Avery's eating!

I'm feeding Avery her first bottle.

Noel feeding Lily her first bottle

Our girls are 16 days old today. They also drank their first bottles. It was amazing to see both girls take to them so naturally. The doctors and nurses had prepared us for the possibility that the girls might not be able to do it yet. They might choke, sputter, or just not know what to do at all. Not the case with the Villarreal Twins! Avery cheerfully sucked down her entire bottle in twenty minutes. Lily took to hers very well; but after eating half of it, she fell so sound asleep that she didn’t finish the rest! The good thing is that they both still have their feeding tubes, so she got the rest of her feeding that way. Tomorrow we’ll give them one bottle again. Gradually the doctor will replace more tube feedings with bottle feedings. Both babies are just a smidge under 4 lbs.

This week I’ve been thinking of Matthew 6:11 over and over again, one of the most famous scriptures in the Bible: “Give us this day our daily bread.” God will give us exactly what we need for each day. There’s no need to worry, because tomorrow He will give you what you need for tomorrow. When the Israelites were wandering in the desert for forty years, God gave them manna every morning with the instruction of taking only what they needed for that day. In other words, don’t try to store up the manna for tomorrow. They had to trust God, relying on Him for each day’s nourishment.

Many of you who know me also know that I have sort of a “steam roller” personality. When I’m being more complimentary, I call myself goal-oriented. Once I set my sights on an objective, there’s very little that will stop me from its pursuit. There have been times when this trait is an asset, but I’m learning more and more that I need to temper it with patience. I would love it if there were something I could do to bring my babies home faster, but there’s just not. Noel and I jump in the car every morning and get to the hospital as early as we can, brimming with excitement. We hold our babies; we rock them; we cuddle them; we give them every ounce of love we have. That’s really all we can do. We’re relying on God to give us and our babies exactly what we need for today. We can’t worry about tomorrow or next week or what date exactly our daughters will be discharged, but we can rest assured that God will provide what is needed for this day.

The girls wear clothes now! The nurses seem to really enjoy changing their outfits multiple times a day.
Lily, our little cuddle bug!

Avery, our little wiggle worm!

I was discharged from the hospital on Sunday, January 15th; a mere five days after Avery and Lily were born. Days ahead of time, I began dreading being discharged. How in the world was I going to walk out of those doors, get in the car, and drive away, leaving our babies behind? I knew that I would physically have to do just that, but I didn’t imagine I would be able to do it without an emotional meltdown. As we were packing up the room Sunday morning, I would dissolve into tears every few minutes. I was also unduly afraid of having my staples removed, which proved to be totally painless. After all, I pay money to have steaming hot wax applied to my upper eyelids by a so-called professional and then the tiny hairs ripped out by the root. I’ve experienced far greater pain in the pursuit of beauty than I did from the staple removal. All morning long, I would repeat in my mind, “Please God; Please God; Please God.” I didn’t even know what to ask for. I couldn’t ask to stay in the hospital. I couldn’t ask for my girls to come home with me. Just “Please God,” over and over again, hoping He would fill in the blanks for me.

Once all the discharge papers were signed, the staples removed from my incision, and Noel had packed the last of our stuff into the car, we headed to the NICU. I even dreaded going to see the girls before we left, because I just knew I was going to fall apart into some weeping train wreck. When we got there, the nurse asked if we’d like to do Kangaroo Care. We’d heard this term, but we didn’t know exactly what it meant. The nurse explained that Kangaroo Care, or skin-to-skin care, is when they tuck the baby into the front of your shirt so that her skin would be directly in contact with your skin. Research shows that this type of contact helps preemies breathe easier, relax more, and even grow faster. We were happy to try it. The nurse put two recliner chairs next to each other, in between the girls’ incubators, helped us settle a girl on to each of our chests, placed some blankets on top of them, put up a partition around us, and even dimmed the lights. There we sat; each with a daughter atop our hearts, and God gave us the most beautiful gift of peace. Both girls instantly went sound asleep, and we were washed with a wave of the most profound tranquility. No spa in the world has ever succeeded in creating an environment of such perfect serenity. I have no words to describe it other than a peace that passes understanding. God answered my plea when I didn’t even know what to ask Him for. We spent an hour and a half with our girls resting on our hearts. When it was time to go, I was able to leave the hospital in a state of total calm, knowing that it was nothing short of a state of grace granted to me by Our Lord. I came home and was able to get some much needed rest. Noel and I spend every morning at the hospital, doing Kangaroo Care with our girls. It has been an amazing gift to all four of us. The girls are growing every day, and Noel and I feel peaceful and assured that they are in His hands. I have had the blessing to experience in the most tangible way what the Apostle Paul described in Phillipians 4:6-7, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” God blessed me with just such a peace, a peace that passed all understanding.

