Isaac's Story

As part of my counseling for the NICU PTSD, my counselor wants me to write out the whole story, but write it as a letter to each boy. So last night I wrote Isaac's story, and it was very cathartic, so I've decided to share the story with you. I will eventually handwrite it out and put it in my scrapbook for him to read when he is ready. I know I briefly wrote out the physical details before, but this is from a different perspective in a way. So, here we go.

To Isaac:

My sweet boy. On April 21st, 2009, I found out I was pregnant. Your father and I were so incredibly excited. On May 15th, 2009, we went for our first ultrasound. As soon as the picture popped up on the screen, we could clearly see that there were two little beans, you and your brother. The doctor looked at us and said "I've got a surprise for you! It's twins!". Not gonna lie, I was shocked - and terrified. How was my body going to be able to support two people? Did I have enough love for two babies? Did we have enough money to support a bigger family? Those fears quickly melted as you and your brother grew inside me. I felt you kick for the first time in August, when your father and I went to Ocean City, Maryland on vacation. Maybe you liked the beach, because you started kicking up a storm in my tummy as I laid in the sun. Daddy could feel you kick, too. My pregnancy went very well, until I was almost 25 weeks along. We went in for another ultrasound, and the technician noticed that my body was changing, preparing for your birth, but it was far too early for that. So I was admitted to the hospital.

I stayed in the hospital for one week. It was hard being there, but it was nice too, because the nurse came in every morning and put monitors on my belly that allowed me to hear your and your brothers' heartbeats. I loved that - it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. I had to get two very painful shots called betamethasone, which is a medicine that helped you and your brothers' lungs develop faster. At the end of that week, the doctors sent me home, but said that I had to be on strict bedrest, meaning that I had to lay down on my left side all the time, only getting up to shower and to use the bathroom. Your father had to do everything for me, cook, clean, bring me food. He did a wonderful job taking care of me. On the day that I was 30 weeks pregnant, I started having cramps that got stronger and closer together. So I had your Grampy drive me to the hospital. When I got there, the nurse told me I was in labor, and that you and your brother were going to come much earlier than expected. I immediately called your dad, who was at work at the time. The doctors then put a needle in my hand to give me a medicine called magnesium sulfate, which helped stop my labor. It made me feel very sick though, and I had to stay on that medication for three days. I also got two more of the betamethasone shots. Finally, on October 19th, you and your brother decided you couldn't wait anymore, and the drugs stopped working.

They wheeled me back to the operating room and in about 6 or 7 pushes, you were born, at 11:10pm. You weighed 2 pounds 15 ounces, and were 16 inches long. You cried right away, even though you were two and a half months premature. You were the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, and both your father and I started crying tears of joy (though your father may deny that!). The doctors quickly took you away and gave you some extra oxygen to help you breathe. You were then taken to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), while I had surgery in order for your brother to be born. After the surgery, daddy wheeled me into the NICU to see you. We saw you first, and you were so small and skinny. The thing that shocked me the most was how tan you were! Your skin was so much darker than mine, it was just like your dad's. We called you "our little tan man". You were hooked up to a machine called CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure). There were prongs in your nose, and it blew extra oxygen and air directly in your lungs to help you breathe. But you were breathing on your own, you just needed a little extra help. You also had an umbilical catheter and a central line through your belly button to help give you fluids and food. It was very hard for me to see you hooked up to all that equipment, and I felt very guilty for having had you so early. Please don't take this the wrong way, but to me you looked almost like a cute little baby monkey, so Nana and I started calling you "monkey". We both fell in love with you.

On October 21st, your third day of life, I got to hold you for the first time. I came down to visit you after I'd eaten dinner, and the nurse had you all wrapped up like a baby burrito. She had to take off your CPAP machine to hand you to me, and you were so much happier without it. But your lungs weren't working like they should be yet, so she had to reattach it once you were in my arms, and you screamed and cried. It was so hard for me to watch. Holding you for the first time was one of the best moments of my life. I looked into your little eyes, and you looked right back at me. I sat there and held you and cried more tears of joy for an hour.

For two days, you had to be put under special lights called 'bililights', because you were jaundiced. They were very bright lights, and the nurses gave you special little sunglasses to put over your eyes to protect them. It was adorable!

You had to stay on the CPAP machine for 6 days, then you were able to breathe and get enough oxygen on your own. By that time, my milk had come in, so you were being fed my breastmilk via a tube down your throat directly into your tummy. You were too young to suck on a bottle, and this way you did not have to waste energy eating, you just got immediately full whenever you were hungry! You continued to improve and grow as you stayed in the hospital. Your father and I came to visit you every day, multiple times a day. Your isolette was right next to Gabriel's.
About three weeks into your hospital stay, you got sick. I had woken up in the middle of the night to pump breastmilk for you, and I had a message on my cell phone from the NICU asking me to call them about you. I was terrified. I called them, and they told me that you had had blood in your poop. It was a sign that your tummy was not working properly. They had put a needle in your hand to give you extra fluids, and they stopped feeding you milk in order to let your tummy rest. They were afraid that you had a disease called NEC (necrotizing entercolitis), which is very serious and babies can die from it. I was so upset I could not go back to sleep, so I went to visit you in the hospital. You were so angry that they weren't feeding you, you just yelled and screamed. The nurses said that was a good sign though, because it meant that you didn't feel sick. They took your blood and ran lots of tests on you, and after a few hours they told me that the tests were normal, and that you did not have NEC. Your father and I were so relieved and happy! They think your tummy reacted badly to something called human milk fortifier, which was baby formula that they were adding to my milk to help you gain weight faster. So they stopped adding it to your milk after that, and you recovered wonderfully.

Shortly after that, you began to drink out of a bottle, and never looked back! They hardly ever had to feed you with the gavage tube after that. Your dad and I would schedule the time we visited you so that we got to give you a bottle - we loved it. I started to try and breastfeed you then, too, but it was alot of work for both of us. We also often did what is called 'kangaroo care', where they stripped you down to a diaper, and I took off my shirt and the nurses placed you on my chest. That was my absolute favorite. It was so comforting for me to feel your little warm body on my skin, gently breathing. We did that for several hours every day.

After 5 weeks, you weighed a little over 4 pounds, and the nurses took you out of your heated isolette and put you in a regular open crib. It was a big milestone! You were wrapped in lots of blankets, and it became your job to keep your body temperature stable. You did such a wonderful job! You stayed in that open crib for about a week. On November 31st, 2009, your six week birthday, after 42 days in the NICU, you came home with your dad and I. You weighed 4 pounds and 14 ounces.

That first night was very scary for your father and I, because suddenly we were by ourselves with you. We had gotten used to always having a nurse or doctor there in case we had any questions. We mostly just held you - after having been separated from you for so long, I did not want ever want to put you down. We eventually got into a routine, you ate alot, I did more kangaroo care with you, and we took naps together. You had daddy and I to yourself for almost three weeks before your brother came home!

It was absolutely life-changing to have you, not just because we were having babies, but because you were born so early. You are a part of me, sweet boy, a part of my soul. It physically hurt me to be separated from you for those first couple months. I missed you constantly, and spent every spare moment I had at the hospital with you and your brother. Your brother came home on December 19th, 2009, your two month birthday, and our family was finally complete. You two are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I thank God every day that you are healthy, and that I am lucky enough to have you in my life. I love you.