We moved on to discuss other important parts of the birth plan, such as the changes I wanted to make to the twins’ feeding regime. I wanted them to have breast milk via a bottle in Grace’s room. This was not normally allowed, but he agreed that, with my previous experience, if we prepared a permission letter he would allow it. Another bonus. He even agreed to our request to play music during the delivery. He laughed, but this was really important to me as I wanted to dispel, as much as possible, the clinical nature of the delivery room by playing some beautiful music. I suppose we got him on a really good day and, as our lawyer, Nichola, jotted all the discussions down for follow-up, I was still in shock that the doctor had actually agreed to let us both into the delivery room. My mission now was to help Grace as much as possible so the babies would stay tucked up comfortably in her tummy, and we could be there for those few minutes when they were being born. I had a spring in my step as we left the meeting and wanted nothing else but for the babies to stay healthily in utero for as many more days and hours as possible.
On 12 January we had our usual Monday routine: 7am was the heart monitor procedure for both babies. Fortunately, as in previous weeks, the results came back as normal. Grace sent me a little voice note with the babies’ hearts beating in the morning as I woke up, and it was such an ideal way to start the day, hearing these beautiful sounds. I assumed that today they would do the ultrasound too to determine the babies’ weights and sizes again. Krzysztof and I were both hoping we would also get some sort of indication of a birth date. Grace was increasingly uncomfortable, and the movements of the babies were obvious in her tummy now. It seemed sometimes they never stopped rolling and swimming and kicking and reacting to us laughing or playing the ‘light/dark’ game that even the babies soon bored of. I would hold both my hands over Grace’s tummy and wait to see if the babies moved when it became light again; the first few times they jumped so hard I thought it might bring the labour on. But after a few days, the babies seemed bored and didn’t jump when I took my hands away again. It was always amazing to feel them move. Later on I wondered if it was a genuine reaction to us touching and making sounds or whether the movements were just the sort we do ourselves – stretching, changing to a more comfortable position and so on. I could spend hours enjoying them moving, and I could spend hours listening to their little sounds. I also found doing jigsaws with Krzysztof and Grace was a relaxing and fulfilling way of passing the hours and days at the hospital. Krzysztof and I were on day three of being in Thailand together.
The ultrasound was confirmed for that afternoon, and Krzysztof and I went along again with Ava to see the babies on the screen. We all went into the room and settled into position, waiting to see the babies. At this point, my fears and worries about seeing and hearing the heartbeats had lessened, and now I focused on finding out how much the babies had grown. I did my best to read all the information flashing up on the screen while, at the same time, taking as much enjoyment as I could from seeing the twins react to the sounds of the machine. We could see their faces clearly, and at one point it seemed that Leo was smiling, which made us all laugh. However, the doctor said their sizes had not increased too much that week, which was a bit of a jolt as Grace had gained another kilo. Because of this, I was expecting the babies to have increased in weight too. I was instantly on alert at that point for discussions about a birth date and knew it would be soon as there was obviously no more room for them to grow. The doctor completed a check of Grace’s cervix after we’d stepped out of the room, and he said he thought she was maybe 3cm dilated. I looked at Krzysztof, and he knew the birth would take place soon too. I was expecting maybe Friday but knew I would be worried about the babies every minute until then. Krzysztof thought it might be sooner, but we just didn’t know.
The doctor came out of the room and his look was not one of concern, but of excitement and imminent announcement as he said: ‘The babies will be born tomorrow morning at 8am.’ I was in shock. I looked at Krzysztof, and he looked at me and smiled. I thought to myself, OK, the babies will be born tomorrow!
Chapter 23
Hello, I’m Your Dad!
I’m not sure exactly what the decision to birth the babies the very next day was based upon, but I assumed that if the babies hadn’t increased in weight as much as they had in previous weeks then the doctors must have felt that, for the health of Grace and the twins, they would have to be born soon. I asked Grace how she felt, and with a brave face she said she was a little nervous but excited and was glad the babies were coming soon. I confirmed with the doctor that it was definite they would be born at 8am, and he advised us to come to the third-floor labour ward at 7.45am. I thought I might faint.
