I've gotten stuck on the birth story, and I think I've figured out why.
I like to analyze events, categorize them and package them neatly. With the twins' birth, I can't. There were so many factors, and even I don't fully understand what happened and why. I want to keep writing the story but I have to accept the fact that it doesn't make complete sense.
I've spent [too much] time replaying the sequence of events, and there are a couple questions I can't answer. Was my labor induced, or not? And did the babies have to be born quite as early as they were?
When Ambrose and Linus were in the NICU I struggled with the "what if?" questions because it was so painful having them in the hospital and I wished things could have gone differently. As I've gotten distance from the NICU time the babies' premature birth feels more like a blip than a tragedy and I've come to realize what an overwhelmingly positive outcome my pregnancy had, so I've been able to let those questions go.
The analytical part of me will always wonder, but the emotional part of me no longer needs the answers. Not having them makes the birth story hard to write, though.
Three months out from Linus's and Ambrose's birth, this is what I do know: although it became hard and awful when the nurses whisked my newborns away, the birth itself was a great experience. I mean "great" literally - it was a huge moment, one of the biggest of my life so far. Through my labor and delivery I felt respected, empowered, and proud of my body for what it was doing. My doctor and the L&D nurse who was dedicated to my care during the delivery were wonderful and Bryan was a rock.
I would've loved to have had zero pregnancy complications, a straightforward labor, and a full-term delivery. I didn't get those things. But considering what I did get, we sure made the best of a bad job.