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.”