Have had some kicks in my ass today that were so hard they caused my entire body to shake. Seriously.
Archive for June, 2009
Taken 28 June, when 31 weeks 5 days pregnant!
And now, some great pictures of me and Aussie!! Same day as the ones above (hence the same clothing!). Aussie is 21 weeks 1 day pregnant with one baby….who is of course already a great friend of our babies.
Go on, say it. We are hot baby mommas!
A note on tank tops: if they fit the milk-makers, they do not fit the bump. If they fit the bump, they will fall off my shoulders and expose the milk-makers.
Have had another biggish break from the laptop. This is partially due to not being bothered to turn it on, having a few bad days, napping, new entertainment forms TMD has arranged, etc. And lots going on! So here it is, the highlights of the past few days.
I realised after the last entry that I had forgotten one massive pregnancy symptom. Every time I sit up or stand up, big ass burps (that smell) rumble out of me. It’s like instant volcano burps from changing position. Okay, we can move on now that I’ve documented that.
Onto last Thursday’s midwife appointment.
We saw the lovely lady from waaaaaaaay back – the nice midwife supervisor who actually sorted out our notes, booking appointment, etc. I love her. LOVE. The appointment was pretty standard – checked urine, blood pressure (back to normal, thank god!), etc. She didn’t make me get up on the examining table as it really is too difficult these days, so she did the heartbeats while I was sitting in my chair. This was such a thoughtful little gesture and I was impressed! The only downside to no tabling is no measuring of my fundal height – and I am DEAD curious to see exactly ‘how pregnant’ my uterus seems. I can’t quite figure out where the top of it is, or else I would make TMD measure it at home. Might do anyway.
She also couldn’t palpitate my tummy, but she put Mano’s position as ‘? head down’ in the notes because his heartbeat was so fucking low. We’re talking like pubic hair low, but off to one side. It also hurt like a maniac, so there is definitely some Mano bits way down under. I don’t know if I buy the whole head down thing, though I will say I am no longer feeling his kicks in my ass, but his squirming. So maybe.
I asked about my bump being so much lower and how I could now breathe, not throw up after eating, etc. She said that the baby (again, Mano) could have engaged, and that she certainly hoped it was his head that had done so, not another part.
Little Torre was, again, her usual superstar self with holding nice and still for heartbeat finding, etc. She doesn’t seem to change positions as much as Mano. At this point in the pregnancy (well, and for a good few weeks, actually) her heartbeat is consistently higher than his. The midwives all make a point of saying that little girls usually do have a higher heartrate. It’s so interesting in a medical sort of way. I don’t know. For the whole huge chunk of pregnancy, they had matching identical heartbeats. Then came a point when they ‘split’ – Torre stayed high, Mano went a bit lower. They also sound really different.
Midwife also said I needed to stop dicking around and get a wheelchair. She said it wasn’t really a choice anymore. (No, I haven’t ordered it at this point.) What else. Oh! She offered to do home visits to come see me for all remaining appointments!! THAT IS SO NICE. Can this be the same health service that once put an ace bandage on a broken bone and told me I would be fine?!?
While we’re on the medical side of things, let’s talk about my nipples. Yowsa. They have been tipped with white since very early in pregnancy. Then it moved to looking like a dried white lotion coming out. Left nipple – lots of little holes. Right nipple – mainly one giant hole. Left nipple has also taken to stinging like a son of a bitch at the slightest provocation, and both are very tender.
TMD got in a car accident. Don’t worry. She is fine. Our car is not-so-fine, and now on top of everything else she needs to sort out the payment with the dude who hit her, getting the car fixed, etc.
Sunday night Marmite got all fucked up. I heard TMD on the phone with someone at 11:30 pm and was like, who the fuck is she talking to this time of night – and about the cat, of all things? Yes. Marmite was angrily moving around the flat, very deliberately and slowly, with her tail swishing from side to side. Then she would freeze and make these slurpy noises – and she was FOAMING. Seriously. She looked like she had a Santa beard.
This foam was everywhere – every room of the house. TMD rushed her to an emergency animal hospital; Marmite gets carsick regularly and puked in the car, and that stopped the foaming. Vet couldn’t find anything wrong, and thinks she ingested a bad plant or something. He gave her an anti-nausea shot. Marmite was still a bit funny yesterday, sleeping most of the day, but I think she is pretty much back to normal.
