Monday: Two Birthdays

Wow. What a day. At once, one of the best and one of the worst days of my life so far.

Where to start? Well aside from the obvious, a good place to start is the 11th May. The dating scan where we discovered that we weren't just expecting a child, but two children. Sharing a placenta, so identical twins. The unfurling weeks and scans would reveal identical twin boys and the fact that they were DiMo (Diamniotic-Monochorionic), not the most risky (a classification reserved for Mo-mo's). But still with their fair share of potential issues. Principally, Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome (TTTS). This is where one Twin is greedy and takes more of their fair share of the blood flow from the placenta.

And so, every fortnight we trotted over to Stoke Mandeville hospital near Aylesbury (coincidently where I was born) for extra checks to keep an eye on TTTS. These scans showed that Twin 2 was smaller than Twin 1, but that we weren't to worry as identical twins would never be exactly the same. One of the last scans diagnosed a blood flow issue to one of the Twins brains; amazing things those scans. So, Sarah was admitted the following day and we waited for an available slot in the elective caesarian list. That slot came this afternoon at 4:30pm.

Difficult to describe your emotions, in theatre, scrubbed up, holding your Wife's hand, waiting. Trepidation, nervous, happy, excited: they all apply. And the cut, the rummaging, Sarah reporting feelings of movement (the spinal turned off pain, just not rummaging). And the listening. I remember listening out.

There was a cry. And another. Was that the same cry as the first one?

I was called round to cut the umbilical cords. To meet my sons for the first time. My god they were beautiful. But so completely different. The larger, red, puce almost, obviously Twin 1, Daniel Peter, 2075g (4lb 9oz). The smaller, very pale, almost white, Twin 2, Alexander James 1620g (3lb 9oz). I cut Alex's cord. But was aware of an urgency in the staff. They wanted to take them away to check them out. They wheeled them past us in a double incubator, paused for a moment so Sarah could see them and they were off.

I went back to hold Sarah's hand as she was stitched up and helped wheel her to a check up area. We stayed there for a half an hour or so, nervously grinning at each other. We were parents.

Daniel being ventilated

I can't really remember what happened after that. Certainly can't remember who told us. Alex was fine, but there was something wrong with Daniel. He wasn't breathing so he was being ventilated. Gradual drip feeding of information as X-rays were performed and tests done. He had a diaphramatic hernia. A hole in his diaphram allowing his intestines into his chest cavity. The x-ray showed about 90% of his lung cavity full of the unmistakable curvy, waving tube of an intestine.

Th next few hours merge. I remember discussions about Daniel requiring a transfer, calls to Birmingham, Great Ormond Street and John Radcliffe in Oxford to determine bed availability. I remember crying down the phone to my parents and Sarah's parents, giving them the news as I had it at that moment.

Sarah, Alex and the silliest hat in the world

There was about an hour where we wheeled Sarah down to the Special Care Baby Unit (SBCU). Both boys were there in their incubators, Daniel with his extra ventilator box, looking over him, Alex in his funny hat. That was nice, together as a new family. Sarah holding Alex for the first time.

Sarah was amazing. I'm so glad she's my Wife. She bore it so well given she'd just had surgery and was reacting to the anesthetic. She needed to sleep off the drugs and I couldn't do anything there. So I drove home in the dark. And cried.