I love a birth story. The miracle of creating, nurturing & delivering life into the world is very beautiful to me. I am one of those natural birth types. I have had three births of my own, each a unique & amazing experience. This is the story of my daughters’ birth.
The back story:
I discovered I was carrying twins very early in my pregnancy. I was shocked & terrified by the news. My husband was over the moon.
I did not know the sex of my twins until they were born. It was no secret that I was hoping for a girl.
I had an uneventful pregnancy. I expected to carry full term & to have a natural birth. I was wrong.
June 2nd, 2007. Dustin, Silas & I were headed out to attend my sister’s graduation party. Paul planned to work around the house. He was finishing up work on the kids’ rooms, readying them for our new carpet to be installed the following week. We would make our belly cast later that evening when I got home. Wouldn’t it be fun to compare my twin belly to my Silas belly?
I was under strict instructions from my parents to keep the babies inside until after my sister’s party, so as not to ruin the festivities. I had no worries. I was only 36 weeks. We spent the day eating & drinking & making merry. I remember noticing how grown Dustin was looking lately, a real teenager. I took Silas into the pool with me, held him in my arms, still just a baby at 15 months. I remember how fabulous the pool felt, my giant belly weightless in the water. Such blessed relief from the pressure on my back & hips. Heaven.
As the sun began to set on that lovely day, I sat chatting with my mom & cousin. I reached for my green tea & felt the pop. I knew that this pregnancy was over. But it was too soon. I was not ready. I said, “Oh no, my water broke. We don’t have our carpet yet!!” I flooded the chair as I stood up. The pressure was immediate, very low, too low. I am unsure now if the urgency I felt was actually due to the pressure or the knowledge that my baby A had been breech for some time. I felt as if I should go to the hospital, now.
I left my boys behind with their granddad & headed out with my mom & Vanessa. We were all buzzing nervous excitement. The contractions began in the car. I called Paul. “Paul, my water broke. Meet me at the hospital. Yes, I know we haven’t made the belly cast. I’m sorry, there is no more time.”
I waddled into the hospital, leaking leaking all the way. Answered the many questions & waited in the little room for the ultrasound. The ultrasound that would decide my birth. Has baby A turned? The doctor took only a moment, a glance, & said, “Baby A is breech & baby B is transverse. It’s a c-section.” C-section. My heart broke. I tried not to cry.
The preparations were hurried & I was suddenly in an operating room, flat on my back. Paul came in & held my hand. I was afraid. I knew how to give birth. I did not know how to do this. Everything was happening so quickly & everyone was so quiet. I tried to find some beauty in the moment, but all was cold & harsh & silent.
I was shocked that I could feel the surgery. I could feel the pressure of their hands. I could feel them inside of me. Moments later, Paul’s eyes lit & he turned to me, a beautiful smile. “Its a girl.” How wonderful. A daughter. I said, “Its Piper. Is she okay?” They told me she was fine & brought her over for a glance. She squawked a bit & I thought She’s so very tiny.
Most births end there, but this one continued on. An eternity passed (two minutes), the doctors pushed & tugged & I could feel everything. Paul’s face telling all, surprise, joy, pride, as he turned to me once again. He said thru the smile, “It’s another girl.” Didn’t expect that. Two girls. “Esther. She is Esther. Are they both okay?” Yes, they were both okay. Again, they allowed me a glance & she was gone. I lay shivering on my back. I could hear them crying across the room, ten feet away, a hundred miles away. I should be holding them. This is all wrong.
My memory of the next hour is vague. Time crept by. After the surgery, they took me in one direction & my daughters in another. I sent Paul with the babies, “Stay with them, Paul, don’t leave them.”
At long last, my girls were returned to me, bundled & fast asleep…their birth washed from them. I held them close & breathed them in & examined them from head to toe & nursed them, one after the other….& finally everything was perfect.
We spent the next few days getting to know one another. I marveled at how alike they looked…almost identical! I worried over how skinny they were. I fell in love with Piper. I fell in love with Esther.
Soon after, we came home…& a great adventure began.