Thoughts on the Night Before Our First Halloween a Year Later

Tonight in this household, we go to bed with heavy hearts and a lump in our throats.  

A year ago, I woke the following morning and everything changed; Halloween 2014 was the epitome of everything can change in an instant - because it did. The situation changed. Our lives changed. The course of the life we pictured changed. My faith changed. Everything in my head changed.

Reliving the fear of that moment and that day doesn't get easier. It continues to be the most chilling, terrifying moment of my life up to that point. Within seconds of waking up, and going about my morning the same way I had for the past several weeks, I was screaming in fear. It felt like a gallon of fluid left my body and was now a puddle on my bathroom floor. I was helpless. Desperate for it to be a dream. I was certain I was hours, even minutes, away from losing my twins. As a woman, a mother, a soon to be mother... when your water breaks at 16 weeks 5 days you immediately think the worse. We hadn't even had time within this pregnancy to come up with a game plan in case of an emergency. What was next? Do I wait and see my doctor Monday morning? Do I rush to the hospital? Am I in labor? Call an ambulance? Accept that at this point in the pregnancy that the babies may already be gone? There was no emergency plan for 16 weeks gestation. There were no pre-packed bags to grab on the way out. There was no calm moment to take in our home one last time, just the two of us. There was only panic and fear. Complete chaos dancing in my mind.

In some ways this day was more frightening than the day I delivered at just 23 weeks. I'm not sure why. Perhaps because there was no warning. There was no mental preparation or plan for this moment. When you enter into a situation that wasn't planned and poses great tragedy, there's almost no recovering from the initial shock. In this particular moment, my fear was bigger than my faith. I could not remove my eyes or thoughts from what had happened and what it meant for the future of our daughters.

In these tough, scary, and challenging situations, people are quick to advise you that God will never give you more than you can handle. It sounds nice, but this is not true. There is no verse in the Bible that says this. It's merely an attempt to psychologically encourage someone that they can do it, but by falsely using God's intentions. Why would we ever need God if all situations could be handled independently?

Shortly after being admitted to Labor and Delivery and learning that if my girls had any chance of surviving I needed to first, not go into labor and second, to be on bed rest at least until 24 weeks gestation. At 16 weeks, 24 weeks sounds like it's years away. Just making it through the weekend was already going to be the biggest challenge of my life and now the best case scenario was laying there for the next eight weeks. This realization quickly taught me that I could not do this on my own. I needed God every day and every second of the day for the next eight weeks minimum. He was faithful to be there and provide. Through nurses, doctors, out of town family continuously there, friends that visited and brought food, family, friends, and strangers that prayed, keeping contractions away, keeping infection away, and keeping the girls in place while helping them to grow daily. It was a tough seven weeks being on hospital bed rest, but a lot of beauty was also revealed through God's help. 

Waking up on Halloween 2014, a year later wasn't even comprehendible. But here we are. We're living. We're smiling. We're laughing. We're moving forward. Our hearts are always a bit broken and empty from the pain of the loss of our Mary Elliott, but our hearts are also overflowing with love, happiness, and gratitude as we watch Sadie Ann grow and thrive. This is not the picture of my family I imagined a year ago, but I'm also not perfect at writing life's stories. God is. And our story is beautiful.

Every Halloween from this point forward will remind me of the emotions and pain that I never could have predicted. It will always be a hard day as it was the start of an incredibly difficult journey. Tomorrow we face our first Halloween that will always trigger these memories. But tomorrow we also wake up thankful. For lessons learned. Faith that has grown. Thankful for the past year behind us. Thankful for the upcoming year ahead of us.  

A Bittersweet Week

The first picture of all four of us. 

At our gender ultrasound appointment, two days before my water broke, we discussed a tentative date to have a c-section with my doctor. She voiced that she recommend a c-section at 37 weeks for her twin moms and we agreed. So we went ahead and looked at a calendar, found my 37th week, and planned for that Monday, March 23rd. I thought, what a wonderful way to start a week. 