So many emotions and thoughts were running through my mind. Would the babies be healthy? Would Grace be OK? What would life be like straight after the babies were born? What would happen in the delivery room? Would they both be big enough to breathe on their own? The list of questions in my head was endless, but I knew deep down that taking the advice of the doctors would have to console me – they knew what was best for everyone.
As we went back to Grace’s room, there was a celebration going on. Everyone was excited and in planning mode. There were squeals of laughter and a lot of chatter about what the babies would look like and how much they would weigh. Krzysztof and I decided that we would go back to the apartment, pack everything up and stay at a hotel next to the hospital. This would mean we could wake up early and walk back to Phyathai 2 without having to worry about the traffic. As we were due to move into the apartment in the Banyan Tree hotel a few days later, we could just keep the room in the hotel next to the hospital as a base and be close by when the babies were born and not have to drive all the way across Bangkok every day.
We chatted with Grace for a while and said we would come back in the evening once we had checked into the hotel around the corner at about 9pm. Driving back to the apartment afterwards, I felt a bit numb and worried as I really wanted the babies to be born at thirty-seven weeks. I knew that this seemed impossible due to the babies’ sizes and Grace’s small frame. After lots of Google searching, I comforted myself that born now they had a high chance of breathing on their own, but they might need help with feeding. I just had to accept that this was the way they would arrive.
We packed up the apartment together in Thonglor practically in silence, separating everything into piles, such as things that had to go to the hospital for the babies and things for us to stay overnight, things that needed to go to the new apartment and things for our temporary base in the hotel around the block. A few carloads passed between our new apartment and the old one, and then we packed our hospital bags and suitcases with everything you would need for ten babies, never mind two. I still could not believe the birth would be the following morning and tried to stop myself from worrying whether the babies were really OK. The doctor’s explanation around the differences in the measurements and how the babies had moved a bit further down were rolling around in my head. I just kept driving and trying not to cry.
We checked into the hotel. I wanted to shower as I’d been sweating from moving all the boxes, but I was even keener to get back to the hospital as soon as possible. We ordered some room service and told the hotel to leave it in our room, assuring them we would eat it before bedtime. I joked to Krzysztof that it would be our first of many cold meals to come.
We got to the hospital room just before 10pm to find everyone was settled. They had prepped Grace for the operation and inserted an IV line already, which was giving her some pain. Grace’s friend and her daughter were excited to look through the baby things we had brought, their first clothes and blankets, and I was careful to protect Grace’s feelings as much as possible. Although we had been talking babies non-stop for nearly eleven months now, I thought seeing all this baby stuff might be a bit too much for her, but I knew she wanted this family so much for Krzysztof and me. I began thinking that she might want to keep the babi
es after they were born, but I put those thoughts to one side as best I could. Krzysztof was so tired he was falling asleep, so I told him that we would go back to the hotel to eat, and then I would return again to say goodnight to Grace. Everyone told me to stay at the hotel and get some sleep, as the next day was going to be exhausting, but I wanted to sit down with Grace and reassure her that I would be with her – I wanted to chat openly so we could support each other. She knew I was worried but overwhelmingly excited as the time got closer and closer. When we did get back to the hotel, I ate my food quickly, kissed Krzysztof goodnight and told him how excited I was; I couldn’t get back to the hospital room quick enough. I said I wouldn’t wake him when I returned, and imagined our last night sleeping together as a two before we became four. An astounding feeling but, at the same time, it felt unreal, and I thought I would wake up from this marvellous dream and discover it was just a fantasy.
When I arrived back at the hospital room, Grace was particularly uncomfortable with contractions again. I was glad I had come back at this point, and we talked about the fact that there were only a few hours to go until the babies were born and that we should try to get some sleep. I thought that maybe I should stay in the room with her as she was so uncomfortable with the contractions. I wondered if this were not the onset of real labour happening spontaneously now. I messaged Krzysztof that I thought so and that he should stay awake, as Grace and I had decided to call the doctor to check her contractions and see if she had dilated any more. Grace was gripping the side of the bed by this point at each contraction. I knew they were strong and that she was probably in proper labour now. I was so nervous – I had no idea how she must be feeling. I wanted to ask her but thought that it might not be the best time.
