20 Weeks

As of today, I am 20 weeks pregnant and officially at the halfway point. I don't think I'll go to 40 weeks, so really I'm more than halfway through this pregnancy.

We've been grieving the loss of our son Collin for almost a month now. The first two weeks after we found out were very hard on me. I didn't want to talk about it out loud with anyone but Will, and I didn't want to be around anyone who knew I was carrying twins and that one had passed. I didn't want to be asked about it, or worse, asked how the twins were by someone who didn't know one was in heaven already. I cried everyday about a lot of different things. I was missing Collin and scared at the same time that Gibson would pass as well. I felt very alone in this, because I am. No one around me is experiencing this exactly like I am, not even Will. I was just overall sad and paranoid and emotionally drained. I believe everything I felt was completely normal for a mother going through this unique type of loss. Through all of it, though, I was never angry that he died or upset with God or anyone. It was obviously meant to happen, and while it's not the outcome I would have chosen, I can accept that it happened for some good reason. Maybe both boys would have had a very tough road ahead of them had they continued on together. Maybe we would've had months of bad news about them only to still lose one or both of them in the end. Many people have lost one of their twins at the end of a pregnancy. Some are even told they will lose one of them upon their birth because of some defect that won't allow them to survive outside of the womb. How do you live with the knowledge that the day one of your children will be born is the day one of them will die? I'm thankful we will avoid that. I know our situation could've been so much worse than it is. And while it is still very sad for me to think about, we are healing and I know that life will be just fine. Like I've said before, we will never forget Collin or pretend he never existed. Both kids will know about him, and Gibson will always know he's a twin. I don't have to worry about Collin anymore. He is happy and whole, and when he opened his eyes for the first time he saw Jesus. How amazing is that?

About a week after the fateful appointment, I got a call with the results of my bloodwork (from the 20 vials of blood taken that day). It's truly amazing what blood can tell you. It was tested for Down's Syndrome, the Trisomies (not sure of the numbers), clotting disorders, and a number of viruses. It was thousands of dollars in tests. Thankfully, it ALL came back normal. No concerns whatsoever. Of course, it doesn't help with figuring out a medical reason for why Collin passed, but it's great news for Gibson that none of those things are going on with him (or me).

Two weeks after the appointment when we learned about Collin, I went back to the doctor to check on Gibson. A lot of tears were cried over the health of Gibson, and by about two weeks, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to know he was OK. So I called my doctor's office and asked to come in. Thankfully, I was able to get a spot exactly two weeks after the previous appointment. Will and Liam went with me. It was a pretty quick appointment. No ultrasound was done, but we got to hear his precious heartbeat on the doppler. My doctor could tell he was quite active, and his heartbeat was strong and perfect. It was a healing moment for me. That was a good day all around for our family because Will had a great job review and got a raise, and I went out with friends for the first time since Collin's passing and had fun.

After that, I felt like I was ready to be around people again, so life returned to normal, or our "new normal" as people say. Liam has been a wonderful distraction this whole time. He's kept me from sitting and pondering and worrying as much as I would be if I didn't have him. Liam is a precious child, and I know he and Gibson will be best friends. Liam talks about both of them and says that Collin is in heaven with Jesus. Does he really understand any of what's going on? No, but I tell him anyway. He's seen me cry a lot in the month of September, and he knows when "Mama sad." While we do mention Collin to him (and always will), I've made a point to talk about Gibson a lot more. I'm afraid that when Gibson is born, Liam will ask and wonder where Collin is. He won't even be three yet, so I'm sure he still won't understand though.

Even though we mourn Collin, Gibson is still very much alive! I had an appointment Friday at the Fetal Care Center to have Gibson's heart and brain checked out. We were blessed yet again to have a friend watch Liam for us so we could go alone. I was nervous about it, but I knew Gibson was still alive because I had recently felt movement. A different doctor than before came in to do the ultrasound. He was nice, though; all the doctors there have been nice. As of Friday, I've seen them all. Immediately after starting the ultrasound, he let us hear Gibson's heartbeat. He didn't waste any time. He's a pro, and he knows what mamas want to hear. It was a detailed ultrasound where he measured and looked at everything. He did look at Gibson's brain, but not as in-depth as I thought he would. He told us everything looked perfect. He had us poke Gibson while he was on the screen, and we got to see him react and kick back. It was neat to interact with him. He did show us Collin, who looked tiny compared to Gibson. He has gotten smaller while Gibson has gotten bigger. He was curled up and off to the side. The doctor said his facial features are already diminishing. One thing we've been praying for is that Collin would still look like a baby when he is born. It's not for everyone, but we would like to see him after he's born. However, it's looking like there won't be much left. There's still a long way (hopefully) to go in this pregnancy, and my body is doing what it's supposed to about Collin, as harsh of a reality as that is.

