Posts Tagged ‘bedrest’

Peep shows, and inadvertant bump shots of me, 31 weeks pregnant with twins.

June 23, 2009

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.)

26 weeks pregnant with twins…and all that goes with that. (Zits all over my forehead. NICE.)

May 19, 2009

Thank you all for the lovely comments on my SuperBump ™. I have a few more pics that were taken two days ago to upload – my bump appears to have grown a few inches overnight, and I don’t think it’s just me. It’s funny – about four/five days ago I was thinking that I had got used to the extra weight, that I sometimes forget I am pregnant, etc.


The night we took these pictures, I saw myself in the Belly Bra and my jaw was almost dislocated from the force of my mouth opening so wide. I am hesitant to say I have a big bump, because everytime I have thought that in the past I have learned a few weeks later that I had NO IDEA what ‘big’ was. No doubt this is a lesson I will continue to have.

I was going through my phone and deleting old text messages yesterday (and finding it an entertaining, worthwhile use of my time – you SEE what all these weeks at home have turned me into?!?) and found some texts I had sent waaaaaaaaaaay back when I was on crutches from the accident. Things like, ‘I’m on crutches and have a huge stomach and no one will offer me a seat. Stupid bastards!’ Etc. I look back now and want to shake myself. Huge bump? Make me fucking laugh, yo.

I am pregnant with twins and I am a superhero! Hardcore. Hardy.


At any rate, I am hiding in my bedroom and will be for the rest of the week. At any moment a builder/painter guy is going to show up. We’re having the lounge, hall, and kitchen repainted – I will be hiding not just because that is what I would do if any workmen were in the house, not just because this particular guy is THE chattiest person I have ever met and when I am trapped in conversation with him I can only dream of escape, but because of the paint fumes.

We’ll see how my body likes sitting upright in the glider, as Marmite is dominating the bed at the moment.

And that’s the other thing. Yesterday I was lying on the couch, and I almost couldn’t get up. If I had been more sprightly, I would have said that I was flopping around like a fish out of water. Rather, I sort of lay there, rolling from side to side, hands moving about independent of my brain’s control, trying to find something to grab onto and pull me up. That was an interesting experience. It is now VERY difficult to get myself up off the couch.

I have also had a few nights of dodgy sleep  – escalating to terrible sleep, actually. Last night I found a new solution and it seemed to work, so here’s hoping. During my rearranging of pillows (or, rather, ordering TMD to Make The Bed Perfect Or Else) I confessed to her that I’m actually quite worried what the rest of pregnancy will be like. I mean, many people are my size right before they give birth. So when women who are heavily pregnant (38+ weeks?) complain about just wanting to get it over with and have the baby? Yes, my size or smaller.

I am 26 weeks pregnant today. Yikes, yowza, etc.

We have talked about the fact that once I reach about 36 weeks I will probably need TMD’s mum to come stay with me when TMD is at work. Simply because I don’t know if I’ll be able to move (SPD be damned, I’m talking merely about how huge I’ll be!!!), and I don’t know if I would be crazy or calm if my waters broke.

I am also thinking about the fact that I DO want the blog world to know when things are moving or shaking, and how I will manage to have that sorted out. Poor Tatiana might get an email asking if she wants to guest blog/update for me (hint, hint), though I still don’t know how she would know things were moving along. Plus, that pesky time difference is a WHORE.

Hmmm. Corporate T?

Anyway. Other news is Big Baby Shopping we did this weekend. Won’t write all about it, but will say we went into the town centre especially to look at a particular twin pushchair (‘travel system’ for the uninitiated) – and while we were in the store, a really nice couple with 8 month old twins came in….using that exact pushchair. They let us push their baby girls around (I also told the husband I wanted to kidnap them as they were so cute. How am I allowed in public??) so we could see what the pushchair was like with two babies in it.

While we were doing that, ANOTHER twin mom came in. This is a terrible thing to say,  but her two year old girls looked like they were from Village of the Damned. Very pale skin, see through blonde hair – I was just waiting for their eyes to light up red. We didn’t talk to that mom, possibly because her kids freaked us both out.

Please, let our kids be gorgeously cute, universe!!!

I love my bump muchly, even though I occasionally whack it with the fridge door when I open it (easy to do, actually). If the babies are as cute as the bump, we can all be hopeful. Other cute thing – they respond to TMD’s voice, particularly Mano. I do think he’s in a better position to be kicking, and he does move around a lot. Torre still quieter on the movement front, though her kicks are POWERHOUSES and occasionally make me scream in surprise.

