Personal essay: My sister's wedding day

The story of how I almost lost my babies.

TIME FOR MAMALODE PRINT

I got married in 1997. My husband and I started our married life in a different country. We started trying for a baby right away. After 2 years of nothing, we knew it was time to see a fertility specialist. A few rough years followed with lots of ups and downs, mostly downs. Soaring hopes and crushing disappointments ruled my life. After 3 years, we heard the longed-for words. I was pregnant! I was bloated and uncomfortable from overstimulation but ecstatic/over the moon. The next few weeks were a mix of euphoria and impatience waiting for that first ultrasound.

Appointment day arrived. The ultrasound technician was checking the screen intently, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I see two,” she says. “Congratulations, you are expecting twins!” My husband and I were shocked but very excited. My dream was always to be a mother of twins. I knew that became a possibility once I started IVF.

After a five year wait, our wish to become parents had become true.

I tried to take it easy as I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize this precious pregnancy. I got the news in September, on my wedding anniversary actually. My younger sister was supposed to get married in November and I had to fly to get home. I was understandably very nervous of flying. If it were up to me, I would just stay in bed the whole pregnancy. On the other hand, I was not about to miss the wedding of my favorite sister. I had waited 5 years for her to get married. After getting a (cryptic) blessing from our Grand Rabbi, I felt calmer.

I got on the plane for the 6-hour journey. Every twinge made me think that something was happening. I probably spent most of the journey in the bathroom, checking that there was no blood. Eventually, we arrived and to my relief, all was well.

We settled in (at?) my parent's house. I felt good and was excitedly awaiting the wedding. The big day finally arrived. Before the Chuppah (Jewish religious wedding ceremony), we all went to my parent’s house for the pictures. I was fully dressed and made up, waiting for our turn.

Soon, my husband and I were standing next to the glowing bride for our picture. I can’t recall if the photographer managed to snap a picture before I felt my biggest nightmare happening. I had the distinct feeling of peeing my pants but the sensation was very different. I couldn’t stop it. Panic set in. Thoughts were swirling around in my head. Was it what I thought this was? Was this my fault? Should I not have flown? Was I about to lose my babies? Was this IVF, all this blood sweat, and tears for nothing? I urgently told my husband to follow me to the bathroom. Once there, I checked down there and to my horror, I saw blood. My hands were clammy and shaking, my heart sank to my shoes and I felt I couldn’t breathe. I was only 7 weeks! This could not be happening to me. I had always asked G-d to spare me from a miscarriage as I couldn’t envision losing a baby after finally becoming pregnant. My husband tried to calm me and at the same time called my gynecologist. He told us to head straight to the hospital. Talk about terrible timing!

I got some weird looks walking down the hospital corridors in my wedding finery. Waiting for the ultrasound technician was excruciating. I tried to prepare myself for the worst. As soon as she arrived, she ushered me into the room. My heart was pounding, my lips praying fervently. I tried to peer at the screen but wasn't sure what I saw. Then I heard the most beautiful words on the planet. “Lady, your babies are fine, they are both active”

I cried from relief. They told me I needed to wait for the Doctor as they had to figure out why I was bleeding and losing water. My pregnancy was still a secret, I had only told my parents and the bride. I felt that by telling people, I might jinx it. So there I was, stuck in the hospital on the day my sister was about to get married. I had no idea if I would be allowed to leave. I urged my husband to return to the Chuppah so at least the men’s side of the family wouldn’t be suspicious. I called my mom and let her know the babies were ok but that I had no idea if/when I’d return. An hour later the Dr stopped by and told me there was a tiny hole in the amniotic sac. I needed to be on bed rest so it would close by itself. In a small voice, I inquired if I could go to the wedding. He laughed and told me to get comfortable and be prepared to spend the week in the hospital. My mother told me later that people at the wedding were looking for me and wondering where I was. Most of the extended family guessed I was pregnant and had complications. My best friend was told that night and later when everyone was at the wedding, came to visit me. When all was quiet and I had time to think, it was not easy knowing I missed out on my sibling's wedding but suddenly I didn’t care. All that mattered at that moment was that the babies were ok. Yes, the timing of the incident sucked big time but I was so thankful to still be pregnant that it wasn’t the end of the world. At least I will forever be remembered as the lady who came in all dressed up for her sister’s wedding.

I ended up back in the hospital at 31 weeks with the same issue, had to lie flat but after 3 days the babies had to come and I gave birth to beautiful twin boys. Sadly, my oldest twin passed away after 8 weeks from Necrotizing Enterocolitis. My sister’s wedding anniversary is a bittersweet day. I remember the feelings of thankfulness and relief at finding out my babies were ok and at the same time I now know I would only have eight short weeks to enjoy my precious twins. But I thank G-d every day for my remaining son.

Author's Note

Can this be connected to the theme of "time"? I'm a non-native speaker so I know this needs work. The main story I want to tell was how the timing of the scare sucked. Thanks!