24

Yesterday was a milestone for me.  I reached the stage of this pregnancy at which I was admitted to the hospital three years ago while pregnant with the twins. 

24 weeks and 1 day. 

I doubt I’ll ever forget May 16, 2008.  Jim and I drove early that morning to the University of Connecticut Hospital in Farmington for a Level II Ultrasound to find out whether a small, benign “choroid plexus cyst” had resolved that had previously been spotted in one of our girls in the previous scan.  It was supposed to be our second and last trip to UConn for the benefit of their ultrasound facilities, as we were planning to deliver at a local hospital.  Little did I know that I wasn’t going to be home again for another two and a half months. 

It was a cool, rainy day and I remember lamenting that the weather that year hadn’t yet cooperated to let me wear many of the cute spring maternity clothes I had recently purchased.  Neither Jim nor I were very anxious about the impending appointment; we had been told that the cyst, even if it hadn’t resolved, was most likely harmless.  We were just looking forward to another peek at our daughters.   

It wasn’t until the end of the scan, after we were happily informed that the cyst was gone and the girls looked fine, that the ultrasound technician appeared somewhat concerned and asked us to wait to speak to the doctor.  Her behavior caused me some concern, but I figured I was just being paranoid.  Then the doctor came in, asked us a series of questions that seemed odd and inconsequential at the time.  He did his own evaluation, and then told us, matter of factly, that I was in labor.  I had had no idea.  Nothing would be the same again.   

I was rushed into the Labor and Delivery department where, upon examination, it was found that I was having frequent but painless contractions that were causing dilation.  If I remember correctly, I was about four or five cm dilated – halfway to delivery stage.  I was immediately started on a host of medications designed to halt labor, including magnesium sulfate or “mag.”  The mag was extremely powerful, making me too weak to move, think, or even see.  As a result, I don’t remember much about the next three days of treatment.  One of the only clear memories I have is of a neonatologist coming into my room and explaining to me that, given the early stage of my pregnancy (I was still only in my second trimester), and the girls’ relatively low weights (I think they were only about a pound each), they only had a 50/50 shot of surviving if I delivered then and there – which the doctors expected me to do.  If one or both did survive, they would likely suffer from disabilities, possibly profound ones.  But every day that the girls stayed inside, their rates of survival skyrocketed and their rates of potential disabilities plummeted.  Every day was vitally important. 

But it was out of my hands. 

Thankfully, it was in the Lord’s Hands.

I still can’t believe that He brought me into the best hospital in the state on the day that I went into active labor. 

I still can’t believe that He kept these girls safely inside of me for another ten weeks after I went into labor.

I still can’t believe that He allowed them to be born healthy and whole and beautiful. 

I still can’t believe that He has given me two and a half amazing years with my twin miracles.

And now I can’t believe that He has brought me so far with yet another miracle inside of me.

I don’t know how long He will allow me to keep this precious baby inside of me, or in my arms for that matter, but I am so thankful for every day.