Week 28 ~ Hospital Stay

What seemed like a normal visit to get an ultrasound, quickly turned into the scariest moment thus far in the pregnancy. We had a Friday afternoon appointment at Dr Gerbaziack's office for a 3D/4D ultrasound. The ultrasound itself was one of the best yet. We had my favorite tech, Connie, and got some amazing pictures of the girls. Gracelin even decided to show her face for us for a couple minutes. :) Besides getting the fun pics, Dr Medchill had also scheduled my cervix to be measured since I'd been having so many Braxton Hicks contractions, and because Gracelin was positioned so low. I've had this done before, and this time they were taking a really long time, several minutes worth of just watching (don't ask me what because I couldn't tell!) Connie told us something about how the cervix is a muscle and she was watching how it was reacting, moving, or something along those lines.

We eventually finish getting all the measurements and pictures needed but this time we were asked to wait in the room while Connie talked to Dr Gerbaziack, to make sure he had all the measurements he needed. This was obviously strange and unsettling. A few minutes go by and she pops her head in the room and tells us it will be just a minute because Dr Gerbaziack is on the phone with Dr Medchill. I knew this wasn't good. See, Dr Medchill has always told us if Dr Gerbaziack finds anything concerning he will call Dr Medchill right away. This was a bit more than right away though, we couldn't even leave the room! Again, another few minutes pass and another gal comes in and tells us Dr Gerbaziack wants to talk to us in his office.

Aside from the uncertainty of what was wrong, I also felt like I was in some sort of trouble on my way to the principle's office - which is exactly what his office looked like. The Dr introduces himself to us, as we've only seen the ultrasound techs previously, then proceeds to review my history there at his office. He eventually goes on to tell me he was asked by Dr Medchill to talk to me, and how they both agreed certain actions needed to be taken. He explained how from my visit 3 weeks prior, my cervix had shortened by 1/2 it's length. After this things began to really become a blur because I became so scared. He went on to talk about how dangerous this was at this point in the pregnancy, as I was starting pre-term labor. He further explained how both doctors wanted me to go straight to the hospital to start a series of steroids for the girls development which would take 48 hours, and other medications to try and prevent me from continuing into labor. He pointed out the wheelchair he had waiting in his office and asked if we'd let them take me over right then.

Incredibly scared, I of course told him I would. Next thing I know there is a nurse wheeling me across the way into the hospital and checking me in as a direct admit into the Perinatal High Risk unit. I remember sitting there at the check in desk, trying to keep from loosing it. I was only able to keep up with that for a short while though. As soon as I got to my room the nurse told me to go into the restroom and change. As soon as the door was shut I was a mess! I kept my hand over my mouth to try and quiet the gasping and wailing, but I apparently didn't do a good enough job since I then heard the nurse ask Kenny if I was alright. I could hear him explain to hear that I was just scared. Since the cat was out of the bag, I just gave myself a couple minutes to let it out and be afraid. I then changed as asked and made my way back into the room.

No time was wasted, the nurse got straight to work. Vitals were taken, blood was drawn, IV inserted, pulse ox monitor tapped on, and 3 monitors were strapped across my belly - 1 for each of the girls, along with 1 for me and the contractions. Shortly after, I was administered an incredibly painful shot of steroids in the tush. This was the first in the series. I would be getting the 2nd one 24 hours later, and needed to wait an additional 24 hours after that for them to have the full effect on the girls. This became Goal #1: Keep the girls in the oven for 48 hours, which was 5P Sunday evening. That shot was followed by an IV of anti-nausea medicine and a bullus of Magnesium, which was to help stop the contractions as it was a major muscle relaxer. The Mg instantly made me incredibly hot from the core out, and was very uncomfortable to say the least. Once the bolus was finished, I was set up with a slow drip of the Mg along with some precautionary antibiotics.

We had a visit from a Neonatalogist from the NICU, who explained what it would be like for the girls right now should they be born. She gave a lot of stats and info, which was surprisingly more comforting than it was terrifying. One fact that really stood out was how every 1 day they stay in the womb, is 3 days less they would stay in the NICU. This makes every single day moving forward a success and reason to celebrate!  And aside from all the health risk stuff, I liked what she had to say about the actual NICU. She explained how the mother is always welcome 24/7. And with twins, should 1 get discharged sooner than the other, they too were welcome back to visit. It was the little things like this that were encouraging.

