We stop just outside the doors and Finn comes around the wheelchair, squatting in front of me.
“Magpie, I need to tell you a few things. The babies are little. They weigh in just under three pounds each. I wasn’t prepared for how tiny they are. They’ve each got a CPAP mask on to help them breathe, and various other monitors attached to their small bodies. Their eyes will be covered with masks to protect them from the harsh lights that are helping with their jaundice. They also have IVs in. The IVs are wrapped up like splints to keep them from coming out, so they look like they have broken arms. I know this sort of thing freaks you out, so I just want you to be prepared.”
He smiles at me and kisses me gently, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “You ready?”
I nod, so he stands back up and wheels me through the double doors. We are greeted by various nurses on our way to the wash station, where we scrub in as if getting ready to perform surgery. Each and every nurse calls Finn by name. It’s obvious he’s made quite an impression on them since he’s been here.
We pause outside the interior doors of the NICU. I look to Finn, so glad he’s back home and I’m not facing this alone. I don’t know if I would be able to handle seeing my boys without him by my side. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, preparing myself to meet my babies.
“You can do this, Magpie. I promise you, this is much easier than what I went through in Ireland, watching Dr. Redmond pull them from your lifeless body, not hearing the cries I was so desperately waiting for. It felt like time stopped while I watched them work on the babies. I was stuck there, totally helpless. When I heard their weak, wet cries, I felt like my chest was going to explode. It was the scariest moment in my entire life.” He wipes at the corners of his eyes, lost in the memories. “I’m almost glad you didn’t have to go through that, Maggie. It was awful. This is a walk in the park compared to that,” he says, pointing to the doors.
“Take me to meet my babies, Irish.”
He wheels me back towards the middle of the room. Rows and rows of incubators are set up, each containing tiny little babies who are fighting for their lives. Nurses are positioned at each station, charting, talking with doctors, changing IV bags, or just talking to the babies.
“We’re in the middle,” Finn tells me. “Proximity to the door is a huge thing in here. If you are in the far back, you’ll probably be here longer. Kids closer to the door will be busting out soon. We are smack dab in the middle, which is a good thing.”
We go three rows down, and stop right at the end. Taped to the clear glass pod is a sign that says ‘O’Leary Twins’. Finn parks the wheelchair and helps me stand up, walking me over to the bed to meet my babies for the first time.
When I reach my destination, the sight makes me light-headed.
My babies are laying on their bellies, snuggled against each other, shocks of black hair on their heads.
“Oh my God, Irish, look at them,” I cry, bracing my hand against the glass. “I can’t tell them apart. They are tiny replicas of you,” I laugh, looking up at Finn.
“Thank God for hospital bracelets. I think they’ll have to stay on forever. I’m sure when they’re bigger and not so hidden by all their medical accessories we’ll find some ways to tell them apart.”
He opens little port holes at the side of the incubator and sticks his hand through, rubbing each baby along his back. They are the same size as his hand. One baby isn’t fazed, but the other moves around, clearly agitated at the interruption of his nap. We both giggle.
“Obviously baby A,” I say.
I stick my hand through the other hole, moving slowly, cautiously. I can feel Finn’s eyes on me. I steer my hand towards a patch of skin on the first baby’s face that is free of tubing and gently rub my thumb back and forth along the smooth skin. It’s the silkiest thing I’ve ever felt. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that just three days ago these boys were inside of me. I move my hand to the other baby’s face, giving him the same treatment. They never move, never give any indication that they know I’m here. I feel Finn behind me with a chair. He helps me sit and then scoots the chair as close as possible to the bed, so that my entire forearm is resting by my children. I lay my arm across both the boys and hold them while they sleep. If this is all I can get, I’ll take it. I’ll sit here day in and day out, my arm draped over my boys, absorbing the feel of them into my heart and soul. It’s the most amazing and awe-inspiring feeling in the world.
My eyes are closed, my head resting against the side of the bed, when I hear footsteps approaching. I open them slowly, figuring it’s Momma or Goose. Finn says they’ve been here religiously, giving my babies the care and attention I wasn’t able to.
“Oh, good, Mom’s awake. I’m Dr. East, one of the Neonatologists here on staff that has been taking care of your sons. How are you feeling?”
I give him a small smile. “Umm, overwhelmed. How are they doing?” I ask, giving their tiny backs a gentle rub.
“Would you like to hold them while we discuss it?”
I just look at him and he takes my lack of response as a ‘yes’. I’m too shocked to say anything. I know they are my children, but I’m terrified. They are so small. What if something happens while I’m holding them? What if I do something wrong? How am I gonna manage this with all the stuff attached to them? I’ve never even held a baby before.
He opens the bed, disconnecting various monitor leads from their bodies. He leaves the CPAP masks on, as well as the IV’s connected.
“Skin to skin contact is best. It helps with bonding, it will help your milk come in, and it helps keep their body temperature up. If you want to unbutton your top a few buttons, Finn can help get them settled. He’s become quite an expert in the past few days.”
