Before you proceed in reading this next entry, I must warn you that I have not hidden any detail about the trauma of loosing my babies. If you don't feel you can handle it, I would warn you now that it might just be easier for you not to read this entry. However if you do read on through this entry I will be honoured to of been able to share my story with you. I hope if you have suffered as I have that my story/our stories help us not feel so lonely about these moments we re-live.
My first night on the maternity ward, I can't tell you how much sleep I got but I can tell you I got enough to have a dream. This dream will stay with me forever and what I think it ended up symbolising to me later. Throughout the pregnancy I had thought that my twins were boys and therefore why they must have come to me in a dream as boys so I would understand. In my dream my grandfather (I call him Pop) was there, Bengt my DH and my twins (who's names if born boys were to be Cohen and Frazer). In this dream we were in the hospital on the maternity ward and my pop and DH were dotting over Frazer making baby sounds at him. I had taken Cohen off for a walk and propped him up on a pillow and a chair. That's when in my dream Cohen spoke to me and said "Pop and Dad are silly, don't they know that Frazer can talk." I don't remember any other details of the dream, but shortly you may understand why it had so much impact on me.
Other then having enough sleep to have a dream there really wasn't much other sleep that night due to being uncomfortable and having to use the toilet often and nurses coming into to do my obs. DH came back into the hospital that morning as soon as visiting hours allowed, he spent time with me and I was examined again by another doctor. I was told that I would be going downstairs later that day for a comprehensive ultrasound. I had asked if DH could attend the ultrasound as this was possibly the chance we had at confirming the sex of our twins. At the ultrasound the twins were showing strong heartbeats, my cervix was looking good, the twins were moving around but moved around so much that we couldn't get confirmation of their sex. So once again I felt assured that I had seen the twins on the ultrasound and they appeared to be fine. It did nothing for the pain I was suffering but I just tried to take solace they were ok and still something just not be right with me.
On my return to the maternity ward I am advised that they are changing me to a private room as I need to rest and they don't think its fair to me having to share a room with new mums and crying babies. I am thankful for the consideration and tell DH to go home everything is fine and I will try and get some rest. He asks me if I am sure and I tell him that I am in the best place if I'm not right and the twins are fine and tell him to go home and rest. Later that same afternoon I have one of my dearest friends come to visit me. I try my best in my ever increasing pain to catch up with her and listening to her updates. I keep excusing myself to use the bathroom and at one point just ask her to stop talking as I try to get a handle on the pain I am suffering. I decide at this point I can't handle it and I buzz the nurse in, her name is Karen. I tell Karen that I understand that I have had pain medication an hour ago but the pain is unbearable I need something else. She quizzes me about my pain and I just keep telling her its in my back and it is sooooo painful that I am going to loss my mind. She asks me if I think I am having contractions, if the pain comes and goes. I tell her since I haven't had a baby before I have no idea if its a contraction, its just pain in my back and it is the worst thing I have experienced. Just at about the time Karen decides she will go and speak to someone about my care plan, "I say hold on I feel like I just passed a clot or something". I tell her I'm going to the toilet! She tells me that I will just wait a second whilst she gets some gloves and she will come with me.
Now this is where things get hard to write these series of events........this is sooo hard, my breathing as I am about to type this is picking up and my heart is racing. So here goes.....
I get off the bed and I look back on the bed and I see a small wet patch. I recall not thinking to much of it and proceed to the toilet in my private room with Karen with me. I sit on the toilet and a big gush comes out, Karen who is now kneeling down in front of me says "Is that a pee?". "It doesn't feel like it", I say. Then the worse moment of my life happens I feel my body loose, and the life and literally the lives inside of me gush out of me. This is sooo hard to re-live and tell people!!!! I scream the most primal scream one could ever imagine, I believe I kept screaming and screaming no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. My nurse is witnessing this, my girlfriend is 6 feet away watching her best friend go through the worst moment of her life. I hear my friend scream "Please help." My girlfriend is pushed out the room and my room is filled with nurses. They are trying to get me to move off the toilet, I can't, I am like stone, I am a dead weight......I just can't I tell them. I don't know how but they were able to remove me from the toilet and onto my bed. My room has more nurses, more doctors in there. I am being poked, prodded, jabbed with needles. My husband is called by my screaming girlfriend out in the corridor and god knows how he makes it to the hospital in 8 mins flat (should have been at least 20min trip). He drives to the hospital not even knowing what has happen, other then being told to get there now. My poor DH walks into what I could only describe for him as being a war zone. I lay on the bed him hugging me and I am sobbing and saying "I'm sorry, I am so sorry." My placenta hasn't come away and the nurses and doctors are watching the clock and taking count of blood loss. I'm asked if I want to see my babies, they have been retrieved from the toilet and have been swaddled up like you would a newborn baby. I am in so much shock, I can barely breath, I just keep crying I can't, I can't, I can't. My DH decides he will and goes to the corner of the room with another nurse, I see him stand there with another nurse with her arm around him as he looks at his children and the love of my life is sobbing. This just hurts so much more now seeing my DH in this pain as well, I feel like I want to die. The call is made by the team of people in my room that I must go to surgery now, I must now have a D&C as my placenta just won't come away and I am suffering too much mental trauma. Off to theater I go and to sleep I am put for them to complete the procedure, Karen had come down with me and DH and gave DH support once I was wheeled away.
In that moment I could have gone to sleep and not cared if I ever woke up again.