On June 28, I was taken to labor and delivery with increased frequency and intensity of contractions. I was up to one every 3-4 minutes. After a few hours of that, and no relief from meds, I was moved to the other hall. And my contractions promptly settled down. That Friday was the best day I had in quite a while with regard to contractions. At that moment I decided the boys were going to be stuck inside of me forever and I would spend 15 weeks total in labor. We returned to our normal room that night. And, of course, contractions resumed immediately. Literally, within 20 minutes I was in severe pain again.
The following day was fairly typical for me until around 4 when things started picking up. I assumed it was more of the same, my "new normal" according to the doctor. So I requested my daily terbutaline shot to help with intensity and was informed my heart rate was too high. (I was at 120 resting. Maybe my body was trying to tell me something??) So he said the only thing he could do was a physical vaginal exam, which hadn't been done since the pessary. I almost refused, thought I knew for sure everything would be fine. And after 6 weeks of constant contractions I was so sore I didn't want anybody in my personal space. Well, good thing I didn't refuse because we were told at 5:30 that I was going into labor. Doctor calmly said, "we'll do a section tonight" like it was nothing. I freaked momentarily. Then I was put on magnesium sulfate and promptly lost all ability to think at all.
We returned to labor and delivery at 6:45. After a strong reaction to the mag, it was stopped early. But it helped significantly with my contractions so I thought maybe we could wait another few days. I could handle the pain. The nurse said that wasn't an option as the risk of infection was too high. We were told at 7 that they would be taking me to surgery at 7:30. We both freaked. Then prayed. Then cried. Then prayed some more. I had carried the boys as long as my body would possibly let me.
By the time I got to the OR, I was 5 cm dilated. Everything was set, I got my spinal, Andrew was brought in, and away we went! Warren Andrew Savant was born at 7:54 pm on June 29, 2013. He weighed 2 lbs 5 oz and came out screaming, one hand raised straight up. He did it! (He was the one wedged in my pelvis causing my late pregnancy issues). Dean Michael Savant was born at 7:55 and weighed exactly the same, 2 lbs 5 oz. Our calm baby came out the same way, nice and relaxed. Andrew saw them as they were pulled out and told me they were beautiful. I was taken to recovery and sent Andrew to stay with the boys.
After some vague amount of time, maybe an hour? Maybe several? I was wheeled back to see my boys. They were just perfect. They didn't look so tiny to me, all swaddled in their isolets. And they were so cute! I couldn't believe I was looking at my boys! That I could see their little bodies outside of me. And that they were okay. More than okay, they looked so good! I fell in love instantly. That same switch as with Reagan was flipped. These are my children, and I knew in that moment I would do anything for them. You know it before then, but there is just something so special about the first time you lay eyes on them.
After that there were some days of physical recovery for me balanced with trying to see the boys and spend time with them, share time with family, allow myself to heal and rest, etc. All I wanted was to sit with my boys, but my body just wouldn't cooperate. I've come a long way in the past 10 days with healing and only really feel it by the end of the day. Time is now spent trying to figure out how to be a mom to 2 babies when I can't really do anything for them, can't hold them, and recently can't really even touch them. It breaks my heart.