An Unexpected Miracle: The Birth of Our Twins

The birth of our twins, Elouise and Jameson, was a journey filled with unexpected turns, deep emotions, and moments of profound connection. Beginning with a familiar craving at three weeks pregnant—strawberries with sour cream and sugar icing—that unmistakable sign I had come to know so well. This craving led me to take a pregnancy test, which showed a faint line. I immediately shared the news with my sister, best friend, and my “heart mama,” seeking their opinions and reassurance. As the days passed, the lines grew darker, confirming my suspicions. At ten weeks, I finally called my OB to schedule a blood test, which unexpectedly led to an urgent ultrasound. Fear gripped my heart as I remembered the loss of our second child, but the screen soon revealed a miracle: twins! My husband, Craig, was not with me during the ultrasound, so I rushed to his workplace to show him the photo. We were both in shock, filled with a whirlwind of emotions.

We never fathomed the possibility of twins; the excitement slightly clouded with concern as this pregnancy would be the most challenging to date for us. My first pregnancy had been marked by hyperemesis gravidarum and mild preeclampsia at 39 weeks. My second, we lost on New Years Day. My third child was born at 37 weeks due to high blood pressure. Now, with twins, my journey was fraught with sickness, exhaustion, and more hospital visits and appointments than I could count. In the 3rd trimester, severe anemia and climbing blood pressure added to the difficulties. At 33 weeks, I received a mild preeclampsia diagnosis and two steroid injections to aid the babies’ lung development. I also received 5 iron infusions over 10 days, to help aid in a safer delivery. At 36 weeks, severe preeclampsia and neurological symptoms prompted an emergency C-section, a procedure I had desperately hoped to avoid.

Baby A had been breech, so we scheduled a C-section for 37 weeks. But during the 35th week, dark spots appeared in my vision. My OB diagnosed severe preeclampsia due to my blood pressure and neurological symptoms at 36 weeks. He informed me that instead of waiting for our scheduled C-section, I needed one within hours. Terror set in. A C-section was NOT part of my birth plan. We had tried everything to avoid it—working with a doula, trying exercises to get the baby to flip, the ice/heat trick, and seeing a chiropractor three times a week. Nothing worked, and a C-section was the safest option. At that appointment, my OB wanted me to go directly to labor and delivery, but I begged him to let me run home to grab a few things - I needed to sew a very special set for the twins fresh 48 photos in the hospital. As a birth photographer, the photos throughout my journey were extremely important to me, which meant that I needed this swaddle set.

Returning home, I sewed my babies’ hospital hat, bow, and matching swaddles, brought the kids to grandma’s house, and headed back to the hospital for the emergency C-section. Upon arrival, I was greeted by my friend and photographer, Madalyn, whose presence brought me comfort. We had agreed to trade maternity, birth, and fresh 48 photos for each other. Through our sessions and my pregnancy, she has become someone that I could trust and call my friend. Knowing she was also a labor and delivery nurse was comforting as I began a journey full of fear. Then my husband, who had been working out of town and my heart mama, Cindy arrived - both being my rock through my last delivery. I received two IVs, one last ultrasound, and prepared for surgery. The walk into the OR room was nerve-wracking. I had been in the OR before. I’d watched cesarean sections before. This was different.

The spinal injection filled me with dread, but leaning into Craig’s arms provided solace. He held my hand through every scary needle and talked me through each procedure, reminding me I was not alone. Leaning into him during the spinal brought immense comfort. I also distinctly remember my anesthesiologist singing along to my Christian music during surgery. She knew every song as a believer herself, and her singing brought me a sense of peace. Despite the anxiety and fear, there were moments of profound intimacy and comfort. Craig, my husband, was my unwavering support. He attended to my every need, providing comfort during my worst moments of anxiety. Christ is Mine Forevermore.

During the surgery, I experienced a sudden drop in blood pressure, a sensation that made me feel like I was flying as they tilted the table and gave me medication. Despite my initial fears, the procedure itself was not frightening. I remember feeling a strange sense of detachment, wishing I could watch the birth unfold. The most unexpected effect was an intense and sudden need to itch. I took a rag to my face. I remember asking the staff to quite literally take my lips off of my face. I remember feeling a thirst that I had never felt before. I have never been that thirsty in my life. They gave me a wet cloth and it was very helpful. Afterward, I spent 24 hours on a magnesium drip for the preeclampsia, and time seemed to pass quickly.

