THE LORD CALLED THEM "TWO BY TWO"

I have never given much thought to the word PAIR.  TWO of something...  To the simple mind it may only seem as that which is literally two of something.  But to a mother of twins, TWO, has a much different meaning.  The pairing of two things makes it stronger.  A bond.  A union.  Two ropes twisted together are stronger than one.  A team is stronger than a single man.  Having more than just one baby - a sister - another teammate - makes the battle of life easier to bear.  No man will climb a mountain alone.  He always takes a mate.  And even in the beginning Jesus called them TWO BY TWO....  Over and over again in the Bible Jesus refers to the Pair (James and John, Simon Peter and Andrew, Philip and Bartholomew, Thomas and Matthew).  He even called the animals on the Ark to come TWO BY TWO. For by having a pair, a teammate, a helper - more gets accomplished for the Glory of God.

LUKE 10:1 

1After this the Lord appointed seventy-two^a others and sent them two by two ahead of Him to every town and place where he was about to go. 2He told them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. 3Go! I am sending you out together like lambs among wolves.  

MARK 6:7

7And He summoned the twelve disciples and began to send them out in pairs, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits.

In everything we went through at the NICU - It NEVER occurred to me that I might not bring home both babies at the same time.  I will never forget the moment that one of the nurses informed me "you need to prepare your heart to take home Mills"...  and I was thinking... "yes... and Maryn"...  then it was a moment like no other.  I mean the rapture might as well have just occurred at that very second... she meant...  without Maryn...  

Take home Mills WITHOUT Maryn...  WHAT???

So my mind began racing... I immediately started with my defense: "um... that is NOT an OPTION.  They are a package deal.  Where there is one there is TWO.  They come together. I will not separate them.  I just will not.  The Lord put them here TOGETHER, and TOGETHER is how they will stay.....End of discussion"

This was not MY plan.  None of this was MY plan.  This entire screwed up situation was NOT MY PLAN.  Things could not be any worse.  Mark and I began to have differences of opinion on bringing them home separately.  He was looking at the bright side - which was we were getting to bring Mills home!!!  I, on the other hand, could only see the misery of this - we were leaving Maryn behind - ALONE and all by herself - without her teammate - without her sister - to fight this battle ALONE.  Looking back, Mark could see the big picture much clearer than I could.  I was still on the emotional carnival ride that would not stop to let me off.  I pleaded my case to anyone who would listen - Doctors, Nurses, family members, the lady in the billing department, even the night janitor on one occasion.

"They have to be together because they have always been together"

"If I take Mills home then that means Maryn stays ALONE"

"I can not bring Mills back into the NICU after discharge so therefore if I am with Mills then I can not also be with Maryn"

"Who is going to be with Maryn?"

"I cant stay at the hospital with Maryn if Im in Indianola with Mills"

"Mills is too weak to be exposed to a hotel room in Jackson"

"There is no way this will work...."

"My family is already torn apart, I will be on the road even more"

"They are making me choose between my girls"

All I could see was this poor innocent weak child getting left behind and what kind of mother was I to abandon my child at the hospital???

Then it happened.  We got that phone call.  The one that I had been dreading since that moment it was first brought to my attention.  Mills was coming home.  WITHOUT HER SISTER.  It was not an option.  Insurance was kicking her out.  She was well and strong and ready to come home.  She was eating and growing and maintaining her own body temperature.  My sweet Mills had crossed the finish line.  ....  But her sister had not.  Maryn was still on the feeding tube.  She had not even gotten off the tube yet.  Again, I gave myself the pep-talk.  "Cassey get yourself together.  This is not that bad....  I mean people have lost their lives on the shores of Normandy.  Somebody buried their mother today somewhere in this world.  And somebody got diagnosed with terminal cancer.  This is not that bad...."  But for me it was.  This was my Normandy.  Nothing seemed worse to me at that moment in my life. 

The hospital required us to "board" with Mills in an outpatient room the night before we brought her home.  They wanted to make sure that we could handle her all night by ourselves.  And, more importantly, they wanted to make sure that Mills could remain stable outside of the NICU.  We waited patiently in our room for her to pass all of her test:  car seat safety, hearing, temp check.  We had to take an infant CPR course and sign the NICU release papers.  They banded her foot with the alarm and carted her to our room.  It was our first time alone with our baby girl.  Suddenly, my heart began to see things differently...  I was getting to bring a baby home!!!

