By Kate Morrow
“On the night you were born, the moon shone with such wonder that the stars peeked in to see you and the night wind whispered, ‘Life will never be the same.’ Because there had never been anyone like you… ever in the world.” – Nancy Tillman
This was the first book I ever bought for my babies. In fact, I purchased it before I even knew they would exist, around the time my husband and I started having trouble getting pregnant. I have always loved this book. The words are so beautiful, and it was my traditional gift to friends and family with new bundles of joy. I bought it to give me hope, to give me joy, and to give me the confidence I would be a mother one day.
When we found out we were pregnant, the book eventually got moved to the room that would become the nursery. It sat alone on an empty dresser for months until we finally started to decorate. The book eventually transitioned into the fashionable diaper bag my mom gave me as a congratulations gift. The diaper bag hung on the hook in their room because it was a part of my “hospital packing list” for the eventual night we would go check in and deliver our babies. I had big plans of a beautiful night with our twins, reading them this book, snuggling and settling in as a new family of four.
Except, it never happened. Or at least not the way I expected. Not the way I had planned.
In August 2017, when I went into labor, the nursery was not complete. The hospital bag was never packed. I was 23 weeks pregnant and it was totally unexpected to be in labor. I went into immediate bedrest and a mentality of “fight for survival”. Things like “what baby book to pack for the hospital” became secondary. They became non-existent.
In fact, when I went into actual labor at 28 weeks, my husband and I raced out of the house. I was in ugly pajamas. Hair had not been washed in three days. Needed a pedicure bad. There was no hospital bag packed full of beautiful clothes for me and my new babies. Because the night they were born, was not a night I could have ever imagined. Not ever.
When we drove to the hospital, I was still in denial that they could come early. I thought this whole thing was far-fetched and I would surely hold out until 35 weeks and I still had time to pack my bag and my book.
After 45 minutes in the Labor and Deliver Unit, they were coming. In a whirlwind. They were raced off to the NICU immediately after taking their first breath. Without Momma getting to hold them. Without Momma really knowing if they were truly okay.
I was wheeled back to my hospital room alone with my husband. I laid there in absolutely shock, awe and terror. “What just happened?” “Were they really just born?” I felt like they had been ripped from inside me and there was nothing I could do to protect them anymore. It was not the night I imagined. Not the night I had planned.
This is where our story truly began. There is so much more to our own personal story of “The Night They Were Born” that I cannot wait to share with you chapter by chapter during this coming year.
But let me spoil the ending. After 76 days in the NICU, Jack and Lilly came home. They came home on the week of Thanksgiving. I got to pack a bag full of their coming home outfits, special blankets, and our very special Nancy Tillman book when we discharged them from the NICU. The day they came home felt like the “Night I was Born” as a Momma.
On that night, we settled in at home. No NICU monitors, no wires. Just us snuggled in our bed. And I finally read to them:
“Jack and Lilly – on the night you were born, the moon shone with such wonder that the stars peeked in to see you and the night wind whispered, ‘Life will never be the same.’ Because there had never been anyone like you… ever in the world.”