Our day is coming

The pain is so awful. I'm in excruciating pain. Why isn't the Morphine working? It worked every other time. It stopped the pain and knocked me out so that I could get another 3 hours over with. And why does this nurse keep poking at me for the babies heart rates? I keep telling her that anything touching my belly irritates my uterus, why won't she leave me alone!! The Dr. checked for the heart beats on U/S, they're both there, and she's still searching...Enough already, can't you tell I'm in pain!! ...Finally the morphine is working, the contractions are still there, but less painful, but what am I feeling...yuck, I'm wet...I'm bleeding. Bleeding is not good, it means my stitch needs to come out, which means the babies need to come out. I'm not ready, they are not ready. Dr. H told us 50% survival rate for a singleton at 25 weeks. The nurse checks my pad, yup, it's amniotic fluid, my membranes ruptured...this is it. Leave my belly alone, the nurse is still looking for the heart rate, even after the Dr. said she would set up for a c-section. These girls HAVE to be fine, they NEED to live. I CAN'T lose them. And they're going to be healthy. I can't even imagine losing one of them, I can't even think about it, I don't want to ever think about it...I don't think I could go on...

I remember this day like it was yesturday, but it also feels so far away. I lost one of my babies, and I'm still here, and I'm managing to go on...which sometimes makes me feel guilty. I'm so glad that I met Jessica, and that I had that month with her. I find myself thinking of her more and more as Alyssa becomes closer to discharge. I'm grateful that she was alive when she was born. I'm grateful that she felt how much Keith and I loved her, and I'm grateful that I was able to feel her love in return. I still cry at least once a day, but I hear that it gets easier in time. I met another Mom recently who lost her twin boy. I only met her once, and I admire her, and hope to be as strong as she is one day. I copied and pasted part of her blog entry here, in hope that I can live up to her kind words.

"(To the mama of the girl dressed all in pink)
Today should have been her birthday, three-and-a-half months after she was born.
Someday she’ll be underfoot in your kitchen tugging at your skirt, grinning up at you like a jack-o-lantern and you’ll think to yourself was that really us? I can hardly believe it even though right now, you’re walking around with your skin turned inside-out.
Someday you’ll be able to think of her twin without crying. You’ll breathe deeply and feel her saying to you it’s okay mama, I am watching you and look, look at my sister go and you’ll not see her smiling but you’ll feel it.
I wasn’t convinced of it for myself but I see it in you as plain as day. You are a warrior of a mama, more so than most mamas ever need to be. You feel like you’re spinning but you are not. As everything else spins around you, you stand your ground.
And to me, you are fifty feet tall."
http://www.sweetsalty.com/

I look forward to the day when the spinning stops.
I look forward to the day that Alyssa comes home...this day might be this weekend. Alyssa has done a 360 with her feeding...she is now feeding when she wants...taking less volumes, but still gaining weight. Her NG tube was pulled out 3 days ago, and has not needed to go back in.
Our time is finally coming. Saturday, Keith and I are rooming in with Alyssa at the hospital. If she continues to feed well, with no apneas, she can come home with us this weekend. It all happened so fast. Almost 4 months ago, my friend Jessica and I wished that someone would give us some strong medication to put us in a coma...only to wake up months later when the roller coaster ride was over. We are both finally so close to going home. Jessica is also going home this weekend. It has been a very long journey, and it feels so good knowing that we are close to the end of it. Please pray that the week goes well, and we can take our baby home over the weekend.