But, yet again, TMD was up waaaaaaaay past when she should have been, driving our sick little baby kitty all over the fucking place. I feel so bad for all the shit TMD has to do.
And speaking of wonderful wives, she has gone all out to try to provide me with new ways to pass the time. She bought me a kick ass Charlie & Lola magazine I could play with, some coloured pencils, and a book of optical illusion patterns to colour in. She also got me a new DS game, which is essentially a Where’s Waldo searching type of game; I have passed a lot of time with this little fucker. Good times.
Let’s see. What else. Lots and lots of ‘tightenings’ lately, though I am sometimes still unclear if it is a tightening or simply a big ass baby body pushing out against my tummy. Yesterday I was CRUSHED TMD missed something special – and that I didn’t have the camera with me on the couch so I could show you guys, too.
The left side of my bump shot out two inches higher than the right. My bump was like a child’s drawing of waves on the ocean. Left side really high up, right side dipping in. It stayed that way for about four or five minutes.
These little babies are getting bigger every day, and it’s apparent in their movements, the sheer weight of my bump, the growing field of stretchmarks, and every passing day. When I am sitting up (no small feat since some large part of baby is back in my ribs and every movement feels like I am getting stabbed!), my bump goes MORE than halfway down my thigh. Draw a line between your knees and your hips, and then imagine an inch or so beyond that. My bump sits on my lap and jesus is it heavy! I’m 32 weeks pregnant with them today, and am getting excited to meet them. Six more weeks!! We have baby clothes hanging up in the lounge, and they are so fucking sweet and tiny I could just melt.
The odd thing is that I can think they aren’t moving, but when I put my hands on my stomach I can feel lots of squirming and stretching from the outside. I still can’t tell what is what, though we both felt a little knee/elbow/leg/something yesterday. BLESS.
I can’t wait to find out their estimate fetal weights on Friday. I have a feeling we are growing some very good sized twins in there!!
Ooh – one last thing. Have had some painful tingling in my left foot (twice) and left hand (once). This is one of those fabled pregnancy symptoms I have not yet felt. I seem to be missing out on all the small annoyances and skipping straight to wanting a constant supply of ice on my crotch. AND NO UNDERWEAR FITS ME. NONE. I constantly have big ass creases (big ass in both senses of the word – literally large creases in my ass, and so forth) from the elastic. I am considering taking scissors and just cutting into the elastic at key points. Underwear mutilation 101.
O-chay. About to upload new bump pictures.
In the meantime, I would like to say:
You are getting so big and becoming little people! Please do not push on my crotch – trust me, it is boiling hot outside and you are better off in your temperature controlled environs for a bit longer.
Plus, we still haven’t finished building your cot, buying you stuff, etc. You will be like, what? I was all cramped and shit and THIS is my reward for making an appearance?
Six more weeks, babies. That’s all.
We love you!
Bumpie has definitely dropped. I don’t know what this means in pregnancy terms, just in aesthetic and practical terms. For instance, I’ve noticed I can breathe again. Not to say I’m not still huffing and puffing like someone making a dirty phone call, but it does not have the desperation of someone who has just run a marathon.
And – waaaaaaaait for it – last night I changed position.
Last night was a particularly bad night; it featured lots of crying and tailbone pain. Poor TMD was so fucking tired, and I just kept crying. Eventually I was so pissed I said I wanted to try lying on my side. So…with a little crafty pillow rearranging, I got over onto my left side (slightly propped) and managed to stay this way for about an hour or so. This is the first time in over what must be TWO MONTHS that I have changed position (in day or night). This is a big deal.
I may ‘treat’ myself this evening with some more side lying before bed. It takes a lot of the pressure off my lovely ass, and also spices things up for the babies. Their movements were definitely freer when I was on my side.
Jebus. Having a big Braxton Hicks right now. Hang on.
Meet my new friends, stretch marks:
It’s one specific patch of my tummy that has them, and I feel an uneasy sort of fascination with them. I found a website about twin pregnancies yesterday, and they had a belly gallery of ‘twin skin.’ My stomach looks like twin skin right now, except it’s nice and firm rather than….floppy? Wrinkly? I don’t know quite the right term. LIke seersucker fabric, but made from human skin.
