5 Questions: Annie Juergens, Mother of Preemie Twin Girls

Sometimes the most significant life changes occur unexpectedly, such as during a phone call in a grocery store parking lot. For Annie Juergens, that call meant leaving Steamboat Springs in a matter of hours after a positive PPROM (preterm premature rupture of membranes) test and being flown to Denver, where she would spend the next month hospitalized at Children’s Hospital Colorado before giving birth to her preemie twin girls by emergency C-section at 28 weeks.

Juergens’ pregnancy had already been shaped by the unknown: twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome, an intrauterine surgery at 17 weeks and a growing sense in the weeks that followed that something wasn’t right. After doctors discovered what was wrong, Juergens was quickly thrust into the NICU’s disciplined, disorienting rhythm: long days in one small room, tiny milestones measured in ounces and the emotional whiplash of setbacks that can occur unexpectedly.

In this week’s 5 Questions, Juergens shares what it was like to meet her daughters at barely more than two and a half pounds, how the NICU team carried her family through fear and triumph and why the relationships formed between NICU parents can become their own kind of lifeline. She also talks about the hard-earned lesson of letting go of timelines and what she’s hoping for as her girls learn to feed, grow stronger and (eventually) come home together.

Your twins came early at 28 weeks. Tell us about the journey from Steamboat to Children’s Hospital. What were those last days like before the babies were born?

I never expected to be “that story” when it came to my babies and their birth being from a small town. I have always been healthy and expected my children to be so also. To be unexpectedly flown out from Steamboat to Children’s Hospital was a wild thing to wrap my head around. 

I had a feeling for a few weeks that something wasn’t right. I had an intrauterine surgery done while pregnant at 17 weeks to help fix our diagnosis of twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome and after that, my twins taught me that I never knew what to expect next. I brought up at three different appointments (I was 23-25 weeks along at this point) that I felt like I had ruptured my membranes and was losing amniotic fluid. When I was tested for this (a few hours before being flown out), I asked what happens if it comes back positive. My doctor actually said with a smirk, “Worst case scenario? We will cross that path if we get there.” She truly didn’t think it would come back with those results. 

Shortly after, I got a call in the Safeway parking lot saying I needed to get admitted ASAP for a positive PPROM (preterm premature rupture of membranes) test. I was unexpectedly plucked out of my life on a random Wednesday with a two-year-old at grandma’s, dishes in the sink at home and groceries in the car to be flown to Denver a few short hours later.

I was then hospitalized in Denver at Children’s Hospital for about a month before I had a placental abruption. The days leading up to this, again, I could tell something wasn’t right, but never having been pregnant with twins before, I couldn’t put my finger on it. What I thought were babies moving and turning for days leading up to the emergent c-section, ended up being contractions. Needless to say, I was still caught off guard when they said it was time to meet our babies at only 28 weeks along. The abruption happened and it happened fast.

What was your reaction to seeing such tiny little girls and what have your days been like since their births?   

To see full, living humans as small as our girls were is a surreal feeling. You can’t fathom something so small can survive (and eventually thrive!) outside of the body when God intended them to stay inside for so much longer. Our babies were 2lbs 8oz and 2lbs 10oz. It’s even more incredible to know that there are babies born half of our girls sizes or smaller that come out healthy in the end. 

You can’t help but to cry and be completely in awe of the sight of such small children, especially when they are your own. Pictures don’t do the perspective justice of just how tiny their little bodies were. The hardest part is seeing your baby hooked up to all sorts of wires and tubes and having to look through peepholes to see and feel and talk to them. No one can prepare your heart for not being able to hold your baby for days or weeks after they are born. It’s an extremely hard reality to get used to for a mama.

Days in the NICU are a rollercoaster. While every day feels like Groundhog Day, there is still so much variability. Yes, I sit for 12 hours a day in the same small room, but there is always a lot of stuff going on. Different staff members are in and out of the room all day long for a variety of reasons. You’re pumping, cleaning up, taking care of your babies the most you can all while pretending you are taking care of yourself too. You want to try and control as much of your babies’ worlds as possible in an environment where you have so little control overall. I personally made it a goal to help, contribute and control as much for them as I can do on a day-to-day basis.

How has the NICU team supported you and your family during setbacks and triumphs over these last months?

The entire staff at Children’s Hospital of Colorado has been a phenomenal team to work with. From the maternal-fetal medicine team to labor and delivery to the NICU, I couldn’t be more pleased with the support we have had. Every hard diagnosis, every surgery and every scare with our girls has been taken very seriously and we have been shown tremendous amounts of respect in the hardships. They are always there to give any knowledge you ask for, be emotional support as needed and really be genuine from human to human in a hard scenario. 

The NICU, well hospitals in general really, are a place that will quickly humble you when you think things are hard. You will hear stories of other children and babies or simply look down the hallway and remember there is always someone going through something harder today, but the staff never makes your story feel any less significant. They are also the first to jump for joy with every small victory. If that victory is a milestone with your baby, a win for the family you’ve been separated from for months over the mountains, or for you as a mama who took a small break for yourself today, they cheer you on every step of the way and truly create a full family dynamic for their healthcare.

What is your relationship like with other parents with newborns in the NICU? How do you celebrate milestones and comfort one another during losses?

I haven’t met many stronger women than the mamas I’ve met here. Although all of our babies are going through different things day to day, no one understands being in the same room for months at a time and how your heart feels watching your baby lie in an isolette or in a crib and all you want to do is comfort them and you can’t, quite like another NICU mom. We share the small victories, knowing how big of a step it is in our day and every time someone reaches one. It is genuine happiness for the other. We have become extra outlets for one another on days of anger, another embrace on days of weakness, and another cheer on days of joy. 

In a place where you can’t be with your best friends to have a coffee date, these women step into that role with open arms and let you know they understand and are there because when it comes down to it, there are very few people who truly understand the feelings of being days, weeks, months or more in the same four walls of the NICU.

What is the prognosis for your babies and when will they be able to come home?   

We are very fortunate in the way of our stay in the NICU. It’s something I don’t take lightly, and I definitely don’t take for granted. Although our pregnancy and birth and first three months of life so far have been an emotional experience, our babies are overall healthy now. With early respiratory issues and many a bumps and tremendous scares along the way, we are officially in a state of learning to feed and grow strong. 

That said, everything is on the girls’ time. We don’t have a date to go home at this moment, and I no longer get cocky or assume things after I have been proved very wrong more than once. We are working on learning how to eat and once we do that, we will be good to go. Unfortunately, we won’t be home for Christmas but in the end, our goal is to get both of our girls home safe, healthy and together.