It's a nightmare

I spent 2 weeks in the hospital laying in my own filth, pissing and shitting in a pan for nothing. It made absolutely no difference in the end. Mike and I came into the hospital scared beyond belief at the thought of losing both our children, but were so stupidly positive. I had myself convinced that if I just laid there until all my blood clotted and my legs didn't work anymore, or died from uterine infection that at least both my babies would be alive. So so so stupid.

June 20th, Father's Day morning... yeah, Father's Day, we had an ultrasound to check the babies. Both heartbeats had been and were at that time perfect. The ultrasound tech told us that Aubrey was in birth canal. Yep, perfectly healthy, normal heartbeat living in my birth canal. The doctor wasn't there but there was no need for him to explain to us what that meant. I knew that Aubrey was going to die. None of it made any sense. I didn't feel anything the entire time. They told me if Aubrey came out of my cervix I would feel it and there would be lots of blood. There was nothing, NOTHING. And her fucking heartbeat was normal.

Mike and I lost it. We just said goodbye the whole day, playing Frank to her cause I wanted her to hear something nice. Young At Heart will never sound the same.

When the doctor came in that night he told us what our options were. He said that at that point there were no chances of Aubrey reaching viability outside. He told us that leaving her in my birth canal would be putting Michael's life at risk. So we decided to save Michael. It makes me want to throw up just thinking about it. But to comfort ourselves we made up a stupid little thought that Aubrey gave up her life to save Michael's. Right.

So I was wheeled down the hall to a bright and cheery room. I don't know why they moved me in there. It made no difference. I can't even describe to you what it feels like to have someone remove a baby from you. It felt like my insides were being dug out.

Aubrey was born alive. It was awful. It was the worst most awful experience of my life. She was moving around. I can't even imagine what it must have felt like for her to slowly suffocate. To slowly die without even understanding why. Mike and I held her, listening to Sinatra for about an hour. That was about as long as she lived, one hour. We could see her heartbeat getting slower and slower. It was horrible. I didn't think I would be able to even look at her after she was born because I thought it would haunt me the rest of my life, but I didn't want her to die alone. The worst part was she look exactly like me. She had my nose and lips and fingers... Mike's toes, though. It was so sick for something so perfect to die for no reason.

We then had to suck it up and stay positive for Michael's health. They had left her placenta in there because they were unsure if the placentas had fused. The doctor was also very positive about things because he said it looked like the cervix was closing. Our new plan was to be transferred to the other hospital to see the specialist and get the cerclage. But I had to make it 48 hours stable without an infection. I would be transferred the morning of the 23rd.

On June 22nd around 10 pm Michael's water broke. I can't even explain to you why because nobody knows. You can lay in a hospital bed refusing to get up and still break your water. I remember looking at Mike when I was laying there and I've never seen him look so scared. It was over. We both knew it. I couldn't believe that it was happening again. I couldn't do it again.

The next morning they did an ultrasound. Doctor told us what we already knew. Michael had no water and his foot was in my cervix. He told us the chances of Michael surviving were slim. BUT his heartbeat was normal. You know, that was like this sick game the entire time. My babies died completely healthy. The heartbeats kept me laying there, but I ultimately had to make the decision to kill them even though their heartbeats told me not to. It was sick. It would have been so much easier if they had just died on their own.

There was no point in my lying there anymore so I got up the will to walk to the shower. My legs didn't work anymore and I almost blacked out after my shower from a fall in blood pressure. I longed the whole time I was laying there for a shower and it was just a shower. There was nothing fantastic about it.

Michael was born alive on June 24th. It was a thousand times worse than what happened with Aubrey. I contracted Michael mostly out. The nurses and Mike kept asking me to take something for the pain, but it was almost like this punishment I wanted for myself. I'm killing my baby so I should feel the pain of it. The doctor came in to help me deliver Michael. It was horrible to actually push out your baby knowing full well that he would suffocate and die.

Michael was much bigger than Aubrey. It was so strange to look at him because he was so much more developed because he had had more time in the womb and more water. And it was exactly how I had said. He looked just like Mike. Aubrey looked just like me and Michael looked just like Mike. He was perfect. There wasn't a thing wrong with him. He too slowly died laying on my heart.