Love to you all!

I am alone all. the. time.

April 24, 2009

I’m feeling low this morning, and it’s still in the eight o’clock hour. Aussie was going to come and up turns out she can’t – for totally valid reasons – but I am so fucking gloomy. It’s all gorgeous outside and I’m lying here in my robe all teary.

TMD left before 8 o’clock this morning, and she won’t be home till about 8:30 pm tonight. That somehow feels really, really long.


You know all those past experiments when the baby monkeys weren’t given mummy love in real or stuffed toy form? That’s how I feel. So fucking lonely.

I have stuff I can do to help TMD with her work, and also ten phone interviews I’m supposed to be arranging. I don’t feel like calling any of the candidates because in the mood I’m in, I might start sobbing at any second.

Do you pity me?

If I have to leave the house on my own, I will need Crocs because shoes and socks are beyond me at this point.

April 16, 2009

Just booked our one-day multiples antenatal class. For some reason I was having a minor freak out about booking it – so picked up the phone and did it that way. Yesterday I rang these people to join their Exclusive World of Multiple Babies and they were lovely, and they were lovely again today.

Yesterday when I registered I was really impressed by how gender neutral the woman was. She didn’t ask for my husband’s name, she asked for my partner’s name. Now, I know over here ‘partner’ is a widely applied term – but so handy that it doesn’t imply a sexuality along with it. Today I was asked for my husband or partner’s name; I think these people have undergone some training or something because as soon as she said ‘husband’ she kind of choked up and quickly replaced it with ‘partner.’ Nice.

The weird thing?

She referred to TMD as my ‘birth partner’, but she MEANT ‘wife.’ As in, ‘Is this your birth partner’s first child/children as well?’ and ‘Are you the one carrying the pregnancy?’ She also groovily said (not in a nosy way – it was a question I had to answer for the antenatal referral), ‘I assume you used fertility treatments then?’

Anyway. Class booked. Next step is to book into the local hospital’s free class. No doubt it will be …uh….well, you know, I’ll shut my mouth and hope for the best. I don’t think or know if we will sign up for this other series of antenatal classes (private classes through a national charity – everyone in the world goes to them) as the hospital stuff might cover it anyway. I find it all odd as while I would certainly prefer a vaginal delivery, I just don’t know how things will turn out on the day – it’s like this for multiples. I won’t know for a couple of months yet. Maybe one of you can come over and just teach me how to breathe or something.

Other thing is that I heard back from the local multiples club – they have a meeting tomorrow. While no one believes I am a social hermit because I am so fabulously sparkly with people, I totally hate going along to stuff like this without a friend in tow. I was warned by the email lady that tomorrow might be a bit ‘manic’ as it is school holidays so lots of older twins will be there. Yikes.

Apparently there are a few new twins moms there, though, so it would be quite good to get to know people in the area. I was assured that people ‘forge lifetime friendships’ – normally a churchy cult statement like that would put me off, but actually, I wouldn’t mind a few local lifetime friends. But the meeting’s in a church. Gross.

I am really cooking with this whole babies thing. I am also not moping around or hating bedrest as much this week. In fact, I’m starting to enjoy it. I’m now in a dodgy area where I have outlasted my doctor’s sick note and have not extended it – not even sure where it is. Work has not contacted me and I haven’t contacted them, aside from some emails about my scan and a phone call from Green. I had a tearful half hour earlier this week about missing work, but this is what it is.

I’d rather be successfully cooking babies than struggling to make it through the days at work.

I still have some pretty big stuff to sort out – and the first thing(s) are getting a solicitor so we can make a will, as well as taking legal advice about securing TMD’s parental rights. The law here is changing and if we had conceived a few months later we could have both been on the birth certificate. As it stands, we have to work really hard to make sure our family and babies are safe.

I also need to find a dentist. Yuck. I don’t trust dentists here…but then again I’ve never gone.

….Really grey and gloomy outside today. Hardcore mist coming down into our jungle of a back garden. Regardless, I have done more stuff in the past two days than I have in the past two weeks. I also called the clinic yesterday and found out we will receive our donor’s pen sketch when the babies are born. I also asked about the woman I donated eggs to – waiting to hear back about that.