Things seemed to go relatively alright for a little while, but here's where it starts to get really fuzzy. From what I remember, I was given a couple other different types of medicines to help prevent the contractions as the Mg wasn't working well enough. These were administered in a variety of ways, some of which I don't want to remember but unfortunately do. Next thing I remember, was crying out that the contractions were hurting, "They hurt! They hurt!" There seemed to be a lot of commotion, or maybe it was all in my head, and I was given morphine both with a shot in the tush and an IV push. I was incredibly relieved when this started working. Finally, everything calmed down and seemed to resume some normalcy - well, as normal as it could be.

I don't really recall the exact order of events this evening. I know at some point, either just before or after the painful contraction episode, I was checked out by a couple doctors. We thought they told us I was dilated 1-2, but later found it was 1.2. They also did some other testing, don't remember what for, just remember them saying something about cultures...

I do remember later in the evening the nurse being concerned I may be leaking fluid. We kept an eye on it, and then I was convinced she was right and I must be leaking. Fear over took me once more as I waited to be checked out by the doctors again. They confirmed I was not leaking and the fluids in fact looked great. This was quite a relief!

The remainder of the evening things stayed fairly calm. I recall having to get morphine again, for something, though I don't remember what for. Throughout the night and morning the nurse would come check on me and the girls quite frequently, taking vitals and such. She also hooked me up to oxygen (that really uncomfortable tubing you have to keep in your nose) telling me I wasn't getting enough to the girls. Needless to say, I didn't sleep at all this evening.

The next day (Saturday) seemed pretty calm too. The Mg was starting to get to me though. My body became incredibly heavy and it became increasingly hard to try to move. I began having a hard time opening my eyes and when I did I would see 2 (at least) of everything and it was incredibly blurry. Eating was also becoming increasingly difficult. Chewing seemed to take a ton of energy and swallowing was an uncomfortable challenge. The heat was increasingly unbearable through my core, but then isolated areas were by far worse. Often times, it was my face that felt like the skin was literally being burned off. It felt blistered and hurt to move any part of it. This feeling would traveling to different places too, frequently down my neck and back. I also began to swell, what seemed to be everywhere. At some point, they strapped a contraption to my feet that would squeeze & release over and over again, to try and prevent blood clots due to the inactivity and swelling.

At some point I had to get another compete 3D/4D ultrasound, from someone who didn't know what they were doing and didn't speak English. If that wasn't annoying enough, when she came into my room she complained it was too cold and made the nurse turn the A/C down. I don't know how the ultrasound tech's comfort level took precedence over patient care, but I was not at all amused by the increase of heat in my room. In fact, I quickly started feeling incredibly sick and needed her to stop. I felt nauseous, like I was going to pass out, and an unexplainable all over horrible feeling. I was then able to lay on my side and I think get a drink, which did seem to help. The ultrasound continued for what seemed to be an eternity. She kept trying over and over to get certain images she simply wasn't going to get. Example, she was tyring to get Gracelin's face. I explained to her that she has almost always had it hidden and no one is able to get it - as in, hint hint, give up already! My patience quickly diminished as she continued to prod and jab into me without any concern. This went on for over an hour and a half! This was the first (and I'm sure only) ultrasound where I wasn't watching the screen and actually trying to tune the entire thing out. 

In the evening I was given the 2nd steroid shot, but to my surprise it didn't hurt nearly as much - likely due to all the muscle relaxers and head trip I was on from the Mg. Though incredibly exhausted, I still couldn't sleep. I had a bit of a mental breakdown and even at 26 years old and about to give birth to 2 children, I cried out for my mommy - who was conveniently just down the hall. She talked me down and helped me feel a bit better, giving me the pep talk I needed. The nurses also gave me an Ambian to help me sleep, but it didn't seem to do much. After a couple more hours I was able to sleep a smidge.

The highlight of the next day (Sunday), Goal #1 met! We had made it 48 hours and the girls would not be in a much safer state if they were to come now. Because I was alone for this momentous occasion, I excitedly took a picture of the clock as it struck 5P to share with whoever I could later on.