I expect that had everything gone the way we'd planned (ha!), we'd be taking home two beautiful, health baby girls this week. Instead of typing this, I'd be listening to two newborn girls, using their perfectly healthy lungs, to scream and cry - alerting us that they are hungry or want to be held. But I'm not. I'm surrounded by late-night silence. A cruel reminder that things did not go the way I prayed they would. 

That being said, given everything that has happened in the past five months, I'm incredibly grateful to be able to hold and love on a relatively healthy baby. It may only be twice a day, with limited amounts of time to keep her out of her isolette, but it's more than I could have asked for. It's more that what statistics say I should have. And soon enough, I will no longer be surrounded by late-night silence. 

For that I am grateful. 

It is a bittersweet week. 

Birth Story: Twins at 23 Weeks

Monday, December 15, started out like every other day since starting my bed rest. I was awake when Chris would leave for work - he spent every single night at the hospital with me, so we had our own bed rest routine. Around this time, my nurse would come in for my 6am medication - and after that, I would have my quiet time. I'd read Jesus Calling and spend some time in prayer. Every morning I thanked God for a new day, which meant another day behind us; I prayed for our girls and their specific needs and I prayed for Chris. Me being on bed rest was just as trying on him as it was me, if not more.

After my quiet time and the local news, my doctor came for her morning rounds. We chatted; talked about how exciting it was to be into my 23rd week and that in less than a week I'd be getting my steroid shots. We were both so excited for where I was and what the upcoming week meant.

After her visit, I closed my eyes and fell asleep until breakfast was brought in. Most mornings, I would be anxiously awaiting the delivery of my breakfast tray - but after my doctor left the room, I fell asleep. When breakfast was delivered, I remember being hungry and wanting to eat, but fatigue won and I fell back asleep. This never happened. I was always ready to eat.

This was the case throughout the day. I'd eat, then nap. Had my ultrasound, then nap. Got assessed by the nurse, then nap. Ate lunch, then nap. And that went on until the evening. I slept more this day than any other day. Looking back, I see God was giving me rest and preparing me for a long night and even longer day ahead.

Chris got "home" from work around 7pm. Once he ate dinner and settled in, we got out the computer. We'd been on a weekend binger watching The Killing on Netflix - and we were ready to dive back into the show.

As we started watching, I began to notice I was having several Braxton Hicks. I mentioned in previous updates, that I would have them fairly often, but it was never worrisome and my doctor was aware. Most days I would have 4-5 within an hour and then none the rest of the day. After subconsciously noticing that I was having several of them, I began to pay close attention. Within a 45 minute show, I had 10+ Braxton Hicks. I knew that was too many for that time frame, but I didn't think too much about it. I tried to steer clear of over thinking anything my body did. Let's be honest, when you're pregnant, you're hyperaware of any and everything your body does or feels. Even more so when on bed rest. So I always made an effort not to think too much - and definitely no Googling.

As we started a second episode, I noticed the Braxton Hicks continued and were more noticeable. I continued to brush it off because they still felt like the Braxton Hicks I'd been having for the past several weeks.

By the third episode, my Braxton Hicks began feeling different. My uterus was contracting, but instead of it being in the middle and upper portion of my belly, it was low. There was still no pain, just a change in their typical location.

After the third episode, we decide to call it a night.

I was laying in my bed, in complete silence and darkness aware of nothing else except what my body was doing. I began to realize that whatever I was feeling was becoming consistent and getting stronger. I grabbed my phone and watched the clock. Every four minutes, my uterus contracted. Each one a little stronger than the previous. I could feel pressure in my pelvic region that radiated to my back. After 30 minutes, I told myself, Ok, if I have one more, I'll call my nurse. I had another one, but I was in denial. One more, then I'll call her. Ok, one more.

I finally confronted what was going on and called my nurse.

I never called my nurse. My nurses knew I never called them. She popped her head into our dark room and the first words out of her mouth were, "Are you OK?"

