The Burkett Bundle

One year ago:

One year ago today was probably the scariest day of my life.

I woke up feeling better, food tasted better and I had finally gotten the nurses to let me handle my own insulin needs. Jason had to go to work that day, so my mom took the day off to spend with me. With the diabetic eating schedule, I was eating every two and a half hours, and felt like a pretty demanding patient, so I was happy to have my mom there to help.

About halfway through the day, the nurse came in with leg circulation pumps. Because I wasn't allowed out of bed, hospital rules required that I use these to ensure that I did not develop any blood clots in my legs.

I didn't allow anyone to take pictures of me in the hospital, and can't find a picture online, but these were basically wraps that went from my ankle to my thigh. There were three zones in each, one around the ankle, one around the calf and one around the thigh. Each zone would inflate briefly, then deflate, first all the way up on the right leg, then on the left. They felt a little uncomfortable, but not too bad, and I was even able to sleep with them on.

Then, she asked if I wanted a neo-natal consult. I said yes, but not until Jason was there.

That evening, one of the neonatologists visited us. I was still a little "magged out", but I think her words were as shaking to Jason as they were to me.

The babies were almost 25 weeks. If born then, they would have a 50% chance of survival. Of that 50%, there was a 75% chance that they would have some sort of brain damage, causing them to be blind, deaf, crippled or in a permanent vegetable state. I was crying and trembling, and then she said the words that really struck the blow: "Before 26 weeks, you have the option of a DNR".

DNR, as in Do Not Resuscitate? My babies? Who I've wanted for so long? For what possible reason would anyone choose this option? These were our babies. I had felt them move, heard and seen their heartbeats, experienced their life inside my own. I loved them, and would do anything for them. I wanted them however God wanted to give them to me.

I thought for a second that I had imagined she said that, until she looked at us and asked if we wanted to exercise that option. We didn't even have to look at each other. Our answer was a unanimous, simultaneous, "Absolutely not."

She left that night and Jason held me as I cried and we prayed together.

Today:

Today is Prematurity Awareness Day, and the day to blog for a preemie baby that you love. Well, like every day, today I am blogging about two preemie miracles that I love more than life itself.

From the moment I saw two lines on the pregnancy test, I loved these babies, but it's funny how that love changes. From conception through their birth, I loved them simply because they existed. I loved them because they were part me and part Jason, and because they were such amazing gifts from God.

Today, I love them simply because they exist, but for so many more reasons as well.

I love Kyran for his shy, flirty smile, his big bear hugs, his "happy squeal", his "I'm in pain" cry, his warm eyes, his passion for food, his soft skin, his long eyelashes, his determination, his resilience, his patience, his belly laugh and far too many other things to name.

I love Karyssa for her big, bottom-teeth-showing smile, her tiny lips, the way she lays her head on my shoulder before bed time, because she knows I'll hold her a little longer, her angry cry, her delighted giggle, her dark, curious eyes, her silky skin, her I-can-do-it attitude, her persistence, and, again, far too many other things to name.

I just love getting to know them better every day. I still can't believe that God has chosen to bless us with two amazing babies, and the ability to cherish and appreciate them so much, knowing what might have been.

Kyran loved our PT's medical tape!

Karyssa just wanted to eat the frog!