I don't really remember what else really happened during this day. The Mg had taken over my body and mind, so it is literally a blur. I do remember this evening however, because it was horrible. This was the first night Kenny had to work. Since he was just working downstairs from where I was staying and could be at my room in a matter of minutes, it seemed fine. Well, of course this is the night I would get a horrible nurse AND doctor. As always, after using the restroom, the nurse needed to adjust the fetal monitors since they were no longer tracking the girls. She told me to get comfortable and then she'd go to work. Only problem was, I couldn't get comfortable and didn't have a clue on how to either. Kenny had been doing this for me. I would lay down and he knew just where to put the pillows and such. I asked the nurse for her help but she would just ask me what I wanted her to do. I of course am exhausted, whacked out on the meds, in pain/discomfort from the girls, and again have another embarrassing breakdown.

While this is going on, I was having a hard time breathing through my nose, so the nurse ordered a saline nose spray. They kept telling me I needed to be on the oxygen because it was too low, but I kept explaining how I wasn't able to breath through my nose at all. Eventually the spray came in but I was too weak to spray the bottle. When I said this, the nurse did nothing. Thankfully, my mom stepped in and helped while the now 2 nurses just watched. My poor mom also helped me blow my nose a million times and disposed of the tissues, again while the 2 nurses just watched. This was both incredibly annoying and embarrassing, not to mention how bad I felt for my poor mom who was taking care of me.

Me & Mom

I was also having a reoccurring pain in my chest, I believe it was my diaphragm. The nurse had a doctor come and see me. She asked me to describe the pain for her, but I was unable to do so successfully or at least with enough detail for that doctor. She told me she really couldn't help me if I couldn't tell her what I was feeling. I understood this, but I really feel she went about this totally wrong. She had a bit of an attitude and didn't seem to really want to help me, but rather just shut me up. I'm not a doctor. I don't know what pains are typical in these situations, but she does. I didn't understand why she couldn't have tried to help me figure it out, especially when I mentioned how I was having a hard time explaining and figuring it out due to the way the Mg was making me feel. But instead of helping, she just let it be and pretty much gave me and the nurse a look that screamed "is this patient stupid or what." Already having had a breakdown, I just shut down. My mom was able to help get me into a position in the bed that was tolerable, and I was done. My plan at that point was to just lay there very still (so I didn't move the fetal monitors) and to not say another word. But this is just when Kenny called to check on me. Next thing you know, he's in my room and rearranges the bed so I could get as comfortable as possible. He then raced back to work and promised to check in soon.

A short while later, my hero arrives once more telling us he was back for the night. Turns out once his supervisor knew what was going on, she took him off his shift and told him there was no option, he needed to go be with me. Though I felt really guilty this happened, I was also incredibly thankful. Mom and I filled Kenny in on what had happened, and I explained how the nurse didn't like me. Next thing you know, I have a new nurse checking on me. When she came back a 2nd time, she ended up updating the whiteboard and explained she had taken over for the other nurse.  I knew the other nurse didn't like me!! At any rate, she was pleasant however, she also felt the need to wake me up every 1-2 hours to take vitals and such throughout the entire night.

Me & Aunt Maryan ~ Could hardly open my eyes

Monday morning comes, and I am out of energy and my spirits were really low. Also throughout the night I began having a much harder time breathing and seemed to now have a cough. The nurse came in and checked my vitals and such and then laid down the law. She rattled off the highlights of my visit thus far, pointing out all the things that had been done or not done which were detrimental to my health. She gave me the game plan for the day and told me she would get me feeling better. She had been very straight forward, assertive and yet totally turned my spirits around lifted me up. And the best news of all, she got the ok from my doctor to get me off of the Mg!

This was certainly no easy day though. It turned out I had developed fluid on my lungs, which is apparently a common side effect of the all medications I was on + the bed-rest. Because of this, she had me start using a Spurometer. (This was a little gadget I had to breath into to fully expand my lungs, done x10 each hour.) I also had to go get a chest x-ray. This turned out to be an incredible highlight since I was getting out of my room for the very 1st time. The trip was short lived, but it was glorious! I also had to start taking Lasix, through IV and/or orally, which was a diuretic that was supposed to help draw the fluid out.

Kenny had Dad & Debra cheer me on while doing my Spurometer exercise

She also let me take a shower, and with Kenny's help it ended up a success. That was the first time I was able to get off all the monitors and tubes and such. I actually started to feel human again! And when I was done with my shower she had replaced my gown and bed linens with hypoallergenic ones, since I'd been having some weird skin irritation that we couldn't figure out the cause of. It doesn't stop there either... She ordered a blow up mattress for my bed too. Those beds were extremely uncomfortable and I was getting swollen and bed sores from them. This was like a huge luxury at this point. And then, she got a humidifier for my oxygen tubing. This kept the air moist so it didn't dry out my nose any more than it already had - which come to find out was the contributing factor of my stuffed up and bloody nose. Italso had a nice calmly babbling brook soud which I loved. Lastly, she ordered me a heating pad for my back which I was going to be able to use so I could try to get some sleep.

