On the very first day of the beach trip, we walked in the sand at sundown. A storm hung over our heads. We walked and found joy alongside the shore, despite the storm surrounding it. My dad captured a picture of us, commenting that we would overcome our storm. I never realized that my storm was hardly out of the rain. The clouds had just begun to turn grey. I wasn’t weathered yet. I would be tested to find a new path in the midst of the storm.
After my day of labor on June 14th, 2021, I stayed in the hospital sixteen more days, fourteen of which I wasn’t allowed to walk. Each day in the hospital was a routine; wake up, run tests, ultrasounds, heart rates, blood pressure, watch Netflix, eat a little food, drink lots of water, and go to sleep as many times as my body needed. With a still body and a busy mind, most of the days felt as if they were all the same. Therefore, it’s easiest to recollect what happened and how it felt in the form of journal entries. Although, I didn’t journal, not even once, in the hospital. Thankfully, my dad kept a collection of events for me to read back on.
June 15th-June 19th 2021
I woke up today, feet angled past my hips. I didn’t want to wake up. Waking up would feel like my nightmare of life was a reality. It was my reality. I woke up anyway, accepting that I had to figure out what ways I could help my babies survive this problem. I still don’t understand the problem completely. Last night barely felt real.
My body is sore and I’m uncomfortable. I’m not allowed to move, but I don’t mind at this point. There is nowhere that I could go to walk away from this problem.
The doctor informed me that Maria’s feet are no longer in the birth canal. Because of my strict sleep position, she was able to move back up. So, as of now, their fluids have reached a normal level and their heart rates remain healthy. We have hope that last night was a scare.
We all share this hope. One day they will live to hear the storybook we bought for them, “I Wish You More.” Although we didn’t bring it on the trip, my dad went get one just so that we could read to my belly.
As the gloomy days go by, I begin to remember why I choose this book for my twins. The three words, “I Wish You More” caught my eye in a store in my early pregnancy. I read the book and knew that that phrase was a phrase my twins would have memorized by the end of their lives. The phrase holds so many lessons. I want my children to always want more for themselves and for others.
When someone hurts my babies, I will wish them more happiness.
When they are joyful, I will wish them more.
When they feel loved, I will wish them more.
When they aren’t motivated, I will wish them more.
Another morning in the hospital: I wake up, early morning, to a nurse we call “super nurse.” It felt nice to see a familiar new face. You see, each morning I wake to new doctors, or new nurses because the shifts keep on changing. But she stays for me.
Coming from a small town, I’m so used to knowing each one of my healthcare workers. Being away from home, in this situation, has placed me outside of my comfort zone. Each shift that changes, I meet a new face that I have to trust with my life and my children’s lives. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but it is something I will have to get used to because I have already stayed longer than expected.
From each ultrasound we get, Maria is becoming more and more likely to deliver soon. I finally got accepted into a hospital that specializes in preterm labor. My current doctor plans on transferring me as soon as he can, but there is a huge tropical storm coming into Florida, so my time may be delayed.
The day I transfer to Pensacola: Leaving the hospital today was harder than I had imagined it would be. After a few days of shift rotations, I had finally gotten used to a few nurses. Leaving those nurses was a sad, yet hopeful, goodbye. Once the ambulance arrived, I was carried onto a gurney, rolled out of the hospital, and secured into the back of the ambulance vehicle.
The entire ride to Pensacola, it was pouring rain, which didn’t help my nerves. I had this awful feeling of discomfort while I waiting to get to our destination. As soon as we got to the hospital, a gush of fluid is let out, my water seemed to have broken again.
After I checked into Labor and Delivery Perinatal Special Unit (PSU), I was introduced to my new healthcare providers. I take a deep breath now, as I sit in my newest (much smaller) four walls. How long will I have to call this place my home? When will I get to bathe on my own? When will I get to walk? When do I get to leave?
You see, as I imagine taking on my battles in these four walls, I begin wishing myself more. I wish myself more in the midst of the storm.
There are more stories to come on my days in the hospital.
Citations
Rosenthal, Amy Krouse, and Tom Lichtenheld. I Wish You More. Chronicle Books, 2020.
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