During one particular visit with my Rheumatologist, early in my pregnancy, she went through all the scenarios that might occur and said to me, "If your kidneys begin to fail or you start having seizures, I will have to ask you to terminate your pregnancy in order to save you. Your safety is my priority." This statement stuck with me throughout my entire pregnancy and I did everything I could to try and keep myself healthy so that these terrifying possibilities did not become realities. In the process, though, I did not allow myself to emotionally connect with my babies - I was sincerely scared of loving them too much.
So, the day arrived and it was time to have a C-Section - I remember being nervous about the surgery. During the procedure, it was as if my senses were heightened because I couldn't move and my visual field was limited to my left and right side because of a sheet that blocked my body from my chest down. We had two teams of nurses that were poised and ready for each baby to be handed to them.
Baby A didn't come out crying - she was actually silent when she first arrived. These few seconds seemed like an eternity and I was terrified that something was wrong. Finally, her lungs filled with air and she began to scream accordingly. My son cried almost immediately and both were whisked away by the nurses so that they could check them, etc.
Because of my limited mobility and the fact that I was still technically in surgery, I had not had an opportunity to really see my babies yet. I yearned to hold them. Everything felt like a dream - the room seemed to slow down and I felt a heaviness in my chest. As the doctor was finishing, the nurses brought each baby over for me to look at...this moment was a literal blur. The one thing I remember most is that Brayden was so peaceful and quiet, his eyes were open and he was looking around the room. I thought to myself that this was more than likely a preview into his personality and I was grateful to have met him.
The room began to close around me.
They finally wheeled me into a recovery bay and I learned that during surgery my blood pressure dropped to an extremely low level - I had to remain flat on my back because if I tried to sit up, I most certainly would have lost consciousness. At that moment, I really didn't care, I just wanted to see and hold my babies.
I was in the hospital for a week because of the surgery and because I had twins. Both babies were healthy and neither required NICU care. I felt as though my initial job of keeping them in was finally over but I wasn't sure how to feel about them now. In the quiet moments at the hospital, I would stare at them and watch them breathe. I kept waiting for this overwhelming emotional connection but instead, I felt scared and uncertain. Where was the bond I had read so much about and what was wrong with me? Why didn't I feel the way I was supposed to?
The first six weeks at home were chaotic, to say the least. We were attempting to establish some sort of routine, sleep was nonexistent, I was trying to breastfeed/pump and supplement with formula, and family and friends were coming regularly for visits. I am sure that this scenario doesn't sound much different than any other family bringing home a newborn except we had TWO newborns, our feeding schedule was insane - we would get through a feeding with both and it was time to start again. In addition, my milk supply wasn't enough (even with round-the-clock pumping and alternating breastfeeding with each child), Brayden was having problems latching and Anniston was a Hoover vacuum - it was a horribly painful experience!
We were zombies and to make matters much worse, I developed Mastitis - an infection in my breast. I felt like I had the flu with body aches and a high fever. Since it was my second time developing the infection, my doctor explained that I had a choice to make...I could continue to try and breastfeed and pump or I could switch to a formula-only method. If I was to develop Mastitis again, he explained that he would have to surgically open the duct in my breast that was infected. There was no way I was ready for yet another surgery - especially since I was still recovering from my C-Section.
I felt like I was failing. I was disconnected, exhausted and overwhelmed...
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