[Tip: Clicking on the pictures opens a larger view]
Yesterday (Tuesday), we had a scheduled checkup with our obstetrician. When she was monitoring the baby girl’s heartbeat, she heard some irregularities. They were going to put Bethany on a fetal heart monitor for a while to get a continual record of how things were going. The second monitor pickup (that they would use for twins) wasn’t working correctly so they sent us to the hospital for the monitoring. And that began the night of unexpected developments…
Admitted
The hospital admitted Bethany and she went to the triage area. They hooked her (and the babies) up to the fetal heart monitor. After an hour of monitoring, everything still looked fine. During the hour, there had been no abnormalities. The irregularity from the obstetrician’s office looked like a flue – until the next unexpected development…
The resident doctor had just talked with us and it looked like we were going home. Beth and I both had other plans for the evening that got postponed – we were excited at the idea of getting home. Suddenly, the baby girl’s heart rate dropped to somewhere around 90 beats per minute (much lower than the 145-ish numbers they had been seeing). The doctor and a team of nurses rushed in to roll Bethany onto her side, setup an oxygen mask for her, take a quick ultrasound to confirm the heart rate, and many other things that happened in what must have been no more than 60 seconds.
Since the hospital had confirmed the irregularity that the doctor had heard during the routine checkup, they decided to admit Bethany and continue monitoring through the night. This would clearly identify if it was a one-time thing to disregard or something that they needed to really look into further.
We got settled into a room around 8:30pm. The nursing staff (which was consistently fantastic) was exceedingly helpful in getting us situated. Our obstetrician (who had been receiving updates all along) called to explain what was going to happen from here. She had arranged for the specialist (whom we had been seeing since we found out they were twins) to stop in on his way to the office in the morning. He would then oversee a battery of tests to determine what was happening.
More Trouble
After a couple hours, the girl’s heart rate dropped again. As the nursing staff and resident conferred with our obstetrician, the obstetrician decided to come in (instead of just discussing the case over the phone). The resident came back to get our consent for the c-section. They explained to us that the goal was to have the paperwork done on the off chance they would need to do a c-section – it didn’t mean it was going to happen or even that it was likely. After signing the forms, we asked to talk to the Neonatologist (no, we didn’t ask for him by title – don’t be impressed!) who works in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, “nick-you”). While the obstetrician gets to make the decision about delivery, the neonatologist is responsible for caring for the babies after they are delivered. We asked several questions and talked with him for quite a while.
When the obstetrician came in, we talked with her for a few minutes while she reviewed everything that had been going on. She told us that if the baby girl’s heart rate dropped again before the specialist made it in at 6 (it had been fine for hours and then would suddenly drop to 90 bpm for a few minutes and then go back to normal), she’d need to do the c-section. We could easily recognize that if it was happening every hour or two and there were 4 or 5 hours before the specialist was in, it became extremely likely that they would deliver them.
Since the staff had been talking with and preparing us for what might happen two and three steps down the road, we felt as prepared as we could have when the obstetrician made the decision. The hours of video clips and reading online that we had done to learn and understand what was involved didn’t hurt either.
Orchestrated Chaos
We had been texting our parents with some updates through the evening (as much as you can fit in those 160 character text messages). When I sent them the message that they were doing an emergency c-section, our poor sleepy parents called asking “What do you mean?”. Our world for the last 10 hours had been about what was going on and as time went on, we knew this might be a possibility. We had a much longer amount of time to work through the idea than they got (plus pretty much any phone call at 3am begins with “wait, what?”).
From the time the obstetrician decided the c-section was necessary, we probably had 5 or 6 minutes. The anesthesiologist came in, additional nurses came in, and things kicked into high gear. They gave me my scrubs and told me to change into them (and then made fun of me when I pulled them over my clothes and sent me to the bathroom to get changed). I hurriedly packed all of our stuff up (we had settled into the room at maybe 9pm and so I was napping on a pull-out chair, Beth had her purse and a few things I’d brought in from the car) and took it to the recovery room where Beth would go after the procedure.
I think the overwhelming experience with oxygen twice earlier in the night (where the staff came rushing in and gave orders with authority you wouldn’t think of questioning) helped us be calm while this flurry of activity was unfolding. I’ll say this many more times, but Bethany was amazing. She stayed extremely calm and continued to ask questions and speak up for herself. We got to say a very quick goodbye as they wheeled her into the operating room – they kept me outside while they did the anesthesia (spinal, not general anesthesia) and got things ready. They promised me they’d bring me in when they got closer.
Time Stands Still
I’m pretty sure they’ve never sought feedback on the waiting process from guys who have gone through this. There was one small waiting chair outside the OR door, all the windows were blocked out, and people gradually kept going in (and not coming out). You can hear noise and talking and laughing, but can’t hear what they are saying. And of course if felt like I sat there for months.
Suddenly, the door opened and a masked nurse said I could come in. They let me sit at Beth’s head and we got to talk throughout the procedure. We were both so scared as we waited to hear their condition. The doctor pulled the baby boy out and he let out a big cry – it was unbelievable! They showed him to us for a [literal] second and then the NICU people got him all setup and took care of him. We went back to scared waiting. The doctor announced (I think to the rest of the staff in the OR, not directed to us) that the baby girl had her cord wrapped around her neck twice very tightly. Our hearts sank as we waited to hear what that meant for the tiny baby. We didn’t hear her cry, but they showed her to us and we saw she was moving her fingers.
