No Matter What

We Did It

The OR team got me moved onto the operating table. I felt like I was in a movie as I looked up at that bright light overhead. As they put the blue curtain up, my anesthesiologist gave me some meds to help me relax. I was getting loopier and loopier as they got everything set up.

"What music would you guys like to listen to?" asked one of the nurses.

"I get...moosic?" I said.

"You doing okay, babe?" Connor asked. All I could do was laugh. "I think she's feeling pretty good, aren't you?"

"Yup," I said, my voice trailing off. "I want my girl Taylor."

"You want what?" asked the nurse.

"I think she wants you to play Taylor Swift," Connor said.

"Alrighty. We'll put on some Taylor Swift for you, sweetheart," said the nurse.

I smiled. "Everybody's so nice here. I'm kinda sleepy."

"Just take it easy, babe," Connor said, taking my hand.

"Hi Ayla, how are you doing?" I turned my head to see Dr. Khan, completely covered up in all his surgery scrubs and gear, standing right over me. "You ready to have some babies?"

"You bet. Thanks buddy," I said, chuckling.

"I think you gave her too much," Connor said to the anesthesiologist.

"Nah, I'm good," I said.

"Okay. I'm going to get started, then," said Dr. Khan as he stepped behind the curtain.

"You've got this, Ayla Green!" Connor said to me as he squeezed my hand.

"Thanks, you too," I said to him.

"Ayla, I'm going to do an incision. I need you to tell me if you feel anything, okay?" asked Dr. Khan. I was starting to nod off. "Ayla, did you feel that?"

"Feel what? Did you do it?" I asked.

"I did. I did the incision," he said. "Okay, we're going to keep going."

I was falling asleep until I felt a lot of tugging. It felt like Dr. Khan had opened me up and was just taking out all my organs.

"I'm so tired, Connor," I said.

"I know. I know. Almost there," he said, giving me a kiss on the head.

"We're almost done, Ayla. We've got them both," said Dr. Khan.

My abdomen suddenly felt different. I could hear coughing, then soft cries. Dr. Khan and a nurse held up two teeny, blonde-haired, little boys.

"Aww! Look at them, Ayla!" Connor said.

"Nailed it," I said.

Everything felt like a blur. I got that one quick peak at them before the nurses got them into incubators and all hooked up to oxygen. I could hear one of them crying as they were whisked out of the room and to the NICU.

"Alright, Ayla, you're doing great. I'm going to get you stitched up and then you can take a nap, okay?" said Dr. Khan.

"Okay," I said.

That was the last thing I said before going out. I woke up an hour later with my big belly gone and Connor by my side. He was crying and showing me pictures of our two tiny, skinny boys. They were red and all covered up by wires and machines. The pictures were taken outside of their incubators.

"I know we looked at pictures of preemies, but I didn't think they'd be this tiny. They're only a little bigger than my hand," he said. "How do you feel?"

"I think I can kind of feel my toes," I said.

"That's good. Do you want ice or anything?"

"No. Not yet. I'm too nauseous. I need you to tell them to get me some meds."

"On it," he said, pressing the button next to my bed.

A nurse came in soon after that to put the meds into my IV. After that I nodded off, then a few hours later, in the middle of the night, the nurses were having me try to take some ice chips. I managed to hold those down, then water. I just kept trying to sleep. I was going to need it.

Once morning hit, it was time to start moving since I could feel my legs again. By eight the next morning, it had been about twelve hours since my C section. The nurses gave me a walker to try and get me up and around the room. It felt like going to the bathroom and back was climbing Mount Everest.

For breakfast, Connor got a tray of food, and I had a bowl of chicken broth since I was still struggling on and off with the nausea. Connor ate his food on the other side of the room so I wouldn't gag. Sometimes I felt like I didn't deserve him.

Once we were done with breakfast, our families were blowing up our phones. They couldn't see the babies, but they all wanted to bring the gifts they had for me. I felt bad for having Connor tell them not to come, but I just couldn't do it. I felt too sick.

At ten-thirty I got put into a wheelchair and taken down to the NICU to finally see the babies. Both boys were in incubators right next to each other. Baby A, Aries Galileo Midnight, was two pounds and two ounces. He was dressed in a mint-green nightgown with white stars on it. I was so happy we bought all the preemie outfits with the side snaps. The wires of his monitors went in perfectly, and he could still have the whole nightgown closed to stay warm.

Baby B, Apollo Rocket Midnight, was also two pounds and two ounces. He was dressed in the gray preemie nightgown with white stripes. Apollo was wriggling and moving his little red legs. He looked uncomfortable. I couldn't imagine coming into the world, way too early and having all these machines hooked up to me.

"Hey little man. You're okay," I said to Apollo.

The nurse gave me some sanitizer and I could put my hand through the incubator. His little fingers wrapped around my pinky and I was on the verge of tears. This was my first interaction with my son.

"You did so good, Ayla," Connor said to me.

"Nah," I said, looking at both boys. "We did good."