#10 - The Journey with Twins: The Birth Story
*Originally posted in May 2017 - Dates changed so The Journey with Twins posts could all be found in one spot together.
On Monday, September 12, after I woke up at 2 AM with my vivid dream about the babies being born, I began to have more and more contractions. Having never gone into labor naturally before (I was induced with both Daphne and Darcie at 40 weeks), I wasn’t panicking because I felt like these pains very well could be Braxton hicks, my body preparing for labor in the coming days. However, once I woke up fully at about 7:30 AM and Burke was leaving for work, they were becoming increasingly painful and felt identical to the kinds of contraction pains I had experienced with being induced with our girls. The pains had bothered me in the night, but I had been too tired to time them. Once I got the girls some breakfast and read scriptures with them, I finally took the time to give my attention fully to the contractions. I recorded my first contraction at 7:52 with another following close behind at 7:59 and another at 8:05. I tried to call my OB’s office, but they weren’t open yet, so next I called my Mom and asked her how close together they needed to be before I got worried. I already had a Non Stress Test scheduled that morning at 11:00 AM at my OB’s office and an apt with Dr. Sanders directly after, so I decided to just go in then. They began to slow a little, so I thought I must have just had Braxton Hicks after all.
As I began to get ready for the day, pausing when a particularly painful contraction hit, I got a text from my mother-in-law letting us know that she was with Catherine's family (Burke's little sister) while Cath and Mat left for the hospital to be induced with baby #4! Mat and Cath never find out what they were having and it is always so exciting to wait for their text and learn the gender and name of their newest babe. As I struggled through the contraction, I hoped that Catherine wouldn't feel bad if she ended up sharing her big day with us!
I remember as they checked us in at Labor and Delivery that there was a rather impatient nurse there who seemed none too pleased about our arrival as they were already full to the hilt. It's been too long for me to remember exactly what she said, but I do remember she was clueless to the fact that we had already lost one of the twins and acted like I was an idiot when I tried to tell her we were having a c-section to safely remove two babies. Another nurse came rushing over as she heard the confusion going on and tried to softly and delicately explain that we were dealing with one live baby and one stillborn. I just remember that grouchy nurses's face just crumpled with sadness and embarrassment, especially as she turned to see me wiping at tears falling down my cheeks. She mumbled an apology and said she knew what I was feeling as she had dealt with years of infertility and miscarriages. I nodded, but was grateful not to have to carry on a conversation when they ushered us into their last room available.
As we got settled, we called our moms and then Burke sent out a text to my family to update them and then to his family (who already had a group text going crazy - turns out it was a lovely baby girl they name Isabelle) asking the Adams family is we could join in the excitement! In that moment it suddenly registered that our twinless twin Alan would have a birthday twin in the family after all! Talk about the tender mercies of the lord!
Again, I was completely out of touch with how quickly they were hoping to do the c-section. It was about 1:30 by this time and in my mind we would be going in around 4 o'clock. When we got to our room, we brainstormed who we could call to take the girls as I changed into my hospital gown. Normally, we would have just called my mother-in-law, Marie, but she was in St. George taking care of Catherine's kids. My next thought was my sister-in-law, Marinda, but on my first attempt to call her she didn't pick up. We knew there were several people who would be willing to take the girls, but I was worried about bothering people on such short notice and was discussing the next candidate when Marinda called back. I told her our story and said Burke could come bring the girls to her house if she was ok with it. She said of course, that she had just finished a run, would jump in the shower right away and be ready for them in the next 20-30 minutes. As we hung up, Burke started getting the girls ready to go while several nurses came bustling in, moving extremely quickly. I was trying to say goodbye to the girls when the nurse putting in my IV massacred my arm causing me to yelp in pain. She couldn't find my vein and poked me numerous times, digging around to find the right spot. It was awful and I was crying and shaking as blood smeared all over my arm. Daphne was traumatized and began to cry asking Burke what the lady was doing to Mommy! She is as woozy about needles and blood as Burke is and had to go sit down again. Burke gave the girls his phone to keep them from seeing the nurse working on my IV which she finally had to put into my hand after numerous painful failed attempts at the arm vein.
As two more nurses bustled in, I finally began to register how quickly everyone was moving. I turned to a nurse and asked what time they were planning on doing the c-section. She looked at me and said in surprise, "Um, right now honey!" Flabbergasted I asked, "Wait? What? Now?!" She glanced at the clock currently sitting around 1:40 and returned to typing notes on the computer as she responded, "Yes, we will wheel you down in just a few minutes. We are scheduled for 2 o'clock." For the second time that day, I was completely shocked! Burke had just been about to kiss me goodbye, head out to the car to drive the girls to get something to eat and then take them to Marinda's house. He looked at me with wide eyes and I began to panic, thinking there wouldn't be time for someone to get the girls and that he might have to stay with them instead of coming with me into the OR for the delivery. I frantically tried to call Marinda back, but she was currently showering! I next tried my friend Annie Quintanilla, but she was working that day. I was about to try Jenny Allama when Marinda called back - such a relief! She heard the panic in my voice and said she would burn it over to the hospital right that second and meet Burke in the parking lot. It was about 1:45 at this point and I tried to repress the panic rising within me as the anesthesiologist made his way over, propping a leg up on the bedside chair and resting his elbow there as he consulted his paperwork. He seemed subdued and explained to me how he would insert my spinal in the OR and his plan for managing my pain. He kept looking down at his hands and when he finished his game plan he looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said, "I'm so sorry for what you are all going through."
My eyes instantly spilled over with tears as I realized the great compassion this man was feeling for us as we approached the birth of our sons. I guess I had forgotten for half a second in the frantic dash the reality of our situation.