I explained everything from the multiple Braxton Hicks to the worsening contractions. And from this moment on everything became a blur. For the next 8-12 hours, time stood still, yet it all happened in a flash.

She put the toco monitor on me, which measures contractions - and sure enough, I was having contractions four minutes apart. After my water broke at 17 weeks, the monitor showed I was having contractions, but never strong enough to the point that I felt them. I'm guessing I had contractions all day before giving birth, but never felt them until they were getting closer together that evening.

My nurse initially told me to start drinking as much water as I could, but it seemed like as soon as I reached for my water bottle, she had already decided I needed IV fluids. Once she got my IV going and called my doctor,  she gave me two shots, 30 minutes apart, to try and stop the contractions. The medication slowed them down. They were barely noticeable and further apart. A bit of a relief; however, this lasted for about an hour after the last shot. Then they came back. Stronger.

My nurse spoke with my doctor again at this point and she was given orders to check my cervix for any dilation. So she did. And after she did, she didn't say anything. So I asked.

Six centimeters.

My heart dropped. 

I had just noticed mild contractions and I was already six centimeters dilated. This can't be happening. She stepped out of the room to call my doctor again. When she came back into my room, she had my chart. My heart dropped again. She calmly told me I was going to Labor and Delivery.

If I've learned anything about myself since Halloween, when my water broke, it's that when I find myself in high, emotionally-charged situations, I go into shock-mode. I'm sure for everyone it is different, but for me, my shock-mode is a lot of different things, in no particular order. I'm calm. I'm freaking out in my head. I'm still. I react. I move forward. Then, in the blink of an eye, hours from when it all began, reality takes over and I cry.

As soon as she told me I was going to L&D, I went into shock-mode. My bed was being rolled out of room 205 and I was being pushed down the long, dark hall that led to the double doors of L&D. I was pushed through the double doors and passed by several familiar faces before entering into my room. None of us said anything, we just looked at each other. We exchanged silent looks that screamed fear and sadness; we knew what the near future held.

I was rolled into Room 11 that was already filled with several people. Two NICU beds were being prepared as I was being asked if I wanted an epidural or pain medication. What? I didn't know. Was I really about to have these babies? Somebody tell me what I need to do. I must have had a look on my face that read exactly that. One of the nurses informed me that the pain medication would reach the babies and could possibly make them lethargic if they were born - which would make things even harder for them.

At this point, a whole new level of shock hit me. I'm in L&D, talking about an epidural and delivering my babies. I had always wanted to have natural deliveries - I was even one of those women who considered a home birth, but these contractions were no joke. I'm not sure if I have a low tolerance for pain or if they were just that bad. They felt debilitating. I knew I didn't want my girls to be lethargic, so I got the epidural.

I was also given antibiotics, magnesium, steroid shots, and fluids. I had two dopplers and a toco on my belly. I spoke with many different people including the nurse anesthetist, a NICU nurse, my nurses, my OBGYN, a phlebotomist, my husband, and my mother in law; however, I don't remember much of what was said. I do remember asking the NICU nurse if she'd ever seen babies born this early survive. She told me she did, but I could read the sense of doubt in her voice and on her face.



At some point, things settled down. The room cleared out. Everything was set up. The room was ready for whatever the future held. So I tried to sleep. I wanted to take a break and escape the madness that had been going on for the past five, six, seven hours. But it was impossible.

All of a sudden it was shift change. My night nurses were leaving me. Surprisingly, I found myself scared and anxious about the fact that those who were with me since all this started so many hours ago weren't going to be here. I clung to them. I didn't want them to leave. They had gotten me through the chaos and all settled in my new room. For some reason, them leaving made me uneasy.

Shortly after shift change and getting acquainted with my new nurses, my OBGYN came in again - she had checked me earlier that morning when I first got into my new L&D room and I was still six cm, but she wanted to check my cervix one more time before she headed over to her office for the day.

She checked.

I was completely dilated.

She told me in a very quiet, calm voice that she could feel Mary Elliott's head and arm and that she was ready to come out. I felt tears running down my face. I called out Chris's name. Between my tears and my doctor beginning to suit up, he knew too.

