It Will Be Hard

The first time we met with Dr. Grant, we were 6 weeks pregnant and had only known about the quads for 6 days. To say we were shell-shocked, scared, and overwhelmed would be an understatement. The thought of raising four more children, all of whom would come into the world at the same time, was completely terrifying to us. How would we pay for their inevitable NICU stay? How would we love, care for, and bond with all four of them? How would we feed them in the middle of the night? How would we continue to love our preschooler in the midst of the chaos? How would we provide braces and church camps and cars and college educations and weddings to four children who all needed them at the same time? How would we take them on vacation and provide outings and memories and all the things that every parent wants to give their children and be good parents to all five of our kiddos come September?! We were completely lost. I'm fairly confident we walked around like deer in the headlights for weeks after that ultrasound that confirmed we were having four babies. So when we first met with Dr. Grant, I'm certain we looked and sounded like babbling idiots. Having never been pregnant with even one child, the thought of "how would we get them here safely" wasn't necessarily on the forefront of our minds. It's not that we didn't care, it was more just something we hadn't done before and therefore had no concept of what was coming. The things we did know were overwhelming enough, so maybe it's a bit of a blessing that we hadn't considered just how hard the road to delivering them would be. But something he said has stuck with me since that day - "it will be hard. You will be huge. But you CAN do this. You can."

Just six days before that meeting, our fertility doctor, who we genuinely do appreciate and are so grateful to, was very honest with us that it was going to be a terribly difficult pregnancy. His timing may not have been the best, but his words to us when he discovered there were four sacs were along the lines of, "this will be so terribly hard. You see these happy endings and cute families on Facebook where the babies are all healthy and the mom is fine, but the reality is that most of these types of pregnancies end with four fetuses on a metal tray." So, that was crushing. And to be honest, made us angry with him. But after the week we've had, we have so much more compassion for him and a better understanding of where he was coming from. As a man who doesn't share our faith and our worldview, he was doing the best he could to prepare us for what was coming, even if it may not have come across as caring or compassionate at the time.

Fast forward several weeks to the last few days. Our understanding of "it will be hard" from Dr. Grant and the image of tiny babies on a metal tray from our fertility doctor became so much more clear to us as the reality of this pregnancy ending prematurely is looking us square in the face. Suddenly the fears of providing for these babies materially pale in comparison to the fear of not even having the chance to try. We have fallen head over heels in love with Mavis, Amos, Oliver, and Lena and the thought of even one of them not making it is crushing to us. But those are the waters we are swimming in these days, and I have never been so scared in all my life.

We tried to keep Facebook updated with what was going on, because so many of you praying for us, sending us words of encouragement and support, and loving us through this time is what's sustaining us. But in case you missed it, here's how the last few days have gone:

Wednesday we found out that my cervix (there. I said it. I've tried so hard to avoid putting it on the internet, but Nick and one of my awesome nurses this week made enough fun of me for calling it my trap door that I feel like I have no choice but to grow up and say the word. It's just another body part, right? I have eyes, ears, arms, legs, and a cervix. There. Said it again. Yay, me!) has thinned to only 19mm and ideally it should be in the 30's. This means in the last three weeks it has shortened by almost half and that's a trend we need to put a stop to. So, Dr. Grant decided that a cerclage (sewing up the opening of the cervix) was our best option. The problem with this procedure is that there's a risk of puncturing the babies' membranes, which could be fatal to one or all of them. So, that was a super scary proposition.

Thursday we had the surgery, and it went remarkably well. Dr. McCoy, one of Dr. Grant's partners, did the procedure and my follow up care, and did an excellent job of caring for us during this whole thing. After I came out of anesthesia, I was admitted to Labor and Delivery, where they began a magnesium drip to calm my uterus down after the surgery (it's common to have activity and contractions right after this surgery, which they need to calm down as quickly as possible so you don't go into labor from it.). Three hours into the drip, we had another scare as I had an allergic reaction to something and broke out in hives, had tingly, itchy eyes and lips, my throat started to tighten, and I began seeing spots. Total bummer, as this drip could possibly be the only thing that calms my uterus down and keeps the babies in for another few weeks. They stopped the drip, gave me some Benadryl, and within minutes I was feeling better. And completely knocked out from it. :) After I woke up, the nurses told me that Dr. McCoy and another OB/GYN they consulted both believed there was no way the reaction could have been from the magnesium, so we started up the drip again. Yay!! Kind of. Suffice it to say the magnesium drip is awful. Literally, the most horrible thing I've ever experienced. One of our nurses explained to us that its job is to suppress muscle function, which is great for the babies, as the uterus is a giant muscle, but not so great for the mommy, as the rest of her muscles suffer as well. Basically you feel like you've been run over by a bus, and I honestly wanted to die in the middle of the night when I couldn't get comfortable, my heart was racing, I felt like I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't open my mouth to talk to the nurses.

