Jonathan and I had been married for 3 years when we decided it was time to grow our family. As many women do, I stopped birth control, received a clean bill of health from my gynecologist and began mentally decorating a nursery. Our nursery, however, took almost 4 years to become a reality. We endured the ugly mess of infertility and with each round of drugs, ultrasounds, appointments and procedures I would always reassure myself that “this” would work. However, I would also internally reassure myself that there was always IVFas a fail proof back-up plan. Then one day, I was given the incredulous unexplained infertility diagnosis and my always trusty back-up plan, suddenly because a little less fail proof. On August 24, 2015, I finally saw 2 pink lines on a pregnancy test. Three weeks later we went in for our first ultrasound and found out we were having our twins. We had waited three and a half years for a baby and God saw fit to give us two. My pregnancy proceeded without many issues and by all accounts I had a model pregnancy (for twins at least) until 30 weeks. One day at work, I noticed my feet swelling and decided to check my blood pressure, and it was incredibly high. Over the next 2 weeks, I went to the doctor every 3 days for a check-up. There are benefits to having your infertility doctor as your OBGYN because he took care of me and the twins as if I were his own. Every appointment had an ultrasound. At my 32 week appointment, he requested a growth scan. Assuming this was typical, I thought nothing of it. As the tech measured and measured she finally asked, “has Baby B always been smaller?” “Yes” I replied. “Usually by a few days. At our 20 week appointment, Baby A was 20 weeks 3 days and Baby B was 19 weeks 6 days. Why? Is B measuring small?” The answer was yes. B was measuring small. 4 weeks smaller. Baby A, our boy, Henry, was measuring 32 weeks 3 days, exactly my gestation. Baby B, our girl Amelia, measured 28 weeks. The next few days were a blur of activity. Immediately after that appointment, my blood pressure soared and I was admitted and put on magnesium to try and keep my body from seizing. Several cord studies were run and though Amelia was getting all the necessary nutrients, she was getting them at a slower pace. They discussed monitoring me for 2 weeks to get me to 34 weeks, but then just as quickly dismissed it and made the decision to take them at 32 weeks 5 days. I remember the moment they told me they were coming and everyone left the room and it was just me and the twins. I sobbed. 32 weeks. I still had 8 weeks to go for a normal pregnancy. I knew nothing about having premature babies, but in that moment could only recall horror stories of preemies who hadn’t survived. They had the NICU neonatologist, Dr. Lin at Willow Creek hospital, come down and assure me that if all was as it seemed, I had a 100% of taking home two healthy babies. At 7:03am and 7:05am on March 10, 2016, two of the tiniest humans I’d ever seen came into this world. Amelia Rose weighed a fit-n-trim 2lbs 14oz. Comparatively, Henry Remington weighed a “chunky” 4lbs, 5oz. If you had told me a year ago that I would deliver my twins prematurely and that the experience from delivery to discharge from the NICU would provide some of the biggest blessings of my year, I would’ve (initially) panicked, but then reaffirmed for myself that I was doing all the right things for my pregnancy and assured myself that it wouldn’t happen to me and dismissed it. Sometimes, I love being wrong. Don’t misunderstand; we had quite a journey over our 6 weeks in the Willow Creek NICU. Beginning with not being able to hold Henry for 5 days due to his umbilical artery cord, to Amelia’s stomach becoming distended and taking us almost back to square one on our “go home checklist” of necessary milestones, to Henry’s heart constantly undergoing “Brady events” (which required a heart monitor to be worn for 2 month post discharge) our stay was anything but mild. But, would I do it again? In a heartbeat. We see the twins’ preemie/NICU journey as a continuation of their story—the one God is writing for them. To being made 4 years later than we had planned to coming out 8 weeks earlier than expected, their lives have literally been a front row seat to God’s handiwork. Why would we ever change that? It’s because of their story we’re humbled and honored to be the 2017 March for Babies Mission Family and we’re challenged to ensure that each baby is afforded the same opportunity as ours. Won’t you join us on the front row?