After finding out what had been causing the heart rate problems, we were relieved that the decisions that had been made by us and the staff had been the right ones. Waiting any longer would have just made things worse.
They kept working to close Bethany up and invited me to go over and see the babies on the other side of the room. I told Beth I’d go check them out and report back. They were so tiny – the preemie diapers they had went up to their chins! Both were getting oxygen and each had a small army around them. I have no idea how long I was there – I just stared at them as long as they would let me. Once they were stable enough to transport, they got them moved over into their transporters and I got to go say goodbye to Beth. I was excited to assure her that both babies looked like they were doing well and the neonatologist had good things to say.
Their First Trip
I went with the baby boy (with all of the traffic, the baby girl had ended up a good ways ahead of us) from the OR over to the NICU. They let me take pictures (and of course we had left our camera at home – I only had my phone which is way too slow for the pace of the NICU nurses) and I only got one of the baby boy on the scale. They let me be with them for a few minutes and then one nurse took me out and gave me some explanation of what the next few weeks would be like for us and them. She walked me through the rest of that part of the hospital. When we came out of a door, the nurse and I were just on the other side of the door where our parents were waiting. The nurse was still giving me important information, so I waved quickly – then she took me down to the recovery room to see Bethany.
Yet again, Bethany was incredible. She was hanging out in bed in good spirits. She was excited to see me back and to hear about my adventures since we’d last seen each other. We sat and talked for a little while which was a very special time.
The nurse was going to do some tests in a few minutes, so I let her close her eyes and rest a bit before that while I went out to update everyone (and to get my camera from them!).
Updating the Waiting Room Crew
We all stepped out of the waiting room and into the hallway to talk. This was the first time I got to tell the story that I’ve been writing. Everyone was very concerned for the babies and for Bethany – they were glad to hear they’d be able to see Bethany in an hour or so once she was out of recovery and into a room. I only had the quick picture on my phone to show, but everyone was excited to look anyway.
I went back to sit with Bethany until she was out of recovery. The nurse that was with us (Brooke) was great and we talked with her for a little bit. I’ve mentioned how Beth was doing great – here are pictures to prove it:
In what seemed like no time, they were ready to move Bethany off to her room. We went from Recovery into the NICU (with Beth in her not-so-easy-to-steer bed) so she could get to seem them.
Baby Girl
Baby Girl (we hadn’t had time yet to talk and confirm their names). That is a preemie diaper wrapped sideways around her waist!
The big tubes are for her ventilator, the tiny green tube is the feeding tube they’ll use.
They let Bethany touch her for the first time.
For scale, the nurse suggested we give her my wedding ring to hold in a picture. It could have been a bracelet for her!
Baby Boy
He has his breathing and feeding tubes just like his sister.
He has tubes connected to his umbilical cord for monitoring his blood pressure, drawing blood, and administering fluids/medication.
He would peek his eyes open on occasion (and he was working hard at trying – his eyelids moved so much). His first picture with Mommy.
After her tour of the NICU, they took Bethany to her room. I moved in our things from the recovery room (later in the day, we crossed the threshold from “our things” to now use the term “our luggage”) into her new room. After meeting the new nurse and other staff, we were able to usher in our parents (and my sister Michelle) who were out in the waiting room. They got to see the pictures I’d taken and we all got to visit for a while.
On our ride through the NICU, we talked about their names:
Josiah Walter Creel
Born January 27th, 2010 at 3:37am
He weighed 3 pounds, 5.4 ounces and was 15 inches long
Lilly Annabel Creel
Born January 27th, 2010 at 3:38am
She weighed 2 pounds, 13.1 ounces and was 15 3/4 inches long
Writing this has taken hours and we are both falling asleep exhausted in our room tonight. We’ll put together another update (and more pictures) tomorrow with more details.
As for visiting and trying to get in touch with us:
While the babies are in the NICU (potentially for another 6 weeks), only Bethany and I can see them. There isn’t a viewing window or anything like that. We’ll take plenty of pictures and video, but no one can get in to see them.
As you can expect, we are trying to spend as much of our time there as we can. We have to go through a security door, scrub our hands, and get a gown on before we can go in to see them. This takes time and we don’t take our phones in with us.
When we are back in our room, Bethany has nurses coming to check on and care for her. Our concern for the babies makes us forget that Bethany is still a patient too.
We would appreciate hearing from you – email is best because we can read that while Beth is having tests done or while we’re waiting (which we do quite often). If you’d like to call, please call the room at 856-325-1188. We have been leaving our cell phones on silent to not be distracted by phone calls and texts while we’re with the doctors or on the phone.
Please don’t plan to visit without making arrangements with us first. While we’d love to visit, we’re already torn between having time to sleep, time to visit with the babies, and time for the nurses/doctors looking after Beth. I had to sit down in the NICU this evening after feeling lightheaded because I hadn’t eaten since 7am and I was exhausted.
We appreciate your understanding that we cannot possibly return every voicemail or missed phone call, nor every email or text message. Again, we’d certainly love to, but if we tried, that’s all we’d do for the next few weeks! We will be investing time to update the blog so that we can tell stories and pass along information to everyone at once – this is our best hope of keeping everyone updated and yet not exhausting ourselves trying to do that individually.
Again, please give a try calling the hospital room (856-325-1188) – if it just rings, we are out of the room (probably at the NICU) or have the ringer off to get a quick nap. The number reaches the front desk before 7am and at some point at night. The phone calls and emails we’ve received have been very exciting and encouraging – they help to enrich this very special time in our lives.
Steve and Lilly
I would write more, but I'm worn out. 