In the meantime, I may go make myself an ice cream cookie sandwich. They don’t have them in this country (horror, shock, disgust!), but I find they are actually a ‘recipe’ that is within the parameters of ‘things I can cook.’

Love to you all.

(Pictures coming later, assuming I can hook up our new memory card/camera to the laptop with no struggles.)

Love makes the world go round.

April 15, 2009

I’m becoming some sort of lesbian families connection point. A hub, if you will. Okay, okay – that’s a bit optimistic, but still. A friend of a friend has gotten in touch and we are emailing back and forth. She and her partner are thinking about trying to conceive…and they live right by where TMD works.

Hopefully we will also yank M & N into some bizarre lesbian hoedown when they become pregnant. So that’s two lezzie fams.

I also texted some woman who apparently lives around the corner today, essentially trying to convey a sense of coolness while basically asking, ‘Will you be our friend?’ I hope she replies. I am finding a cozy warm spot for random lesbians who are now contacting me with all sorts of conception questions, so perhaps that goodwill will also extend the other direction?

As I now have all this time off work, I am finding some crazy motivation to start up some Lesbian Mummies Club in my area. Stay posted for that.

In other news, I’ve also emailed a non-lesbian (well, I suppose she could be gay, actually) from my local twins club. I think I’m going to go along to a meeting so I can meet other twin mummies. Also going to join the national association for people with multiples today, as soon as I haul my lazy ass off the couch and get my debit card.

Please understand, it’s not like I am anti-straight moms. No, not at all. But lesbian families face a whole host of issues foreign to your average heterosexual couple. But I love you straighties, rest assured.

My vagina wants me to lay down again. *pity party*

April 9, 2009

Sitting up on the couch AND leaning back against it – two no-nos in the world of Twin Pregnancy. (Can you hear the horns announcing…Twin Pregnancy?) But you know, I don’t give a good fuck at this moment in time. Avert your eyes if you don’t want to see whining and self-pity.

But…I’m boooooooooooooored. Being at home is all fun and games assuming you are able and willing to move around. A life lived lying on your side? Totally fucked up, my friends. And I’ve got some kickin’ rib tenderness on my left side, which is made about a zillion times more uncomfy when I am lying down. So I thought, be a daredevil. Go on. Sit up, lean back, prop that laptop on your knees and experience typing from a normal position again.

It’s not quite as risque as buying a motorcycle and taking off for unknown territories, but it gave me a brief thrill for about ten minutes. Or five.

Fact is, I am clockwatching. I am waiting and waiting and waiting for TMD to get home. I’m lonely, bored, thirsty, uncomfortable, worried, etc. I am also radiantly happy and keep touching my bump. But honestly, the babies are okay company – but not quite the same as having someone with you who is living outside of your stomach. I need a hug!

I keep wondering how in god’s name I can possibly stay at home for another 18 weeks (if I deliver at 38 weeks, which is the plan) because HOLY FUCK THIS IS BORING. The upside is that all this rest means I am likely to head off bad complications from the SPD, preterm labour, etc. It also means I’m less likely to be forced onto actual never-leave-the-bed-rest. I know my job is to be a good twincubator and cook up some healthy, fat babies – but god.

I think I need something or someone to entertain me. Maybe a couch in the middle of some woods somewhere, with ambient bird sounds and leafy shadows/light dappling my body. Maybe the ability to sit up for more than 20 minutes without causing myself grievous pains and aches – and therefore being able to do some serious writing. Maybe the motivation to kickstart meditating (I’ve just bought Kabat-Zinn’s Full Catastrophe Living so maybe that will help?) and get into some sort of routine.

The thing is, I actually have a lot to do. Find a guy to make us a will. Download the legal documents to give TMD parental responsibility. Research dual citizenship stuff for the babies. Call the clinic and ask when we get the donor’s pen sketch. Ask them if the lady I donated eggs to got pregnant. Make a list of shit I need from work (my wind up sushi misses me, I am sure of it). Perhaps start filling in the paperwork to become a Superstar Therapist. Make a list of things for babies/my hospital bag. Make a list of stuff we need for the house. Call this strange local lesbian family to see if we can make friends, even though calling someone I don’t know makes me nervous.

But, crazy me, I feel like I can’t do any of that until my new orange notebook comes in the mail and I can make all sorts of crazy detailed lists in the book. Just for the satisfaction of crossing them out – but also because I feel better when I get things out of my head and onto paper. Or this blog, I guess.

Whine, whine, whine.

