November 15th, 2019 I took a pregnancy test and it was positive. We wanted a baby, and as soon as we decided we fell pregnant.
That was simple enough I thought lol. My husband was preparing for TDY and now I’d have something to refocus my attention while he was a way.
The first few weeks were pretty simple, I had cravings, and a little morning sickness but nothing too out of the norm. It was right around the December 2nd Marine Corps Ball when I began feeling extreme changes. It felt as if a semi-truck had hit my entire body, and there was no letting up.
For weeks I thrived in pain, puking throughout the entire day, and running back and forth to the ER because I honestly felt like my body was rejecting the baby. As the weeks went on, I became more hopeful and just prayed to make it to our first scheduled appointment.
January 3rd, was a game changer for my husband and I. We were exactly 10 weeks pregnant, and this would be the first time we would get to see the baby on an ultrasound. I joked about it being twins for a little bit, and then I became serious about it because everyone I had talked to about it had not experienced the severe symptoms that I was having carrying my child.
”Is this your first ultrasound the doctor asked?”
We answered yes a little nervous because why would a doctor ask us something like that while staring at the ultrasound screen.
“ Well, Congratulations, you’re having twins!!” says the doctor all excitedly.
“You called it baby!” exclaims my husband to me all excited and optimistic.
I immediately went inside my head to panic, because what in the world was I going to do with two?!
The previous weeks had been so hard! My rib cage was bruised from the stretching, my hips ached terribly, and I was having to rotate different suppositories because of the hormonal imbalance I was experiencing.
What would life be like?
After about a 20 minute pep talk, I was sold on the ideal of it! I like a challenge so why not! Plus I banked on it being both a girl and boy so maybe I wouldn’t feel obligated to have anymore after them.
We announced to everyone that we were having twins, and begin planning on the best approach for this life altering event.
My pregnancy was already throwing us curve balls between being diagnosed with chronic bacteria vaginosis, to puking up stomach bile every morning because eating was impossible.
The doctors a month later referred me to a maternal fetal specialist for closer monitoring due to carrying multiples. We had appointments every 2 weeks, and between appointments I found myself there often because I just felt extremely bad all the time!
Even with my body feeling like absolute crap, the twins were doing absolutely incredible and growing at a phenomenal rate. At our 18wk scan we found out that we were carrying a girl and a boy!
A.k.a, a “Double Whammy”, or “Home Run” by the majority who found out.
At our 22wk appointment I was told to expect to carry for maybe just 14 more weeks since multiples come usually early. We were so excited, and had a lot of donated baby items from our friends who were just as ecstatic as we were!
It all just happened so fast.
I was eating, and completing my online school work around 10am, only to be in the worst pain I could have ever experienced around 8pm on April 1st of 2020.
Earlier that day, I recalled taking a shower and seeing clear liquid steadily dripping out of me, but it wasn’t enough to warrant concern and didn’t have an odor.
I specify this because I had been battling chronic yeast infections as well as bacterial vaginosis the entirety of my pregnancy, and if they were to go untreated I would be putting my babies at risk.
Anyways, my husband had went out to the store to do our grocery shopping because I couldn’t do a lot of anything while I carried the twins, so I stayed at home. There were so many different things I couldn’t eat, and I was forced to take nausea medicine because I also had Hyperemesis gravidarum (HG).
HG is a severe form of nausea and vomiting, and let me tell you, it started from the time I found out I was pregnant until the time I birthed the twins. Simple smells such as eggs would have me hurling as if my intestines were trying to come up too!
I would never have a lot on my stomach, and I had to hydrate a little extra just to have enough electrolytes for both me and the babies.
I can remember my husband coming home, and he had bought brand new sheets because the ones we had were not comfortable for my pregnant self, but he began making the bed and I started gagging in pain.
