Advice for parents of multiples

Twins: “Why Not Get Two Out At One Whack?”

I was only six weeks pregnant and I knew something was unusual. I had my first child two years prior to this and even though I wrote down every minute detail, my mind was certain. This one was definitely different. Like so many women in modern society, infertility was the mysterious white elephant in the room when it came to the question of motherhood. I took Clomid (a common infertility drug) and I was off and running. Blood test after blood test, I learned that the HcG (pregnancy hormone) levels were doubling by the day and was well over the levels of my first pregnancy. I became suspicious. My husband became excited. He so wanted twins. As he claimed “why not get two out at one whack?” Then there they were. My sonogram showed what I had suspected. Two jumping grains of rice. I wanted to name one Uncle Ben and the other Long Grain.

At each check point in my pregnancy I became riddled with anxiety until it was confirmed in some medical manner that I was still pregnant with twins. Fear of a miscarriage, one baby squishing the other or the lining of my uterus “absorbing” the baby as the baby books called it. Every rational, probable, irrational and highly unlikely outcome of my pregnancy plagued me the night before every pending check point.

Then 8 months into my pregnancy I hit the wall. My body was done. Stick a fork in my behind, because this turkey was ready to carve. I wanted to scream into my vagina, okay, guys you can get out now. Well, if I could even see that part of me at that point. I would have been happy just to see my swollen, sausage toes while standing. At this check point the doctor said that even though I had been experiencing contractions, my body had no other signs of labor. What was I to do now? The babies didn’t want to leave and my body had called it quits.

I couldn’t stand for too long. I couldn’t sit for too long. Laying down was murder on my back. Sleep was non existent and I couldn’t remember the last time I ate without my esophagus burning like I was the latest fire eating attraction at a circus. When I saw the sonogram at week 32, I gasped in horror. One baby was standing on the other one’s face and smooshing it into my cervix! There was absolutely no room left. I’m pretty sure my organs packed their bags and headed for the nearest exit. I was miserable. My reflection in the mirror was screaming at me to shed all the weight, water, acne, dark

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Tags: Infertility, Parents Of Multiples, Six Weeks