Just like that. I was going to deliver. Within seconds, before I could even process what just came out of her mouth, she was dressed in blue from head to toe, there was a table full of sterilized tools at the end of the bed, and my legs were bent up.

There I was, four months before any of this should be happening - my husband holding my hand, a nurse at each of my legs, and my doctor at the end of the bed saying, it's time to push. 




I found it incredibly difficult to really know if I was pushing because of the epidural. The coaching and encouragement I received from everyone during the pushing let me know I was doing something right. So I kept on.

I pushed. Maybe three or four times… and there she was.

Our first born daughter. I burst into tears that both celebrated the life of our child, but also feared for the future. She was out. No longer safe inside of me. She was impossibly small. I could only see tiny hands and tiny feet over my belly that still housed Sadie Ann. I cried. And cried. I was overjoyed to see her, but scared because all odds were against her. I could no longer do anything for her. She was taken across the room to her NICU bed where it seemed like dozens of people were surrounding her. I laid my head back and prayed for her.

WIthin minutes my doctor looked up at me and said Sadie Ann was coming too. Before I could even process that Sadie Ann was coming too, she broke my water and told me to start pushing again. So I pushed. Pushed. Pushed. And there she was. Four minutes later. Our second born daughter. I could see her a little bit better. She was moving and kicking. Then quickly whisked away to her NICU bed.

The room was chaotic once again. Lots of voices talking at one time. People in and out. Surrounding both of our girls. People cleaning up the bed. Asking me to roll left, roll right. Taking out my epidural. Taking off the dopplers. Cleaning me up.

Just like that it was all over. I was no longer pregnant. No longer on bed rest. I could no longer provide a calm, safe environment for my girls. I could only lay there and watch the backs of several nurses as they did everything they could for two babies born 17 weeks early. 17 weeks early. 

Although in the moment, time did not seem to exist, it was after about 30 minutes of working on Mary Elliott, that her neonatologist came over to my bed. She told us that they tried everything that they could, but her lungs would not inflate. They were just too premature; too firm from the lack of fluid in the past seven weeks. She told us that she still had a heartbeat and thought it would be best if we held her rather than for them to keep working on her.

With tears pouring down our faces, we agreed.

A nurse brought her over. There she was. Finally in our arms.

Perfect. Beautiful. She was showered with kisses. Told hundreds of times how much she was loved. Told how proud we were of how strong she had been in mommy's belly. We smiled and celebrated the beautiful life we created. A life that God decided to place in our arms. How blessed to be hand-picked by God to be this little girl's parents during her short life here on earth.

Since this day, I often find myself overwhelmed with sadness, sometimes even anger, at how fleeting my time was with Mary Elliott. However, when those feeling strike, I redirect my thoughts to this fact: as she took her last breath on this earth and left my arms, she then opened her eyes for the first time and saw Jesus. My daughter never had to see or experience this broken world. She's only ever seen heaven. And although I selfishly want her here with me, I'm oh-so thankful she knows no pain or sorrow. Having faith and confidence in this makes it all bearable.

After our time with Mary Elliott, Chris went to the NICU to see Sadie Ann before she was transferred to a different hospital with a higher-level NICU that she needed. Before she left, the NICU transport team brought her by my room. I held her little hand and told her how much I loved her. Then she was off to what would be her home for the next several weeks to come.

Twin Pregnancy: 22 Week Update

Hello, 22 weeks!

As you can see in this picture, my little pink tee is getting tighter and tighter - which I love! I'm even starting to fill out in my upper abdomen area. These girls are growing!

This past week has been a good one, full of many blessings. As I've mentioned, the girls are receiving an ultrasound every other day. Last week, I ask my ultrasonographer what the babies were weighing. She told me ONE pound each! I could not believe it. They are a pound! Such a blessing.

Then this morning my doctor came in and told be they were both 1lb 2oz!!!