Once the anesthesiologist left the room, I asked the nurse if there was any way we could postpone the c-section to later that day as I felt close to a panic attack at the thought of Burke not being at my side to hold my hand and tell me the details of the boys' birth as I lay helplessly strapped to the table. She explained that they were rushing as fast as they could because the twins were in practically the worst position they could possibly be in with Baby A (Aiden) at the bottom turned breech (feet first) and posterior (head up) and Baby B (Alan) laying transversely (sideways) on top of him. She said that if my water were to break before they could get me into surgery, it would be very dangerous for all of us. She tried to comfort me by saying it would take a few minutes to prep me in the O.R., so she thought Burke should be able to make it in time and would do all she could to make sure he was there before they started. Burke and the girls kissed me and wished me good luck as he rushed them out of the room to meet Marinda in the parking lot. Later, he said Marinda pulled up right as he got out there, they tossed the girls in and he sprinted all the way back inside where the nurses met him with a scrub suit so he could enter the O.R.
As Burke left, I suddenly realized I had to go to the bathroom very badly and as they were finishing some last minute paperwork, they gave me the ok. While there, I suddenly felt a flush of liquids after I had gone to the bathroom and in horror I thought my amniotic sac had just torn (but not broken as I knew it would have been a waterfall if that had happened). I came out and told the nurse what I had felt. Her eyebrows shot up and she ushered me straight into the wheelchair and said, "Well, all we can do is get you to the O.R. now."
Once in the operation room and up on the table, it was as if all of the stress and heartache from the past several months were pounding down upon me. I began to silently wipe away hot tears as the reality of our grief hit me all over again. I was terrified and overwhelmed with what I was about to face; birth and death colliding together. The juxtaposition of a myriad of emotions swirled around inside like a hurricane: sorrow that Aiden would never take a breath, joy that Alan would soon take his first. Anxiety that Aiden would be too disintegrated to hold his still form, eager to cradle Alan close and feel his warm heartbeat against mine. Relief that the agonizing wait would soon be over, trepidation that further tumult was about to begin.
All I wanted was for my rock, my Burkie to be by my side, coaching me through and holding my hand tightly as they inserted my spinal, as he had been for the previous epidurals I had received for each of the girls's births. I felt so very alone and began to pray silently that Heavenly Father would give me strength, courage and peace for what lay ahead. And in that moment of intense fear, God sent me a living angel to rescue me from the internal agony I was shouldering. Michelle Glover - a nurse I recognized and felt a sense of familiarity with as we had briefly lived in her ward for a few months when we first moved to Cedar City 3 years previously - the same nurse who had softened the blow at our L and D check in earlier. As I sat on the operating table and leaned as far forward as my enormous belly would allow, she came to me, her face covered with a mask, but her eyes full of tender compassion and support. She embraced me and told me softly, but firmly to lean on her, to hold her tight and try to relax as they inserted the needle. She coached me on deep breathing as I shook with tears and trepidation. She told me how well I was doing (although I'm sure I wasn't), how brave I was and reassured me that it would all be over soon. I cried out a bit when the needle popped in my spine, but she continued to soothe me until the bright lights and the sterile room melted together and all I could hear were my own heartbroken whimpers echoing in my ears. The anesthesiologist took over for Michelle and held my hand as they strapped me to the table, injecting something that soon calmed my racing heart and dulled my emotional turmoil. He too told me how proud he was of me and reassured me that it would all be alright.
Despite the drug induced stupor I found myself floating in and out of, I will never forget the elation and utter relief I felt when the anesthesiologist let go of my hand and a familiar presence found me. I knew before he touched me, before he said a word that my Alan Burke was there. My eyes were heavily closed and my ears felt like I was listening to echos underwater, but my spirit felt drawn to his and I breathed a soul weary sigh of relief when I felt his hands on either side of my head, his lips on my forehead, his gentle voice reassuring me, "I'm here Emmy. I made it sweetheart." Now I knew anything could happen and it would all be ok. Burkie would keep me safe. He would make everything right.
Moments later the cesarean began. I remember the pressure, the tugging, the tense and hurried demands from Dr. Sanders that the anesthesiologist insert a drug that he apparently didn't have on hand, knowing something was not going right and the tension in the room, asking Burkie if the babies were alright, forgetting for a moment that Aiden was already gone, remembering and weeping afresh.
The next day I asked Dr. Sanders what had happened on the operating table. He was very candid and explained that right as they had cut me open, my body barreled into the most intense labor contraction it had yet undergone. My muscles had contracted around the babies, making it nearly impossible to remove them. Dr. Sanders had called for the anesthesiologist to insert a muscle relaxant drug, but apparently there had been some confusion and either he hadn't brought it in with his cart of drugs or was slow moving on inserting it, but Dr. Sanders glazed over that in the retelling and simply said forcefully that all anesthesiologists would be double checked on this particular drug for future surgeries. He said that as Aiden was so small, he was able to get him out, but he was obviously most concerned for Alan as the monitors showed his heart rate accelerating and the pressure increasing on him. As ceserean cuts are made horizontally and Alan was also nestled high up in my ribs with his side facing down towards the incision. Dr. Sanders reached in and could only feel his bottom and his hands kept slipping as he tried and tried to find something to hold onto to pull him out. With no limbs to get a purchase on and Alan turned at such an awkward sideways angle, he was considering widening my incision when the contraction finally eased, Alan shifted and he was able to grab hold and yank him to safety.
As they got the babies free, I feebly pushed at Burke and told him to go, he squeezed my hand as he left my side to be with the babies. I called out faintly, "Are they alright?" There was no response, but a commotion of voices at the other end of the room. I began to sob as I tried to ask again, "Are they alright? Are the babies alright?" This time, the anesthesiologist near my head heard me and responded meekly, "I'm not sure sweetheart. I think so. It's going to be ok."
Before I could process that uncommitted response, Burke was by my side again saying that Alan was okay, that Aiden was out too and that they were about to take Alan to the nursery. We had discussed this beforehand and I urged him again to go with the babies and to give me a full report later. Burke kissed me, told me he was proud of me and how much he loved me and then was gone again.
I took deep breaths as I tried to process the little bits of information I had: there had been a struggle to get the babies out, Alan was ok, Aiden was gone. At that moment Dr. Sanders came up and held my hand. He said gently and sympathetically, "Emily, dear, I know that you wanted to hold Baby A if he looked alright. I'm so sorry to tell you this honey, but he is pretty far gone. I think at this point it might be too hard for you emotionally to see him. Of course it's up to you, but I don't think I would recommend it dear."
