Summer is finally here!

Who would have thought doing your taxes would bring you down memory lane? As Paul and I were going through our medical bills, adding up the mileage of our weekly ultrasounds and checking the dates, we saw the notes I had made in my calendar after each appointment.

Pregnant!
Twins!
Ultrasound with Dr.
Heartbeat?
Ultrasound with high risk dr.
Baby b.
TRAP?!
And so on.

So surreal to see all of those notes again and it reminded me that I haven't written in a while. Many of you have said I left you hanging, so here is a long overdue update!

There is a verse in the Bible that talks about a woman forgetting the pain of childbirth.

"But as soon as she has given birth, she no longer remembers the anguish, For joy that a child has been born into the world."

Hmm. I’m not saying that the Bible is wrong but the part about “as soon as she has given birth”… can’t say that that is true. Maybe it’s because it just happened but I don’t see how I can ever forget that pain. I had heard about back labor but until I went through it, I had no idea the intensity of that kind of pain. The first thing I said to Paul when it was over was adoption from now on. I’m only half kidding.

10 days before my due date, I went to the Dr. for my weekly non-stress test. During the test, Summer’s heart rate started to drop and they sent me to the hospital for closer monitoring. Coincidentally, I started having contractions naturally at the same time. My contractions came quickly – they started 5 minutes apart and with a fierce strength.

When I arrived at the hospital, my nurse told me how she was having an awful day and now she had to stay to work another shift. Great, just what I want to hear. As she went on to tell me about her bad day, all I could focus on were her long nails and the loud tapping noise they made on everything she touched. The more I tried to focus on her words, the louder the nails got. Tap tap. Tap tap. I couldn’t decide if it’s annoying or humorous.

I try to tell her that I don’t want to be induced because my last labor went so quickly and I can tell that my contractions are very strong and don’t need any help. She leaves and comes back with 2 resident doctors. As they try to convince me that I need to be induced for medical reasons (aka the safety of my baby), she stands by and types on the computer. All I hear is tap tap. I succumb and allow them to induce me. “We’ll be back in 4 hours to check on you. Get comfy, it’s going to be a long night!” Little did they know...

When Paul arrived 45 minutes later, I was arguing with Nurse Nails, begging her not to give me more induction medication.
“I need you to sit still please.” Nurse Nails again.
By now, I’m just ignoring her. I start scratching the bedrails just to distract me from the what feels like the jaws of life ripping my insides apart.
“Oh honey, stop that. You are going to regret doing that to your nails in the morning.”
Really? No 4 letter words come out but I can’t say I wasn’t thinking of a few.

We argue for a bit as she says its impossible to have dialated so quickly. But sure enough, an hour and a half after my first contraction, I was ready to push. The anesthesiologist finally came but by the time he gave me the epidural there was no time for it to take effect.
They called my doctor but Summer wasn’t waiting that long.
After a few pushes, she was born into the hands of a med student.

5 minutes after delivering her, my legs begin to feel numb...as the epidural starts to kick in.

********

Prior to the delivery, I knew I wanted to see baby B. This baby that had caused so much emotion during the pregnancy. I knew she wasn’t a baby anymore but still, I wanted to see her. Paul, on the other hand, had no interest. However, after the birth, that all changed.

With my eyes still closed, and my breath still ragged from the delivery, I asked about her.

"I had a twin - can you see the acardiac twin?"

Acardiac twin? I hate that phrase! Why did I say that? Maybe it was because the medical staff didn’t know who Cayden was so I used the term they would recognize. Maybe it was because I didn’t know how else to ask – I couldn’t say Cayden, or Baby b - my doctor hadn’t arrived yet and none of these people had referenced the TRAP situation. Either way, I used the phrase that most haunted me during the pregnancy. A phrase I hated. Strange.

Even stranger was that I didn’t want to see her anymore. And Paul did. My doctor arrived at that point and they examined baby b. When they asked if I wanted to see her, I said no. I’m not sure why - maybe because I was still recovering from the intensity of the birth and in quite a bit of pain.

(For those of you that are curious, baby b did not look like the pictures you see online of an acardiac twin. There were no body parts or anything that resembled a baby.)

There was about a 60 second stint where Paul and the doctor examined baby b while I caught my breath from the delivery, and then that part was over. Then they brought Summer to me. Maybe the drama of the labor was God’s way of reminding me of who the focus needed to be on. It worked.

My mom came in, Paul was taking pictures and I couldn’t take my eyes off of this precious baby. The fear and anxiety of the pregnancy melted away. It was all about Summer. It wasn’t sad. Not even bittersweet. There was no thoughts of ‘it could have been 2'. There were no tears for what could have been. It was all about her. Her rosebud nose. Her bright blue eyes. Her teeny little body. She was amazing. A miracle that we could not take our eyes off of.

