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“Okay, here’s the plan. We know these babies are coming, we can wait twenty-four hours for the pain to start or we can gently get them going with some synthetic hormone.”
“Jeez, is this a happy, cranky, or emotional hormone?” I asked and he eyed me with a smirk.
Pulling up a chair her doctor sat down and read from her notes. “So, let’s see. The membranes broke at 8:15 a.m. and it’s 9:30 p.m. now. I vote we give your uterus some time and see where we go from there. Both babies are head down and twin A’s head is engaged. Twin B’s position is good. I’d like to see a nice normal vaginal delivery for both, Billie, but you know the risks. Any issues whatsoever and we’re opting for a C-section, as we previously discussed.”
“We did?” I asked, unaware of this development.
“Oh yes, you were away when I had the appointment. It’s precautionary. Sometimes the second baby turns or gets into a position where it won’t deliver. With Billie’s petite stature and the size of the babies, we’ll move her to the OR for the births. It’s a bigger team with two babies and it will also have Billie in the right place if these measures become necessary.” Fuck, how did I not know she had to give birth in the OR? I wasn’t stupid and I had known twins came with a higher risk of complications, but to hear the plan and how imminently it may play out worried me.
Usually, I was an eternal optimist, but my stomach felt coiled with nerves that at any time something would change, so when Billie began having pains on her own for the first couple of hours my mind was internally in meltdown.
Billie opted for an epidural, and this was inserted as soon as her contractions had eased. Watching the procedure made me wince and I felt nauseous on her behalf.
“Gosh, the sounds of their heartbeats are lulling me to sleep.” I stared at her in disbelief because from my viewpoint, if I had been her, sleep would have been the last thing on my mind.
Surrounded by high-tech gadgetry, Billie had appeared to take it all in her stride as a clear intravenous line extended from a cannula in the back of her hand, which pumped clear fluid injected with artificial hormones to help her labor progress. I was reassured this was all normal management since she had the spinal in place.
Billie’s blood pressure and pulse, as well as the babies’ heart rates, were also constantly monitored, and everything progressed very well until around five hours later we heard one of the babies’ heart rates dip dramatically on the monitor recording them.
“Christ, what’s happening? That’s not good, right?” I blurted, totally forgetting myself as I allowed my emotions to flow.
“Sawyer, sit down it’s fine,” Louisa stated, stood and placed her hand on Billie’s abdomen and a minute later, the baby’s heartbeat had returned to normal. She sat back down while I stood with my hands gripping my hair and glanced toward Billie who had indeed dozed off. How the hell can she sleep? “Billie’s fine,” she said amused, and nodded at the chair for me to sit down.
“Billie, can I ask you to lay on your side with the next contraction?” Louisa prompted, and my wife opened her eyes but looked thoroughly washed out.
“Sure, but you’re going to have to help, I can’t feel a thing,” she mumbled, sleepily.
Between contractions I helped Louisa to shift Billie onto her left side. When twin one’s heartbeat dropped again with the following contraction the obstetric nurse then informed Billie she had prepared a tray to examine her again.
Examining Billie on her side she smiled across at me and her eyes went wide. “Billie your baby’s head is sitting right inside the birth canal. I’m going to get some help and we’ll move you next door to the OR,” she said, peeling off the surgical gloves and throwing them in the large trash bin.
As Billie wasn’t in any discomfort, the transfer between rooms went quickly. When I saw the number of people involved, I felt the weight of the complications, which could have occurred, and I felt afraid for her.
The obstetrician and another doctor from his team, two pediatricians, two obstetric nurses, a scrub nurse, two nursing assistants, an anesthesiologist, his assistant and me. This was in the event surgery was necessary after one of the babies had delivered. A lower heartbeat could be heard, and the surgeon asked for some lubrication to examine Billie again.
“Excellent, Billie, your baby’s head is just sitting there, he remarked, smiling as he looked up at us. With the next contraction I’d like you to push.”
I stopped looking and instead focused on Billie’s worried face. I immediately dropped my forehead on hers, cupped her cheek and offered her reassurance. “You got this, darlin’, any minute now we’re going to meet our first baby together. Breathe,” I told her. Calming her calmed me and I felt some of the tension across my shoulders leave my body.
My beautiful girl had only begun to focus on me when her eyes went wide. “Here he comes,” Dr. Stevens said, as I pulled away from Billie just in time to see my first child’s slippery pale body emerge from between her legs and land on the blue drape which had been placed across her. Immediately the doctor placed a clamp on the umbilical cord and cut it.
Billie’s hands flew protectively to the baby’s head and she massaged its tiny wet head. Our dark haired baby opened its eyes and winced at the bright lighting. I chuckled because this was the same thing Billie did first thing in the morning.
“What do we have?” she asked, choked up as we both cradled the baby as best as we could on her stomach.
Louisa lifted one leg for us both to look and we grinned. “It’s a boy,” Billie informed me, even though I had seen for myself and I couldn’t have cared less as long as it was healthy.
Twin B followed just four minutes later, and as twin one was lifted for the pediatrician to check out. The other baby was placed on a fresh blue drape where our son had lain less than a minute before.
“Good job, Billie. What a clever lady you are. You’ve managed to grow a set,” Dr. Stevens praised her as he sat between her legs delivering a placenta. “And without sutures too,” he added.
“A set?” I asked puzzled, and she laughed as the second baby’s sex was displayed and I saw it was a girl. A son and a daughter.
“One of each, how lucky did we get?” I mumbled, stunned almost speechless as to what I’d seen happen just minutes before. I leaned forward and kissed her dry lips. “I’m so fucking proud of you, Billie.” Her lips looked dry. “You need a drink.”
“That’s still going to be a while, I’m breastfeeding, remember?” she joked. I pitied her that she couldn’t have alcohol after all that, when personally, I had needed some whiskey by then.
As soon as both babies had been examined to ensure all was well, and Billie had been checked over, they were both handed back to my wife. Glancing down at their cute scrunched up faces, I had no words for how happy she’d made me, how incredibly blessed we were. And when I saw the euphoric smile Billie also wore when I glanced up from my babies to her, I knew that she felt the same.