I spend my days flitting between tv channels. I turn my head sideways and read pregnancy forums, update twitter, mindlessly refresh my Facebook homepage, and check my email. Blog. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I am happy to be at home if it is the best thing for the babies and my body, but jesus why does it have to be so endless? Am I really capable of being home and essentially immobile for NINETEEN total weeks? Is my emotional health strong enough?

I need comfort.

Not head down, but oh well.

April 2, 2009

Um, I’m lying on my side (because what ELSE is there to do in the world?) with my knees pulled up to my bump. And I swear to god Mano is kicking hard enough that I am feeling it on my thigh.


19 weeks 2 days pregnant.

April 2, 2009

I just get so worried about these babies. Is the paracetemol I took after The Accident going to make them have two heads each? Did the knee ultrasound make them glow-in-the-dark? Does the maternity belt smush them? CurlyGirl laughs and tells me this is just the beginning of a lifetime of worry.

We dopplered (I create verbs in my spare time) them this morning.

Last night was rotten for both of us. I woke up twice screaming, in the sort of hip pain that I never imagined was possible. It lingered even after I got out of bed. I was in tears, hobbling around, etc. Ended up on the couch, which may become my new home during the nights as well as the days. TMD woke me up this morning (as per request) so I could attempt to clean myself before Corporate T came over, and I just started crying because I was sooooo tired. I thought my hippy hippy quakes happened early on and one right after the other, but apparently the second was around 1:45 am. So lots of sleeping-waking-sleeping-waking.

And you know what? I don’t care. Genuinely don’t care, as long as those babies keep growing and developing and getting nice and fat. And STAY IN PLACE. I will publically say I’d quite like to get to 38 weeks. I will not have these babies, however, in the next 13 weeks. That is unacceptable. I want a minimum of 36 weeks, and I’m putting it down here in black and white because I. Am. Determined.

Bedrest continues….

Countdown to due date: 145 days.


How many dashes can one entry hold?

April 1, 2009

I’ve come to the conclusion that my begging post a few weeks ago (you know, asking the universe to send me a netbook) was because I knew I’d be on ‘rest’ at some point. I’m in an incredibly awkward position right now which is possibly not the best for the babies or my back, so will keep this short. It’s a bit of a disappointment because I really want to be able to write….but sitting in chairs is a pain in the ass. Literally. (And the hips, the vagina, the…)

So: yesterday. It scared the baby jesus out of me. I know I have been wondering how in god’s name I would be able to manage working until I went on leave – but I wanted to be independently wealthy and choose to take time off, rather than be told I MUST. Right now. Or else.

The doctor said, ‘You’re working at 19 weeks? With TWINS?’ She didn’t seem too appalled at my job – after all, being a counsellor is hardly a high intensity workout (physically, at least), but was absolutely against me commuting into the city. This is all really handy because after an epic struggle, guess what arrived in the mail yesterday? My free upgrade to first class and a nice little button (translation = gross litte button, which I liked anyway) proclaiming I had a baby on board.

Green persuaded me to make the doctor’s appointment at the end of last week. She’s been hearing about my waking up in hip pain – which now has escalated to having little blocks of hours at a time where I can’t sleep because There Is No Good Way To Lay. I also was apparently making funny little pain faces when standing up or moving around at work. She said I was a stupid fuck, essentially, and that I should see the doctor. So I called and got an appointment (not with Dr. G, thank god, but with Dr. S – Green’s old doctor!) for yesterday.

Then two nights before the appointment, I was lying in bed when I felt a sudden stabbing sensation in my vagina going up through my womb. I had about five rhythmic pulses of this and it stopped; I went back to sleep. (I’m trying not to worry so much now. Ha.) On Monday I maybe had one vagina pain…maybe. Yesterday I was at work – and actually thinking about how it was already 1:30 and I hadn’t had a chance to lay down – putting my feet up and my body horizontal is a new part of my life. The next thing I know, I am getting monstrous pains. Not to be too gross or thoughtless, but it felt like I was being raped by a knife. Seriously.

Long intense pains running along the right side of my vagina.

So that became my worry. I told the doctor about the vagina stuff – and also that for the past two mornings, I had VERY thick mucus. Similar to the eggwhite discharge a woman has when ovulating. This is very different than the normal pregnancy discharge I’ve been getting. Crazy me thought it was my mucus plug and the pains were my cervix shortening or something. The doctor said, ‘If that was happening you would be having contractions, and we wouldn’t be able to sit here and have this conversation.’ She didn’t physically check my cervix, which was her only fault, but hey. We can’t all be perfect.