Friday morning, Dr. McCoy came by again, saw that the magnesium drip wasn't actually helping my uterus, and stopped the drip again. Praise the Lord that I started to feel human again, but so scary that the thing that was supposed to help keep the babies in wasn't doing it's job. They started me on a medicine that I had been taking at home for the same purpose in hopes that maybe it would calm my uterus down without being so hard on my body. Throughout these 24 hours they had been monitoring the activity and could see that I was having 1-2 contractions an hour and some major irritability (my uterus has been described as angry, irritable, and cranky in the last couple of days...she and I are on the rocks. Pull yourself together, uterus!!), but the danger zone is 6 or more an hour, so at least I wasn't having that many. The indocine (the other medicine), worked about the same as the magnesium drip, so we had a relatively uneventful day and got to come home Saturday morning.

***Side note: I feel at this point like I should tell you I just took a mid-post nap, and am feeling much less dramatic than I was before. But, I'm going to leave the rest of the post anyway and just let you read all the feels, if for no other reason than so you can commiserate with my sweet husband and maybe send him a "I'm really sorry your wife is such a trainwreck" text every once in a while. :)

Anyway, we did get to come home yesterday, and while I am so, SO thankful to be in my own bed/on my own couch, I am really nervous about the fact that I can't feel the contractions. The nurse's departing words to me yesterday were that should I feel any more contractions, belly tightness, lower back pain, etc., I was to get myself back to the hospital immediately. Which is all good and well if you know you're having contractions. But I was watching the monitor like a hawk the entire 48 hours it was attached to my belly, and I felt exactly one of the contractions. Just one. So, now I'm just laying here like a crazy person wondering what the heck might be going on in my belly. I may or may not have burst into tears 4 different times yesterday. Whatever, man. I just really love the Fourth of July and hated missing out on fireworks. That's what we'll blame it on. :)

I'm feeling better today, and I'm confident that it's because I was reminded of the Truth that I am not in control of this situation. Even the amazing doctors and nurses who are so skilled and kind and I absolutely believe are the hands and feet of God are not ultimately in control of this situation. Nick and I "watched church" this morning (one more reason we LOVE The Crossing is that it live streams its Sunday services, so even when I can't physically be there, I still get to worship "with" my people on a weekly basis...our church is so cool.), and we sang this song called "Sweet Comfort" that I had never heard before and was so very timely for where we are at in this journey (my apologies to Sandra McCracken if I'm not allowed to post these lyrics...I don't know the rules about copyrights and such, and I'm kind of a woman on the edge right now, so please don't sue me.):

Whatever my God ordains is right 
His holy will abides 
I will be still whatever he does 
And follow where he guides 

Chorus 
Sweet comfort, sweet comfort 
Yet shall fill my heart 
Sweet comfort, sweet comfort 
Sorrow shall depart 

Whatever my God ordains is right 
He makes my feet to stand 
Though sorrow, need, or death be mine 
He holds me in his hand (Chorus) 

This bitter cup, I take it 
My fainting heart restored 
So here I stand, unshaken 
I trust upon the Lord (Chorus) 

He is my God though dark my road 
He holds me, I shall not fall 
Whatever my God ordains as right 
To him I leave it all. (Chorus) 


Whatever my God ordains is right...He holds me in his hand. I shall not fall. To Him I leave it all. Thank you, Jesus, for that reminder. We are not in control. You are good and whatever you ordain is right and we will walk this scary road with you and you will sustain us.

I go back to Dr. Grant tomorrow to measure my cervical length and talk about what's next. Yesterday that scared me to death...I don't want to go back to the hospital, I don't want another mag drip, and I DEFINITELY don't want to lose these sweet miracle babies. But no matter what that appointment entails, "here I stand unshaken, I trust upon the Lord." So today, after a sweet reminder of Who is actually in control and a pretty decent nap, I'm not as terrified. Yes this is so super scary, but I'm trying to remember that I can only do what the doctors tell me and the rest is up to the Lord. And for that, I am so very grateful.