Death. I didn’t have much experience with it growing up. My grandfather died when I was 18. Up to that point, death had been something that happened to other people. It shocked us when he died, suddenly and peacefully in his sleep. He was a lovely person, and I miss him to this day.
Life goes on as they say, and it did.
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I remember that day as if it was yesterday. The day I was told I was carrying twins after an exhausting few years of infertility. My excitement was indescribable. Not one but two babies to love, hold and cherish? My head was spinning with the news of this life changing event. I spent the next few weeks on the Internet reading all I could about twin pregnancies and life with multiples. There were some scary stories about pregnancy complications and premature births. Although this possibility was in the back of my mind I was sure I would be one of those to give birth at 40 weeks. It didn’t take long for the first scare to happen. On the day of my younger sisters wedding, when I was barely 11 weeks pregnant, I suddenly felt a discharge of water and blood. In my full wedding attire I rushed to the hospital. My heart was pounding, I fully expected it to be over. A while later the ultrasound revealed my two precious babies quite literally alive and kicking. I spent a week in the hospital, missing all the festivities. I was so glad my babies were okay so I didn’t really mind. The next few months passed uneventfully. I started to become confident again that I would carry them to term. I was due in April and I dismissed my doctor when he said I would be lucky if I carried until February. February came and it almost passed without any incidents. Almost. Until one day, when I was 31 weeks I leaked again. This time the hospital did not let me leave. I was (hopefully) in it for the long haul. After only three days of total bed rest the doctor decided to induce me and my two boys were born 10 weeks early. Continue reading A tribute to the heroes of the NICU-The nurses