I felt sick inside as more tears coursed down my face. I felt Dr. Sanders pat my shoulder and walk away. I felt robbed. Cheated. Empty. But a moment later, my angel nurse was by my side again. I will never ever forget this sacred moment with her as she leaned down close to my ear with tears coursing down my cheeks and said softly, "As a nurse, I understand what he is saying. But as a mother, I would want to hold my baby, no matter what state it was in. You have every right to see your baby if you want to." She squeezed my hand as I nodded and managed a quivering, "Thank you. Thank you so much. I do want to see him. Please let me see him." I would see my son. I didn't care what he looked like. My love for him could not be changed by his physical condition and my yearning to hold him in this life would not be deterred. Michelle reassured me that once I was in recovery they would bring him to me whenever I was ready and he could remain with me as long as I liked.
The next hour or so was a foggy haze until at last I was reunited with Burke in our recovery room - the exact same room we had been in with Darcie just shy of two years before. Burke recapped what had happened the last few hours. Aiden had been born first at 2:17 with Alan following at 2:18. Aiden weighed 1 pound 5 ounces while Alan more than tripled his brother at 5 pounds 2 ounces. Aiden was currently at the nurses station and Alan was in the nursery just across the hall where he was being heavily monitored. So far he appeared to be in great shape and I could go to see him as soon as my legs were no longer numb and I could maneuver into a wheelchair.
Burke then told me about Aiden. "He looks so much better than I expected Em. I've seen him and touched him. I think it would be very good for you to see him, I don't think you would be disturbed at all." I told him what Michelle had said in the O.R. and he nodded gratefully and said simply, "He's beautiful Emily. He's our son." It was around 3:30 when Burke went out to the nurses station and requested for Aiden to be brought to our room. I was a little nervous to see the state that he was in, but when Burke took the lifeless bundle out of the plastic hospital bassinet, my arms ached with longing to hold my son and I reached out for him with a desperate yearning in my heart and soul that I will never forget.
That time together with my Burkie and our precious son, our Aiden Burke, are among the most sacred and heart breaking of my life. There were many tears and prayers and loving embraces. Although it was deeply painful, there was also a surreal current of peace flowing through us. We were being sustained in a way that I can only describe as the prayers of hundreds reaching out through time and space to envelope us in their faith and love, easing our aching hearts through the power of the Holy Ghost, the supreme Comforter. Through him, we experienced a feeling of "peace that passeth all understanding." As we prayed for power to uphold us through the atonement of Jesus Christ, we felt reassured yet again that this earthly parting from our son would be bearable as we trusted in the reality of our eternal family's heavenly reunion some day. We felt the love of our Heavenly Father, of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and the roots of our deeply dug testimony entrenched themselves ever more solidly in our souls as we experienced the reality of Heavenly Father's very personal love and compassion for each one of His children - especially our Aiden Burke
Aiden was wrapped in several layers of blankets, disguising just how miniature and soft his little body was underneath. After unwrapping the outer layers, we got him down to just one thin blanket with baby feet imprinted in bold, happy colors across the cloth. It was then that I could fully see his darkened skin, soft and beginning to lose its form. And yet, as Burke showed me the pictures he had taken thus far of Alan in the nursery, we marveled at how the identical features were still visible in spots: the perfect little lips, the darling button nose, the overall shape of the face and eyes. Aiden and Alan: our beautiful identical twins. We held him, marveled over him and cried over him for a good long while.
Regrettably, we weren't afforded much privacy as those of you who have been in hospitals can attest, it's virtually impossible to have more than a handful of minutes of peace with nurses coming in to check your vitals, remove oxygen, and check bleeding, office staff bringing in paperwork for birth certificates, death certificates, insurance and billing reps and on and on. I know that is all necessary to some degree, but I felt frustrated that our sacred space of love and mourning kept being barged in upon. If I could have frozen time and the bustle of the hospital, I would have spent hours with just Burkie, Aiden and I, soaking in that special experience.
I didn't want to let go of Aiden, but the exhaustion and trauma from the day finally crashed down on me and once the nurse promised they would bring him back as soon as I was ready, I allowed her to wheel him off to the nurses station. Burke decided to go get the girls from Marinda's and feed them dinner while I rested and then he would bring them back to meet Alan. We decided that it would be best not to have the girls see Aiden as it might be too hard for them to process. Burke brought them back about an hour later and they were delighted to see their new baby brother through the nursery window. I absolutely love this picture Burke snapped of them trying to get the best possible view through the window. You can tell Darcie didn't have me with her that afternoon with one piggie tail in and the other out! They were so disappointed to not be able to hold him, but the nurse assured them that if he continued to do well, they could come hold him in person in the next day or two.
I saw them briefly and gave them loves before Burke whisked them off as it was way past their bedtime and we had all had a very long, emotional day.
In the hours that Burke was gone, I had several conversations with tender hearted members of the nursing staff, giving their congratulations and condolences and our sweet anesthesiologist checking in to make sure I was okay both physically and emotionally. However, the most significant conversation I had was with our new pediatrician, Dr. Robert Dowse. When he came into the room, he sat down next to me on the bed and visited with me about our experience with the twins. I recapped how we had learned of the growth disparity between the boys at 20 weeks, gone to LA for the emergency laser surgery at 25 weeks and been told to hold on until 32 weeks, but when we went in for our scheduled c-section, little Aiden was gone.
To my surprise, Dr. Dowse got a little emotional as he said, "One thing you may not know is that I too am an identical twin and I have to tell you that twin bond is real and deep."
