My husband George and I had been married only four months when we decided to try to get pregnant. To our delight, it only took us one "serious" attempt to become pregnant. I took the home pregnancy test and was thrilled to see the positive sign. I went to my regular family physician who sent me to my OB/GYN. My OB decided at my first visit that I should have an ultrasound so I made an appointment to have one in a few weeks.
While awaiting the day for my ultrasound, I began to read the pregnancy books. Many of them addressed the subject of twins, and I would always skip those sections. I never gave it a thought that I could be having twins. Things like that just don't happen to me.
On June 23, 1999, when I was six weeks pregnant, I went to my first ultrasound. I went alone since my husband and I lived 50 miles away from my Doctor's office. The ultrasound tech started asking me questions like, "Were you treated for infertility?" and "Do twins run in your family?" I was stunned when she said, "You are having twins!" I honestly couldn't believe that God had blessed me with twins! I rushed back to work with my ultrasound picture and cried when I told my friends the good news.
My husband and our families were very excited to hear the news. I think my Mom and Dad were the most excited of anyone. My Dad made a big announcement at church that I was going to have twins. I kept wondering to myself why I had been given twins and had convinced myself that it was a gift to my husband because he had lost both of his parents at an early age.
We were hesitant to prepare for the birth of our twins until I had my second ultrasound at 16 weeks gestation. We discovered that both babies were boys and everything looked fabulous on the ultrasound. They were both growing like they should and all organs were developing fine. We finally started to prepare for 2 babies. We attended a "Marvelous Multiples" class at the hospital and even bought 2 car seats. I started to buy lots of boys clothes at garage sales because I was going to need it.
Then, on October 11, when I was 22 weeks pregnant, my world came crashing down. I had a routine ultrasound scheduled and my husband decided to skip this one since he had been at the previous one and everything was fine. I knew something was wrong when I saw Baby B. I knew his heart was not beating. I could not bring myself to ask the ultrasound tech and she never said a word. I had to go into a examination room and I knew the whole time what the Doctor was going to say. The Doctor walked in the room and said, "I'm afraid we don't have good news today. Baby B has died."
With those words, my life changed forever. My Dad came and picked me up from the Doctor's office and I cried the entire 50 miles home. I was ordered to stay home from work until my delivery. The Doctor gave Baby A a 50-60% chance of surviving. He warned me of all that could go wrong while carrying a deceased fetus. But, there was nothing they could do but wait.
While I was waiting, I had to go through the agony of telling friends and family that Baby B had died. I felt so many emotions that I had never felt before. I was devastated to lose a baby, but I tried to remain strong because of the surviving baby. I felt guilty to mourn the loss of one baby because of the one that was living. I would lay in bed for hours and concentrate on my baby to make sure he was moving. I would panic if 5 minutes went by and I didn't feel him move. I would go into the nursery and sit for hours wondering why this happened to me. I still had people ask me about the twins because they had not heard the news yet. I cried every day.
My OB had sent me to a specialist to complete my pregnancy. I had ultrasounds every week and thanked God with every ultrasound because Baby A was still alive and well. One week before Christmas 1999, I went into an ultrasound to discover that the amniotic fluid was low around Baby A. My Doctor sent me home for Christmas with instructions to return Tuesday after Christmas. I had another ultrasound that day and discovered that the fluid level had decreased even further. My Doctor put me in the hospital to give me steroid shots so that he could induce labor.
Three days after my admission to the hospital (New Year's Eve), I gave birth to my twins. Garrett was born at 11:07 pm and Isaac at 11:16 pm. I only glanced briefly at Isaac and asked them to take him away. Garrett had been whisked away to Neonatal ICU because he was born eight weeks early. He weighed 4 pounds, 4 ounces but was breathing on his own and doing well. I have very little memory of that evening. I think the stress of the previous three months had finally taken its toll and I fell asleep almost immediately after delivery. I thought it was over.
The next morning, I went to visit Garrett in NICU and broke down when I saw his little ID bracelet around his ankle that said "Twin A." There was no Twin B. I realized then that it would never "be over."
Garrett spent 15 days in the hospital before coming home. He is now 6 1/2 months old and is doing very well! We count our blessings every day. I still struggle every day with the loss of Garrett's twin. Whenever Garrett reaches a milestone, I always think of what should have been. I know that my life will never be that same. I love Garrett dearly, but I will always wish that his twin was with us too.
I hope that the pain will subside a bit as time goes by. I hope that I can keep Isaac's memory alive. I really don't have any answers. I just take it one day at a time. There is one thing that I DO know for sure: We will always have a Guardian Angel.
In memory of Isaac . . . Garrett's twin brother December 31, 1999
Written by Sarah Young