Recovery has been smooth, aside from a bout with COVID that sent me to the ER. Thankfully, it wasn’t a complication from the surgery. Every doctor who examined my incision commented on how well it was healing, which brought me great satisfaction. I’m eager to return to my active lifestyle once my OB gives the all-clear. I miss riding and lifting, even though I’ll be starting from scratch. I’m back in the garden every day, slowly resuming the activities I love. I’m ready to organize my sewing office, book photography shoots, and dive back into Ellie’s homeschooling and co-ops. I thrive on being busy and active. 

However, I still feel a sense of trauma from the birth. I find myself lost in thought, struggling to wrap my mind around the experience. It feels as if my babies were taken from me, even though they are right here. I feel like I’m missing chunks of time and try to reclaim those lost moments. It’s a strange, unsettling feeling, but I hope writing my birth story will bring some healing. As a birth photographer, I’ve witnessed women lose all control in their birth plan. I’ve witnessed them grieve the entrance they wished their baby would have made to the world, the fear of cesarean, the fear of early delivery. I held on to the hope that my birth plan would keep, but every step along my pregnancy, I had to give up control. Perhaps God was giving me the opportunity to put my full faith in him.

The first few weeks have been a cyclone of emotions as my hormones stabilize. These are our last babies, a fact I have had time to process, but the days still fly by, and I struggle to capture every detail. While I don’t miss pregnancy, the abruptness of the C-section left me feeling robbed of the labor and delivery process I cherish. It is a strange transition from pregnancy to having the babies in my arms, a journey I have documented countless times for others but now understand on a deeper, more personal level.

The staff at the Women’s Center and Saint Francis Labor & Delivery were exceptional. My previous OB, Dr. Blake, who delivered John, recommended Dr. Wiley when she informed me she was no longer delivering. I was initially wary about choosing a male provider, but Dr. Wiley was the perfect fit for this pregnancy. His bedside manner brought me peace and comfort during the anxious parts of my pregnancy. I never felt ignored and always felt like my health and birth plan were prioritized. The staff, including my previous OB and nurse, remembered me and my babies, always greeting us warmly. Having the same nurse during my visits to labor and delivery, who developed a rapport with me, brought immense comfort. I’d also documented previous births for other women with many of these nurses as well as the providers, which reassured me that they knew the best way to bring these babies into the world while keeping me safe.

Reflecting on this birth, I realize it has shown me my strength. I am stronger than I ever knew. My body was made for this. Even when I felt I couldn’t push any further, I proved myself wrong and brought life into this world.

This past few weeks with the hormonal changes, has brought a flood of thoughts. These are most likely our last children. We want more kids, but the stress of life’s hardships, finances, the size of a home and car, and the increased risk to my health each pregnancy just don’t allow much wiggle room for more. The appointment is scheduled that will close this chapter of my life, and everyday I’m asking myself, asking God, asking my husband, if this door is ready to be closed.

Every moment flies by. I’m thankful I can capture most of the details, but it’s still overwhelming. I don’t miss being pregnant at all. Pregnancy has always been high-risk for me, and with preeclampsia, a rushed C-section, and strong medications, it feels strange not to be pregnant anymore. There was no long process of welcoming my babies into the world—it felt more like they were suddenly taken from me. I’ve always loved the labor and delivery process, which is why I love documenting it.

Watching John transform from a baby to a full-blown toddler in days, just like Ellie did when John was born, has been emotional. Suddenly, he’s gone from crawling to walking everywhere. Every little part of him seems huge now, and the presence of the tiny babies accentuates his growth. No one can prepare you for that emotional shift. A few days after coming home, he tried to put on his shoes when I mentioned getting shoes on. Even though he failed, the fact that he understood was mind-blowing. When he fussed about his nap, I couldn’t leave him until Craig could snuggle him, even though he usually fusses for just two minutes before falling asleep. Ellie, at three, now feels like a teenager in my heart. In a few weeks or months, routines will set in, and the change won’t seem so sudden.

This experience has profoundly changed my perspective as a birth photographer. I now fully understand why mothers plead to avoid C-sections and why they mourn when their birth plans change. While I am grateful for the procedure that kept me and my babies safe, it is essential to acknowledge the gap between our hopes and the reality of our experiences.

In the end, my birth story with Elouise and Jameson is a testament to resilience, faith, and the unbreakable bond between my husband and I. It is a story of unexpected challenges and the deep love that carried us through. As I navigate the complexities of this new chapter, I find strength in the knowledge that I was made for this, that my body was capable of bringing life into the world despite the obstacles. And through it all, the intimacy I shared with Craig remains my most cherished memory, a beacon of comfort and love in the midst all of the uncertainty.

From the Photographer’s Perspective by Madalyn Smith