A female doctor came into the room and checked how far dilated she was, and although I didn’t have any confirmation that this had increased, there was lots of rushing around and phone calls being made – I seemed to be the last to know that she was, indeed, in labour. The doctor said that the babies were coming now and they would do an emergency C-section and called the other doctors back in to perform it immediately. I felt a rush of adrenalin and messaged Krzysztof to come straight away. I had only glanced away for a second, but when I looked back Grace had her surgical hat and full surgical gown on and a wheelchair had suddenly appeared, with a porter to take her to the third floor. I told Krzysztof to meet us there as they were taking her into theatre right away.
As she was wheeled off I smiled at her, and she smiled back at me through a contraction, clutching the wheelchair. I waited by the door to see what was going on. I felt so separated; I wanted to rush through the doors to be near her. I was willing Krzysztof to arrive, and Ava was sitting with her mum watching cartoons. I was rigid with fear as I was so worried now for the babies. Were they in distress? Was that why they were performing the delivery right this moment or did they just not want her to go full-on into a natural labour? No information was forthcoming.
Krzysztof arrived, rushing in with cameras and bags, and iPads and phones; I wondered how he’d even had the presence of mind to snatch them from the room. I grabbed him and he gave me a tight hug; my tears started to fall and my body was shaking. I was terrified, petrified, and so wanted us to be with Grace to find out what was going on. I saw the chief doctor from the nursery arrive, and by now it was just after midnight. She went up to get ready for theatre. I watched everything that happened and strained to see the other doctors arrive. At this point, I knew it would be impossible for both of us to go into theatre and I probably wouldn’t be allowed in either. I knew I was a complete wreck by now and didn’t want to be a distraction anyway. I was so glad to have Krzysztof’s hug and kisses. When I saw the first doctor arrive, I tried desperately to make eye contact with him. I was willing him to look over in our direction – the second doctor and the rest of the staff were already in theatre. And then he came over to Krzysztof and me to chat to us. I looked him in the eye and asked if we could both come in, but he explained that as it was now an emergency delivery neither of us would be allowed to go in. He said he would call for me, and we’d meet the babies in about ten minutes. I could only think of Grace and the babies’ health at this point, so I nodded and cried. I was a complete mess. Ten minutes or so to go before I became a father.
The corridor fell silent and we stood waiting. The lighting in the corridor was stark; all the walls were clinical blues and pinks. I looked around the area where we were standing, and I couldn’t believe that now, in such a dramatic way, we would meet our babies. I was sweating and the palms of my hands were wet. What was happening past these closed doors? Was everything going to plan? I wanted to race into the room to be there. I couldn’t bear the feeling of not having any control. I wanted to keep Grace and the babies safe. I wanted to help. I wanted to do anything but stand here waiting, not knowing what was going on.
The seconds ticked past and the minutes dragged. I kissed and hugged Krzysztof, and he couldn’t hold the tears back. Neither could I. We were both standing right outside the door listening for the babies to start crying. I willed to hear them cry. I strained my ears to hear them cry. I wished and wished to hear them cry. I needed to hear them cry. I kept standing with my ear pressed to the gap in the door, waiting and wishing. Ten minutes had now passed – I was petrified something was wrong. I waited, and we waited, and we stood, and we paced and we looked each other in the eye; we told each other everything would be OK. I even tried to lift my spirits by thinking about the fact that they would have two birthdays now: today, 13 January Bangkok time, and 12 January UK time.
Suddenly I heard a door open. My heart nearly stopped. I gripped Krzysztof’s hand, wondering what was happening. A surgery nurse arrived and asked me to gown up. I was too scared to ask her any questions. I wanted to ask if everyone was OK. My adrenalin spiked like never before in my life. She asked me to follow her to the operating room. I was about to walk into theatre and meet both my babies! I had to leave Krzysztof outside the door and walk down the corridor. At each step I could feel my foot hit the ground, and as each pace brought me closer to the door, my ears were hurting as they strained to hear anything.