This pain was rolling from my back to my stomach and would sit for about 5 seconds before backing off. He suggested we go to the hospital then, but I didn’t want to go only to be told “it’s a part of carrying multiples” because we literally lived at the hospital each week for symptoms I was unfamiliar with.
I decided to go to bed early, and couldn’t fall asleep because of how excruciating the pain was. It intensified around 11pm that night, and that’s when we made the call to head to the labor and delivery room.
As we were driving down the road, my stomach continued to tighten as the pain rolled from my back to the front. I could tell this wasn’t normal, but chose to let the doctors confirm whatever was happening. We checked into the hospital, and was immediately sent to the maternal wing so that they could run some tests and check on the babies.
We were told that everything was perfect with the babies, and that I was dehydrated and had a yeast infection for the 100th time during the pregnancy.
I felt like once again I had wasted mine and my hubby’s time because his job required a lot of his attention at the time and I didn’t want to add anymore to his plate.
After I finished the IV fluids they had given me, I was putting on my clothes when the doctor came in and noticed that I had not had a cervix check done.
If you’ve ever had a Pap smear, you’ll know that cervical checks are straight from satan so I was in excruciating pain! When he pulled his fingers out he had some weird stuff on his gloves and asked the nurse to send in another doctor.
It was at that moment that I began feeling the world close in around us. It was confirmed that our son’s sac was hanging out of my cervix, and that I would have to be admitted for a possible emergency delivery that night!
I would have never guessed I was in labor because I had never heard of back labor before. Apparently the liquid that I was seeing come out of me earlier that day and throughout the week was my son’s amniotic fluid, but he still had plenty of fluid surrounding him so he wasn’t at risk.
I lost my ability to feel and react because I didn’t want to cause any stress to our babies. I was put on the horrendous magnesium, and everything became a blur from there. The magnesium was meant to help spread out contractions while assisting with maturing the babies lungs and brain faster prior to delivery.
In my case, our little ones had just barely made it to viable having been 23 weeks and 5 days at the time, so we had the option to have them resuscitated and treated immediately following birth.
For 4 days I layed in a hospital bed alternating hips and tilted head down in an attempt to draw the sac back inside the cervix. I couldn’t eat anything solid, and I had to have an epidural put in to prepare for a delivery at any moment.
The only thing that kept me sane was being able to watch our babies jump on the ultrasound screen, and having my amazing husband Nate by my side every single minute of the day. What a blessing because he was truly the best advocate for us all!
On April 5th, I asked the nurse if I could attempt to sit on the pot because I hadn’t used the bathroom in over 4 days. She received the doctor’s approval and I did so. Two minutes into sitting down I could hear liquid pouring into the pot. I called for the nurse to let her know my catheter had come out, only for her to explain to me how that was not possible. The nurse instantly called the doctor, and she came in to check my cervix.
The membranes had ruptured completely and my son’s sac was breaking. An emergency delivery would now turn into an emergency Classical c-section because my daughter was turned horizontal. My uterus would need to also be cut vertically down the middle to get the babies out safely, which would decrease my chances of every having a vaginal birth due to the risk of uterine rupture.
To be honest it’s still all a blur, I just remember telling my husband and nurses that I couldn’t breathe. They gave me oxygen, and it just felt like something was constricting my airways. I could barely think, and I felt like I was dying. They drew some labs and found that I had a very low white blood cell count, and had developed a fever labeling it as chorioamnionitis.
On top of that, it was confirmed that my membranes had indeed ruptured, and had it not been for the bacterial infection, the plan was to deliver our son early, and re-stitch the cervix to deliver our daughter at a later date.
It all went quickly from there, I received a very painful spinal, and was so drugged up on magnesium that I can only remember me playing “He’s Able” by Tye Tribbett to the twins, and the announcement of our son’s arrival at 17:28.
Before going into delivery they informed us that Nate wouldn’t be allowed in since it was an emergency c-section and Covid had just became a big deal. Our daughter Ayla was delivered 2 minutes after our 1lb 11oz son Zion, and she was the only one to come out crying. Weighing 1lb, 10oz she was a ball of sass with a goal, and that was to live!
