First, this is a sad story, but I'd like to share it anyway. It helped shape the person I am today. And it might string a resonate note in your life. I know it has made me a better person.
My twin boys were premature by 3 months. A week or two earlier and their survival rate would have been closer to zero than what the doctor gave me at their birth, which was 95% (astounding!). They were 1.5 lbs each at birth. If you've never seen a preemie of 1.5 lbs, you don't ever want to. They don't look human. Instead, they look like little aliens: thin, pink skin, long lanky limbs, huge eyes on a large head. Just not right. Not pretty, not cute, you can't even touch them. Their preemie diapers come up to their underarms.
Of course cesarean and the reason was that one of them had a broken water sack. The longer they remained in the womb, every day, bought them more time, a better survival rate. I was on a muscle relaxant for 9 days before their lives were jeopardized by remaining inside; then they were removed. I was both relieved and scared to death. Over my whole pregnancy, I only gained 10 pounds. I never even got stretch marks. I felt jipped on the whole pregnancy experience.
First, the cesarean was the worst experience ever. I could literally feel them
tugging and pulling my uterus around. I wished they had knocked me out instead
of just a local. Second, when they pulled them out, one minute apart, the one
who had the broken water sack first, my husband was more interested in seeing
them than consoling me. I felt so alone. They didn't even show me; they just
whisked them out to the NICU.
I stayed in the hospital another 9 or 10 days after birth because I had developed a blood virus. Let me tell you, it was not fun. I had fevers, the chills, and no one to console me at night (when it was the worst). To top it all off, I had a breastfeeding nurse visiting me every few hours to be sure I was pumping -- hell, I was so sick, I fkn couldn’t! But she kept badgering! I felt like such a failure once I finally realized I could not harvest any breast milk. Of course, I cried.
Back to the story of my redhead. About 2 days after birth, he lost circulation in his left leg, and it turned purple and was pulled up towards the body. It looked broken, and very wrong. But somehow the circulation returned and it regained regular skin color, although it still looked broken and bent funny. Then, about 2 weeks after birth, he lost circulation in his left hand. At this time I was visiting the boys every day and had not missed a day until this one Saturday. When I saw them on Sunday, I was horrified by what I saw. I completely panicked. His fingers were completely black, and looked as brittle as twigs.
I called the nurse over and asked what was going on, and she said his fingers
lost circulation (duh!) and that it might return. It happens all the time. But
I knew. I knew it would not. I freaked. The nurse could not console me,
couldn't say anything to help the matter, and I wasn't buying her story. I knew
they were gone. They looked like they had frostbite, completely black, dead.
Upon leaving the hospital, I cried all the way home. I didn't just cry, I
sobbed with my whole heart. I remember how sore my eyes were. I cried all that
night. Nobody could say anything to console me. I KNEW!! I knew in my heart.
They were gone, and no one at the hospital had the FUCKING balls to tell me
that; I had to figure it out on my own. What cowards. I think that's what
bothered me the most.
The next day, I decided I would not pity him, I would not treat him
differently, would not think of him as handicapped. And to this day, there is
nothing his brother can do that he can't. I'm sure it will happen, but he will
compensate. He will always have a special place in my heart. I'm sorry for
favoring one twin over the other, but it's so hard not to – can you fault me?
