I don’t know how I managed to fall asleep the night before
the babies came, but somehow I did. At least for a little while.
At 5 a.m., we got in our car for the drive to Kenosha. The
normalcy of the drive was surreal—our favorite songs playing on the stereo, me
in the driver’s seat, a big cup of hot coffee in my hand, and Michelle riding
shotgun. However, the situation was decidedly not normal—the next time we were
in the car together, God willing, our twin boys would be in the backseat.
In our hospital room, a calm, efficient nurse went about her
business asking questions, getting signatures on forms and attaching all kinds
of tubes and medical equipment to Michelle as she lay in the hospital bed. I
paced the room – drinking coffee at a rapid pace – occasionally sitting, with my
emotions swirling—a frenetic mashup of excitement, fear and uncertainty.
August 22, 2017, the day our lives would change forever, was a Tuesday.
We knew Michelle was pregnant and we were anxious and eager for our first appointment—the official start of this journey.
I arrived at the hospital and met Michelle. As we sat in the waiting room, I fidgeted and bit my nails, nerves washing over me, wave after wave. Our first appointment that day was supposed to be with our doctor, but as these things go, she was in a delivery and was unable to meet with us.
Still, we met with the nurse to complete a lot of those first appointment items that were all new to me. One of those items was the attempt to hear heart tones on the fetal Doppler. Our nurse had trouble finding anything … as she moved the implement, we just heard static. She left, and my nervousness grew.
Shortly, she returned with another nurse who she said was better at finding heart tones at this stage. That nurse located a heart tone rather quickly and the second I heard it, my eyes welled up and I looked at Michelle and saw tears in her eyes. Read More