Taking a deep breath to steady his voice he continued, "You and your husband need to know that your little Aiden sacrificed his life for his brother. If you had taken these boys too early to try to save him, who knows what kind of problems they both would have had to face. Looking at your notes, it was an absolute miracle that he held out to the 32 week mark. He fought on so he could give his brother the biggest leg up he could and now, at 34 weeks, little Alan is looking simply beautiful. Yes, he's tiny and has a bit of jaundice, but I've seen full term babies this tiny and not nearly as strong! When Alan is old enough to understand, you make sure you tell him how much Aiden loved him and there is no doubt in my mind that he did all he could to help his brother get here safely."
As it was both clear that we were both Mormons and held the same beliefs in eternal families, Dr. Dowse took several minutes to discuss with me the reality that I would see Aiden again and his conviction that our entire family, especially Alan, would have many experiences throughout our lives where we would feel his presence. As you can imagine, I was so very touched by this conversation and the spirit testified to me that what he was saying was true. It filed my heart with such excitement and hope to think of future "interactions" with Aiden and I felt certain that if we tried our best to keep our covenants the spirit would be in our home which means Aiden's presence could be felt there too.
Back at home, Burke had got finally got the girls in bed and our wonderful friend, Melany Robbins was so kind to go sit at the house for an hour before my mom arrived so that Burke could come back to the hospital again and be with me to go "meet" Alan for the first time. It had taken 6 long hours for my legs to finally have enough feeling that I could stand and I was anxious to be with Alan and bring the boys together. It was past 9 o'clock when Burke and a nurse helped me into a wheelchair and put Aiden into his bassinet, wheeling both of us across the hall to the nursery. When we entered and I saw our tiny little guy under his warmer, connected to his tubes and wires for the first time, I wanted nothing more than to envelope his tiny body in my arms and breathe him in deeply, caress his sweet face, kiss his soft head and never let him go. But with all the wires and machines, at first they recommended that I leave him in the bassinet warmer. I had Burke wheel me as close as I could get and leaned over the edge, gently stroking his long toes, his skinny little arms and legs, my heart aching to hold him.
With both of our girls being healthy full term babies weighing 8.3 lbs and 7.3 lbs, it saddened me to see his tiny, frail little form. I asked the nurse if there was anything we needed to be concerned about, bracing myself for a diagnosis. However, she just shook her head and said, "No, he's actually doing really well, he's just little!" I can't tell you the relief I felt when I heard that they hadn't discovered anything wrong with him, just being 6 weeks premature hadn't given him time to fatten up, but everything appeared to be functioning properly. In fact, he was already breathing room air levels as they prepared to transition to him breathing on his own without assistance.
Although this was such an exciting moment to be with Alan outside of me for the first time, it was so hard to balance all the emotions battling for the foreground, but I tried to tune out everything but pure joy and gratitude at his safe arrival and channel all of my love for him out of my heart, down my arms, through my fingertips and into his tiny body coaxing him to be strong and grow steadily.
After spending a few minutes solely focused on Alan, we brought Aiden over and put the brothers side by side. Looking at those two, comparing their similarities, it felt like two perfect puzzle pieces clipping together. There was no denying it: these identical boys were meant to be together. As I thought back to Dr. Dowse's inspired comments earlier, I smiled through the tears, thinking of the role they will each play in one another's lives on earth, in heaven and on into eternity.
Our dear nurse, Lisa, could see how I ached to hold them and with tears in her own eyes, she carefully handed me Alan, living, breathing in my right arm, while Burke snuggled Aiden, silent and still in my left. It was the most natural thing in the world, my two sons cradled in my arms. It was the only time I ever held them together in this life.
Burke took his turn next and was so proud to hold his boys. I love that you can see what an adoring father he is in this photo. I was amazed with Burke throughout this entire day. He got tears in his eyes many times, but they never fell once. He was tapped into some superhuman power that was completely beyond me. In reality, looking back I think he had an iron will to hold it together for the girls and I as well as our many family members and friends who were rejoicing and sorrowing along with us.
As I wept over our babies, another angel appeared on the scene. Her name is Annie Gibson (the same rock star nurse who stayed 2 hours past her shift to help us get baby Darcie here safely 2 years before) and if I could nominate her for some kind of nurse of the year award, I would. Actually, I should probably look into that, because she seriously deserves it. We already felt such a love for Annie due to her help bringing Darcie safely into the world via VBAC and during the numerous Non-Stress Tests we had for the twins the last couple of months, she had helped a couple of times and been so encouraging that all would work out in the end. When she came in and saw us holding the boys, she gave Burke and I each a big hug and then asked if we would allow her to do something for us. Gently, she took Aiden from my arm and set him down in his bassinet, slowly unwrapping his blanket. It surprised me to see how much he had already began to soften since we had first spent time with him 6 hours earlier as his little body began to waste away. Although I knew that Burke and I saw only our son, I assumed his little body might be somewhat gruesome and shocking to others to see, let alone touch. Yet her face didn't show a flicker of discomfort. With a tenderness and love that truly amazed me, she poured baby oil onto his skin and began to lightly rub it all over his body. "This will help to keep him from sticking to the blanket and will keep his form a little better," she explained. As she worked, she commented on his beautiful features, on how lucky we were to be his parents and discussed his passing with us in such a comfortable, empathetic manner that I remember thinking, "This woman has absolutely found her calling." Burke and I were both moved by this simple, but incredibly loving act and while she may not remember us from the long line of patients whom she has treated and will treat over the years, in my mind she will always be an angel of light and mercy during our hour of need.
It was past 11 when Burke and I finally kissed Alan goodnight and wheeled Aiden and I back across the hall to my recovery room. I was completely spent physically, spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. We talked briefly, prayed together and Burke kissed me goodbye as he headed back home to take care of the girls. It was so strange to have him leaving as he had always stayed at the hospital with me with our previous babies. However, we realized the girls were also experiencing a lot of emotions right now and they would need their Daddy in the morning. As he left, Burke asked if I would like him to take Aiden back to the nursing station, but I quickly shook my head no and sobbed, "I just want one night with my baby next to me."