Instead of thinking of baby b, I thought of Mia. Of how much she will love Summer. Of how she will think Summer is her little baby doll. Of how much I missed Mia and how much love I have for them both.

It wasn’t until we were moved to our recovery room where we would spend the next 3 days bonding with our newborn and showing her off to friends and family, that I even thought about what it would have been like to have had twins. It just made me marvel at what a miracle Summer really is.

Paul gave me a necklace that has a heart with a C on it. It represents so much to me. It’s Cayden, and the full heart she now has in heaven. It’s a reminder of the journey we have taken and the lessons we have learned along the way. I don’t think I’m the only one that loves this necklace. Nearly every time I nurse Summer, she raises her little hand and takes hold of the necklace, wrapping her tiny fist around the heart and the C.

People ask me if Summer looks like me or Paul but its neither of us.
She actually looks a lot like Mia.
So in a sense, I have my twins after all.

Another ultrasound, another prayer request

Another ultrasound. After weekly ultrasounds for almost 6 months, it should be no big deal. But this one…this one is different. Instead of seeing Summer through the protective lining of my belly, she will be the one exposed. When she was in my belly, I had to rely on her, her little heartbeat, to know she was ok. But now it’s reversed. Now she relies on me to be ok. To be safe. To be free of pain. And in this case, there is nothing I can do.

Now, she is the one that will lay there as the technician carefully examines her. Specifically, her spinal cord.

Your mind automatically goes to worst case scenario when you hear possible bad news. It doesn’t matter if you are a glass half full kind of person, which I think I am; you still need to know worst case scenario. I think it’s so that you know what you are hoping doesn’t happen, what you are trying to avoid. What you are praying against. Of course the goal is to focus on the best case scenario. But sometimes you get stuck.

So when the pediatrician told me today that she suspected Summer might have a tethered spinal cord, I initially assumed it would be just another dramatic possibility. A normal spinal cord is free flowing at the base. However it can sometimes be attached, or tethered, to the tissues around it. Of course, I still had to ask about what it could mean, and she told me about worst case scenarios –surgery to untether the cord, possible incontinence, nerve damage, some degree of Spina bifida. She also told me that it’s possible that there is nothing wrong – just like with TRAP and the fluid on the brain. (According to the pediatrician, the fact that a neurosurgeon does the ultrasound was supposed to make me feel better. But it only made me realize the severity of this condition.)

As I left the waiting room and saw the other moms, I wondered if they are all receiving ‘possible’ news about their little ones. I never did with Mia – why is there so much surrounding Summer? I decided to schedule the ultrasound and not worry about it until there was something to worry about.

Then I got in the car. And no matter how loud I turned up the radio, my thoughts were always just a bit louder. What if she has Spina bifida? What if she will be incontinent the rest of her life? What if she’s crying right now because the car seat hurts her spinal cord? Is that even possible?

That all too familiar feeling of anxiety started to well up. I thought I was done with that feeling! But somehow, this time, it was stronger. When I was pregnant, the unknown put distance between the picture on the ultrasound and the reality of my child. What will she look like? What will happen? But now she’s here. It’s real. She’s my baby and my job is to protect her. And that maternal mama bear instinct is as strong as ever.

It wasn’t until my sister in law called and I began explaining the situation to her that the tears came. (I should add that this was after I spent nearly an hour online researching tethered spinal cord. Yes…I know.) But after those initial tears, I was then able to focus on the best case scenario for a few days until… the doubts started creeping in. Was it just my imagination or were her cries starting to indicate that she was in pain? Did those lines on her back that the doctor saw seem to be getting bigger? Was it crazy to think that there would be no consequences of TRAP sequence?

Worst case scenario. I try not to focus on that but all I want to hear when I go to the ultrasound tomorrow is that she is not in pain. Whatever the diagnosis, we will deal with it. But there’s nothing worse than seeing your child in pain with no way to alleviate it.

I have written about the first time I met Summer and the joy of that moment and the moments since then. It has been amazing having my 2 girls. We have really been enjoying this time together as a family of 4. I will post that soon but I wanted to get this post out there first so that those of you that pray, can pray. You can pray that she doesn’t have a tethered spinal cord. That she is not in any pain. That the neurosurgeon will see clearly what he needs to see.

Once again, thank you for your prayers and support on this journey. My sweet Summer had a dramatic pregnancy, a dramatic birth, and I’m hoping this will be the last of her dramatic surprises. At least until she is a teenager – then at least the drama is expected!