Five years ago I was blessed with twin boys. Babies 6 and 7 came into the world after 17 hours of fruitless labor which ended in a c-section where the anesthesia didn’t take and the doctor didn’t listen when I told him I wasn’t numb. He made the first two incisions in spite of decided protest from me. But mercifully the anesthesiologist standing at my head swung into quick action and put me out of my misery for the remainder of the delivery.
I awoke confused and disoriented but grateful. However, the toll of a difficult pregnancy, traumatic delivery and a body that was depleted of natural vigor had worn me to the ground. A few days later, I returned home with my arms full and my nerves frayed. The following four years were a constant volley of health crises and doctor’s offices, including an ambulance ride and two surgical procedures.