday because the steroids work do their best work in the first 48 hours.  But he was very honest with us and said he doubted very much I would still be pregnant on Wednesday.  He went ahead and booked an OR for a Wednesday c-section (c-section because Aislynn was still baby A and head down and it was best for both girls to be born that way).  He told me to rest as best I could and that the nurses would call him the moment he was needed.  He said he had talked to both Dr. Bishop, another OB-Gyn in his practice (and the grey long-haired ponytail man) and the doctors at Barnes and everyone agreed that what he was planning was best for all of us.

And so the waiting started on what was both a very long Monday and the shortest day of my life.  I would like to say that the nurses at Carbondale Memorial in the Labor and Delivery side of OB did a wonderful job taking care of us.  They were efficient and moved extremely fast to get things done to make sure we were safe while not making us panic and keeping me calm.  They helped me deal with the pain of each contraction when they were bad.  They kept me smiling between them to make me relax.  They were kind and wonderful and the best examples of L&D nurses in the whole world.      Part 2 with the rest of that wild day to follow.  :)