Trying to think if there is any other pregnancy symptoms worth noting for posterity. Oh, pee, I suppose. Since The Bump Dropped, I have to pee. A lot. I have not had a very pee-a-licious pregnancy, even in the notorious first trimester. Now I have to have a solid pee about once an hour. And I could probably sit on the toilet all day, because I am never finished peeing. Because of the way the babies are pushing down (and in particular, the way the little boy is very low down just over the bladder), I can never really get all the pee out. I have to ‘squeeze the orange.’ This essentially involves leaning forward after I have ‘finished’ peeing and wait for the next deluge as my bladder shifts into a new position.
Ooh. Have to go pee now, actually.
Really bad. Bye!
This is how I was dressed all day:
This is where I spend all my time (feel free to ignore the extreme clutter. Yes, every piece of clutter is in that room because I am pregnant. But that is for another post.) :
You see how close I am to the patio doors? Imagine what it is like to be wearing a bra, naked belly, and a skirt pulled up to here. Comfy, right?
Now imagine the gardener man, his face essentially smashed up against the patio doors while he weedwacks the border of grass to patio. This is what he sees:
I still can’t decide if I care about my new career as a pregnant exhibitionist. The conversation with Cookie is still echoing in my mind, where I explained to her that if I were an axe murderer/gardener, I would certainly choose a heavily pregnant lady on crutches with her patio doors open as a victim. At the very least, she would be the easiest to duct tape to her couch while I made off with her giant green reclining chair.
(You see that green chair? At night TMD takes it apart, puts the cushion on the floor next to my couch, and sleeps there.)
So, I’m feeling more sane after Friday’s breakdown. The pain is not as acute, and I am somewhat managing with ice, medication, a new pillow arrangement, and total rest. Not being able to walk is not an easy thing, but I feel happy and relieved to have got to 31 weeks (today!). The crazy part of me is still lurking, whispering that the babies are really 30+6 today, but eh. I choose to feel happy that our babies, so tiny months and months ago, still measured a day older than they were! It’s like I used Miracle Grow – and it feels miraculous they were growing, despite the geysers of vomit…
Cool new thing: hiccups.
Saturday evening TMD went to IKEA, and while she was gone I had this really rhythmic twitching from Mano. It occured to me he was hiccuping! The next day it happened again – the way it seems to work is that both Torre and Mano get hiccups within minutes of each other. Today, for instance, Torre had hiccups for a couple of minutes. As soon as hers stopped, his began. And vice versa.
I do this sort of retarded jiggling of my belly, the sort of comforting slight bouncing I would do to a baby once they were out of the tummy. Don’t know if that makes the hiccups better for them, or if in fact they are then in the hell of having hiccups in an earthquake. I’ll have to ask them sometime.
My bump is still very, very low. One bout of Mano’s hiccups yesterday I felt only in my anus. (‘Anus’ seems dirtier than ‘ass’, doesn’t it?) Torre also not in my ribs anymore. Feels like she has moved back around to the right side and down a bit. She may even be head down, but let’s wait and see.
With both babies being much lower, the pressure on my pelvis is GOOD TIMES. Have had constant pubis pain today, but I can confidently say I would rather have that than scary pain I didn’t understand!!
And in other news, mail cheers me up. It’s like when I was at camp – getting a letter or anything in the post was like someone shipping me gold. Last week an old friend of TMD’s sent along an audio book and S Drawl sent along some pdf books. Yesterday my aunt sent me tiny packets of iced tea, which is a MIRACLE as it does not exist here. This morning – oh, this glorious morning – I got two boxes of donuts from Cookie, as well as a Kipling bag from when she was in high school! I am into Kipling. ANYWAY.
I had a good old time balancing on the crutches this morning, scooping crushed donut pieces into my mouth and eye flirting with the bag.
Also got three sports bras from Mom this morning – more miracles as they fit without feeling like I am in a vice. Thank God for Country A, where the people are so much more unhealthy and they make bras in big sizes!!! Mom also sent a shitload of gorgeous receiving blankets, which are so yummy and delicious I can barely take it.
So all these people have linked me to the outside world in the past week or so, and that is so much appreciated.
Also appreciated is that the massive watery discharge leakage (which happened during my three hour epic phone call with Cookie yesterday) has stopped. Now I change pantyliners out of luxury (is my life so diabolical that changing a tiny pad is ‘luxury’?) rather than the fact that they are unable to cope with the amount of liquid dripping out of my na-na.
