I really can't believe that it was 8 years ago that these sweet little girls came into the world. In so many ways it felt like we knew them before they were born, that we waited for these exact little beings to join our family. When the girls come, we would always say. Nothing was the same, everything we spoke about or imagined was no longer for only us.
I'll always remember that morning. I was only 35 weeks along, and I was woken up by a phone call from my doctor. She wanted me to come in for some repeat blood work, and although it may be nothing she had said, we should bring all of our baby supplies just in case. I think I was in a bit of shock, because I asked her if I could come later and I remember that she had said no, to come after breakfast. To just come.
Greg was so excited, and I remember this because I was simultaneously annoyed and relieved. He bounced around, gathering everything and grinning the whole time. I didn't quite feel the same, 35 weeks was not in my plan and it felt too early.
Once we arrived at the hospital, it was a waiting game. I felt overwhelmed and blind-sided. I was told not to eat, but at some point I grabbed an apple and ate it anyway. It was as if I wanted to slow down the process that was happening outside of me. I remember the doctor coming back in and saying, today is the day. This was not how I had envisioned the day of giving birth. I hadn't imagined that my body would send up the red flag so quickly, forcing a surgery as our only option.
I think I had given up my perfect birth by then. It became clear that things weren't going in the right direction a couple weeks earlier, as my blood pressure continued to rise quickly. Even earlier than that, one of the girls had decided to sit upright in my sacrum and to stay that way. At that point, a C-section began to look like the most likely option unless things took a drastic turn.
Because of the apple that I ate, I didn't actually give birth until nearly 12 hours later. It was stressful and scary, even with a calm Doula. I didn't get to experience my body in labor, saying that it was ready - perhaps helping my entire being to prepare for the experience ahead of me. It was a tumultuous experience of intervention, confusion, and bright lights that felt very unnatural. I felt uncentered and ungrounded in the unknown, truly putting my faith in something I couldn't feel or touch, living something I had tried so hard to avoid at all costs.
Even as I write about this today, I know that there are so many things that I have yet to heal from in our birth story. I've had to come to terms with the fact that I felt like I had been robbed of the chance to give birth naturally. I held myself to such high expectations of how I wanted everything to be, that there was little room for a new story. But this was our birth story, and I know it was right because I will never forget when I first heard Lucia cry and saw her perfect little face. I knew at that moment that I was exactly where I should be. I'm not sure that I truly believed that there would be a baby, until I saw her and all of her little toes, fingers, and eyes. Once I also saw Emma, I thought my heart would explode. I remember that I was having a reaction to a medication, shaking badly, and had lost a lot of blood - but I don't ever remember a happier moment, not before or since.
There were a lot of things that were not in my plan these last 8 years. I wish I could say that from that point on I learned that our story was enough and life was easier because I fully accepted this, but that isn't entirely true. I know there is a part of me that still grieves for that loss. I can say that I will never forget those first days, weeks, and months when the girls finally came. I know my heart swelled up quite a bit, becoming more vulnerable to everything around it since that day. I know that I still can't go into a hospital without tearing up from the overwhelming emotion that I still feel, the gratitude from the joy that I was so blessed to experience.
Every year, it feels further away - but I know that it is still an important story in our lives. I want to remember this story every year, I want to remember it in the midst of a world of mothering where there are so many stories, so many ways to just be. For me, this story is about acceptance and gratitude, and about how that changes over time. And about joy, absolute and complete joy, in the midst of the most unpredictable moments of life.
The girls were born healthy, at around five and a half pounds each. They both had only a touch of jaundice, which resolved on it's own. However, I did have to return to the hospital after going home because things were not resolving on their own. After a few more days of much welcomed nurse baby care, medication, and rest, we were all finally able to go home again. And so we began the next chapter in our lives.