A nurse comes over and gives me a blanket to cover with, just as Dr. East takes the first baby out. As soon as my son is laid against my bare skin, the tears start to fall. This is the most surreal moment of my life. My other child joins his brother on my chest, and it’s impossible to stop the flow of tears running down my face. I close my eyes, trying to memorize the feel of my sons against my skin for the first time ever.
I’m holding my babies.
Finn squats in front of my chair, gently wiping my tears away, whispering reassuring words of wonderment and love for the three of us to hear. The nurse and doctor have excused themselves to let us have our first moment together as a family. Then, in typical Finn fashion, he gives me something I need so bad at this exact minute.
“Studies show that babies who received regular kangaroo care grew up to have higher IQ’s and could handle high stress situations better than most.”
I laugh, startling my baby boys. “Of course they do, Irish. Did you get a preemie app?”
“There’s no such thing, Magpie. Preemie blogs. I needed something to do on the countless flights it took to get me back to my family.”
Dr. East walks back over, seeing that we’re all settled and not so emotional anymore.
“For twins born so early, your boys are doing remarkably well. Their biggest challenge at this point is the lungs. In short, they have Wimpy White Boy Syndrome.” He notices my face and laughs. “This is not the medical term, mind you, but just the way it is. Caucasian male lungs take the longest to develop in utero. Because you were brought in under extreme distress, steroids could not be administered to speed up lung development before the twins were delivered. The CPAPs are being used on the boys to push through continuous air pressure. This will prevent their air sacs from completely collapsing after each of their breaths. They are also too small to maintain their body temperature and eat. All of that will come with time. My suggestion is to pump and store your breast milk. Your babies will need all the benefits from it.”
I close my eyes again, trying to absorb everything he just threw at me. In the grand scheme of things, this doesn’t sound too bad. Things could have ended up a lot worse. I’m trying to be grateful for the news. But, these are my babies.
Anything that doesn’t result in perfection sounds bad to me. I want them home with me, wire-free and healthy, sleeping in their cribs in their beautiful room their father painted.
“I know this is a lot to take in, but I assure you, as long as we don’t hit any unforeseen bumps in the road, your sons will be fine. They just need some time in here to get a little bigger and a little stronger. They will be home with you before you know it. Let me know if you have any further questions. There are several other doctors you will meet over the course of their stay here, as well as a horde of nurses. We are all here to make this as easy as possible for you and your sons. We are here for you. Let us know what we can do for you.”
I nod, noting my understanding and thanks, and he walks away to go chat with another family a few beds down. Finn is sitting next to me, arms wrapped around our children. We sit in silence, holding on to each other, soaking in our first moments as a family of four.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
My new life has become very routine, but is anything but boring. Every single day over the next four weeks, I shower, dress, pump out enough breast milk to feed a small army of children, and head to the hospital to spend the day with my sons. I never miss a day. I stay until I’m sure everyone wants to kick me out. Finn comes with me as much as he can, but someone around here has to work to pay all these hospital bills.
The boys are growing and getting stronger every day, right before my eyes. They are starting to eat. At first, it was just a swab of milk on the inside of their cheeks with a Q-Tip. Then they upgraded to an NG tube. Now, they are able to handle a few ounces by bottle at each feeding. They’ve put on over a pound each. A little meat on their bones and now they’re able to maintain their body temperature.
I’m totally kicking ass at all things medical. Before I had the boys, I couldn’t even stand to get a shot, but now, I’m completely immersed and involved in their care. All the nurses in the NICU are amazing. They explain every little thing they do, they let me participate in the boys’ care, and they support me in ways no one else can. They also love my boys nearly as much as Finn and I do. I feel completely confident leaving the hospital every day knowing these remarkable women are there looking after them. And when I have freak-outs at 3 AM when I’m up pumping, I can call them and they reassure me that everything is fine and that I’m doing a great job.
I’m just about to leave to go to the hospital when Goose comes barging through the front door, screaming my name. She’s glowing. She and Bennett just got back from the beach. Finn filled me in on Bennett’s plan, but my naïve sister had no idea what was going on.
“Mags, look,” she yells, thrusting her new-to-her engagement ring in my face. My mother’s ring looks stunning on her delicate hand. My eyes instantly water, the beautiful ring conjuring up thoughts of my Daddy. This would make him so happy. He loved Bennett with my sister.
“I’m so happy for you,” I tell her, pulling her into a hug.
“You’re not screaming.” She pulls away from me, glaring. “You knew about this,” she says, disappointed in my reaction.
“Well, Finn had a part in it, so he told me it was happening. He spilled the beans after he did Bennett’s new ink. That doesn’t mean I’m not over the moon. You know how much I love Bennett. Not to mention the fact that he just saved me and my babies’ lives,” I tell her. “When are we doing this? I’m not in any sort of shape to be squeezing into a hideous bridesmaid’s dress.”
“I want to do it as soon as we can manage. But, no ugly bridesmaid’s dress for you, Mags. This is gonna be low key, at the beach house. Just us, Mom, Ava, and Rose. Hopefully these babies will be home soon and we can plan it around that.”
I smile at the mention of Rose, Bennett’s surrogate grandmother from the dialysis center where Goose and Bennett met. She’s probably happier than any of us that the two of them are getting married.