At one point in the ultrasound, Gibson did reach out to where Collin is. He obviously can't see or touch him since there is a barrier between them, but I think he knows he's there. At the 13 week ultrasound (the one where I left worried if there was a membrane between them), they were right next to each other interacting. So I do think Gibson realizes something is different on the other side of the wall. Seeing them on the screen together again did make some tears fall. It was concrete proof all over again that one of our children is dead. After the ultrasound was finished, we talked to the doctor some. He told us that we should not keep Gibson at a distance just because we are afraid of losing him too. He encouraged us to love him and get attached to him. I have been attached to Gibson all along. Even with how scared I am of losing him too and feeling like I have to say "IF he's born," not "WHEN he's born," I am totally in love with him already. It's just sometimes hard to admit that to myself even. But, I feel like the doctor gave us a lot of hope and sort of "permission" to look forward to life with Gibson. And I have been doing that. I finally went and bought maternity clothes this weekend. I had been making do with one pair of pants and two shirts from the last pregnancy that were fit for public. At home, I look like a bum most of the time. I also registered for a few baby things online. I'm not expecting a shower or even gifts, but it helps me get excited about Gibson's arrival. So I'm really registering just for me.

Anyway, after the great news from the regular ultrasound, we met with the fetal cardiologist who did a detailed ultrasound on Gibson's heart. She looked at everything in and around his heart...every vein and blood vessel too. Even though it looked grainy to us like a regular ultrasound, I guess she could see everything she needed to. Gibson was moving around a good bit, though. After checking everything out for a good 20-30 minutes, she told us she didn't see anything wrong with his heart at all. She said the heart is fully formed by 8-10 weeks, so any defects could be detected for sure at this point. His heart is perfect too! We don't have to see her again.

So we left the appointment feeling happy and blessed. Whenever I start to worry, I just remember that ALL the news we've gotten about Gibson has been good...every last thing. I know that may not always be the case the rest of the pregnancy, but for right now, it's the truth!

Gibson's profile at almost 20 weeks. He seems to have big cheeks like Liam!

I know it's kind of hard to tell what this is, but on the left is the outline of Collin's whole body. On the right, is the outline of Gibson's head. You can get an idea of their size difference. Although they look really close to each other here, there's actually a good amount of space between them. 

We don't have a full-length mirror at home, so I took this headless shot while trying on clothes. As you can see, I'm huge for 20 weeks.

The One I Wish I Didn't Have to Write

It's been nearly a week since we got the devastating news that one of our twins had passed away.

Will and I went in for my appointment worrying about whether or not there was actually a membrane between them. The ultrasound was started, and of course the membrane was found within the first minute. I had been worrying for nothing. The ultrasound tech focused on Baby B and started measuring body parts and looking at organs. Everything looked fine. The heartbeat was 141 BPM. We told her we wanted to record the screen as she announced the gender. Then she announced that she was almost completely positive they were boys! We were so happy to hear that; both of us thought they were boys.

Then she started focusing on Baby A. Very quickly she took the wand off my belly, took of her gloves, and told us she would be right back with the doctor. She didn't answer me when I asked her if something was wrong. She left the two us in the room wondering what was wrong. I was freaking out on the inside, but trying to stay calm. She was gone for what seemed like an eternity, and returned with my doctor. She took my hand and told me it looked like Baby A no longer had a heartbeat. I started sobbing while that was indeed confirmed by the ultrasound tech, and I saw my lifeless baby on the screen. He was perfectly formed with his legs curled up. He was measured, and it was determined he had passed a week earlier. I was 16 weeks, 2 days pregnant at the appointment, and the baby had passed away at 15 weeks, 3 days.

I had no idea anything had happened. My body gave me no indication that one of my babies was no longer alive. The thought had never even crossed my mind. I was worried about several other things that can go wrong with having identical twins, but I honestly never thought I would lose one.

We were ushered into an empty exam room and left alone to cry for awhile. During that time, my doctor made an appointment for me with a maternal-fetal medicine (high risk) doctor down the street for an hour later. My doctor finally came into the room and told me they didn't know why it happened and that they may never know why it happened. She assured me several times it was not because of something I did. She was crying a little, too. She was reluctant to tell me the surviving twin would be fine, which is why she wanted me to see the other doctor. After pulling myself together as best as I could, we walked out of the room and the office without checking out or scheduling another appointment.

We had lunch in the hospital cafeteria and then went to the new doctor's office. I was doing a good job at that point of not crying. I had a lot of paperwork to fill out which distracted me. After a very long time waiting, we were finally called back. After a stop at the blood pressure machine (it was surprisingly normal), we were shown into an ultrasound room and waited for my new doctor to come in.