Before delivering Michael I had to sign this waiver. If something were to go wrong they would have to go to the OR and they would put me under anastesia because it would be quite painful. They would have to perform this procedure where they go into the uterus through the vaginal canal and scrape out any leftover placenta. Sometimes with premature delivery the placentas get stuck because they are not ready to come out. I had to sign the waiver because it can cause scaring to your uterus.

Of course, something did go wrong. They pumped pitocin in me after Michael was delivered to get the placentas out. They had it dripping so quickly into my system that I was in excruciating pain within 15 minutes. The doctor told the nurses when he left that the placentas could take up to 2 hours to come out, that he wasn't concerned. I tried to deal with the pain but Mike kept telling me there was no point in putting myself through it so I gave in and got something injected into my IV. It worked for about 10 minutes until the pain became so bad that it over-road the drugs and putting me straight back into reality. The nurses came in and had me push out what they thought was one placenta. They had me keep pushing and every time I did I had gushes of blood, more and more blood. The doctor came in a little bit later and looked at everything and said he needed to get the placentas out now. Everything got really scary. He started yelling at the nurses, telling them to drop what they were doing. I'll never forget the words "I'm not going to lie, you've lost a lot of blood." It was frightening. Then he told me he had to do that procedure and I could hit him later for it. I was so scared that it didn't even matter, I wanted him to do what he needed to do. I had no anestesia, no drugs... It was horrible. I hardly made a sound though cause I think I was in some sort of shock. Thinking back on it all I still don't believe it.

A little bit later they pumped someone else's blood into me. Never would I have ever agreed to that but it just didn't even matter anymore. I was sent home the next day. When the wheelchair girl came up to take me down to the car she was so confused when we opened the door. She had this face like "where is the baby?" And then when she realized she patted me on the shoulder and said it was going to be okay. Fuck you. Don't talk to me. Your heart didn't just break twice.

So there you have it. Two perfect human beings gone for no reason at all. I did everything I could do to save them and it didn't make a damn bit of difference. I went through every bit of pregnancy and labor, even getting my milk a day later, and all I have to show for it is 2 memory boxes the hospital gave us. I get 2 boxes to put on a shelf in the nursery. And please, I would love to never hear again "It's part of God's plan." So many people have said this to us and I have no idea why. Is that supposed to make me feel better? That my babies death was planned? My life is a living nightmare now because of God? Why would that make me feel any ounce of bow down in servitude? My babies did NOT die in some elaborate plan for my life. My babies died for nothing. I have to spend the rest of my life wanting them so badly... waking up every morning and realizing it is real, falling apart all over again... that is not a plan. If it is, it's disgusting and I'd rather not hear about it.

I don't know what we're supposed to do with what is left now. Mike and I are dreading the holidays. Everything seems so empty now without our babies to look forward to. I miss them so much. I can't even get through one day without crying over them and begging for them to come back to me. It's sick but all I want to do is get pregnant again and for it to be boy/girl again because in a way it would actually feel like they did come back to me. I would feel like it was them and I could just be happy again.

I want to wake up from this nightmare.

Staying positive

I apologize if there is so many typos but I am typing laying on my back inverted with a pillow under my neck to prop the laptopp against the hosipital table. Yes, we're in the hospital with no real check out date in site. Here's what happened.

Wednesday and Thursday I was having a lot of discharge. I didn't think much of it because discharge is normal in pregnancy. It was a bit odd considering I hadn't had much of any discharge so far. Friday morning when I sat up from bed a bunch of thick discharge started pumping out of me. It was about a quarter cup. So to be cautious I got my folder of numbers out for the OB and they told me to come in so they can check me before the weekend.

Mike ended up driving me to the wrong office which I pouted about while we waited for 2 hours to be fit in. In a way it was sorta lucky that we ended up at that office because the doctor was there and I was only going to be seen by a nurse at the other office. So when we were finally called back the doc did a speculum exam and immediately stopped it after a few seconds and told me to get dressed. It scared me beyond belief, but Mike said it's probably nothing. He came back in and sat down and told me he saw a bag of water. I lost it immediately. I knew what that meant and it wasn't anything good. Mike and I were moved to the waiting room to wait for an ultrasound and thank god there wasn't anyone in there because I shaking a crying uncontrollably. It was the hardest thing to pull myself together because I suddenly realized how fragile I was at that point and any sort of stress would make things worse.

