Matt and I met my sophomore year in college. He lived in the suite next door to mine and I fell instantly in love with the quiet, guitar playing, amazing guy he was. He instantly put me on the "five year plan", telling me that he didn't want to get married and he certainly didn't want to have kids. I always knew better. Seven years later, we were married. I was pregnant four months after our wedding.
Matt was excited. I was beyond in love with our baby. We were going to tell our parents on Christmas Day. We were planning on having our family over for dinner and Matt had just redone the fireplace mantle. What a better way to tell our family than to hang three stockings on our new mantle? We went out and bought a "Baby's First Christmas" stocking. The next day I had a miscarriage. I was only 5 weeks 3 days along, but in my mind I was already a mommy. I had been living and dreaming that baby for the week and 3 days I knew about him. We had to "untell" our family before they even knew we were expecting. Most of the older women in my life began to share their miscarriage stories. Many people convinced me that "everything happens for a reason" and "at least you can get pregnant". How could there possibly be a reason? My heart was broken.
A month later, I was pregnant again. Cautiously, we entered into another pregnancy. Again, I fell head over heals in love with the idea I was going to be a mommy; we were going to be a family. Again, at 5 weeks and 3 days I had a miscarriage. Again, I heard there had to be a reason. In my mind, I was broken. Sure, I could get pregnant but I could not make it past 5 weeks and 3 days. My wonderful OB sent us for genetic testing to rule out any issues that would be preventing me from being able to carry a baby to term. I, again, went for rhogam shots in my butt because I was RH negative. Matt and I decided we were going to put this whole baby thing on hold. Save our money, maybe travel. We are young, we have a long road ahead of us. We were too stressed out and emotionally exhausted to go through that again. That was January.
Who was I kidding...travel? I've wanted to be a mommy my entire life.
In the beginning of May I wasn't feeling well. I knew I had felt this way before, I had a suspicious feeling that maybe I was again pregnant. I went out and bought tests. The tests were positive. I took one every morning for a week just to watch those little pink lines get darker. I made it past 5 weeks 3 days, I remember everything about that day. I felt nauseous, exhausted, crabby...totally wonderful! I immediately called my dr. who had me come to her office that day for an ultrasound. There was nothing there. She told me not to worry. I was super early and it was possible nothing would show up yet. She took my levels in case. She sent me to the hospital for a more reliable ultrasound at 6 1/2 weeks. For some unknown reason, they wouldn't let Matt come in to the ultrasound with me. I was a nervous wreck. I just knew, for the third time, I wasn't pregnant. The tech asked me several times if I had my dates right, she wasn't seeing anything. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that my dates were right. She asked me how many positive pregnancy tests I had. She then changed the type of ultrasound she was using. I looked over at the screen and could have sworn that I saw two little white blobs. She quickly turned the screen away and told me she needed to get another tech to help with the resolution on the machine. The other tech came in and started the ultrasound, she said "this is easy, you just click here on Baby A". Baby A!! I yelled out to them. The second tech turned to the first and said, "You haven't told her yet?". Tell me what?? If there's an A, there has to be at least a B! They both looked at me and said, "Congratulations Mom, you are having twins". I burst into tears and asked them to get Matt. The first thing he said when I told him was, "Cool, one for each of us".
My pregnancy went really well, as well as it could for multiples. I was followed by a perinatologist because at the beginning they thought my boys were momo twins. Luckily, we found the membrane at 14 weeks. They grew and developed right on schedule. I went on modified bedrest at 31 weeks for preterm labor.
We went in for our last appt with the peri on December 11th, I was just about 35 weeks. I knew something was wrong when the tech went to get our Dr. I had had enough ultrasounds at that point to know that she was acting suspicious. The Dr came in and looked at the boys. There was a significant drop in Baby B's growth. The Dr. told us that we needed to have the boys that week. The first thing out of my mouth was that I couldn't have the babies now because I had so much laundry to do. Our C-Section was scheduled for that Thursday, December 13th.
On December 13th, my two little monkeys came into this world. Their weights were not as far off as they had predicted with the ultrasound. William Ryan was born weighing 4 pounds 1 oz and Nathan Paul was 3 pounds 13 ozs. Both were 16 inches long. They spent a total of 12 days in the NICU. It was one of the hardest experiences of my life, having my babies hooked up to monitors and being cared for by the NICU nurses (who were wonderful). They didn't ever need any intervention, they were just in there because they were so little.
They came home on Christmas Eve. We spent that night just the four of us at home. I woke up on Christmas Morning in my bed with my wonderful husband and my two beautiful tiny babies in bed with me and I knew that Santa had really come. What a Christmas Miracle.
I have not had a good night sleep in at least 253 days (but who's counting?), have Chicka Chicka, Boom Boom playing on repeat in my brain, and am lucky if I take 5 showers in a given week...I would not trade it for the world and I am happier than I have ever been. Everything we went through happened for a reason...my beautiful identical twin boys.