Our son’s heart never started, and after 20 minutes of attempting to resuscitate him, he was pronounced deceased. I didn’t witness any part of this because I was still on the operating table getting stitched back up, but my husband did. To this day, I still hate that he was by himself.
Ayla was immediately rushed to the NICU to be cared for, and that little cry gave me so much hope! I can’t tell you how much time passed, but as soon as I was returned back to my room the doctor came in to inform me of my babies statuses.
Zion had not made it, but Ayla was fighting.
I didn’t register that my son was gone, I held strong to the words Ayla was fighting and wanted to know when I could begin pumping. I sort of remember my husband coming in, but when I saw him a part of me died.
To see your one true-love, your best friend, your partner in crime be so tore up is the worst picture to ever have in your head. I’m still haunted to this day. He showed so much love and strength for us all throughout the entire pregnancy, and all I wanted to do was be a shoulder he could lean on. I wanted to carry his babies to safety, and I yearned to have him look at me in admiration for carrying not one but two of his babies.
As he stood their cuddling our son, I couldn’t process the loss so I admired Zion’s innocence. He was so tiny, with my nose and his daddy’s hands. Such a perfect little one. That same night we had him christened by the Chaplain, and I can’t remember the nurses name, but God forever bless her soul because she was outstanding!
This nurse held my hand the entire way, she even dressed our Zion and mourned with us all while being 30 weeks pregnant herself. She was carrying her own little rainbow baby after had experienced a loss at I believe 19 weeks, and that gave me so much hope!
Once everyone left the room, I was ready to meet my daughter. There was only one thing keeping me from falling apart, and that was the hope I had for Ayla! Nate wheeled me to the NICU and I can remember feeling nothing but anxiety and anguish.
This scene was even worse than the one I seen a few hours before. Our daughter had several different cords coming out of her, and a machine was pumping her lungs. I didn’t want to get too close out of fear of doing something wrong because the reality of her fragile state was overwhelming.
Nate was so so supportive even then, and did his best to reassure me that she was fine in her little ventilator. The NICU nurses was also very sweet, and let us know me that even the drops of liquid gold mattered because it would be what she needs to develop.
I had to refocus my energy off of the reality in front of me, and back to the task at hand. It was time to make milk for my baby. I had done so much research regarding breastfeeding, but I hadn’t had time to really look at pumping so I was thankful to have someone show me what to do.
My recovery was going to be a little longer due to the infections, and being weak from everything, but I wasn’t going to let that stall our daughter’s progress. Every 3 hours while in the hospital, we would wake up so I could pump, and then my husband would deliver it to the NICU.
I had established a routine in less than 12 hours following delivery!
Around 9am April 6th, 2020, we began meeting with different resources in the hospital to help us with our transition to parenthood. I can’t remember who all we saw because of all the strong pain medicines I was on, but I do remember talking about our son’s death certificate as well as registration for our daughter in Tricare.
So much needed to be taken care of, and the only one who could do anything was my husband who had also been sleep deprived, and had experienced the tragic event first hand less than a day ago.
Through it all he remained so positive, and that fed my energy to do the same! I remember the NICU manager coming in around 12pm to give us an update on Ayla. She had done well overnight, and they were going to do a brain scan and some other tests to see where she was at in her development to start a more thorough treatment plan.
They went over the many risks that came with being a micro-preemie, and explained how a baby born right around 24 weeks had around a 50% chance of survival (not including complications). To us, that was a chance and Ayla would be that 50% to survive, and the 1% to have a normal and health life.
Maybe a few hours later, the NICU manager as well as our birthing doctor came in to tell us news that would completely shatter my being.
Ayla had Grade IV brain bleeding, and no kind of science or technology was going to help her. That was the worst possible brain bleed to have, and her chance of living a normal healthy life was less than 1%.