Avery and Lily left the NICU on Thursday, January 19th, at just 8 days old. They have no medical problems and take no medication at all. They’re happily eating an ounce every three hours and continue to melt the hearts of everyone who sees them. The nurses say they’re on the “feed ‘em and grow ‘em” program. Next week they’ll start trying to feed from bottles. All that stands between them and coming home is gaining about a half of a pound each and transitioning to feed solely from bottles and not from a feeding tube. Please continue to pray for their growth and development. I know they’ll be home with us in no time at all.

Avery and her daddy

Here are a couple of pictures of the girls to tide you over for a few paragraphs.

Lily, 1 week old

Avery, 1 week old

Every parent looks at their newborn with awe and wonder at this tiny new creation, as they well should! I cannot help but look at our girls and think of how they are fearfully and wonderfully made. The majesty of God’s creation overwhelms me. During my hospital stay I was followed by a team of Endocrinologists. I’m familiar with this type of specialist since I’ve had to be under that type of care for over two decades now. These were the happiest Endocrinologists in the world! They had stumbled on to the jackpot of their careers! A Panhypopituitarian who’s pregnant with twins!! They’ll go the rest of the lives and never be so lucky to have one like me cross their paths. On a regular basis I’d hold court of almost a dozen of them in my hospital room as they eagerly discussed my current state. They wrote out all the plans for how the delivery should go from the Endocrine standpoint and then were forced to wait like the rest of us. On Wednesday afternoon of last week, the whole crew found me in my post partum room. They were thrilled with the success of the delivery but most chagrinned at having missed it! They were supposed to be called if I went into labor and one of them would have been present. They didn’t even know I had delivered until they went to my old room and found me gone. Anyway, they were still overjoyed with the great success of their “little science project.” It was then that they began telling me just what a long shot the whole thing was, from conceiving to delivering the strong babies to my good physical tolerance of the delivery. It’s always nice to hear the doctors reminisce about just how lucky you are things went well. What speaks to my heart now are a few science facts they shared with me that further reveals God’s miraculous hand in our lives.
The most important medication I take every day is Cortisone. I can’t live one day without it. I can’t even make it a few hours into the day without my morning dose. When I get sick, I take an increased dose. If I’m thrown into a physical crisis I have to be injected with a large shot of it into a muscle. My parents and Noel have had to do this for me on more occassions than I’d like to recall. In the case of surgery, I have to receive it directly into my veins through an IV, which is what happened during delivery. What astounds me now is that the Endocrinologists theorize that it’s the very Cortisone I depend on that helped our girls develop a little faster than they should have. My disability, my complete dependence and frailty, God turned into our daughters’ strength. How can I not fall to my knees before my Lord when I know He used my greatest weakness to protect Avery and Lily? The doctors then told me how the increased level of stress in my womb also pushed the girls into a more rapid pace of development. The stress was a combination of the twin pregnancy, my own health issues, and that Avery had ruptured her amniotic sac. All of these factors together gave the girls’ system that extra push to get ready to be born. When all of these things should be negatives, God used them to show how He has us all in His hands. He is the God of our creation, the architect of life. There is no weakness He cannot grab hold of and turn into the greatest strength.
Our girls were born at 31 weeks 5 days of gestation, when a full-term, singleton pregnancy is 40 weeks. The neonatologist enthusiastically reported to us after the girls were just hours old that they were both sucking pacifiers. When she saw that I was not impressed, she further explained that they should not have the sucking reflex for a few more weeks! At one week old, they need neither respiratory assistance nor IVs; they regulate their own body temperature and eat formula! Every day they surprise us with what they’re already doing. They’re moving out of the NICU on Friday and are one step closer to home. They may be small, but they are mighty!
To God be the glory for these lives, fearfully and wonderfully made.