When they did the ultrasound the saw that my cervix was open and the amniotic sac of baby A was "hour glassing" out. Both babies had sufficient amniotic fluid regardless of the situation. The doctor then sent us to be admitted to the hospital and wait to see a specialist on Monday. I was immediately placed on a bed in an inverted position on my back to keep anything from further coming out of the cervix. I was given a catheter because I'm not allowed up. I'm on meds to stop contractions if they start. They have been treating me on antibotics to prevent an infection in my uterus. If no infection had developed by Monday I was going to be transferred to a hospital in Orlando where the specialist would evaluate me and decide whether or not he could perform a rescue serclauge. Unfortunately we descovered there is most likey a tear in Aubrey's amniotic sac because I have a tiny bit of fluid come out every so often. They had the fluid tested and it was positive for amniotic fluid.

The next day they did another ultrasound and saw that nothing had really changed except that my cervix had opened more and Aubrey's head was very close the opening. They did all their measurements at that time as well. It was the hardest thing to see. Mike had to walk away cause he couldn't even watch. The worst part was when she said "what beautiful spines they have." It was completely heartbreaking to see two perfect babies alive and doing well with no idea of the situation.

After that Doctor Winger came in and told us what our options were. He said that if the sac was to break I would go into labor and at 18 weeks Aubrey would die. They are not viable outside of the womb until 24, and that's weeks in the NICU without any gaurantees of survival. He said I could abort one or both because there was a risk of infection and that could kill me. He said I could possibly deliver Aubrey and if I was stable with Mikey for 48 hours they could possibly perform a cerclauge on the cervix and maybe, chances are slim, but I could keep him. Regardless of the choice and outcome I will be in the hospital on my back for the rest of the pregnancy. Dr Winger told me if I wanted to stand up I could and the amniotic fluid would most likely leak out until the sac burst and I went into labor. Trying not to lose control of my emotions I asked him "do I have to stand up?" He told me no, that I could just lay here and see what happens. I asked him if it was possible that I somehow manage to stay stable with both sacs intact for 6 weeks if there would be hope. He said yes, if I was able to keep both babies until 24 weeks they would transfer me to the Orlando hospital with the NICU. He didn't bullshit me, he told me it would be a rare case...that he's never heard or seen something like that happening, but it is possible. I asked him if the amniotic sac could heal up (we had been reading success stories online of sacs healing on their own.) He said that it is possible for the sac to heal if it's small tear, or for me to keep replenishing the small amount I'm losing by loading up on the fluids. I told him this is our plan. I'm not giving up.

So it is Monday and no change from the outside we can see. Mike has been taking care of me; bathing me, doing morning and nighttime massage circulation on the entirety of my backside to avoid blood clots. He's been my everything right now. For a moment while he was bathing me in my bed I felt a bit guilty. I told him later that I love him very much and I did feel guilty that he's taking such good care of me, but I don't feel guilty anymore because I know it's none of it is for me, it's for the babies. And we both laughed when he confirmed my theory.


I have been talking to Aubrey. She knows that she needs to stay in there. I told her to stay up in there right next to Mikey cause it's not safe for her out here. I know she can hear me in my mind because I've felt a close connection to both of them this entire pregnancy. I'm sure of the fact that they both can hear my thoughts and will listen.

Our goal right now is to make it intact to July 22nd. If that's the case our doctor will most likely move us around the second week of July to the other hospital.


At this point I would do anything for them. I'm on a million drugs, my head is pounding, I can hardly sleep on my own, I feel the worst I've ever felt in my life, but I would do this forever to have both of them. I don't want one baby, I want both. This is our plan....I have no other plan that doesn't involve having both babies or falling apart for the rest of my life. I guess some could say that eventually I would just need to let go, but I simply can't. Not when there is still hope.

I'm grateful to all of the nursing staff and doctors who have taken care of Aubrey, Mikey, and myself. I take back everything negative I have ever said about modern medicine. Sometimes it's completely necessary.


I'm sorry I won't be able to keep updating everyone on what is going on. It took me 5 hours just to write this because I can hardly breath the way I'm laying and I can't get too excited cause my contraction line starts bouncing. Mike is keeping in touch with family and that is about all we can do to update at this time. I appreciate everyone's thoughts and prayers. Love you all.