This past Friday morning the girls had an extra long anatomy scan - a typically anxiety-ridden exam. It was completed later in the morning, after my doctor had already stopped by for the day. It wasn't until the next morning that she pulled up the report in my room and read it to Chris and me… "No abnormalities seen in baby A; no abnormalities seen in baby B." There's nothing like getting that kind of news first thing in the morning. All praises to the Lord! What a beautiful report. She went on to tell us that Mary Elliott continues to grow and keep up with her sister. Despite her ruptured sac and lack of fluid, she continues to move about and grow. I'm such a thankful and proud mommy.

Friday morning also marked five weeks since the rupture. Five weeks! Unbelievable. And it marked five months pregnant.

Sunday the girls and I rolled over to 22 weeks - meaning we are now on the two week countdown to 24 weeks! I hope and pray these next two weeks we continue to remain stable, the girls continue to grow, no infections come about, and that the days don't all of a sudden start to slow down. Again, at 24 weeks, I get my steroid injections to help with the babies' lungs and they past the point of viability in which they have a chance of survival should they decide to come that early. I've advised them to stay put for several more weeks - let's hope they listen to their mommy.

My white blood cell count continues to remain stable, right at 13-14.

I've put on eight pounds since being admitted to the hospital. Which I attribute to three fully-loaded trays a day, snacks my doctor ordered me between all means, and the constant sweets and treats that friends and family bring me daily. 

This past week I spent the majority of my time taking online CEU classes. I needed to complete them anyway, but of course I received a letter in the mail not long ago that I was being audited by the state. So that just means I need to turn in some extra paperwork and turn it in earlier than what I would normally have to since it all has to be audited. Thankfully, I finished it all, my paperwork is completed, and was mailed out this morning. Shew!

Also in the last week, my sweet mother in law brought in some Christmas decorations to liven up my tiny room! I have a wreath on my door, garland on the mirror and bulletin board, and a precious Christmas tree. It's all just perfect!

Yesterday she brought in crafts for us to make a countdown to 24 weeks! It's in the shape of a banner with pom poms. We have it all made and set up - and each day, at the end of the day, we will cut off a pom pom until we get to 24 weeks. Then we'll make a new one that will count us down to 26 weeks… and so on. 

Another week has come and gone and it's all being overseen by the Lord. Every day it's increasingly obvious how He is right here with our little family. I thank Him daily for so many miracles, so many blessings, and so much love! 

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29:11

Twin Pregnancy: 21 Week Update

I have officially been in the hospital and on bed rest for over four weeks now - and on this past Sunday (November 30), I hit the 21 week mark! Which may not seem that monumental to most, but to have suffered a membrane rupture at 16w5d, it's a big deal. So Happy 21 Weeks to our precious little girls! 

I love seeing how much they grow in just one week!

I attribute all success in this situation to God and the non-stop prayer we have received since this happened. Medically speaking, there's really nothing that has or can be done until 24 weeks other than the antibiotics I received the first week and bed rest. I spend 90% of my day in the bed. I don't lay flat, but close to it. I am allowed to get up to use the bathroom and I can take a shower, sitting down, every other day. I've become extremely weak due to the lack of activity - so getting up to use the restroom and my shower days are all exhausting. But I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Enough about me. On to the babies. 

The girls get ultrasounds every other day and at each ultrasound I'm just amazed at the work God is doing. Despite our little Mary Elliott's (baby A) lack of fluid, she continues to grow, move around, thrive, and have a full bladder. All very positive things that are nothing less than daily blessings. She and her sister always measure within a day of each other and on this past Saturday, they both were 20w6d and weighed 12-13oz. This Monday morning they had their second anatomy scan and all looked great! One of my favorite things to see on the ultrasound is both of the girls moving, usually trying to cuddle - and we've seen both of them have the hiccups. So adorable. Fills my heart with joy! 

As far as my white blood cell count, it has remained stable at 13 for the past week - which is also an amazing blessing that infection is staying away. 