Lily having tummy time

Avery enjoying her pacifer

I’d like to share a brief testimony with you and then tell you all about the birth of our daughters.
Many of you reading this know that I have dealt with a lifelong medical problem since I was 7 years old. The past 24 years have been a delicate balance of medications that enable me to live what resembles a normal life. My ability to bear children has been highly debatable, until two days ago. Within the first week of pregnancy, I became so ill that I was hospitalized for two weeks, 9 days of which I was in intensive care. Upon returning home, I was too sick to walk upstairs to our bedroom for almost a month. Forced to sleep on the couch, I was increasingly plagued with insomnia and my mind fixated on the most fearful thoughts. I had no faith in my body to bear these babies whom I already loved so dearly. I was so debilitated at such an early stage of pregnancy, I couldn’t trust my body to do what it should naturally. I became consumed with the question, “How can I survive the pain of losing our babies?” In the wee hours of a sleepless night, just like many preceding it, I silently wept and prayed to God that our babies would be “alright.” Suddenly a thought filled my mind, pushing all fears aside, and I knew God was speaking to me. He said, “Rebekah, I know more about this pain than you ever will, because I GAVE my son for you. You are not alone. I am with you.” I’ve always known that God cares for us, but more profoundly, He has felt all of our pain on the deepest level. He is with us in our pain, and He felt it for Himself. There is no pain we experience that He has not known more profoundly than we can comprehend. Since I was a little child, I’ve known that Jesus came to die for my sins, but until I faced parenthood I never truly understood the magnitude of what it meant for God to give us His son. I have no doubt that all of you parents would immediately lay down your life for your child, but would any of us give up the life of our child? I was able to proceed confidently in my pregnancy, not because God promised smooth sailing, but because I knew He was with me at every step. When the load became too heavy, He would carry me and our babies. Until I was in the recovery room after the birth of our lttle angels, I only shared this experience with Noel, who was well aware of my struggle and going through it with me. It was also the most intensely personal moment I have ever spent with the Lord. In the recovery room, I shared this story with my dad. He felt it to be a testimony of God’s grace. I choose to share it with you now in hopes that it encourages someone else as it has me.
On the evening of December 27, I was lounging on the couch when Little Miss Avery Rose decided it was time to get this show on the road. I jumped off the couch as fast as any pregnant woman has ever jumped off a couch and hurried to the bathroom to ascertain what had happened. On closer inspection, I knew there were two possibilities. I had either wet my pants, or my water had broken. It is the only time in my life in which wetting my pants would be the preferred situation. I called my doctor, who said to get to labor and delivery immediately. I called Noel, and said in my calmest voice, “I believe my water has broken,” to which he replied, “What?!?”. I said again, “My water has broken,” and again he said, “What?!?” After a few more rounds of this, Noel lit out for the house, deposited me in the front seat of the car on top a pile of beach towels, and got us to the hospital in record time. The doctor confirmed that Avery had broken her amniotic sac, and I had not wet my pants as we had all hoped. The good news was that I was not in labor, and that I could stay as I was for up to a month. The bad news was that I had to stay in the hospital. Our serene Lily was blissfully unaware that anything had happened and continued to float comfortably in her water bed. After two weeks of rest in the hospital, Avery decided she regretted forfeiting her own water bed. She promptly turned herself from breech to head down and full blown labor began.