29 weeks 4 days pregnant with twins, pics taken 13 June. This one is our garden, which actually looks quite tasteful and groomed, somehow. You should see the WRECK that is the flowerbeds. We have a four foot thistle growing because I am too pregnant to be a gardener. We are the sort of people you sue for ruining your fucking view!
At what will undoubtably be my last shopping trip, I tried to take some ‘art’ pictures with my bump being reflected. Didn’t quite work…
Multiple bumps of multiples. Ha. (My sense of humour is not improved by all this couch sitting, I fear.)
Hospital trip – 29 weeks 6 days – 30 weeks 1 day. Good times. I’m only sorry you can’t see our slurpee picture, because it would be pretty hard to cut out the faces but leave the tongues in.
Me, my pajamas, and the little yellow strips I can’t remember the name of….despite the fact that we always mock them.
30 weeks 5 days pregnant with our twins, pics taken 21 June:
The above is the little fleece neck pillow for use on airplanes; I’ve been using it to help alleviate the screaming pain in my ass. As I now am developing a bruise on my tailbone (yikes) will probably have to break down and order a proper ass cushion online.
Been feeling lately like my bump is ‘shrinking’ or perhaps isn’t very large. I like this front on view, though:
I think my bump has ‘dropped.’ It’s not as huge high up, and is VERY sticky outty right about my crotch. Mano is very low down, and I feel all his kicks in my ass. Yes, really. TMD just thinks that perhaps we are used to my bump, and that is why it no longer seems like some massive enclave. Or that the babies are smashed against my back seeing as they never get to be upright anymore.
TRANSDUCER STRIPS. That is what the yellow things are called. *phew* Transducer strips…
I can’t wait until I write a one sentence post: ‘They are here, and they are perfect.’
Jesus, am I hormonal. Just read the comments left on my last entry and they got me crying. It’s nice to have reassurance that I am not a bad person for loving my babies and perhaps despairing of pregnancy at the moment. Of course there is a paradox – I cannot fucking WAIT for August and this part of the journey to be over, but at the same time more than anything I want their arrival to not happen until August is happily ticking away.
I want them to go to term more than I want my own pain to end.
I am also sort of upset because our wills are taking ages to sort out. We finally got the copies to proof in the post, and there was a letter to TMD informing her that it was ‘legal and right’ to refer to the babies as hers, thanks to a change in law. While the lawyer no doubt felt proud of himself for learning about the new law regarding lesbian couples, it pisses me off because that law only applies to infants conceived in or after April 2009. So, yet again, we need to go back to him to sort things out. The only reason we are getting wills in the first place is so that should something happen to me, the guardianship passes to her. The lawyer didn’t bother putting that in my will because he doesn’t seem to understand that TMD has no legal rights over the children at first.
It’s nice that he sees no distinction between us and any other married couple, but also fucking impractical and uninformed.
Whew. I talked myself out of the comment-tears and into lawyer-anger.
I don’t know. Today is still a rough day. I’ve gotten up a couple of times, and the weight of the babies pressing down on my hips is something quite extraordinary. While I was having a good cry in the shower this morning, TMD pointed out that the weight hurting my SPD is a good thing – because I ‘am doing such a good job, and the babies are growing big and healthy.’ She is right.
I still have a semi-irrational fear about being home alone, but at least the fear is now confined to me – what if I had to piss the couch? What if I fell? This is more manageable than worrying that I’m suddenly going to shoot multiple babies out of my cootch onto the new carpeting.
I am so overwhelmed by the love and support shown to me/us via this blog, and I really can’t express what it means to have people there to cheer me on….and also tell me it’s okay to cry.
Fuck. Crying again. I just want to meet the babies. I just want to be able to walk without first worrying about how I shift positions on the couch, get up without my hips giving out, moving without the pelvic pain being something bordering intolerable. I think part of this is a disappointment that I am not prancing through a field of marigolds, wearing a floaty dress over my bump (I do love my bump) and smiling into the sun. I so wanted to love pregnancy. I have wanted to be pregnant for about seven years.
I dropped out of my PhD in 2003/2004 because we didn’t want to wait any more for children. For one reason or another, we did, and now they are here and growing. But I feel like I am failing at being pregnant. I know the important thing is staying pregnant, the babies being healthy and growing, etc. But I feel like the other side of pregnancy – the secret smiles and patting of my bump, the joy of feeling myself bloom, the freedom to be outdoors and outside with the babies in the bump – all of that is so rare.