As I reached just a few steps from the door, I could hear the most wonderful sounds I have ever heard. It was like music flowing over me. Tears of joy rolled down my face. I could suddenly hear two babies crying, and I instantly knew they were ours. Two distinctive cries of two different babies. I opened the doors and my eyes fell upon them immediately. I had to wipe away the tears to focus on them as I walked towards them. Two beautiful sounding babies wrapped in green surgical material, adjusting to their surroundings. The most stunning sight I have ever seen, and the most stunning sounds I have ever heard. I could see and hear them. I walked towards them and said, ‘Hello, hello … I’m your dad. Hello, hello.’ I cried as I went over to them, to be close to them and hold them, and touch them and comfort them. I could see Grace too on the operating table, smiling and crying. The babies were healthy and crying too, and I was just in awe and connected to these two new lives in front of me. Leo was born first and then his sister, Olivia. I couldn’t tell who was who, as they were both wrapped up – I was just saying hello to both of them and looking at them. I’m sure a nurse told me who Leo was and who Olivia was, but all I could see were two little babies who I could recognise and love. I was scared to touch them, but I wanted to kiss them and cuddle them. It was an instant bond, not what I was expecting at all. It was different and powerful, amazing and stressful, but above all magical.
The nurse took some photos of us all and then it was time to move outside the operating theatre. The babies were a couple of minutes old and I was desperate for them to meet Krzysztof, their dad too. They were being cleaned up, wrapped up and put in their baskets so they could go out of the door to meet their dad. I kissed Grace and just said, ‘Thank you,’ over and over. I smiled at her through my tears of joy, and she smiled through hers. I could s
ee already they were about to begin sewing her up so I said I would see her when the operation was finished, and I wheeled both the babies, with the nurses, to meet their other dad. I opened the doors and proudly let Krzysztof meet his babies.
We looked at them, we talked to them. I watched Krzysztof talk to them, love them and gaze at them although we were all still moving along the corridor as the babies were in their delivery incubators. It was a moment filled with complete joy, but I was anxious too as the nurses wanted to get them to the nursery as soon as possible to weigh and monitor them. Krzysztof and I went up in the lift and hugged and kissed, and stood outside the nursery, looking through the glass to watch them clean the babies. I was concerned about their breathing and their hearts, and wanted to know what was going on at every movement and bleep of the machines. I could hear them both crying and sounding out this new world they were in. Their cries filled me with delight; every shriek I could hear told me they were breathing on their own. I continued to wait to go in to see them again inside the intensive care unit. I asked if Krzysztof could enter too, but they said only one parent would be allowed. I knew that at least he’d got to meet both his babies individually as we left the theatre. I would go in and report back to him, and he could see us all the time through the glass. The babies were both being helped with some oxygen, and although I was expecting this, it was daunting too.
I walked in and could see Leo first. He was bigger, crying and opening his eyes a little so I talked to him and told him I was his dad and said his other dad was outside and that I loved him. Olivia was beside him; she was facing her brother and had already started sleeping – with all the eventful craziness of them being plucked from their womb home, she was resting well, and I could see her little chest moving up and down. I told her too that I loved her and introduced myself as her dad. I tried to reassure her by laying my hand on her that I was there for her, and that I would look after her. I looked more closely at their faces and, certainly with Leo, I can only describe it like looking in a mirror. I seemed to recognise myself in him and, strange as that was, it was warming beyond belief. I looked at Olivia and I wanted to see her feet and her arms and her body to see how perfect and complete she was too, just like her brother. It was nearly 2am by this time, and the nurses said it was time to leave, but I could come back at 10am and see them again. It was so strange to be chatting and bonding quite easily with both babies. I expected it to be more difficult, but it wasn’t. It was natural, complex and beautiful. I tucked Leo into his little hospital crib and said ‘Happy birthday’ and ‘Goodnight’ and I said the same to Olivia.
Surrogacy Page 13