All night long my sleep was interrupted regularly by either nurses coming in, but I also found myself waking regularly to "check on the baby." In sleep, I knew Aiden was there beside me and I would wake with a start thinking it had been too long since I had fed him. One awful time I woke in fear as I reached for him and felt a wave of panic when I couldn't hear him breathing, but then realized with a start that of course he didn't need to. In my weariness, I would reach my arm over his bassinet and gently touch his cap, often speaking out loud to let him know I was there, to tell him I loved him. I like to think his spirit was there, hearing me and helping me to peacefully drift back to sleep.
It was a long night to top off a long day, but I was so grateful to finally have them here, to have the birth behind us and to begin the preparations of burying Aiden and raising Alan.
On Monday, September 12, after I woke up at 2 AM with my vivid dream about the babies being born, I began to have more and more contractions. Having never gone into labor naturally before (I was induced with both Daphne and Darcie at 40 weeks), I wasn’t panicking because I felt like these pains very well could be Braxton hicks, my body preparing for labor in the coming days. However, once I woke up fully at about 7:30 AM and Burke was leaving for work, they were becoming increasingly painful and felt identical to the kinds of contraction pains I had experienced with being induced with our girls. The pains had bothered me in the night, but I had been too tired to time them. Once I got the girls some breakfast and read scriptures with them, I finally took the time to give my attention fully to the contractions. I recorded my first contraction at 7:52 with another following close behind at 7:59 and another at 8:05. I tried to call my OB’s office, but they weren’t open yet, so next I called my Mom and asked her how close together they needed to be before I got worried. I already had a Non Stress Test scheduled that morning at 11:00 AM at my OB’s office and an apt with Dr. Sanders directly after, so I decided to just go in then. They began to slow a little, so I thought I must have just had Braxton Hicks after all.
As I began to get ready for the day, pausing when a particularly painful contraction hit, I got a text from my mother-in-law letting us know that she was with Catherine's family (Burke's little sister) while Cath and Mat left for the hospital to be induced with baby #4! Mat and Cath never find out what they were having and it is always so exciting to wait for their text and learn the gender and name of their newest babe. As I struggled through the contraction, I hoped that Catherine wouldn't feel bad if she ended up sharing her big day with us!
Rather than ask someone to babysit the girls, I took them with me to the appointment and met Burke there. While the NST monitoring was underway, I had 3 more incredibly painful contractions. I told Burke several times through deep breaths, "I feel like I’m about to have the babies!" And, “This is about the time I started considering an epidural with the girls.” I told the nurse what I was feeling, but she didn't seem overly concerned and finished the NST before moving me into a checkup room for my regular appointment. Right before our doctor came, we got a text from the Rowleys with nothing but a picture of a sweet newborn face, but no other details!
Before we had time to rejoice over the news of our newest niece or nephew's safe arrival, Dr. Sanders came in with quite a team (we have never had observers before, but this time we had the nurse, his tech Jason and an SUU nursing student). Normally I would have been a bit uncomfortable with this, but I was in the middle of another contraction and trying to act as normal as possible while gritting my teeth and asking Dr. Sanders to please check me (he was about to leave the room, but I mentioned that I thought I had passed my mucus plug the night before and he decided to check me almost as an afterthought). As he checked, I remember seeing his eyebrow raise slightly, but true to Dr. Sanders form he stayed totally even keel as he pulled me back to a sitting position and said calmly, "Well alright, you're dilated to about a 4 and there's a foot trying to come through. I will call over to Labor and Delivery and meet you over at the hospital a little later today so we can do a c-section. Looks like we're meeting the babies today!"
Before we had time to rejoice over the news of our newest niece or nephew's safe arrival, Dr. Sanders came in with quite a team (we have never had observers before, but this time we had the nurse, his tech Jason and an SUU nursing student). Normally I would have been a bit uncomfortable with this, but I was in the middle of another contraction and trying to act as normal as possible while gritting my teeth and asking Dr. Sanders to please check me (he was about to leave the room, but I mentioned that I thought I had passed my mucus plug the night before and he decided to check me almost as an afterthought). As he checked, I remember seeing his eyebrow raise slightly, but true to Dr. Sanders form he stayed totally even keel as he pulled me back to a sitting position and said calmly, "Well alright, you're dilated to about a 4 and there's a foot trying to come through. I will call over to Labor and Delivery and meet you over at the hospital a little later today so we can do a c-section. Looks like we're meeting the babies today!"
Wait...what?! I was in complete shock! But Dr. Sanders was so calm, that I didn't realize how stressful this situation was. In fact, as we left the building, I asked Burke to drive us home first so we could get a bag together, get the girls some lunch and find a babysitter. Thankfully, Burke had caught on to the urgency factor a little better than I had and convinced me we had better go right over to the hospital first and figure out our plans from there.
As we got settled, we called our moms and then Burke sent out a text to my family to update them and then to his family (who already had a group text going crazy - turns out it was a lovely baby girl they name Isabelle) asking the Adams family is we could join in the excitement! In that moment it suddenly registered that our twinless twin Alan would have a birthday twin in the family after all! Talk about the tender mercies of the lord!
Again, I was completely out of touch with how quickly they were hoping to do the c-section. It was about 1:30 by this time and in my mind we would be going in around 4 o'clock. When we got to our room, we brainstormed who we could call to take the girls as I changed into my hospital gown. Normally, we would have just called my mother-in-law, Marie, but she was in St. George taking care of Catherine's kids. My next thought was my sister-in-law, Marinda, but on my first attempt to call her she didn't pick up. We knew there were several people who would be willing to take the girls, but I was worried about bothering people on such short notice and was discussing the next candidate when Marinda called back. I told her our story and said Burke could come bring the girls to her house if she was ok with it. She said of course, that she had just finished a run, would jump in the shower right away and be ready for them in the next 20-30 minutes. As we hung up, Burke started getting the girls ready to go while several nurses came bustling in, moving extremely quickly. I was trying to say goodbye to the girls when the nurse putting in my IV massacred my arm causing me to yelp in pain. She couldn't find my vein and poked me numerous times, digging around to find the right spot. It was awful and I was crying and shaking as blood smeared all over my arm. Daphne was traumatized and began to cry asking Burke what the lady was doing to Mommy! She is as woozy about needles and blood as Burke is and had to go sit down again. Burke gave the girls his phone to keep them from seeing the nurse working on my IV which she finally had to put into my hand after numerous painful failed attempts at the arm vein.