“Perfect. I love that it’s at the beach house. Brings this whole thing full circle.” I walk to the island and grab my gear. “Wanna go visit your nephews?”
“Nothing would make me happier,” she says.
I almost faint when I get to the NICU. My babies are in an open air crib. They are lying next to each other, alert and awake. Their faces are free and clear of everything, except for a little oxygen cannula in their nostrils.
“Big day, today, Maggie,” my favorite nurse, Jenny, tells me.
“When did all this happen?” I ask, stunned at what I’m seeing.
“This morning. I wanted to call you, but then decided to just let you see for yourself. They did really well last night. This was the next step. As long as they can maintain their levels, this is their new home. Pull up a rocker and I’ll get them out for you.”
I sit and undo my shirt, preparing for my babies. We get them all tucked in, and I inhale the wonderful scent of their clean little bodies. They must have had a bath last night after I left. They smell divine.
“Don’t quote me, but usually once this happens, you won’t be here too much longer. I say a week, tops.”
“Really?” I breathe out.
“Yep.”
She walks away to tend to her other babies and I rock my boys, shocked at what she just told me.
Home.
“You’re a natural at this, Mags. I never imagined you’d do so well with all of this. I don’t mean with motherhood, but with the boys being so early and the medical stuff. You’ve shocked everyone.”
“I’ve shocked myself. I think I want to do this,” I whisper to her, letting my thoughts out for the first time since they’ve entered my mind. I’ve been too scared to let them escape, scared of the reaction I’ll get.
“Do what?” she asks. “Be a mom? Because I think it’s too late to decide on that,” she says, giving me a strange look.
“I want to be a NICU nurse. I want to take care of these tiny, sick babies. I want to support their families. I want to help them during this rough time. I think I can handle this. I’ve been floundering through school without a clue as to what I want to do with my life. I think this is it. Am I crazy?”
My sister smiles and lays her hand across the babies. “You are smart, loving, and dedicated. You can do whatever you put your mind to.”
“You know, Magpie, we can’t take nameless kids home. One of these days, preferably in the very near future, we need to give these boys names.”
Finn’s here with me now, done with work for the day. The boys are resting in their new bed. I won’t let Finn take them out for another thirty minutes, when it’s time for their feeding.
“I know. I’m waiting on you to name Baby B. I think Baby A should be Thomas. He’s the feistier of the two, always has been. My Daddy was quite a handful. I think the name is perfect for him. I think he should be Thomas Finn O’Leary. Your turn.”
He sits in silence, and then lays his hand on Baby B. “Declan Bennett O’Leary.”
I love it.
“Perfect. Just like them. Thomas and Declan.”
A few minutes later, Thomas and Declan eat their dinner in our arms, while I tell Finn my surprising plans for my future.
“That doesn’t surprise me one bit, Magpie. You seem like a natural here. It’s quite shocking, considering how skittish you were before the boys were born. I think it’s great. I also think that you are strong and fierce and can do anything you put your mind to. I will support you in whatever you wish to do, whether it be a nurse, an astronaut, or a stay at home mom. I believe in you.”
“I love you, Irish. Never in a million years did I imagine my life would end up like this. Look at us. Sitting in a hospital, feeding our sons, making plans for our future. It’s surreal.”
“It’s incredible. I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else right now. Now, let’s get these two settled so I can read to them. Then, I need to get you home and feed you. You need to keep up your strength. Sounds like we’ll be doing this on our own before we know it.”
“Now what do we do?” I ask Finn. Exactly o
ne week later, we are in our living room, each of us holding a car seat containing a small child. We’re home, a multitude of emotions coursing through our bodies.
Excitement, fear, joy, trepidation, worry, and some that I can’t even name because I’ve never experienced them before.
“Well, I think we should go put them in their crib. They’re sound asleep, and don’t need to eat for a few hours. It’ll give us some time to get settled.”
I nod, walking towards the room. We unbuckle them and lay them down gently, so as not to wake them. Despite the fact that they each have their own crib, we put them together in one. We don’t want to mess up anything they’re used to. Finn is going to move the other crib to our room for the time being. I don’t want them sleeping alone yet. They can sleep in here during the day, but will sleep with us at night. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping at all any time soon.
Finn busies himself unloading the car and putting away all of our goodies from the hospital. I stand next to the crib, watching Declan and Thomas breathe, their small backs moving up and down every few seconds. A worry hits my chest like a ton of bricks. In the hospital, monitors told us if there was a problem. At home, we have nothing. What if something goes wrong? If something happens to them on my watch, I won’t survive it.
Finn comes back into the room, pulling me from my thoughts. “Come on, let me feed you. They will be alright for a few minutes.”
We go into the kitchen, set the baby monitor between us, and eat some dinner. Halfway through, one of them starts crying. It only takes a second before the other gets tuned up. We both laugh.
“I guess we need to get used to this,” he says, guiding me down the hallway.
I look at my watch. “They don’t need to eat for another hour.” I check diapers when I get by the crib. They are both dry and clean. “I guess they were just feeling left out.”
More of You: The Home Series, Book Two Page 20
