The Birth - Part 1

Wow, what a whirlwind the last couple of weeks have been!

Last I blogged, I was 30 weeks and feeling about as good as could be expected. I hadn't been placed on bedrest yet, though I spent most of my days in my recliner, except when I ventured out to the living room to teach piano lessons. The babies looked good and comfy, and I was preparing myself for at least another month of pregnancy. I was quite confident that I would make it to 34 weeks at least.

Sorry for the blurry picture!

On Monday the 19th, I went in for my usual bio-physical profile appointment with my perinatologist. My friend Amanda had taken me to the appointment since my husband had to work and I was expecting that this appointment would be more of the same. I had also brought my son with me since he had had a traumatic first day of preschool and refused to leave my side. He was so excited to "see" the babies on the screen during the ultrasound. I was a day shy of 31 weeks.

We got through to the end of the appointment, and to my untrained eyes everything had looked good. But then my sonographer started a sentence with "Unfortunately...". Immediately I was transported back to week 14, the only other time my sonographer had started a sentence with that word, and then followed it with the heartbreaking news that Caden had a serious birth defect.  I nervously waited for the rest of her sentence, and she told me that Caden's blood flow was showing some unusual activity. I relaxed a little, knowing it could be serious but thinking that in the case it probably wasn't too bad since her face didn't show too much alarm. She left the room and I waited for the doctor to come in and tell me what he thought about it.

A few minutes later he came in, his demeanor obviously reserved,  and proceeded to explain to me what the blood flow problem was. I have to admit I don't remember much of the conversation or the details. I remember him likening the blood flow to switching a light switch on and off when it really should be staying on all the time. I remember my son getting restless and Amanda taking him out to get him a lollipop. I remember them coming back in and Amanda, upon seeing the look on my face, kneeling in front of me and holding my hand. I remember the doctor telling me I would be going to the hospital, most likely for the duration of the pregnancy. Everything else is a blur.

On the way back to the car I called my mom (my husband wasn't answering...his office is a black hole for wireless signals) and cried and cried. Then my husband called and I explained to him what was happening. I texted my students and told them lessons were cancelled. I cried to Amanda that I wasn't ready, the babies weren't ready. Then I cried that they would likely be born in August and have the peridot as their birthstone, when I had really been hoping to have some sapphires in my mothers' ring.

Amanda and I drove to pick our kids up from school and then came back to my house to get a bag together for me and the kids. My husband met us at home and Amanda took our kids to her house for the afternoon and a sleepover (seriously, every girl needs a friend like her).

My husband and I drove to the hospital and we were soon admitted to antepartum. Two wonderful men from our church, and personal friends, George and Scott, had met us shortly before we were admitted and joined me in the room to assist my husband in giving me a priesthood blessing, a very important part of my faith, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. They also provided some lighthearted and witty (hilarious, actually) banter that helped to greatly ease my anxiety. 

I was soon draped in the latest in hospital gown couture, and fitted with several monitors and elastic bands. One monitor tracked my contractions, which I was having every two minutes. That came as a surprise to me, as I had been dismissing my contractions as Braxton Hicks for the past two weeks. Most of the contractions I couldn't feel, but the ones I could feel were quite painful. They were especially bad on Monday night. 

The other monitors tracked the babies' heartbeats - it sounds a lot easier than it actually was. My babies are only the second set of triplets ever born in this hospital, and to my knowledge, the first set of triplets to be monitored in this way (known in single pregnancies as "non-stress tests"). I had to have several NSTs over the next 2 days, and each time the poor nurses would have to stand in awkward positions over my belly, holding the monitors over their intended baby, and try to get continuous readings of their heart activity. I think they had to have 10 or 20 minutes straight of monitoring, but it really took more like 45 minutes, because inevitably a baby would move and they would have to chase after it and start all over. I laid there as still as possible, afraid to move and mess something up.

Even when they weren't performing an NST, I had to keep the monitors on each baby, though they did finally give up on trying to keep a monitor on Asher since he was on the underside of my belly, thus very hard to get to. His readings were perfect so they weren't too worried about him. Monday through Wednesday morning was spent trying to keep the monitors in place, nurses running in at all hours when the flat monitors would finally give in to gravity and start sliding down my enormous and round belly. I had a brief respite from the restrictive bands and uncomfortable monitors on Tuesday when I had another ultrasound which showed no change in Caden's condition.

Early Wednesday morning, my nurse informed me that Caden's heart rate had dipped a few times during my contractions in the night. I remember thinking, "This could be the day", and waiting for daylight to come so that my doctor would come in and give me an update, since I figured he and my perinatologist would not want to take any more chances. Then I opened my iPad and saw an email that said it was President Thomas S. Monson's birthday and I thought, "What better birthday present than to have three future missionaries born on his birthday?"

At 8 AM my doctor came in and told me that he felt it would be safer for the babies on the outside, and told me "We are having these babies today!" I figured "today" meant "later this afternoon", but then he told me that I would be going to get prepped for surgery immediately.

I called my husbands' office phone. No answer. I called his cell phone. No answer. Finally, I called the front office and told the school secretary what was happening. She immediately sent one of the other secretaries running to find him while I waited on hold. Eventually she came back on and told me he was on his way. Apparently, he had stepped out of his classroom and had just gotten back when the secretary ran in and told him. He said he became very flustered and started stammering about where she could find the lesson plans for a substitute teacher, and the secretary basically stopped him and said "Go now. We will take care of everything." Luckily, he works only about ten minutes away from the hospital, so he was by my side shortly after I had been wheeled into the room where I would be prepped for the C-section.

Things like this always make me feel like I am caught up in a whirlwind. I was signing consents, meeting the nurses who would be assisting, talking to the anesthesiologist, getting IVs in, and drinking this horribly disgusting sour drink that was supposed to help me with...something...I can't remember what, but it was the nastiest thing I think I have ever tasted. We quickly snapped a pre-delivery picture, and afterward I realized I had forgotten to cover up my belly and there wasn't time to take a second one. So, if you don't enjoy looking at very pregnant bellies, please quickly skip to the next paragraph. I include this here despite my great personal embarrassment (I am a very modest person) only because I want to remember how we looked right before we met our three miracles. I had never seen myself from this angle during the pregnancy, and after the delivery, when I saw this picture for the first time, I was astounded at just how far away my belly was from my face. It looks like it's in a different time zone.

My doctor came in and announced that we had been delayed due to an emergency C-section. Most people would be annoyed at being bumped, but I was fine with it - it meant that I must not be in as much danger and that the babies would be fine a little while longer. It was actually comforting. My doctor had a portable ultrasound machine brought in so he could get one last look as to where the babies were at so he knew where to make the cut.  When he knew where the three babies were positioned, he pointed to each of them and asked me what their names would be. Then it was time to go into the operating room.