As two more nurses bustled in, I finally began to register how quickly everyone was moving. I turned to a nurse and asked what time they were planning on doing the c-section. She looked at me and said in surprise, "Um, right now honey!" Flabbergasted I asked, "Wait? What? Now?!" She glanced at the clock currently sitting around 1:40 and returned to typing notes on the computer as she responded, "Yes, we will wheel you down in just a few minutes. We are scheduled for 2 o'clock." For the second time that day, I was completely shocked! Burke had just been about to kiss me goodbye, head out to the car to drive the girls to get something to eat and then take them to Marinda's house. He looked at me with wide eyes and I began to panic, thinking there wouldn't be time for someone to get the girls and that he might have to stay with them instead of coming with me into the OR for the delivery. I frantically tried to call Marinda back, but she was currently showering! I next tried my friend Annie Quintanilla, but she was working that day. I was about to try Jenny Allama when Marinda called back - such a relief! She heard the panic in my voice and said she would burn it over to the hospital right that second and meet Burke in the parking lot. It was about 1:45 at this point and I tried to repress the panic rising within me as the anesthesiologist made his way over, propping a leg up on the bedside chair and resting his elbow there as he consulted his paperwork. He seemed subdued and explained to me how he would insert my spinal in the OR and his plan for managing my pain. He kept looking down at his hands and when he finished his game plan he looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said, "I'm so sorry for what you are all going through."
My eyes instantly spilled over with tears as I realized the great compassion this man was feeling for us as we approached the birth of our sons. I guess I had forgotten for half a second in the frantic dash the reality of our situation.
As Burke left, I suddenly realized I had to go to the bathroom very badly and as they were finishing some last minute paperwork, they gave me the ok. While there, I suddenly felt a flush of liquids after I had gone to the bathroom and in horror I thought my amniotic sac had just torn (but not broken as I knew it would have been a waterfall if that had happened). I came out and told the nurse what I had felt. Her eyebrows shot up and she ushered me straight into the wheelchair and said, "Well, all we can do is get you to the O.R. now."
Once in the operation room and up on the table, it was as if all of the stress and heartache from the past several months were pounding down upon me. I began to silently wipe away hot tears as the reality of our grief hit me all over again. I was terrified and overwhelmed with what I was about to face; birth and death colliding together. The juxtaposition of a myriad of emotions swirled around inside like a hurricane: sorrow that Aiden would never take a breath, joy that Alan would soon take his first. Anxiety that Aiden would be too disintegrated to hold his still form, eager to cradle Alan close and feel his warm heartbeat against mine. Relief that the agonizing wait would soon be over, trepidation that further tumult was about to begin.
All I wanted was for my rock, my Burkie to be by my side, coaching me through and holding my hand tightly as they inserted my spinal, as he had been for the previous epidurals I had received for each of the girls's births. I felt so very alone and began to pray silently that Heavenly Father would give me strength, courage and peace for what lay ahead. And in that moment of intense fear, God sent me a living angel to rescue me from the internal agony I was shouldering. Michelle Glover - a nurse I recognized and felt a sense of familiarity with as we had briefly lived in her ward for a few months when we first moved to Cedar City 3 years previously - the same nurse who had softened the blow at our L and D check in earlier. As I sat on the operating table and leaned as far forward as my enormous belly would allow, she came to me, her face covered with a mask, but her eyes full of tender compassion and support. She embraced me and told me softly, but firmly to lean on her, to hold her tight and try to relax as they inserted the needle. She coached me on deep breathing as I shook with tears and trepidation. She told me how well I was doing (although I'm sure I wasn't), how brave I was and reassured me that it would all be over soon. I cried out a bit when the needle popped in my spine, but she continued to soothe me until the bright lights and the sterile room melted together and all I could hear were my own heartbroken whimpers echoing in my ears. The anesthesiologist took over for Michelle and held my hand as they strapped me to the table, injecting something that soon calmed my racing heart and dulled my emotional turmoil. He too told me how proud he was of me and reassured me that it would all be alright.
Despite the drug induced stupor I found myself floating in and out of, I will never forget the elation and utter relief I felt when the anesthesiologist let go of my hand and a familiar presence found me. I knew before he touched me, before he said a word that my Alan Burke was there. My eyes were heavily closed and my ears felt like I was listening to echos underwater, but my spirit felt drawn to his and I breathed a soul weary sigh of relief when I felt his hands on either side of my head, his lips on my forehead, his gentle voice reassuring me, "I'm here Emmy. I made it sweetheart." Now I knew anything could happen and it would all be ok. Burkie would keep me safe. He would make everything right.
Moments later the cesarean began. I remember the pressure, the tugging, the tense and hurried demands from Dr. Sanders that the anesthesiologist insert a drug that he apparently didn't have on hand, knowing something was not going right and the tension in the room, asking Burkie if the babies were alright, forgetting for a moment that Aiden was already gone, remembering and weeping afresh.
The next day I asked Dr. Sanders what had happened on the operating table. He was very candid and explained that right as they had cut me open, my body barreled into the most intense labor contraction it had yet undergone. My muscles had contracted around the babies, making it nearly impossible to remove them. Dr. Sanders had called for the anesthesiologist to insert a muscle relaxant drug, but apparently there had been some confusion and either he hadn't brought it in with his cart of drugs or was slow moving on inserting it, but Dr. Sanders glazed over that in the retelling and simply said forcefully that all anesthesiologists would be double checked on this particular drug for future surgeries. He said that as Aiden was so small, he was able to get him out, but he was obviously most concerned for Alan as the monitors showed his heart rate accelerating and the pressure increasing on him. As ceserean cuts are made horizontally and Alan was also nestled high up in my ribs with his side facing down towards the incision. Dr. Sanders reached in and could only feel his bottom and his hands kept slipping as he tried and tried to find something to hold onto to pull him out. With no limbs to get a purchase on and Alan turned at such an awkward sideways angle, he was considering widening my incision when the contraction finally eased, Alan shifted and he was able to grab hold and yank him to safety.
