It’s twins! I was 49 and had been going through fertility treatments, i.e. shots in the posterior, for weeks. Somehow, I hadn’t allowed myself to think any of it was really going to work. It was just like any other “procedure” I’d had to endure in the doctor’s or dentist’s office – kind of painful, but good for you, so deep breath and on you go. Then came the phone call. The blood test showed a pregnancy, and the numbers indicated twins. A few weeks later, the ultrasound showed two tiny hearts beating away. It was the most amazing thing I ever saw.
I had a dream. In it were two children by my legs, their backs turned so I couldn’t really see their faces. One was definitely blond and the other brunette with a red bow in her hair. Girls! How exciting! I ordered pink marble for the jack-and-jill bath between their bedrooms. I ate right, and walked two miles every morning. The worst thing happening was that my feet would swell – a lot – every day.
We had another ultrasound, this time they could tell us the genders if we wanted. Of course we wanted to know! Swipe, swipe, swipe baby “A” is a boy. What! A boy? I held my breath for the next swipe, swipe, swipe. Baby “B” is a girl. Holy shmoly, jackpot. I was so sure I was having girls, but there I was, with one of each and over the moon.
Everything was going swimmingly until week twenty-six. Another ultrasound showed my cervix was shortening. My OB checked me into the hospital for observation. It was a hard time. A doctor from the NICU came in to tell me what would happen if the babies were born now. Unfortunately, hubby was out of the room. I was crying. As it turned out, I was having contractions every four minutes or so, but they weren’t productive. After three days of observation, they sent me home and told me to take it easy.
I saw my OB’s partner a few days later. He’d had a twins practice for 10 years before moving here, and said that he couldn’t “prescribe” bed rest, but had seen women in my condition go on strict bed rest and carry their pregnancies to term! He said that home bed rest is a little different from hospital bed rest. At home, you get up and go to the bathroom, and maybe take a shower, or get a glass of water, so the concern with blood clots was much reduced.
I lay on the couch or on the bed for nine weeks. I looked forward to each day passing, thinking of it as a victory for my babes’ development. The only time I left the house was to go to doctor’s appointments. Even then, I laid in the backseat going to and from. I talked to the babes constantly, telling them all the benefits of staying inside. Truth to tell, the anxiety was crushing. I so wanted the best for my babes – happy, healthy infancies, not days or weeks in a plastic basinet in the hospital. It kept me motivated.
Thirty-four weeks gestation is a big milestone. When we passed that mark, I relaxed a little. I allowed myself to go to a baby shower. God, it was fun to see my friends and family, and it was fun to celebrate our little bundles of joy. Everyone was so kind, and generous. At thirty-five weeks and two days, we had a big doctor appointment day, fetal heart monitor, followed by measurement ultrasound and finally, OB visit. All was looking good, so we agreed to induce at thirty seven weeks. And then I stood up. I looked at the doctor and said, “something is happening” as I could feel warm, wet soaking my jeans. The babes were born the next morning, small but healthy, and I became the luckiest girl in the world.