She diagnosed me with ’round ligament pain.’ This is a nice addition to my pubic dysfuntional pain giver thing I also possibly have. She was not too worried about my hips/back and said the focus right now is to rest, rest, rest. Apparently there are a couple of ligaments at the bottom of the uterus. They form a little diamond shape through which the cervix dangles down. These ligaments are responsible for holding everything up and in place. Because I am on a high natural dose of relaxin (a hormone your body releases when pregnant that happens to soften your ligaments), my ligaments are relaxing. Or relaxin’, if you will.

They are all stretching at an incredible rate, because my uterus is growing, growing, growing. Add the weight of two babies to that, and you start to get the picture.

The appointment was scary because she was really concerned I hadn’t felt the babies yesterday (I don’t really ever feel them?) and palpatated my tummy (first person to do this!), and then listened to heartbeats. Mano’s first heartrate was 100, which is freakishly low and that concerned us both. She went back to check Mano again and it had zipped back at up 153. Of course I made TMD check the hearts again last night. That doppler has been such an anxiety-saver and I am SO GLAD I bought it.

The doctor started talking about placental abruption and all sorts of other horrible things which lead to pregnancy loss. I almost shat myself. However, at the end I think she had satisfied herself – if not me – that this little problem had nothing to do with the babies, and it was just the fact that my body was having difficulty coping with this many babies. She said many ‘ladies’ can’t work during the duration of pregnancy, particularly with twins. (Somehow once you are pregnant you are a ‘lady’ and every other pregnant woman is as well. I don’t get this.)

We still have the 20 week scan next Tuesday. This scan will reassure us – hopefully – that both babies are doing very well. I don’t mind this semi-bedrest or pain at all as long as it does not mean the babies are compromised in any way. In actual fact, loads of rest is very helpful to twinnies in utero. But I won’t feel 100% calm till after the scan. My worst fear – as I’ve said – is premature labour so anything that staves that off is a good thing.

I’ve been signed off for two weeks initially. But I think this is it. When the two weeks are up I should be able to easily get an extension for the next seven (assuming I have that much sick leave left – will have to check this with Joy) and I think I’m going to ask for it. My body has been protesting the walking and sitting when I’m at work, and it’s time I listen to it.

Also: how the hell did I used to feel them so much and now I rarely ever do? I know Mano has an anterior placenta, and Torre sort of does too – fundal. I am aware that can cushion kicks. I am trying to choose not to worry about this as well, as no good comes from sitting here and being a bundle of nerves. I just want to write, write, write and take advantage of this time off work. But fuck, you know, sitting hurts my vagina. I don’t know how typing is supposed to happen. Right now I am supported behind by cushions, knees sort of up, laptop on my knees. This means I am leaning back which isn’t great for getting the babies head down or giving them a lot of room to perform in. I am going to have to figure out this typing position thing soon. Any suggestions welcome.

So. Thus endeth my novel of bedrest.

Oh – except for the postscript. Last night after I got home, I suddenly felt very wet (no nice way to say it), so I pulled down my pants to have a little looksie. My entire crotch region of my knickers was, well, soaked through. Like I’d pissed myself, except it wasn’t urine. Worry Monster kicked in that it was my waters breaking. Let me tell you, anxiety likes living in my brain.

Perhaps the other thing of note is boob-related. Remember how I had to buy bras that were a bit too big? They are now so tight that they literally leave indents on my breasts wherever there is a seam. My boobs are growing. And my nipples? Um. UM. Giant, and often white tipped. Truly suitable snow covered peaks for what is becoming a formidable mountain range.

Now that IS it. See you soon, no doubt, as I’m ‘resting’ all day, every day. I will up  my Twittering – my name is Existere on there, so feel free to follow. I am going to write about exciting things like my water intake, vagina discoveries, and daytime tv. Aren’t you SO tempted?


The update to end all updates?

March 31, 2009

I’m typing whilst lying on my side, laptop balanced on my right sideways leg. Not the easiest thing, so this will be short.

I went to the doctor’s today. It was an appointment made for the hip/back pain, but about two days ago I started having deep stabbing pains in my vagina. Apparently this is ’round ligament pain.’

I have been signed off work, effective immediately. I don’t think I will be going back. Five months of bedrest, people.

Five months.