 Hindsight... it really was not that bad.  It allowed us to get adjusted to one baby again and break Rose in slowly to the big sister status.  It forced our family to stay at home and not be traveling back and forth to Jackson.  It allowed us to get to spend some one-on-one time with Millie before her sister arrived to steal her thunder.  It was a blessing all along (kinda? maybe?)....  It just didn't happen according to MY plan...  because I was not paying much attention to God's plan!  I wanted both of my girls to come home together - regardless of what God thought was best for them.  I am their mother - I KNOW BEST.... ???

Mills came home!!!!  Rose was in Heaven!

Loving her new little sister!

Over the course of the next week I went back to Jackson three times.  I would leave Indianola and rush down there just to get to spend a few minutes with Maryn.  A feeding here, a story there.  I could rock her a little, and she was getting better in a hurry.  Then the BIG day arrived...  Another phone call but this time it was the most JOYFUL of all phone calls.  Maryn was coming home too.  Finally, this hen was about to get all her chickens in the same hen-house.  I called Mark, packed our bags, and off we went...  Jackson bound to finally return home as a family of FIVE!!!  

Sweet Mills

Sweet Maryn

The girls in their going-home outfit

Hallelujah she says!!

I have come to realize that God did not give me twins.  He gave Maryn and Mills to each other.  Being part of God's Pair is their gift - not mine.  He foresees that in time they will need a teammate, they will need a better half, they will need strength from someone other than just a sister or a mother, they are special - and require a little extra.  

It is amazing how much the human spirit can grow and mature in just three short long months.  I look back at myself prior to this whole NICU experience and I hardly recognize the woman that I was then.  My Faith, my stewardship, my marriage, my trust, and my heart has reached an entirely new level.  Maybe, just maybe, all of this trial was for our family to solely depend on God.  I mean in all honesty, it is really hard to believe that the Lord is all you need until the Lord is all you have.  There is always a silver lining.  There is always Grace.  Sometimes, you just have to close your eyes and breathe.  

It has been such a JOY to have them both home.  They were just meant to be together.  I have always seen them as a package deal, but now I see them as God's package - tied with a golden ribbon.  I can not wait to see what the Lord has in store for this precious precious precious PAIR I get to call mine HIS.

"Surely I say to you, Where TWO or more are gathered in 

MY NAME, there among them I will be"

Mark 18:20

BECOMING A MARY

IN MY MARTHA WORLD

Our journey through the NICU has been hard, and tiring, and long, and unfamiliar. The obstacles that fall deep within what a NICU really is are enormous. But not greater than our God. If there is anything in the world that will bring a man to his knees it's the NICU. Never in my life can I recall a time where I was spiritually, emotionally, and physically so humbled. Let me start at the beginning ... 

Our last time as a family of THREE

My last "baby bump" picture.  We were on our way to the hospital.  I had contractions all night long and my water had broken (later to find out it was Baby A's water and I was already 4 cm dilated).  Both girls arrived about 4 hours after this picture was taken.  I was swollen and could hardly walk without wobbling.  I remember leaving that house and driving away thinking how much our little wonderful world was about to be ROCKED!   

In February I went to Honduras on a Christian mission trip and had the opportunity to witness to a man for the very first time. I was tongue tied and nervous and felt inadequate to even attempt such a big task. However, I felt that my "try" was an utter fail .... Little did I know what the Lord had in His plans for my "try" - Until the last night in the village the man walked down and accepted Christ at the revival service. He was young and strong. He didn't "need" Christ. By that I mean he didn't have cancer or a sick child. He didn't have a reason to be desperately grasping for faith. I led him there. I have never had a feeling of such accomplishment in all my heart. I couldn't wait to get home and tell Mark all about it. I vividly remember telling my story and saying "God is proud of me. He is going to bless us for this." I truly felt that we had listened to The Lord and would be rewarded for our obedience. Little did I know what He had in store for our family.... Less than a month later I was pregnant with TWINS! We had quickly received the blessing The Lord so graciously promised to us. 