I enjoy a two minute car trip to the fucking post office so much it makes me cry to think I once was able to actually leave the house without it being a big, special treat. I am missing out on all the things other pregnant women – particularly twin mums – complain about. Strangers coming up to touch your tummy without permission. Chatty bitches on trains telling you allllll about their pregnancies, which you really couldn’t care less about. Baby showers.
Part of this is also impatience because I just want to meet the babies now, but I am afraid of jinxing things if I say that outloud.
Eight more weeks, eight more weeks.
I remember reading this blog when she only had seven weeks to go, and how quickly it seemed to fly by – at least from my perspective of blog reader! I know eight weeks is nothing, but it sure feels like an impossible amount of time sometimes. I’ve been told by the midwives and doctors that the pain is only going to continue to increase, and sometimes I wonder how that is possible. I suppose the pain is bearable, but it’s the narrowing of my life that is not. Even within the four walls of my own home, everything requires such an immense effort and it’s….tiring?
I also have not pooped since a true ass bomb explosion on Wednesday after returning from the hospital. I have never not pooped for this long in my life. The thing is, even if I felt like I had to, I have to negotiate how to get to the bathroom, try to breathe through the pain of sitting on the toilet and hanging around, etc etc.
Sorry if this is just sounding like a giant pity party. I know some fantastic people are still trying to get pregnant and being so brave and strong, and here I am whining because I am lucky enough to have two babies tucked safely inside me.
I just feel like…I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t feel strong or brave enough to be more positive, I’m sorry I feel like I can’t bear another eight weeks, I’m sorry for feeling so overwhelmed by everything, I’m sorry for the amount of work TMD is doing to take care of me, the babies, the house, our life. All I do is lie around and cry, or sleep, or moan.
I am constantly asking her for help. Can you please get me the ice pack? Can you hand me that box of tissues? Would you fucking just DIRECT the showerhead into my ass to rinse it – don’t you realise you are hitting my THIGH with the water?
I feel guilty.
Jesus. Now I’m sobbing. Great.
So. Sunday evening had some very, very slight periody type feelings very low down in front. (Also have bad period style cramps in lower back for a couple of weeks now.) Monday morning the cramps were still there, and we weren’t sure if TMD should go into work or what. I finally told her to just go and I would be in touch if they didn’t go away or got worse. She called a few times to check in with me, and by the early afternoon I said I was going to call the hospital. Phoned labour & delivery – told them about cramps, etc, but then they asked follow up questions, and I think it was the ‘discharge’ question that triggered red flags for them.
On Sunday I was pulling my underwear down, and felt that the top left half of my pantyliner was completely soaked through. The underwear on that side was also saturated. I gave it a good sniff (there is no boundary about smelling underwear – or forcing your partner to – when you are pregnant. Just so you know.) and it didn’t smell like pee. But I had a similar thing happen at 19 weeks and nothing else happened.
I have found, believe it or not, that the more pregnant I have gotten, the more calm I have been about niggles and things. So I put on new knickers/pantyliner (or rather TMD did, because if you think I can put on my own panties you are WRONG) and sat around for about an hour. Lots more sniffing and touching of the pad, and no more leaking. So I didn’t really think twice about this. The hospital had another view though and said I needed to come in to see if my waters were leaking or had broken.
Went in, got monitored (for babies’ heartbeats, movements, and my contractions), and then needed a pelvic exam to check if it was my waters. Let me say that pre-pregnancy, putting a speculum in me was nothing. Well, this exam was a little more uncomfortable. Sore. Mildly painful. With my eyes squeezed shut and lots of hissing, indrawn breaths, I managed to get through it. I think it is a measure of how much it hurt that I wasn’t even slightly amused that they spread me open with the speculum and then used a GIANT flashlight to peer inside. The doctor also made me cough, and she pulled The Pain Giver out of me and showed me all the white discharge she had collected. She said my waters had not broken (I could have fucking told you that, and I don’t have a medical degree).
I asked if my cervix was still tight and she said it was. I also asked if an exam like this could aggravate my cervix and initiate preterm labour. She said it couldn’t. Doctor also did a quick scan to see what positions the babies were lying in – Mano still breech, left side lower down. Torre still transverse, but her head now on the right side.