Just like before, she started the ultrasound thoroughly checking out the surviving twin. She confirmed that he was indeed a boy and that he looked perfect at the moment. She briefly looked at Baby A, and I noticed that the nurse in there with us kind of put her head between me and the screen so I couldn't see very well while he was on there. When she finished with the ultrasound, she took my hand and gave me pretty much the same speech my regular OB had given me about it not being my fault and that she didn't know the reason why it happened either, at least not yet. She cried a little bit, too. But then she got down to business to let us know what the next steps would be. I was to come back in three weeks so she could do an in-depth scan of his brain. When twins are sharing a placenta and one dies, it can briefly affect the amount of blood and oxygen going to the surviving twin. The further along in the pregnancy this happens, the greater the likelihood of there being lasting damage to the surviving twin, usually in the form of cerebral palsy. However, she said my loss happened at what was considered early in the pregnancy as I was only two weeks into the second trimester. She said that the fact that they were still small and would not have been sharing very much blood at all yet made the chances go down significantly that he would have any lasting problems. However, she also said she just couldn't be absolutely sure nothing happened since the event had already occurred. She said his brain looked fine, but it was still too small to really examine it. The doctor assured us that the vast majority of the time, the surviving twin in this situation goes to term and doesn't have any problems at all. At the next appointment, an echo will be done on his heart to see if it is having to work harder now than it should. She said he had a normal, four-chambered heart, though, and that was great.

Even though she said we may never know the cause of death, she wanted to do some blood tests to see if that would uncover a reason. She said the deceased baby's neck was thicker than usual, and then she said that it becomes thicker after they pass. However, it can be a marker for Down's Syndrome or the Trisomy's. Now, I really don't know much about them, and I've always declined the testing for them since it sounds like there are a lot of false positives. She also wanted to test my blood coagulation levels to see if a clot could have caused it. So after the ultrasound and speech were finished, I was taken into someone's office and the nurse came in to draw literally 20 vials of blood from me for all those tests. I had no option but to stare at the paperwork in front of me that said the reason for the tests was "Demise Fetus A." Somehow I managed not to cry, though. Will had left the room because blood makes him queasy, but it really doesn't bother me.

Finally, after making my next appointment for three long weeks later, we were able to leave and go home. I held it together long enough in the car to call my mom and tell her the news. Then I cried all the way home. A gracious friend had been watching Liam for us, and his 2.5-3 hour visit turned into more than 5 hours. Once at home, I just sat on the couch sobbing, stunned at how the day had gone. Liam was thankfully a good distraction, and has been for the past five days.

The past five days have been really tough. This is the first time I've dealt with this kind of loss. I cry easily and haven't wanted to be around anyone but Will and Liam. I don't want to talk about it out loud yet with anyone. I cry about the fact that I lost a child. I cry about the fact that there won't be two babies to hold and raise together. I was looking forward to having twins. I cry because I have to carry my deceased baby for the remainder of the pregnancy. I cry with worry that I will lose the surviving twin as well. I am very scared and paranoid about that right now, especially since I don't feel much movement yet. At 12 weeks, I felt both babies kicking me at the same time, and it was even strong enough for Will to feel them too. That's not typical at all for babies that small. I think now it was a miracle and a gift to get to feel both of them kicking so early. They WERE both alive and now one is gone. Our hearts are broken for sure. However, I think each day is a little easier than the one before and I cry a little less each day. I do think it's one of those things I won't completely get over, though. I will always know there should have been two. But I do know that life will still be fine in spite of this fact.

Wednesday night after we found out the news and Liam had gone to bed, Will and I were both grieving the loss of our son. We had talked about names before that day, and decided on the names Collin and Gibson if we were having boys. In my mind, Collin was Baby A, and Gibson was Baby B. So that night we named our angel baby Collin. We had not decided on middle names, but Will wanted to give him the middle name Noel (pronounced Nole), so we did. Collin Noel. We named our living son Gibson. Later on we decided to give him the middle name Noel as well, since it was the only thing we could give them that they could share. Gibson Noel. Since then, we refer to them by their names and talk about Collin a lot. Liam has learned both of their names, and tells both of them good night and good morning every day. When we ask him what are his brother's names, he replies, "Cah-yen and Gif-son." When I ask him where Collin is now, he replies, "Heavent." I think it's precious and I love hearing him say both of their names. I think he will be an amazing big brother, and I sincerely hope and pray he gets the chance to be one to Gibson.

I think it will always feel like someone is missing from our lives, but I know we won't ever pretend that Collin never existed. We will talk about him and tell Gibson about him. I hope that somehow Gibson has a connection to his brother. I don't know if that's possible at all, but I do want Collin to be a presence in our lives somehow.

Both babies at 9 weeks

Collin at 9 weeks

Gibson at 16 weeks and proof he's a boy.