I am a mother of quadruplets. The excitement over carrying four babies carried me through a miserable pregnancy. I dreamed of four cribs, four bouncy seats, and of four children playing ball in the backyard. Everyone was so excited. We had tried for three years to have a baby, and God blessed us with four.
I started having contractions at sixteen weeks, and was in the hospital more or less for two months. I prayed and asked others to pray that I could hold my precious babies inside “just a little bit longer” and for a while…I was able to, but then what was meant to be…happened. At 25 weeks Alexander, Benjamin, Callie, and Donovan were delivered by c-section into a world that was not ready for them.
I was told that my babies probably would not live through the night. If they did live through the next three days, they had a thirty percent chance each of leaving the hospital. As much pain as I was in, I forced my husband to bring me my wheelchair…call the nurse…and [we] went up to the NICU to see my babies. I had to see them…in case they did not make it…
For three weeks, our little fighters were incredible…inspirational…and wonderful. My husband and I were so proud of our little darlings. I lived at the hospital…literally..for those three weeks. I occupied a room right beneath the NICU.
We got news that our Alex was very sick. They ran antibiotics..and he seemed to be responding…but then took a turn for the worse. He had renal failure…and was bloated up to three times his size. (He was one pound and four ounces at birth…and was close to three pounds at this time.) The ossillator’s oxygen and pressure levels were so high, they talked about using another machine. Finally, it was determined that the infection was in his central line. They pulled it. The infection went to his heart, where it made an enormous blood clot. All organs began shutting down. His brain swelled. My husband and I agreed to take him off of support.
Our family waited in a sterile room, private from the NICU. It was the room surgeries were performed in. The same room two of my babies had the opening between their lungs and heart closed….just hours before. It was so quiet…so final. A nurse in tears brought my swollen baby boy to me in a blue gown and blanket. He was off the ventilatior. He was dying. She tucked him in my arms. The room exploded in sobs, but I was so numb…that I just held him…kissed him…and said goodbye. He sucked his last exhausted breath in my arms. He smelled like death. He was cold. The doctor came in to pronounce the time of his death. My husband and I passed our son’s body around the room to same family members who were unable to see him in life because of the restrictions in the NICU.
We had the funeral two days later. Our three survivors made it home. They have an Angel in heaven.