26th July 2014

7am

Sam had lasted a full day without experiencing contractions, but she had been anxious for the long, never ending hours as she was bedridden and worried sick about her babies. It had been almost 48 hours since she had been given the drug, and she still had Tom by her side, though he was awake - and in need of a shave - watching Sam who was asleep whilst the media and press camped outside in the dozens, hoping to get some news about the babies' birth.

Thankfully, extra time had brought Sam into the 32nd week of her pregnancy which had increased the viability of her babies further.

Slowly, as she began to arise from her slumber, she began to realise that she felt uncomfortable. She opened her eyes and then moved her legs and suddenly felt wet between her legs; she thought she had wet herself. But she couldn't let Tom know, could she?

"Morning." Tom smiled. "What do you want for breakfast?" He asked - now that she was in her third trimester, she had to aim to eat 6000 calories a day.
"I'm really not hungry." Sam stated causing a bit of confusion for both her and her husband because she was always hungry in the mornings - well she had been for the past few months anyway.
"Right, okay." Tom nodded reluctantly because he knew that labour could cause a lack of appetite and he didn't want to force her to eat if she didn't want to. "I think today might be the day, because that medication isn't going to last forever." Tom admitted, and as he did, Mr T entered the room.
"Ah, you're awake. Feeling any different at all?" He asked curiously and Sam fidgeted a little as she pulled the bed sheet to feel looser on her body to hide her wet patch between her legs, however moving the sheets caused suspicion from Mr T as he saw a small yellow tint to the colour of the usually white bed sheet. "What's happened?" He asked and he pulled back Sam's thin bed sheet to reveal a little puddle that she was sitting in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to I just woke up and-"
"Don't be sorry Sam, you can't help your waters breaking." Mr T stated.
"What?" Sam demanded after she had flushed red. "I-I thought I'd wet myself." She added bluntly.
"You're wearing a catheter." Mr T stated and Sam closed her eyes as she felt stupid. "Right, by the looks of the amount, it's only the forewater of one of your three amniotic sacs so nothing to panic about." He stated. "I'll just go and get someone to change your sheets and get you a new gown. And um, have you eaten anything today?" He asked but Sam shook her head. "Okay, I want you to avoid solids today, but to ensure that you're getting enough calories I can go and make you up a high calorie formula milkshake." He stated.

"That sounds disgusting." Sam grimaced.
"Well there's strawberry flavour, vanilla flavour or chocolate flavour." He stated and Sam's face lit up.
"Strawberry please." She smiled and he nodded before he disappeared.
"Why didn't you tell me you'd thought that you'd wet yourself?" Tom asked quietly.
"Because you would've laughed." Sam stated.
"But-"
"Be honest Tom, you would have wouldn't you?"
"I suppose so." He admitted and Sam folded her arms across her chest as she had proved her point.

9am
Unfortunately, contractions had begun once again for Sam and they were occurring once every 20-25 minutes. She was still restricted to her bed and hooked up to every monitor under the sun along with fluids, and she was frantically rubbing her hands over her bump - despite all the monitors - because she knew that within a couple of hours, she wouldn't have it anymore.
"You're doing really well Sam. Just keep taking deep breaths, well done." Tom smiled as he gently rubbed her arm.
"Right." Mr T began as he and a nurse entered the room. "Sam, we're ready to take you to theatre now." He stated and Sam tensed up before she managed a nod.
"It's all gonna be okay Sam, I'm gonna tell you every single detail about all of them and I'll bring you pictures as soon as I can." Tom stated as he held her hand whilst Mr T and the nurse put all of the monitors on the edge of Sam's bed.

"Right Sam, your anaesthetist is going to give you an epidural like we discussed, and then once that has kicked in, we can begin the c section. Don't forget about what we've discussed before, there will be a lot of people in the theatre, but they're all there for a reason." Mr T explained as they began to wheel Sam's bed out of the room and down the corridor...

Sam laid on the thin, hard operating table in the freezing cold theatre room and she felt intimidated by the vast number of people watching the procedure that she felt was a very personal one. There was a good dozen people in the gallery watching through the glass window, there was a neonatologist and a nurse besides each of the eight incubators ready to received the infants. There was Mr T and a scrub nurse ready to operate on Sam, her anaesthetist who was in charge of Sam's epidural and pain relief, and of course Tom was by her side.

Her bump was out in the open, no longer covered by the monitoring straps and there was a blue sheet as a screen to stop Sam from seeing the procedure as they were ready to start.

