The Story That Made Us Stronger by Iris March

Author:Iris March
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Iris March

Katie Brandt

Travis and the kids were long in bed, and I still couldn’t sleep. Nothing new. I found myself awake and staring at the lights on my wall, beyond the pictures, beyond the blue heart my nephew Luke had made me, beyond the wall. Just staring. I got up and did a lap around the hospital floor. No one else was stirring. The night-shift nurse, Zofia, gave me a knowing nod as I passed her station.

As I walked, I thought about how my little girls came into this world.

By the time we were twenty-seven weeks into the pregnancy, we had a cesarean session scheduled for thirty-five weeks. Most pregnancies go forty weeks, and twins are considered full term at thirty-seven weeks, rarely making it to thirty-eight weeks. I liked having such a definitive plan. Thankfully, my last round of chemo was canceled because I was feeling so good. We could tell that it was working, so we could wait to do another round of chemo after the girls arrived, when it would be more effective. It felt like a rest and a relief to skip that last chemo. I felt huge and tired, and commuting to the city with my mom for the treatment was always a daylong ordeal. I just wanted to be at home with PJ and relish the remainder of his only-childhood.

The doctors expected the girls to go right into the neonatal intensive care unit once they were born, since they were going to be so small. I was not allowed to breastfeed because of the cancer and all the drugs that remained in my system.

April 11, the date of our scheduled cesarean, finally arrived. Scheduling a time to get babies cut out of your body is very different from how most women experience childbirth. Instead of aiming for a due date, you know the exact time and day. That worked for me because I liked to plan things.

PJ stayed with Travis’s cousin, Alyssa, who would bring him to the hospital in the afternoon. We got there early, at 6:30 a.m. Travis was jittery, but I was feeling excited. My mom and dad and my doctor-sister, Karissa, all met us in the waiting room.

“Brandt,” the nurse called out to the room, as if there might be someone else there. We were the only family waiting.

Karissa, Travis, and I stood up and met her at the door. The nurse took us to another sort of waiting room where I disrobed and got into one of those thin, cold hospital gowns that never cover enough of my body. They took some vitals and attached an IV to my port. I sat on the edge of a table to get my spinal block.

Travis held my hand as they wheeled me down the cold hallway to the surgery room. Karissa was wearing her scrubs, looking as if she were prepping for the surgery herself. She, my OB (Dr. Heather Malar), and a third high-risk OB were all there, crowding the room with more people than I expected.

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