I wish someone would have told me what consequences might happen after having babies. You never hear about the "could happen," but you always hear about the "supposed to happen."

It started back in June 2004 when after four years of trying to get pregnant we finally were. My husband and I only wanted one child because of all the mental anguish we had gone through and now we were finally pregnant and we just wanted this baby to be healthy and happy.

It was 13 weeks later on Friday the 13th (I will never forget that. I now think it is amusing, but then not so much) I was sent in for an ultrasound. I was very nervous and confused as to why at 13 weeks along they would send me in for an ultrasound, and all I could think of is that there was something wrong with the baby and we had gone so far yet we were so far away.

I went in and lay down on the table and the lady doing the ultrasound flipped the lights off and put the probe on my stomach. Then it happened. Two sacs. Yep, twins, to my surprise. All sorts of thoughts were spinning through my head and my thoughts were racing a mile a minute.

My mom and grandma were with me at the time, and me being an only child and very close to both my mom and grandma, I am glad that they were there except for my mom being in shock and my grandma crying.

I then had to go home and show my husband the baby, or should I say, babies pictures. My husband was cool with it and still to this day I don't have a clue if he was freaked out or not.

Throughout my pregnancy it wasn't too bad. Maybe that is because I was excited for being pregnant or because I was still in shock that our family was going from two to four in, like, minutes. The only thing was for the first 20 to 24 weeks I had severe morning sickness, morning noon, and night, so they had to put me on Zofran, which is a very expensive drug that is usually used for cancer patients so they are not vomiting all the time. At 26 weeks I was still was feeling pretty good and working full time, so I kept working and working, even though my OB wanted me to go on bed rest at 26 weeks. I was feeling good, healthy and why waste all my maternity leave even before my babies were here. I kept working full time until 33 1/2 weeks where I felt that it was time for me to take time for me, and to rest before there would be no time to rest for years.

At 34 weeks and 6 days I went in for my routine visit and ultrasound with my husband. They had a bit of concern because my protein was high. So they told me to get comfortable because I was spending the night in the hospital to be monitored. Also, there was a significant difference in the size of the babies' weights and they wanted me to see an ultrasound specialist in the morning.

So the next morning I was 35 weeks and my OB came in and said that she and my other OB had to deliver the babies now and that I needed to call my husband to get to the hospital and I should call my mom and grandma (who are both 200 miles away) to start on their way. At that moment I was devastated that my mom and grandma were not going to be here when the babies would be born.

So at 9:15 a.m. I called my husband, told him that he needed to get to the hospital (which was 35 minutes away) because they wanted to take the babies now. My husband was on his way, my mom and grandma were making the three-hour trip and they were prepping me for my Cesarean section and getting me ready to be a new mom of twins.

My husband just made it to the hospital (we were actually waiting for him to get there and get prepped to go into the OR). I then had a great C-section, with no problems at all. Owen Ryan was born on 1-28-05 at 10:11 a.m. weighing 5 pounds, 4 ounces, and Carson Alexander was born on 1-28-05 at 10:13 a.m. weighing 3 pounds, 11 ounces. Owen had the cord wrapped around his neck twice, but once cut I heard him cry and that was music to my ears. But I was only half done.

Carson had no issues. He was just tiny, and when I heard him cry I was so relieved that they were both pretty healthy considering they were taken from me five weeks early and they were not ready to be born yet.

They were rushed to the NICU where they would be taken care of. They then put me in a recovery room and my husband went down to see our sons.

Then Saturday night about midnight my husband was with me and I had taken a tragic turn for the worst. I told my husband that I couldn't feel my legs and to go get a doctor immediately. The nurse came in and I told her that I was numb all over and that I couldn't feel my legs and that I was feeling very nauseous and to please do something. My husband then knew something was very wrong when they had doctors, nurses, people from the lab coming in to take my blood. So he called my mom to guide her to the hospital because things were not right.

My mom then got there and, lucky for my husband and me, she works in a hospital and knew the questions to ask. My magnesium level was 19 (normal is 7) and they were giving me a blood transfusion. I had eight units of blood and was imploding. My blood pressure was 220 (I am four feet, 11 inches and before pregnancy weighed 110), which was extremely high. When they would try to draw my blood I was so swollen all over that they had to put an art line in me (which is a line that goes directly to an artery at my heart to be able to draw my blood).

My OB said they wanted to take me down to get a cat scan so they could see what was going on. While this was going on my blood work came back and my vital organs were starting to shut down and they had to get me in to the OR ASAP. They prepped me for another surgery (thinking they would have to give me a full hysterectomy at the age of 28) and had a liver/kidney specialist come in for me to see what was wrong.

After the second surgery I was in the CCU across from the nurses station (where they put the life/death situation patients) on a ventilator, a blood pressure monitor, morphine drip, two IVs, an art line, etc., and fighting for my life. I also acquired pneumonia in one of my lungs. After two days on a ventilator they took that out and started weaning me off of sedatives so they could see where my mind was at, etc. Then on February 1, 2005, they were asking me silly questions that I knew, but they were actually checking me for brain damage.

It took me until February 3 to get out of the CCU to go to the postpartum floor. Still very much drugged up, I had yet to see my precious boys. The NICU was awesome. They sent me cards and pictures and told me to get better soon so I could come and see them.

On February 4 at 10:30 p.m., both IVs in hand, I called a nurse and we waddled down to the third floor and I finally got to see Owen and Carson. That moment was the happiest moment of my life not only because I got to see them, but because I was alive and on my way to recovery and here to raise them.

I was in the hospital a total of 10 days, and Owen and Carson came home only four days later. I had two major surgeries, almost died and four days after I went home both newborn babies came home too, but on heart monitors.

I am very thankful for my family for helping us get through this difficult time, and I thank God every day that all this happened to me and not them. I was strong enough to fight, and every day I look at them I am just thankful to be here to see them grow.

After all is said and done, I went in for my postnatal checkup and my OB said that it was a close call and if they would have sent me home I would not have made it, and that not to have any more children because I won't make it next time. I have two healthy babies and shouldn't jeopardize that, my OB said.

The first year I always sum it up like this: Had the babies, almost died, got babies off heart monitors, went back to work, sold our house, packed, bought a new house, unpacked, holiday at work (work in retail) and had the boys' 1st birthday.

It has been two years and I remember it like yesterday. It has been a rough recovery for me emotionally because I was robbed of that bond I should have gotten to be a part of, and I gained 50 pounds because I was depressed, and had too much going on, etc.

I have now lost my 50 pounds and am back down to 110, and I am much closer to my sons. I would do it all again for them, and wouldn't change a thing.

I hope this story helps someone, and I wish someone would have told me about this HELLP syndrome and the affects that it could have on a person's life.