It was then, that I think we both realized that we wouldn’t be bringing either one of our babies home. What kind of parents would we be had we chosen to put our daughter through torture just to have the title “mom” or “dad.” Parents have to make very hard choices for their kids at times, and we were going to have to do that for our Ayla.
They gave us the option to keep her plugged up, and continue treatment but we couldn’t live with ourselves knowing the hell she’d be put through. At around 6pm, after we had her christened, we got the opportunity to hold our baby without all of the cords around her. She was perfect!
She had her daddy’s features, and mommy’s sass! To give her a proper goodbye, we turned on “Rhiannon” by Fleetwood Mac and watched her slowly lose life.
This process is so detrimental for most because the infant does not instantly pass. It can take hours after administering the drug for them to finally pass, and I don’t think either one of us was mentally prepared to watch her pass the way she had.
April 7th, I was physically ready to finally go home, but not mentally. Leaving the hospital was absolutely awful because I came in with my babies and left with two death certificates, keepsakes, and packets on grief.
Covid had everyone quarantined so we didn’t have to worry about being bombarded for a little bit.
Family and friends did their best to give us space, and to be honest it was best this way.
The first few days were absolutely terrible. Our dog Aldo, could tell something was wrong and would whine around because he couldn’t hear the babies in my belly. I still experienced postpartum symptoms, the phantom kicks, and I struggled with my self-image.
My milk came in, and it was a terrible first experience because I no longer had a purpose for it. I had baby stuff all over the house, and I couldn’t stand to look at it so we put it all in the closet and shut the door.
On April 14th, 2020. We said our last goodbyes to Ayla and Zion and had them cremated where they would be together forever. Their ashes remain with us, and I’m so glad they do because it’s the only thing that makes me feel close to them.
I’m disheartened to remember wanting to spread their ashes in Okinawa because I thought this would help me find closure, but I now know that there’s no end to this chapter of despair.
Throughout the course of everything, we were able to get pictures taken of both babies and some with us together, and we received the most special keepsakes from the hospital and a few other special people in our lives.
When we could finally go out, I’d see babies and hate myself because that was supposed to be me.
It was never said why I went into preterm labor, but I know that my hormonal imbalance had an effect on how I carried the babies. Prior to pregnancy I was a bodybuilder, and had seasons of low body fat to high body fat. I also didn’t know that twins ran in my family due to lack of knowledge on my birth mother and father.
The doctor explained it as the chicken and egg. No one knows which came first, but I’ve always been reassured that it wasn’t my fault. It was hard not to blame myself because I had one job, and people made it seem like it would be easy.
Since being blessed with the twins, I have seen so many people have them. It’s almost like I live in my own purgatory at times. With all of this, being their mom was by far the hardest/most rewarding position I could have held and it hurts so bad.
Exactly 3 months after delivering the twins we fell pregnant again. February 20th, 2021 we were blessed with our double rainbow baby Josiah. He’s everything I imagined the twins would be. A loving personality like Zion’s and a rambunctious attitude like Ayla.
He’s so special, but there are days where he simply just doesn’t feel that void and sense of emptiness. I never wanted him to replace the twins, I knew after losing our babies that I definitely wanted to be a mom so that’s what happened!
I’m now working towards building who I am so that I can be in the present with my family. I’ve been grieving in phases, and there are moments where I feel at peace with everything, and moments where I’m on the brink of a nervous breakdown and can’t seem to snap out of it.
I’m hoping to finally begin seeing a therapist to help guide me on this journey because it comes with many many ups and downs, but I won’t lose faith.
If you’ve taken the time to read this birth story, thank you so much. It’s not the story many share, but it’s our story and I ask that you pray for my family as we continue to mourn and heal from our loss.
Feel free to like, subscribe, and share. Also, if you’d even like to share your story this is a safe space! My arms are open so wide for you guys!
Much love,
Aleisha Kay
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