Went in to the toilet for a pee, and then couldn’t remember if I was in delivery room 3 or 4 (two rooms to one toilet). Then I heard god awful screaming from room 3. Went back into the room and told TMD that from that woman’s screams alone, I was convinced epidurals were probably awesome. We sat around a few more minutes for them to write up my charts, listened to some more bloodcurdling screams (and then a gratifying sound: a baby crying), and went home.
I got into the bath, noted that my vagina felt like it was falling out of me, didn’t think anything else of it. A few hours later, went for a pee. It was dark, but I clearly saw Something Bad on the toilet paper. Called for TMD to turn on light – yes, light pink streaks on paper. Wiped again and this time there was a bright red splotch on the paper – a final wipe, more pink. Called the hospital, was told to bring an overnight bag and come in.
My emotions went completely dead and numb. I was shaking all over really badly, but only noticed my legs because TMD was worried I was going to fall over. She made me sit down while she made sure I had stuff to take into hospital. (Thankfully had already begun packing my hospital bag, so most stuff was sorted.) Couldn’t stop shaking, and we went into hospital.
A very nice midwife asked how much blood there was, etc. A doctor came in very quickly and said she needed to visualise my cervix to see if blood was coming from there. I told her the earlier exam had hurt and I was very nervous. She was super and talked me through relaxing, really took her time, I focused on breathing, etc. Managed to let her get the speculum in, though I was making stuck pig noises. When she moved it slightly to get the torch, I yelled and involuntarily kicked out. She and the midwife both leapt away from the bed!
The doctor pulled the speculum out and asked if she could have a feel with her fingers. I agreed. (Why, god, why? NEVER AGREE.) This was semi-okay, but eventually the pain won out and she stopped the exam again. Her hand had quite a lot of blood on it. Also couldn’t get a lower vaginal swab as the pussymonster was not happy. Had some blood drawn for various reasons, including a full blood count, blood type and rhesus factor in case I needed a transfusion if I had a further bleed (!), etc.
The midwife was lovely and said that I should have been warned that pelvic exams cause spotting in most pregnant women – and that while I would have still had to come in to be checked, at least I wouldn’t have had to worry. In fact, every midwife I saw said this should have been explained to me. So, apparently the first doctor – as well as mutilating vaginas as a hobby – also has not made a habit of passing on routine information. The second doctor was very reassuring and said that the bleed was minute. She also said that while her hand had looked bloody, it really was a very small amount of blood. She said she was going to play it safe and admit me, as hospital policy said I needed to stay in for 24 hours. She said she might have let me go home had she been able to definitively assess the cervix, but obviously that didn’t happen.
The midwife then asked if I had already had steroid shots for the babies. I hadn’t. You see, babies born before 34 weeks have ‘sticky lungs’ that make it difficult for them to inflate properly after birth. Two steroid injections (takes 24 hours to absorb) are used to help mature and develop the lungs in case they come early. These steroids last for six weeks, so by the time the medication had worn off, the babies would have mature lungs anyway.
It was a bit scary to think that they thought I needed these shots, but eh. Had a shot deep in my hip (two and a half inch needle! Happy to say my IVF training meant I didn’t even fucking blink.) Went to the toilet – no more screams from neighboring room this time, but clearly audible murder screams from end of hallway – and pantyliner was COVERED in brown blood. Also pink streaking when wiped. Midwife said the doctor had probably knocked loose blood from earlier.
Admitted to ward about 12:30 am – got a private room as I am an official cripple due to SPD!! It was right across from the toilets, so that was good. Very nice as far as hospital rooms go. TMD helped me change and get settled in, then she left for the evening. I didn’t sleep the whole night. Went pee at 3 am, teeny tiny pink spot on toilet paper, minute spot on pantyliner. Pee at seven, no more blood anywhere. Midwife on duty laughed and said I didn’t need to scrutinise paper, as she said the sort of blood to worry about is that which is immediately obvious.
Babies monitored again. Happy to say my blood pressure was also right back down to what it was when I booked. Suspect this is because every time my bp has been checked it’s either when I am rushed to hospital and worried, or when I have been travelling to GP and in pain. So I think my bp is probably incredibly healthy the rest of the time!! Babies still okay. Doctor did rounds and said I needed another night. TMD was there from 8-1 and 3-8:30, with the bit in the middle when she nipped out to bring me back pizza.