Maryn Claire Hardin
4:26 pm
4.0 pounds
16 3/4 inches long

Everlee Mills Hardin
"Mills"
4:26 pm (about 30 seconds after Maryn)
4 pounds 8 ounces
17 1/2 inches long

Left - Maryn
Right - Mills

I adore this picture!!!!  We were so so SO HAPPY at that moment !!!

When Mark and I discovered we were having twins there was a huge sense of shock and excitement followed by a minimal amount of worry. For I felt that God gave me these babies and nothing was going to happen. These were my blessing. Remember? Everyone knows that "multiples" carry the reputation for bed-rest, hospital visits, high blood pressure, preterm labor, etc. Even I was naive to the risk because the JOY of twins outweighed the worry. I had friends tell me again and again all of the possibilites to help prepare me for the days ahead. Still these were our babies.... So in my mind they would be completely fine! I can control this. I can keep them in. I can force my blood pressure down. I can rest and exercise and stay healthy. I can. I can. I can. I can. God gave me these babies and I was invincible. I was independent and strong and I could do this! However, the road of blessings curved once again.... 

Initially my pregnancy was a breeze... I was never sick. Not once. I wasn't hospitalized or suffering from gestational diabetes. Blood pressure was normal. The girls were growing and active. I had reports like "they look as perfect as they can look for twins." All genetic blood test were clear. Every appointment was more promising than the one before. This was exciting. Again and again I reassured myself that Mark and I were going to have 100% healthy babies who came home to our new house all decorated in a peter-perfect decorated nursery..... But God had different plans for our family and somewhere in the shuffle I forgot that this was HIS blessing and not Cassey's joy ride. 

At 33 weeks I went the doctor and my blood pressure was slightly elevated. I had protein in my urine and my liver enzymes were high. I was hospitalized and so it began ..... Bedrest. 

I missed one day of work and was back in the hospital. 4 cm dilated, baby A was out of fluid, contractions, and preterm labor. On Tuesday October 28 at 4:26 pm and 34 weeks and 1 day Mark and I welcomed two beautiful baby girls to our family. Maryn Claire (4.0 pounds, 16 3/4 in long) and Everlee Mills (4.8 pounds, 17 1/2 in long) Still... These babies were totally healthy and we were going home. At least I had that plan in my mind. Once again, forgetting to sit and be humble and LISTEN TO GOD.

The next day, Wednesday, was absolutely the worst day of our lives this far. Both girls were placed in the NICU - but not for "observational purposes" or "standard procedures".  They were small and weak and having trouble breathing. Maryn's lung would not inflate and she was intubated. Surfactant was administered twice to aid in her breathing. The oxygen was on high flow at 4L for both girls. The doctor sent his nurse to get our permission for treatment. By the time we could make it to the NICU there were 2 doctors and 4 nurses surrounding Maryn's incubator. The unit had been cleared of parents and visitors. The blue light was flashing on her monitor and her incubator had a red siren blaring from the top. I was in a wheelchair and had no energy to move at the sight of that. I was paralyzed. I felt the weight of marks body as he collapsed on the wheelchair arms and my chair caught him. Clearly they were not waiting for "permission". That was my child. And I could not help her. Me. Cassey. The invincible one who was given a blessing. Nurses were vague and non informative. Doctors chose their words carefully - not wanting to issue false hope or scare us in the same sentence. All the time I thought 34 weeks was great! .... But it's not. Every little day matters. Literally. The next day Mills struggled with apnea. The roller coaster ride continued. My healthy babies were not so healthy. They were not coming home. They were in the NICU. We had babies. Two sick babies. On tubes and IVs and oxygen. Two babies fighting for survival and a chance at life. I could not help them. I was not even allowed to touch them. I could not hold or rock them. I could only watch. And cry. And watch. And cry. Just thinking back on those first few days makes me gasp for air myself.  I can't imagine anything more horrific than watching your child fight for life except actually losing your child in the fight. I remember looking around the unit and thinking that the other babies were so much worse than our girls. They were two pounders and had many more problems than our girls. But the thing is... When it's your kid under that red light - Even at 4 pounds and 34 weeks - it doesn't matter. It's impossible to compare them to someone else's somewhat sicker child. I stayed admitted as long as I could. Mark never left me. We were on the same team. There was only one person in the entire world who could truly understand my pain at that moment and it was him. Things could only get better from here? Right ...? 