As they got the babies free, I feebly pushed at Burke and told him to go, he squeezed my hand as he left my side to be with the babies. I called out faintly, "Are they alright?" There was no response, but a commotion of voices at the other end of the room. I began to sob as I tried to ask again, "Are they alright? Are the babies alright?" This time, the anesthesiologist near my head heard me and responded meekly, "I'm not sure sweetheart. I think so. It's going to be ok."
Before I could process that uncommitted response, Burke was by my side again saying that Alan was okay, that Aiden was out too and that they were about to take Alan to the nursery. We had discussed this beforehand and I urged him again to go with the babies and to give me a full report later. Burke kissed me, told me he was proud of me and how much he loved me and then was gone again.
I took deep breaths as I tried to process the little bits of information I had: there had been a struggle to get the babies out, Alan was ok, Aiden was gone. At that moment Dr. Sanders came up and held my hand. He said gently and sympathetically, "Emily, dear, I know that you wanted to hold Baby A if he looked alright. I'm so sorry to tell you this honey, but he is pretty far gone. I think at this point it might be too hard for you emotionally to see him. Of course it's up to you, but I don't think I would recommend it dear."
I felt sick inside as more tears coursed down my face. I felt Dr. Sanders pat my shoulder and walk away. I felt robbed. Cheated. Empty. But a moment later, my angel nurse was by my side again. I will never ever forget this sacred moment with her as she leaned down close to my ear with tears coursing down my cheeks and said softly, "As a nurse, I understand what he is saying. But as a mother, I would want to hold my baby, no matter what state it was in. You have every right to see your baby if you want to." She squeezed my hand as I nodded and managed a quivering, "Thank you. Thank you so much. I do want to see him. Please let me see him." I would see my son. I didn't care what he looked like. My love for him could not be changed by his physical condition and my yearning to hold him in this life would not be deterred. Michelle reassured me that once I was in recovery they would bring him to me whenever I was ready and he could remain with me as long as I liked.
The next hour or so was a foggy haze until at last I was reunited with Burke in our recovery room - the exact same room we had been in with Darcie just shy of two years before. Burke recapped what had happened the last few hours. Aiden had been born first at 2:17 with Alan following at 2:18. Aiden weighed 1 pound 5 ounces while Alan more than tripled his brother at 5 pounds 2 ounces. Aiden was currently at the nurses station and Alan was in the nursery just across the hall where he was being heavily monitored. So far he appeared to be in great shape and I could go to see him as soon as my legs were no longer numb and I could maneuver into a wheelchair.
The first pictures Burke thought to take back in the nursery with Alan and the staff (the short haired woman is my angel nurse Michelle).
First picture Burkie took of Alan. I love how you can tell he is fresh from the womb due to his umbilical cord not being tied off yet and very much still "alive" looking.
Aiden was wrapped in several layers of blankets, disguising just how miniature and soft his little body was underneath. After unwrapping the outer layers, we got him down to just one thin blanket with baby feet imprinted in bold, happy colors across the cloth. It was then that I could fully see his darkened skin, soft and beginning to lose its form. And yet, as Burke showed me the pictures he had taken thus far of Alan in the nursery, we marveled at how the identical features were still visible in spots: the perfect little lips, the darling button nose, the overall shape of the face and eyes. Aiden and Alan: our beautiful identical twins. We held him, marveled over him and cried over him for a good long while.
Regrettably, we weren't afforded much privacy as those of you who have been in hospitals can attest, it's virtually impossible to have more than a handful of minutes of peace with nurses coming in to check your vitals, remove oxygen, and check bleeding, office staff bringing in paperwork for birth certificates, death certificates, insurance and billing reps and on and on. I know that is all necessary to some degree, but I felt frustrated that our sacred space of love and mourning kept being barged in upon. If I could have frozen time and the bustle of the hospital, I would have spent hours with just Burkie, Aiden and I, soaking in that special experience.
I didn't want to let go of Aiden, but the exhaustion and trauma from the day finally crashed down on me and once the nurse promised they would bring him back as soon as I was ready, I allowed her to wheel him off to the nurses station. Burke decided to go get the girls from Marinda's and feed them dinner while I rested and then he would bring them back to meet Alan. We decided that it would be best not to have the girls see Aiden as it might be too hard for them to process. Burke brought them back about an hour later and they were delighted to see their new baby brother through the nursery window. I absolutely love this picture Burke snapped of them trying to get the best possible view through the window. You can tell Darcie didn't have me with her that afternoon with one piggie tail in and the other out! They were so disappointed to not be able to hold him, but the nurse assured them that if he continued to do well, they could come hold him in person in the next day or two.
I saw them briefly and gave them loves before Burke whisked them off as it was way past their bedtime and we had all had a very long, emotional day.
In the hours that Burke was gone, I had several conversations with tender hearted members of the nursing staff, giving their congratulations and condolences and our sweet anesthesiologist checking in to make sure I was okay both physically and emotionally. However, the most significant conversation I had was with our new pediatrician, Dr. Robert Dowse. When he came into the room, he sat down next to me on the bed and visited with me about our experience with the twins. I recapped how we had learned of the growth disparity between the boys at 20 weeks, gone to LA for the emergency laser surgery at 25 weeks and been told to hold on until 32 weeks, but when we went in for our scheduled c-section, little Aiden was gone.
To my surprise, Dr. Dowse got a little emotional as he said, "One thing you may not know is that I too am an identical twin and I have to tell you that twin bond is real and deep."
Taking a deep breath to steady his voice he continued, "You and your husband need to know that your little Aiden sacrificed his life for his brother. If you had taken these boys too early to try to save him, who knows what kind of problems they both would have had to face. Looking at your notes, it was an absolute miracle that he held out to the 32 week mark. He fought on so he could give his brother the biggest leg up he could and now, at 34 weeks, little Alan is looking simply beautiful. Yes, he's tiny and has a bit of jaundice, but I've seen full term babies this tiny and not nearly as strong! When Alan is old enough to understand, you make sure you tell him how much Aiden loved him and there is no doubt in my mind that he did all he could to help his brother get here safely."