In the afternoon ended up being monitored again as I had had a contraction. It was boiling hot in the fucking room, and I had my skirt pulled up to my crotch (don’t worry, pictures are coming!), and my tank top pulled up right under my boobs. My bump felt funny and I looked at it – it completely fucking changed shape. Like the sides pulled in, and it grew an inch or two taller. The whole thing was like concrete. So….monitoring. Had one minor contraction while it was on, but nothing of note or worth worrying about. Both babies were still happy.
Spent most of the day staring at the wall, so tired and hot it was unbelieveable. The midwife came into the the lower vadge swab late in the afternoon, after reassuring me that it was super thin and taken just inside the vaginal entrance so should cause no pain. It lasted about half a second and I was in agonies! She was very surprised and apologetic. I am happy she witnessed me getting the intramuscular steroid injection in my thigh – she kept saying it was going to be very painful, horrible, etc – and again, no blinking. So clearly I CAN tolerate pain, and my vagina is just sore sore sore. She said, ‘It shouldn’t be so sore.’ I said, ‘Your colleagues broke it.’
Later in the afternoon I apparently looked like hell and she came in to check on me. I started crying about how fucking tired I was. Then – was I DRUNK? – I started thanking her profusely for being the best midwife we had had. She really was; she took the time to explain everything she was doing, why she was doing it, and what the results meant. This is so valuable and appreciated.
By Tuesday evening I felt pretty confident I would be allowed home on Wednesday, as there had been no further bleeding. More listening in to babies, reminding me to tell them if I contracted, etc. Was also proscribed codeine for SPD pain, but midwife said I should avoid if possible as it can constipate – and full rectums can make SPD worse and childbirth more difficult.
At this point, she said the cramping could be very, very early signs of labour, SPD, or just the normal preparations of the body for childbirth. She said she didn’t see any reason why I wouldn’t go till 34 weeks. The doctor said full term was very unlikely for twins, and most women delivered at 37/38 weeks. He said if I went to 36/37 weeks that would be brilliant, with 34 as a minimum.
Happy to say I managed a few hours broken sleep on Tuesday night – felt like a million bucks as a result. My SPD pain was rapidly getting worse thanks to the hospital bed, and am now on regular meds, need a wheelchair for anything more than a few steps, and virtually cannot walk at all even with my crutches. Don’t see any choice BUT to use them to get to kitchen/bathroom as a girl has to pee and eat!! Bad pain though.
Wednesday morning more monitoring – of course. Was told that mild period pains were fine and I didn’t need to call in, but I should not allow them to get ‘severe’. So essentially I called the hospital for nothing, and ended up with four painful vagina invasions, SPD declining, spotting, etc. NICE. Was reassured I had done the right thing by calling, as twin labours can come on early and be quite quick. I’m also pleased I got the steroids, and now just focused on staying still, rested, and hydrated for 8 more weeks!!
The babies are interesting. Torre still very, very high – right in my ribs now. So the rib pain back with a vengeance. Also breathing is becoming a treat. Imagine sitting where you are now, but with a bookshelf inside your stomach. Now imagine that bookshelf being pushed higher and higher, until it is directly at the bottom of your boobies and still pushing upwards. All of this is ‘normal’ twin pain, though, so I’m okay with that. Doctor said I would be having increasing pain, and that it was normal with twins to now have cramping, contractions, etc for the rest of the pregnancy. He also repeated the friendly thing every medical professional I have seen says – twin pregnancies hurt and I will feel pain no woman who has only had one will feel. Gee, thanks.
I think Mano may have shifted positions last night, as I felt the sort of slow motion intense movements I felt when Torre swapped over. Part of me was terrified he was going head down, as the pelvic exams have actually really scared me – if I can’t handle that, how can I push two babies out my snatch? Seriously. On the upside, I’m now feeling very positive about the whole recommended epidural for twin mummies thing!
I think that’s virtually everything. Got home yesterday, took a very warm bath and passed out in it, screamed as I hobbled to the couch, passed out again. Slept very good last night – think I got a solid four hours. Happy and relieved to be home. Having some mild cramping and tightenings today, but compared to those vaginal exams nothing is bad.
I think my tiny oasis of calm pregnancy is finished now. Once I hit 24 weeks, it was a relief. Once I hit 28 weeks, I edged into the territory where twins can come and obviously preterm labour is still my biggest worry. STAY INSIDE, BABIES. IT IS NICE IN THERE.
Love to you all.