Saturday, July 11, 2009


One year ago today, I was lying in bed pregnant as can be, and was woken by an unnerving sensation that I was leaking fluids. It was one in the morning, and I was 28 weeks pregnant with the twins. I went to the bathroom to confirm my suspicions, then called my midwife who I'd only met twice before. Her calm advice to wait until morning didn't sit well with me - I'd read way too much about twin pregnancy and my experience with perusing dual care with both a homebirth midwife and the department of maternal and fetal medicine at the hospital had brought with it enough sense of caution to heed a late-night warning. With much hesitation and feelings of guilt about waking a friend from precious sleep, I climbed the stairs and called out to Korin. We drove to the hospital, exchanging reassuring thoughts - it was nothing, they'd check me out and I'd be home in a few hours.

Sadly, that wasn't to be. My most terrible, vivid memory from that long night came about an hour after arriving at the hospital - I had just been examined and was still lying on the awful gyn-ey (get it? gurney for ladies? why must we endure dumb humor on top of an already uncomffortable situation??). The doctor was wondering if my water had broken, and was about to do a swab to confirm. And suddenly, horrifyingly, Baby A's bag of waters unmistakenly broke.

Amniotic fluid rushed from me, and with every breath, every sob, continued to flow. I remember lying there, crying uncontrolably, saying to Korin that I felt as if my babies' lives were pouring out of me. The resident who was with us when this happened told me that I would likely deliver the twins within 24 hours. It was truly one of the most grief-filled moments of my life. Twenty-eight weeks, zero days. I knew the risks of delivering that early.


Of course, we all know how this story ends. I hope you don't mind as I recall these things here for myself. I haven't given a lot of deliberate attention to the stressful birth of Shoghi and Maxwell, either within myself or here on the blog. I find, though, that now that these hot days of summer are passing by, I am keenly aware of what was going on a year ago. My gratitude for how things turned out is beyond measure. At the moment, though, it felt very precarious, fragile, and uncertain... Since I have never told their birth story, I figure this is a good place as any to start.

(photo by Amy Crawford)


  1. wow celeste. i can imagine some of the feelings. you've always seemed so focused on your here and now as if they were full term babies who thrived from the word go. i have to say it's kind of comforting to hear some of the other side of it. i feel bad for how hard i found prematurity, but it's easier knowing it's 'normal' to feel that way. i am dreading our first anniversary tbh. just recently i've been pondering on all the things i wish i'd done differently. i wish i'd protected my son better to keep his cord in tact (maybe he wouldn't have needed ventilation) i wish i'd kangaroo cared them more, esp. my daughter, etc etc

    so many battles it's felt like. mostly the battle to accept things as they were and are.

    hugs to you for these coming weeks. i remember how amazed we all were at your courage whilst keeping your little ones inside. and how we prayed for just a few more days for the steroids to work, then when those days had passed, we prayed a few more *weeks* !!!


  2. Yep, it's hard to go back and think about it all... Since day one I've put it out of my mind so as not to have to hurt too much thinking about it - even though it all turned out well. I hope writing about it helps you heal. I know nothing will have the power Max and Shoghi have to help you heal, though. You all are a wonderful family!

  3. I remember too, the daily prayers I said that you'd be able to hold them in just a tiny bit longer. And then when the annoucement came that they were here, such gratitude that you'd made it so much further than any of us thought.

    And NOW look at them! Such precious baby boys!