Our Longest Journey

One year ago today, I was out of the classroom writing curriculum for my school district and anticipating my glucose test. I was 28 weeks pregnant, and for some reason, I could not get comfortable that day. I remember roaming around the room, shifting in my chair, and being grumpy overall. When Tony and I went for the sonogram, both kids looked great, and we debated what to have for dinner as we waited to see the doctor. My doctor came in and said "I don't know how else to say this, but you need to go upstairs and get in bed." I burst into tears and Tony sat frozen- we had no idea what the next few hours would bring.

As Harper Lee would say, "thus began our longest journey together." We were put in a room, and I was hooked up to a fetal monitor to watch the kiddos- they remained active and looked great. We found out I was in labor and was having contractions three minutes apart. I was given two shots- one was a steroid to build their little lungs, and one was a shot to stop my labor. Terrified- we were terrified. The idea of meeting two little babies who were no where close to being ready for this wide world was something we hadn't even fathomed. I remember laying on the bed, watching the monitor, holding Tony's hand, and wondering what we would do if this didn't work. What in the world would we do?

Tony went home and got me clothes and pillows and some comfort items for my stay, but everything he did was in a fog- how could things have been turned on their ear so quickly? I cried. I cried a lot. Things hit me in waves- my first thought was that I'd be in the hospital for Christmas, then my mind raced about the babies and all the things I might have done to cause this- too many "what ifs" to count.

Tonight, one year ago tonight, my babies and I settled in for our first night alone, just the three of us- no Tony, and no Abby; it was something we've never encountered before. I didn't know what the night would bring; I'd never spent the night in a hospital, and Tony stayed late to tuck me in. There would be 17 more nights of tucking in before the babies got here, but we had no idea how long we would be there when we embarked on our first night of hospital bed rest.

Now it seems so long ago, and it's hard for me to remember who that girl was laying in that bed, but I know that if I hadn't gone into the doctor that day, gone to stay in the hospital that night, and had the shots I did, who knows what would've happened to my beautiful babies. So, I suppose December 12th will always be a double-edged sword for  us: the day our lives turned into a storm, and the day our babies were saved.

Here are some of the last pictures I took before I went into the hospital; Tony took these pictures of the three of us on Saturday, and Wednesday we were in the hospital. We had so much fun at the park that day, and the weather was great, and I'm so thankful we got to take this pictures before everything got complicated.