As it was both clear that we were both Mormons and held the same beliefs in eternal families, Dr. Dowse took several minutes to discuss with me the reality that I would see Aiden again and his conviction that our entire family, especially Alan, would have many experiences throughout our lives where we would feel his presence. As you can imagine, I was so very touched by this conversation and the spirit testified to me that what he was saying was true. It filed my heart with such excitement and hope to think of future "interactions" with Aiden and I felt certain that if we tried our best to keep our covenants the spirit would be in our home which means Aiden's presence could be felt there too.
Back at home, Burke had got finally got the girls in bed and our wonderful friend, Melany Robbins was so kind to go sit at the house for an hour before my mom arrived so that Burke could come back to the hospital again and be with me to go "meet" Alan for the first time. It had taken 6 long hours for my legs to finally have enough feeling that I could stand and I was anxious to be with Alan and bring the boys together. It was past 9 o'clock when Burke and a nurse helped me into a wheelchair and put Aiden into his bassinet, wheeling both of us across the hall to the nursery. When we entered and I saw our tiny little guy under his warmer, connected to his tubes and wires for the first time, I wanted nothing more than to envelope his tiny body in my arms and breathe him in deeply, caress his sweet face, kiss his soft head and never let him go. But with all the wires and machines, at first they recommended that I leave him in the bassinet warmer. I had Burke wheel me as close as I could get and leaned over the edge, gently stroking his long toes, his skinny little arms and legs, my heart aching to hold him.
With both of our girls being healthy full term babies weighing 8.3 lbs and 7.3 lbs, it saddened me to see his tiny, frail little form. I asked the nurse if there was anything we needed to be concerned about, bracing myself for a diagnosis. However, she just shook her head and said, "No, he's actually doing really well, he's just little!" I can't tell you the relief I felt when I heard that they hadn't discovered anything wrong with him, just being 6 weeks premature hadn't given him time to fatten up, but everything appeared to be functioning properly. In fact, he was already breathing room air levels as they prepared to transition to him breathing on his own without assistance.
After spending a few minutes solely focused on Alan, we brought Aiden over and put the brothers side by side. Looking at those two, comparing their similarities, it felt like two perfect puzzle pieces clipping together. There was no denying it: these identical boys were meant to be together. As I thought back to Dr. Dowse's inspired comments earlier, I smiled through the tears, thinking of the role they will each play in one another's lives on earth, in heaven and on into eternity.
Holding Alan for the first time
Me and the boys
Burke took his turn next and was so proud to hold his boys. I love that you can see what an adoring father he is in this photo. I was amazed with Burke throughout this entire day. He got tears in his eyes many times, but they never fell once. He was tapped into some superhuman power that was completely beyond me. In reality, looking back I think he had an iron will to hold it together for the girls and I as well as our many family members and friends who were rejoicing and sorrowing along with us.
As I wept over our babies, another angel appeared on the scene. Her name is Annie Gibson (the same rock star nurse who stayed 2 hours past her shift to help us get baby Darcie here safely 2 years before) and if I could nominate her for some kind of nurse of the year award, I would. Actually, I should probably look into that, because she seriously deserves it. We already felt such a love for Annie due to her help bringing Darcie safely into the world via VBAC and during the numerous Non-Stress Tests we had for the twins the last couple of months, she had helped a couple of times and been so encouraging that all would work out in the end. When she came in and saw us holding the boys, she gave Burke and I each a big hug and then asked if we would allow her to do something for us. Gently, she took Aiden from my arm and set him down in his bassinet, slowly unwrapping his blanket. It surprised me to see how much he had already began to soften since we had first spent time with him 6 hours earlier as his little body began to waste away. Although I knew that Burke and I saw only our son, I assumed his little body might be somewhat gruesome and shocking to others to see, let alone touch. Yet her face didn't show a flicker of discomfort. With a tenderness and love that truly amazed me, she poured baby oil onto his skin and began to lightly rub it all over his body. "This will help to keep him from sticking to the blanket and will keep his form a little better," she explained. As she worked, she commented on his beautiful features, on how lucky we were to be his parents and discussed his passing with us in such a comfortable, empathetic manner that I remember thinking, "This woman has absolutely found her calling." Burke and I were both moved by this simple, but incredibly loving act and while she may not remember us from the long line of patients whom she has treated and will treat over the years, in my mind she will always be an angel of light and mercy during our hour of need.
It was past 11 when Burke and I finally kissed Alan goodnight and wheeled Aiden and I back across the hall to my recovery room. I was completely spent physically, spiritually, emotionally, and mentally. We talked briefly, prayed together and Burke kissed me goodbye as he headed back home to take care of the girls. It was so strange to have him leaving as he had always stayed at the hospital with me with our previous babies. However, we realized the girls were also experiencing a lot of emotions right now and they would need their Daddy in the morning. As he left, Burke asked if I would like him to take Aiden back to the nursing station, but I quickly shook my head no and sobbed, "I just want one night with my baby next to me."
All night long my sleep was interrupted regularly by either nurses coming in, but I also found myself waking regularly to "check on the baby." In sleep, I knew Aiden was there beside me and I would wake with a start thinking it had been too long since I had fed him. One awful time I woke in fear as I reached for him and felt a wave of panic when I couldn't hear him breathing, but then realized with a start that of course he didn't need to. In my weariness, I would reach my arm over his bassinet and gently touch his cap, often speaking out loud to let him know I was there, to tell him I loved him. I like to think his spirit was there, hearing me and helping me to peacefully drift back to sleep.
It was a long night to top off a long day, but I was so grateful to finally have them here, to have the birth behind us and to begin the preparations of burying Aiden and raising Alan.
Read the next installment: "The Journey with Twins: Plans for the Memorial"
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