Binary

A previous reflection detailed the unusual circumstances of Amy’s pregnancy with Morgan and Carson, our Mo-Mo twins. That story omits one other complication experienced during her pregnancy. Just after we received the fantastic news that the boys were not Mo-Mo twins, Amy had a seizure and was diagnosed with epilepsy.

In the state of Wisconsin, an unexplained loss of consciousness requires the temporary suspension of your driver’s license for a period of three months with no exceptions.

In the era prior to working remote, this was incredibly inconvenient because Amy worked forty-five minutes from our home. Fortunately, Sue, a colleague who lived close by, stepped up and offered to drive Amy to work every morning. The only condition placed on this generous offer was that Amy had to promise not to go into labor during her commute.

Amy was not due until mid-January, but the doctor warned us that twins often come earlier than forty weeks. Then one morning in December, Amy woke up with a very bad backache. She took some ibuprofen before Sue picked her up, but she insisted on going to work.

Her backache worsened on the way. Sue instructed Amy to move her seat position all the way back and to try and relax. It did not work. After they arrived at the office, Amy proceeded to throw up in every sink on the way to her desk. Sue gently suggested to Amy that she was in labor, but Amy was doubtful because it did not feel like her labor with Claire.

I raced to pick her up, as regardless of cause, she should not have been at work. While we were on our way home, I asked her to try and focus on the source of her pain. “Where does it originate?” I asked.

It was then that Amy finally realized that the pains were contractions. We timed them while we were driving and found them to be only forty-five seconds apart. We called the doctor and diverted to the hospital. Our anxiety was elevated as we pulled in. The staff took her up to the maternity ward while I was parking the car. By the time I arrived, they had made Amy comfortable, and she had calmed down. The contractions began to taper off and she was finally able to relax.

Six or seven hours later, the nurse informed us that Amy was still dilated only five centimeters. Amy felt the urge to push a couple of minutes later. We paged the nurse and shared this information. She told us that it was doubtful Amy was ready as she was only five centimeters just a few minutes ago. Upon inspection, however, the nurse exclaimed that Amy was fully dilated.

The nurse called into her phone and suddenly everything was a whirlwind of activity. They wanted Amy to deliver the twins in the operating room in case they needed to perform a C-section. Within two minutes, we were surrounded by four or five nurses, and they rolled Amy down the hallway to the operating room. At the entryway, they asked me to wait for another nurse so that I could get gowned up. As they wheeled Amy into the room, we made eye contact, and I could tell Amy was suddenly nervous.

I donned my gown and mask as quickly as possible so that I could rejoin Amy. When I entered the room, I could see Amy visibly relax when she saw me. I quickly moved to her side to hold her hand. This time, I took off my wedding ring so she could not bend the ring again.

The doctor entered the room and within minutes, Morgan arrived in the world at five pounds, eleven ounces. There was a complication with Carson, however. He was in the wrong position. The doctor asked that Amy not push. This was easier said than done. Amy and I looked at each other and we began to sing “Walking in a Winter Wonderland.” The nurses looked at us like we were crazy. It must have been a first for their delivery room.

The doctor worked her magic and was able to turn Carson into position for delivery after about fifteen minutes, and he arrived soon after, also weighing in at five pounds, eleven ounces. The twins were within two-tenths of an ounce of each other. The doctor had never seen twins that close together in weight before.

As the years passed, Morgan and Carson were inseparable. Their worlds orbited around each other in all things. In the rare circumstances they had to go different directions for an evening, Amy and I found it hilarious that the first words either of them would utter upon entering the door were where’s Morgan or where’s Carson, never hello or hi, Mom and Dad.

Upon graduation, they were accepted to a variety of colleges. Carson was headed to a junior college in Iowa to play baseball. Amy, Claire, Morgan, and I had a very rare dinner out together without Carson. When we asked Morgan about his thoughts on where he wanted to go, he burst into tears and said he was not ready to leave his brother. Thus, they both spent their freshman year in college in the corn fields of Iowa before transferring to the University of Wisconsin-La Crosse the following year.

They pursued the same career in law enforcement, bought the same midnight blue Dodge Ram truck, and their first jobs out of college were both with the Madison Police Department. There is an uncanny connection between the two that I doubt will ever be broken. Their worlds truly are binary.