We had scheduled the c-section for October 22, but God seems to be in the business of changing our plans quite frequently.
At 2:20 am on Saturday morning I woke up (like I always do when I have to roll over) and felt the urge to go the bathroom, I stood up and started the four steps it takes to get there and was already wet before I reached the toilet. Strange that all of the sudden I had no control over my bladder is what I was thinking. I went and laid back down, but this same thing happened again, and this time I knew something wasn't right.
I walked slowly into the living room to get to the computer, and Kevin was laying on the couch wide awake because he hadn't been able to sleep. I looked at him and asked what he was doing, he looked at me and asked the same question. I said, "Umm...I think maybe my water broke, or I'm leaking a lot of fluid."
"We need to go to hospital."
"Well, let me just call the hospital, maybe my water didn't break."
"Okay, go ahead and call."
I looked up the number, called the hospital, and after a short conversation with them I said, "They said I just need to come in." My husband is so patient with my stubbornness.
I called my mom to come be with the boys, and we arrived at the hospital by 3:45. The nurses took me to a room, put heart monitors on the babies, one for contractions, and checked my cervix. They assured me my water did break, and I was dilated to a one. They left to call my doctor; I called my mom to give her an update, and the nurse came back into room and said, "We're going to section you in thirty minutes, your doctor said 15, but I told him we don't even have an IV in yet."
Kevin began the first round of text messages and phone calls to let people know what was happening, while my mom tried to find someone else to come be with the boys so she could quickly come to the hospital.
It's amazing what a nursing staff can do in thirty minutes, because by 4:30 I was on the operating table being swabbed with iodine on my back and belly. Once I laid down the famous blue curtain was drawn up. On my right side about eight nurses stood ready to receive the boys, on the left were four more nurses for the surgery, behind me was my amazing anesthesiologist, holding my hand right beside me was Kevin on my side of the curtain, next to him, my doctor.
Dr. Mirabile told me I would feel tugging, pulling, and jumping. Jumping? Yes, jumping. And I did. Amidst everything I was feeling, I was waiting to hear something. I stared into the blue curtain, and scanned Kevin's eyes as he watched intently what was going on on the other side of the curtain. Finally, I heard it.
A baby's cry.
It was Eli. At 5:05 am, the doctor pulled him out to be a part of this world and just a minute later Evan was letting us know he was there too. For months now, Eli has been called "the little one," no longer, he weighed 4lbs.4oz. and was 17 inches long and Evan was 4lbs.2oz. 16 1/2 inches long. In a few moments they were bundled in blankets and nestled together in an incubator and wheeled out from the OR to the NICU.
Meanwhile, my mom had her own adventure in getting to the hospital. Kevin's parents were out of town, my dad was out of town, my brother's phone was dead, and eventually it was one of my best friends who came to relieve my mom so she could rush to the hospital. She made it to the fifth floor and was looking around at the exact moment the twins were being rolled down the hall to the NICU. We couldn't have planned it better.