This nurse was an angel to me, certainly God's doing. She was everything I needed and more. And I really was starting to feel better. As the Mg wore of, I was regaining more movement, was starting to see normally again, the heat was slowly decreasing, and mentally I was in a much better place. I told the nurse, Michelle Davis, as many times as I could how happy and thankful I was that she came to work today and how much I appreciated her. As her shift came to an end, we begged her to come back and be my nurse again tomorrow. In which she told us how this was likely to be the case since she was working and they usually get the same patients if they are still there. (I was surprised by this though since I had yet to see a nurse more than x1.)


This evening I got another great nurse, Kathrine. She had a lot of similar qualities to Michelle, and again I felt well taken care of. She also convinced me to take Ambian again, this time two, in hopes of finally getting some good rest. I think it was a combination of a lot of different things, but that night I slept amazingly! And the next morning (Tuesday) Michelle came back!


Feeling human! I also thought I'd be delivering the girls this day.



We still worked on the fluid in my lungs, oxygen levels and then the tachycardia (heart rate too high) that had crept back with avengeance. (I was having the same issues I had earlier in the pregnancy, which landed me in the OB Triage there. At that time they performed a bunch of tests and concluded everything seemed to be fine. I did have an increased white blood cell count so they said I was fighting off something like a virus. I was also anemic. So after being on Iron pills x2 a day, working on my stress levels and resting, things become pretty normal again after about a week or so.)

They did some more tests, mainly blood work, and decided to just keep an eye on it. The blood work while I was at the hospital was consistent, I kept having a very high white blood cell count. Not sure what the cause was, it did remain a point of concern since they didn't know if it was an infection of some sort that was effecting the girls. (They never did figure out what it was from, but in the end it didn't seem to be posing any threat.) They also checked my Thyroid, thinking it could be causing the tachycardia. But everything seemed to come back well enough for no additional action to be taken other than being removed from all medications to stop the contractions. My doctors (still Medchill and Gerbaziack) explained how my body simply wasn't handling the medicines well so they could no longer do anything to prevent labor should it start to come again.

The evening went well again, with Katherine once more. :) We just kept working on getting the fluids off my lungs, which seemed to slowly be getting better.

Wednesday morning Michelle was back again and discovered the fluid was finally gone. At this point my stats were back to normal and I was able to stay off the oxygen. Now that I was doing well and because there was no stopping labor anymore, I was down graded out of the High Risk unit.

New room. Enjoying my Jamba drink & pretzel :)

I was sent around the corner and pretty much left completely alone. The nurse checked on me about x1 the entire night. The next morning (Thursday) Dr Medchill decided I would be able to go home as long as my cervix hadn't shortened any more, since it could mean possible infection if it had. It was music to my ears when the measurements came back and things were stable. I was released!

Getting outside for the first time in a week was incredible. Being home was amazing. Then the next day getting to see my dogs again, awesome. We were so very thankful we had made it as long as we did at this point, and things seemed to be going well. I mean, we went from being told we wouldn't be leaving the hospital until the girls were delivered, to getting to go home and potentially carry them "full term."  What an amazing journey God has taken us on. Here's hoping for many many more days of being pregnant!

An extra special Thank You! to all of our family and friends who prayed, thought of, visited, and helped us through this very challenging and scary time. A quick personal thank you: To my husband Kenny who undoubtibly is the most amazing human God ever created. There's no way I could have survived this time without you! You are my world and already the best daddy ever! To my mom who wouldn't leave the hospital unless it was to do something for Kenny or I. Your love and support was truly one only a mother could give. To my Aunt Maryan, who stayed by my mom's side through pretty much the entire stay. To Jackie and Johnny for taking great care of our furry babbies. To my Grandma and Grandpa for driving all the way to the hosptial just to pray over me and the girls. To every other single person who was a part of this journey. We did request to keep visitors to a minimum so I could rest as much as possible, and truly appreciate your desire to be there and restraint to stay away. We are so loved and blessed. Again, thank you all!