Wrong. So very wrong. 

From there it was an emotional spiral, most of which is a blur or a suppressed memory. The girls fought apnea, eye infections, intense swelling, weight loss, refusal to eat/suck, and the list goes on and on. One day they would be on high flow 4L, then down to 2L flow then back up, then down to the cpap, then up to high flow, then apnea, then a drop in BP, then a spike in blood gases.... They went from 40% oxygen to 30% then up to 45% then down to 21% then up again. On and on and on.... They never appeared to be stable. It was almost a week before I could hold one. Mills. The bigger stronger more stable one? Not really. But in comparison to Maryn she was. On Saturday I was discharged from the hospital and told to go home and rest. Rest? Seriously? Leave the hospital? Now, our world and blessing was changing course yet again. The reality was here. I was going home. Mark was taking me home. To Rose, to darly, to our home ... But without the girls. Mark packed our car, signed the discharge papers, and started to prepare the girls things to stay. Our diaper bag was useless. The "going home" outfits were placed in a drawer under mills incubator. I remember arguing with one if the nurses that it was absolutely necessary to leave the petunia pickle bottom diaper bag. I'm not sure why but just the feeling of leaving a bag made me feel like it was an "overnight" stay versus the fact we were leaving them .... Indefinitely. We finally said our goodbyes and there was nothing left to do but leave the hospital, but we couldn't. We literally could not leave. How do you leave two sick children behind to go home to see the other - the one you miss more than anything? We went back to our room and just cried and cried. Another "last visit" to the NICU to make sure that minky dot burp cloth got left in case one needed it. I felt certain that one more visit and leaving an extra burp cloth would make me feel better..... But it didn't. We still had to leave. How wonderful it was to see ROSE. The only thing that had ever mattered in our life suddenly did not complete our family. It was like We were suffering a tragedy. I knew in my heart my girls were going to be ok and come home eventually. I never doubted that. But in those first few weeks, it was hard to see the silver lining. It was hard to see past the fog. All I could see was the emotions that I felt. Mark took me back to the NICU the next day. I boarded on the outpatient hall. Phyllis drove me to and from Jackson. We bounced from home to Jackson to this hotel to that boarding room. I took every opportunity to just sit in the NICU and be there. Helpless. But there. The first full weekend I came home to spend with Rose (who I never quit missing the entire time and my heart was breaking for) the heat in our home went out. It was brutally cold and only got worse. Here we are. Our little incomplete family moving in with my parents in our emotional state of weakness. It was bad. And I was so caught up in the moment it only made me feel like it was worse than it was. 

Mills spent 19 days in the NICU, Maryn 24. It was almost a month before we had both of our girls home. Finally. We were complete. But then the exhaustion set in. During this whole process adrenaline rushed through our blood like it was on tap. Once the tide died down and the fog lifted.... Nothing was left but exhaustion. How do you enjoy the blessing you've waited so long for if your so tired you can't hold your eyes open? The answer is... You just try. You survive. You muddle through it. The NICU experience is not one that I want to remember but it's also one I never want to forget. It makes the blessing all the more sweeter. It makes every smile worth the fight. It makes life seem not so bad. It reminds me not to be so quick to complain at 2am with two crying babies. It makes me say I love you 100 times more each day. It makes me appreciate nurses and doctors. It makes me be patient and nervous and protective in the same breath. It makes me proud to have little fighters. It makes me HUMBLE. Humble to God. It makes me realize that I. Cassey. Can NOT control everything. For in every blessing there is still trial. And in every summer sunshine, there is fog. My girls are here because God wanted them here. He had plenty of chances to take them back. Even at 34 weeks and 1 day. They are not MY reward but HIS BLESSING. His trophy babies. Not mine. So what have I learned in all this..... I have learned to be a little less Martha and a lot more Mary... 

Luke 10:38-42

At the Home of Martha & Mary

38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. 40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

41 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but few things are needed—or indeed only one.[a] Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”