"Okay Sam, I'm going to make the first incision." Mr T stated as he picked up the scalpel. She felt cold on the operating table, and yet she was perspiring becuase of her rapid heartbeat as she anxiously awaited her family's future. She was completely numb in her lower half as Mr T made a straight cut along Sam's stretched and scarred abdomen.
"You're gonna be a mum, very soon." Tom smiled softly as he held Sam's hand on her chest. She laid there, staring at the ceiling in despair because now that the epidural had kicked in, she no longer had the comforting reassurance that her babies were alive as they squirmed inside of her because she couldn't feel them at all. And the sad thing was, was that she knew that she would never feel them inside her womb again.

She couldn't feel her babies, but she certainly felt all the eyes upon her which made her feel extremely self conscious because the only people that had previously seen Sam's bump without being covered was Tom, Fletch and Mr T. Now there were over thirty people looking as they all awaited the birth of the rarest kind.

The lights shining on here were far too bright, and she hated wearing the hospital gown and cap, but it was all for the benefit of her babies so she was willing to go through it all for her babies - not that she had a choice in the matter anyway.

It seemed like forever as Mr T sliced his way through the layers until he finally opened Sam's uterus. They room had been filled with silence that was only broken by the occasional warning of feeling pressure by Mr T and the frequent beeping of Sam's monitors.
"Okay, baby A is nearly with us, mum and dad." Mr T stated through his face mask as he used suction to get rid of the excess amniotic fluid - one of the sacs (belonging to the three boy's) had been broken, however the two sacs belonging to the five girls still remained in tact. Sam's hold on Tom's hand tightened as she felt apprehensive, so he put both hands around the one of hers for comfort. Sam moved a little on the bed as she felt the tugging in her abdomen for several minutes, before she finally felt a little of the pressure inside her disappear. "Baby A, let's get him straight to NICU." Mr T ordered as he gently handed the small newborn covered in blood and fluids to the first neonatologist.

"Is he breathing?" Sam croaked because she hadn't even caught a glimpse of her first baby and she certainly hadn't heard any crying or wailing. "Tom?" Sam pleaded.
"It's alright, he's being looked after. They're gonna take him to NICU so he can be evaluated remember." Tom said softly as he kept his grip on Sam's hand whilst he watched his firstborn be laid into the incubator - which looked massive for an infant of such a small size - and then rolled out of the room quickly.
"Right, baby A born at 10:06." Mr T announced because he knew that the nurse that was focussing on that baby would write it down.

From time going so slowly as they waited for the birth if their first baby, the time between baby A and baby G being born seemed to fly by as Sam couldn't catch a glimpse of any of her babies, and none of them had been crying though Baby B had been announced as breathing - just one out of the first seven.

They had all been born within a time span of six minutes, and there was just one baby to be born left: Baby H. The poorly little girl - that had been declared the smallest of them all as they saw on scans - had been squished at the very top of Sam's uterus and tucked slightly under her mother's ribcage.

"And here, is baby H." Mr T said softly as he gently held the whole of the tiny baby's body in just one of his hands and handed her to the final neonatologist.
"Tom, go." Sam said quietly because she wanted someone that the babies knew to be with them and she couldn't go anywhere just yet. "Go." Sam ordered and he finally let go of his wife's hand before he followed the final incubator out of the theatre.

"Right Sam, I need to deliver the three placentas, and then I'll close you up. Okay?" He asked as he poked his head around the blue screen to see the new mum, however as he saw a tear rolling down her face, he knew that he wasn't going to get a reply so he just got on with the task.

Once seventeen people plus eight small infants had left the room, the theatre almost seemed empty to Sam as she stared at the ceiling. She felt a soft but gloved thumb brush away the single tear that had escaped her eye and looked up to see her anaesthetist forcing a smile at her as he took her hand to replace Tom's position.
"They're all in safe hands." He whispered. "And I'm sure that they'll be patient to meet their mummy." He added because he didn't really know what to say to the distressed woman who was trying not to show any emotion.

She had just had eight babies taken from her womb. She had been through 'surgical birth' and yet she hadn't heard a single babble, cry, cough or sniffle from her babies. She only heard the medical jargon being shouted about the babies' conditions but she was going through far too much to try and interpret it.

Instead, she had to lie there whilst she was going to be 'closed up', not knowing about her babies - they were all critical when they left but at least they weren't technically pronounced dead, even if they weren't breathing. Without her husband for support, she had to stay there and just wait. Wait for what she did not know because there were many things that she could wait for: for her to be back on her feet, for her sons and daughters to die, for them to be discharged or even for them to begin breathing. But she didn't know when, or if, that was going to happen...

Thanks for reading, please review :)