The NICU journey will always stay with us
Our twin boys
Our story begins last August, we were just over 32 weeks through our pregnancy with twin boys. They were ‘MCDA’ twins, meaning they shared a single placenta but had separate amniotic sacs. We were considered a "high risk” pregnancy, and so we had extra scans.
The scans were mentally draining. In my mind, I’d pictured these moments as being quite wholesome, full of laughter, maybe a joke about "Twin 1 doing a dance" and "sitting on top of his brother", but these bi-weekly scans were quite solemn and serious, conducted in almost silence apart from the sounds of the equipment. The tension was quite traumatic with the possible issues that could lie ahead.
“They need to come out.”
As identical twins, we’d been advised that 36 weeks was the latest they could be delivered, but it seemed even that would be too far to reach. Each week was a battle to hear the words, "we shall see you next week". On week 32, we didn't hear those assurances. The sound of the Doppler still sticks with me now as the numbers were checked and re-checked before being told they needed to come out in the next few hours.
“You can try and mentally prepare for those moments, but when it happens, it’s a bit like a dizzying out-of-body experience.”
We’d expected at least a few days notice. Jen, my wife, wouldn't even be able to even go home first, no hospital bag with her, not able to explain why she wouldn't be home to put our eldest to bed.
Remy Wriggler and Loud Luca
The morning itself went at an extreme pace, the panic slowly subsided with the reassurance of the midwives and doctors and we caught up and digested what was happening. The operating theatre was so calm and the team put us at complete ease.
Twin 1 arrived, kicking his tiny little legs with all the energy he could muster. "He's a wriggler!" grinned the midwife. Within 3 minutes, Twin 2 had arrived to a raucous roar of crying. We had our two names lined up for several weeks now, not knowing which name to give to each baby, but from that point it became clear, we had "Remy Wriggler" and "Loud Luca", both born at 3lbs.
Our NICU stay
We’d prepared ourselves for the prospect of a NICU stay. One piece of advice that my wife passes on to expecting twin / preterm parents is to familiarise yourself with the unit. We had done just that, knowing that they were always likely to stay for a while.
“What you’ll never be prepared for is to say goodbye to your babies each night, having to go home and seeing their little cots all set up, but knowing how lucky you are that they are alive.”
There’s a bit of guilt related to NICU that is hard to put into words. You’re so relieved, grateful, thankful that your children have been born safely unlike so many others that pass through the NICU doors, but why is it fair that they’re not able to come home with us? Any NICU stay is hard, no matter the duration.
I’m clearly still holding a lot of baggage relating to the boys’ time in NICU, and it does still weigh heavy, despite them doing well. The image of my tiny boys, no bigger than my hand, in an incubator, tied up in so many wires, will always hurt. I doubt that pain will ever really go away, and I still think about it a lot.
Coming home
Remy and Luca came home after a month in the NICU. The staff there were quite simply incredible. They were caring, understanding, informative, gentle and really took good care of our little lads.
“These people kept our children alive, and cleaned, fed, and supported our children through the hardest, most vulnerable period of their lives and for that, I will be eternally grateful.”
From the 0.3% percentile, the boys have since grown to almost the 30th now in just a year. The NICU journey will always stay with us, but it is important to remember, every NICU journey is unique. It’s normal to have an array of emotions, before, during and after your stay, but these babies are brave and wonderful.