As we made our way into 18 and 19 weeks, I began feeling slight movements inside of me - they felt like bubbles and light flutters. As 20 weeks passed by, those flutters became more frequent and have recently turned into full-on karate kicks. The girls are tiny, but they can throw a punch. Sometimes it startles me and then makes me giggle. Since Sadie Ann has fluid, her movements are the ones I feel most often. Mary Elliot's movements aren't as frequent because of her limited space - and because of the lack of fluid around her, her movements feel more like pokes. No matter what I feel, I'm just so in love with both of their completely different feelings of movement and so thankful to feel them on a daily basis - even when they wake me up at 2a..m.. 

I've started having Braxton Hicks. I actually believe I've been having them for several weeks now - even a couple weeks before all this happened. When I first had them, I attributed it to the babies shifting around and just being anterior in the womb. However, my doctor mentioned last week that I may be feeling them soon. Since I'd never been this far along in a pregnancy, I had no clue what to expect and as I did my research on them, I began to realize that the tightness I'd occasionally feel maybe wasn't the babies moving about. In the past couple weeks they've definitely become noticeable and frequent. My doctor said that up to four an hour can be normal. Sometimes I have that many an hour and then sometimes I don't have any for several hours. She said that was normal too - easing my mommy brain.

I've also been so blessed to have my mom and mother in law stay with me every. single. day. since I was admitted. My mom took a month off from work and spent all of November here. She went home over the weekend and my mother in law traveled over to spend the next three (yeah, three!) weeks hanging out in room 205. Chris has spent every night since Halloween here with me without a single complaint. They've all been so selfless and generous with their time and I appreciate it more than what I could ever express. 

So that's some of our big updates as of 21 weeks. Our first big goal is still 24 weeks - which is the Sunday before Christmas. Once we make it to 24 weeks, I'll receive a set of steroid shots that will help with the development of Mary Elliott's lungs secondary to her lack of fluid which plays a crucial role in lung development. It will actually help with both of the girls' lungs in case they do come a lot earlier than planned. Lord willing, once we make it to 24 weeks and get the shots we can breathe a small tiny sigh of relief and then we will look on towards 26 weeks. Following a conversation about how much we both love Thanksgiving food, my doctor told me that if we can make it to 26 weeks she'll feel really good - turkey, gravy, and stuffing good.

We continue to pray and ask for prayers for our little girls.


The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.
Deuteronomy 31:8

Twin Pregnancy: Water Breaking Prematurely at 16 Weeks

A little over three weeks ago, on Friday, October 31, baby A's water broke. 

Early that morning, I woke up when Chris' alarm clock went off at 3:30a.m. and then a few times after that when he hit the snooze button. When I woke those different times, I noticed some pressure-type feeling I was having, but nothing too alarming or severe. I attributed it to a full bladder and the babies moving about. So around 6a.m., I finally got out of bed to use the restroom. I don't work on Fridays, so I planned on going to the bathroom and getting right back into bed. 

Well, those plans changed mighty fast. 

The bathroom is only three steps away from my side of the bed and when I stepped onto the tile, I felt a gush of water come out of me. There was no mistaking where it was coming from or what it was. I'd read in the past that some women feel as if they "use the bathroom on themselves." No. Thats not even remotely accurate. It was obvious. It was a gush of water that seemed to never stop.

I immediately turned on the lights and started yelling for Chris. I was yelling his name and screaming in desperation, "No! No! I don't know what to do! What do we do? What's going on?" I remember feeling like I should cry, but all I could do was scream. God knew what was going to happen that morning and instead of Chris leaving for work at 5a.m. as he usually does, he was still in bed that morning. 

I was only at 17 weeks, the end of 16 weeks actually. We had not planned for emergencies at this point because it was so early in the pregnancy. All we knew to do was go to the ER. So I threw on some jeans, my glasses, and the closest pair of shoes. I somehow remembered to grab my purse and then we were in the car. The hospital we needed to be at, the main labor and delivery hospital that my OBGYN is associated with, was at least 25 minutes away, but I'm pretty sure Chris got us there in 10 minutes. I was still in shock for the entire ride. The ride seemed to take forever, but no time at all. I don't remember what I was thinking in the car. I don't remember the ride at all. I don't even know if we talked. I remember getting in the car at home and getting out of the car at the ER entrance. That's it. 