Around 12:30 AM on Wednesday, I was rushed to the O.R. and Noel was outfitted for surgery. In the O.R., the anesthesiologist gave me a spinal block, which is a shot in the spine that numbs the body from mid-back to toes.  It was faster than an epidural. I was laid out flat on my back, arms outstretched, and a drape hung to block “the view.”  Noel soon joined me, decked out in a blue jumpsuit, paper hat, and mask.  I was struggling not to tremble, probably a combination of nerves and fatigue.  God bless the anesthesiologist!  He wrapped my arms and chest in thick blankets and placed a wide, plastic tube underneath that blew warm air on me.  It helped comfort me tremendously.  Noel said my eyes were wide open and darting back and forth.  I explained later that I was intently listening for the doctors to announce the birth of the babies.  The announcement wouldn’t come!  Finally we heard someone loudly state the time, 1:32 AM!  Then the sweetest sound imaginable filled the room, the strong cry of our daughter Avery.  Seconds later, the time was called out again, 1:33 AM!  The doctor held up Lily and lowered the drape so we could see her. She looked so healthy and strong.  Within moments we heard her cry fill the room.  Noel was taken over to see them both.  A nurse brought Avery to me, all bundled up.  It is a moment I will never forget.  I saw my daughter’s face for the first time, her full red lips and rosy complexion.  Before taking her away, the nurse brought her in close enough for me to kiss her precious cheek.  Both girls were nestled together in an incubator and wheeled close enough to me so that I could get one more glimpse of Lily before they headed to the NICU.
Again, God bless that anesthesiologist!  Once the girl were delivered, he gave me some lovely medication in my IV that made me drowsy for the remainder of the surgery.  I count it a blessing to not have been totally alert for them stitching me back up.  Time seemed to pass quickly, and before I knew it I was in the Recovery Room, alert and chatting with Dad and Noel, and feeling no pain.  Within an hour, I was transferred to a post partum room.  One last time, God bless that anesthesiologist!  He sent up a hefty dose of morphine, which knocked me out and gave Noel, Mom, and Dad the chance to slip off to the NICU.  I was thrilled to hear from them later just how wonderful the girls were doing.
I have received many requests for pictures.  I promise I will post some after we have completed our negotiations with all the major magazines.  I’m certain that “People Magazine” and “Us Weekly” will be submitting substantial offers for the photo rights of our little beauties any day now.  Truly, we are going to bombard you with pictures in the coming weeks, months, and years, so you should enjoy this respite before the photo deluge.  Avery weighed 3 lbs 6 oz and was 15.5″ long at birth.  Lily, our “big” girl, was 3 lbs 8 oz and 16.9″ long.  They both have slender hands and feet and full lips, thanks to their daddy!  I think they have my nose and ears!  Both girls are rosy complected and have the most smoochable, chubby cheeks.  Both girls have hair that looks like it wants to curl.  Avery’s is darker brown, but Lily’s has touches of gold in it.  Remarkably for their age, they are perfectly formed newborns, just in miniature size.  Both have strong hearts and lungs and are already being fed formula.  They are both cheeky enough to push their nurses’s hands away when they want to be left alone. They stretch out their arms, legs, and backs, and even scoot themselves around their beds.  They have to pass a few benchmarks before going home, such as fitting safely in a car seat, sucking/breathing/swallowing at the same time, and maintaining their body temperature.  The doctors have said it could be as soon as two weeks. For now we are taking it one moment at a time.  I’m recovering well for just having had surgery two days ago and am enjoying being able to spend time with our girls.  I’ve gotten to hold them both and look forward to many more hours of snuggling.
I want to thank my parents for inspiring me to live a life of courage, unhindered by my medical obstacles.  Without their support, I would not have had the confidence to reach out and grab hold of the life of my dreams.  I thank Noel for choosing to walk side by side with me through this life of risk and uncertainty, but mostly of tremendous love and great joy.  He is my partner; he is my protector; he is the man of my life; he is the father of my children. I count myself most blessed among women.  Above all else, I thank my Lord and Savior Christ Jesus.  He came to give us life, and He has given me life abundantly.
With love and praise in my heart,
Rebekah