I explained why I was there to the clerk, she immediately called the triage nurse. I heard her say, "Twin pregnancy, water broke at 17 weeks." I was starting to freak out again after she began to ask for things like my insurance card, license, date of birth… I immediately told her my husband could take care of all of this, he was parking the car, and I needed to be seen NOW. She was understanding and at about this time the triage nurse had made her way up to to get me. She took me into a little room and sat me down to start asking questions. 

As soon as I sat down, the adrenaline and shock of the situation left my body. I lost it. I cried. I was crying so much it was an extreme effort to answer any questions the nurse was asking me. Chris came into the triage area about this time and seeing him triggered even more emotions and tears. I was lost. I thought of how hard we'd worked to get to 17 weeks pregnant and knew it was all over. I was hopeless and devastated. 

They then moved me into an ER room where I changed into a gown and was immediately put on IV. After I was somewhat settled into the room, the nurse came in with the doppler to listen to the babies' heart rates. Up to this point all I knew was that my water broke and I figured the babies were either ready to come out or already gone. I didn't know. All I know is that it was the most beautiful sound in the world to hear both babies' heart rates in the 150's. We still didn't know what was ahead, but we did know we had two babies with strong heart beats. 

Ultrasound eventually came in to look at the babies. She couldn't say much, but we were able to see the screen. I watched baby B move and wiggle around as per usual and noticed baby A looked a little tight on space. We eventually found out that baby A's membrane ruptured prematurely. Medically speaking, it's called preterm premature rupture of membrane (PPROM) - which means the rupture happened before 37 weeks. In our case, it happened well before 37 weeks - extremely prematurely. 

After the nurses received orders from my OBGYN, I received a catheter (eek!), I was moved from the ER to the labor and delivery unit, and I was placed in a slight trendelenburg position. At the time, I didn't realize what was going on, but looking back I realize they put me in labor and delivery because it was most likely that I was going to go into labor within the first 24 hours and I would deliver 17 week old babies that wouldn't make it.

God was with me from the second I got out of my bed that morning at 6a.m. He continued to be with me and my little babies through that day and days to come. I did not go into labor. I did start to have very mild, barely noticeable contractions the following day, but they quickly subsided. I received three different antibiotics which successfully kept infections away. Infection was a main concern as it would most likely pose a great danger to both babies and myself. I'm still susceptible to infection with an open sac, but it was most likely to occur in the first seven days following the rupture. 

I've been in the hospital a little over three weeks now on bed rest. Both babies continue to have strong heart rates and are growing! My belly has doubled in size and at the latest ultrasound they were measuring over 20 weeks! Up to this point we have received countless miracles thanks to the power of prayer. In the past two weeks, all three of us have remained stable. Baby A is still without fluid, but is growing. Baby A does constantly have a full bladder and is making fluid, but because of the unhealed rupture, it leaks out. 

I pray daily and multiple times a day that God will place his healing hand on the ruptured sac. The concern with lack of fluid is decreased lung development as well as muscle tone. Although this has not happened yet, I do know God has been with both these little babies and me; we're just so happy to be at this point with growing babies. 

Baby B is in a separate sac that's currently full of fluid and not effected by this situation. 

Our current goal is to make it to 24 weeks, which will be the week of Christmas. At 24 weeks I will receive steroid injections that will help with Baby A's lung development. And 24 weeks is the point at which the babies are viable if they are born. 

I plan to document and share updates on this pregnancy via my blog. I hope you all follow along and I ask that if you have any time to please lift up my little babies in prayer. Specifically praying for baby A's need for fluid, resealed sac, and no infections for any of us!

This isn't the situation we pictured, but I know God had a plan set out for these two little babies before they were even thought of by Chris and me - and that gives us a great peace.