My Twin Pregnancy Recap

"I think I could be a surrogate for someone, a close friend...if they asked me..." I say to my husband as we're driving, twins in tow. "Do you remember what pregnancy was like??" he asked, hoping an immediate flashback to all the vomiting and back pain would wonk this crazy thought from my mind.

It didn't. (And no I am not planning on becoming a baby factory.)

What it did do, however, is send me into a la-la-land type of daze remembering all the details, good and bad mind you, of my twin pregnancy.

Each pregnancy is unique and mine was going to be no different. I started showing a baby bump by 9 weeks...which is apparently early. By the time of our 12 week ultrasound I was already in maternity pants. I remember asking our midwife if I was carrying multiples, not really believing it could be true, as she felt around my stomach with the doppler. After hearing one fast little heartbeat we were so overjoyed that we forgot that first fleeting thought...for now.

18 weeks

Pregnancy made me ridiculously sick. Whoever dubbed the term "morning-sickness" has apparently never experienced it because at no time did my sickness stick to this daily schedule. I was lucky if I could keep any food down during the first 16 weeks of my pregnancy. This constant flow of vomit ended me in the emergency room once followed shortly by a prompt care visit, both times eagerly accepting a healthy dose of fluids to get me back on my feet.

In the middle of this first trimester we found out we actually were having twins. We were (shocked, stupefied, scared out of our jammies and) thrilled! It all made sense now! The reason for all the puking, hair loss, and the fact that I had to switch to maternity pants after just a few weeks was now clear. Just a few weeks after we found out that our baby was actually bab-IES was when we found out that we would be welcoming into this world two little Jesse's. My husband and I always wanted our first to be a boy but we would have never guessed we would be blessed with two little boys at once! This sweet time was matched by the fact that my morning sickness started to subside and I was no longer tasting my handfuls of Cheerios for the second time.

The second trimester brought on it's own challenge: how to ingest as many calories as possible. During puk-a-polooza I managed to lose 10 lbs which is not desirable for any pregnancy, especially one with multiples. Jesse and I made the necessary changes to our shopping habits, much to his elation, and stocked up on bacon, eggs, protein powder and whole milk. Veggies would become a thing of the past (don't try this at home) as they would fill me for a nanosecond before I was in dire need of "real" food again. During my twin pregnancy I gained a total of 60+ lbs. reaching 192 lbs. by the week of my delivery. I am pretty sure this was unnecessary but my body did what it needed to tack on as many fat cells for those boys to cling onto.

Using non-toxic, prego-safe paint on our hallway

My third trimester was actually pretty boring. I was massive by then so at 31 weeks I had to stop working (several weeks past what Dr. Barbara Luke would recommend according to her book When You're Expecting Twins, Triplets, or Quads). We had just moved into our new house so I spent my days as a stay-at-home-wife unpacking, cleaning, getting the boys' room ready, eating everything in sight and shamelessly watching Netflix from the comforts of my recliner.

31 weeks

When I was between 34-35 weeks along we had a labor scare that landed us an overnight stay at hotel de Methodist Hospital. I was big and tired and was so ready to not be pregnant but I knew my job was to keep these boys in as long as possible and I was determined to make it to 37 weeks! We had a doctor from the NICU come in and speak with us about the realities of giving birth to twins at this stage. While the boys would be fine they would need to be in the NICU with oxygen and feeding tubes and because of their size I would need a c-section. All I could do was cry as Jesse prayed I wouldn't progress any further. Thankfully after some minor bleeding, a few contractions, and small amount of dilating I was sent home with strict orders to take it easy for the duration of my pregnancy.

Soon after I was released and back to bumming it around the house my body started itching like crazy. I thought this was weird and certainly uncomfortable but nothing more. I mentioned this at my next NST appointment and I was immediately told to strip down to show the midwife my bumps and was sent to the lab for some blood work. There were two options: this was either a rare pregnancy rash that only goes away after birth, or a sign of liver/gallbladder failure because of pregnancy. Neither sounded super great but I prayed for the first one while they took some blood samples to be analyzed. This was like adding insult to injury at the tail end of my pregnancy. If I wasn't already excited to be done being pregnant I was now! Thankfully my blood test results showed nothing alarming and I was sent home with topical ointments that, of course, offered no relief.

Now because our twins are identical and they were in the same placenta we were considered even more high risk than twins would typically be. There was a risk of twin-to-twin transfusion with our boys, which is a condition causing the twins to share blood. This results in one twin having too much and the other having too little leading to complications and sometimes death. Because of this risk we were matched with a Maternal Fetal Medicine doctor who we saw every other week for ultrasounds and growth scans. This was the hardest part of the pregnancy, knowing that at any time our boys could develop this serious condition and we could lose them. I cannot express how grateful I am to the Lord that this is something we never had to face head on.

From the start of this pregnancy I was planning on having a natural water birth, which is why we chose a midwife instead of a traditional OB. With twins a water birth was out of the question because of the inability to monitor everyone wirelessly but I still held onto the hope that I would need the least amount of intervention possible. Up until the end we were unsure if we would need to have a C-section or not because my active little boys kept flipping! This was a big area of surrender for me as I realized I was not in control of this at all; I mainly had to trust in the Lord that the outcome would be healthy baby boys no matter how they arrived.

Belly-fully of wires at one of my NST appointments

Finally, Baby A was head down and Baby B was breach and we had a decision to make. We were aware of the risks of going into delivery with a breach baby and were told time and time again that I would at least need an epidural - just in case. After much prayer and deliberation my husband and I (with the guidance of our midwife) decided the best course of action would be to bring our boys into the world the way we had always imagined. The week of our induction, scheduled for that Friday, I still had my appointments with my midwife to monitor the babies heart rates, my blood pressure and etc. By the end of my pregnancy I had been seeing my midwife twice weekly for NST's (non-stress tests) and the MFM every other week so I was no stranger to being hooked up to monitors and having people poke and prod at my enormous belly. At my last scheduled office visit my midwife wanted to see if I was dilated and I eagerly waited for her to give me some good news to bypass the induction thing all together. Sadly I was still only a few centimeters along but she lifted my semi-bed rest restrictions and sent me on my way.

In my last week of pregnancy even photoshop
can't hide the tired look on my face!

I wanted so badly to go into labor on my own so I was an active woman for the rest of the day cleaning, hanging curtains, and ending with a wonderful date night out with my hubby. I thought I was having some (faint) contractions throughout the evening so that night I headed to bed hopeful it wouldn't be long.

And it wasn't!

My water broke just before midnight Wednesday night with a vengeance! It took a nanosecond to realize what was happening before I woke Jesse up, ripped the sheets off the bed (so the mattress wouldn't get dirty of course), and hobbled towards the shower. After sufficiently rinsing off I hopped out of the shower, grabbed my towel and...another gush! Wait a minute! I thought your water only broke once?? "Maybe it's the other sac," I thought. I rinsed off again thinking I was surely done with this leaking nonsense.

Nope...

There's more??

I should have read up on this part a little bit more because, boy was I clueless!! After resigning to the fact that I wouldn't get to feel clean for at least the next 24 hours I threw on some comfy clothes, grabbed my bag (and a thick towel to sit on) and headed towards the car.

We drove to the hospital downtown, after phoning our midwife on the way, and Jesse dropped me off at the entrance while he parked the car. I humbly hobbled past a group of young teenagers towards the front desk and asked for a wheelchair escort as I continued to leak onto the floor. I was feeling a lot of pressure by then and was afraid with each step a baby was going to come sliding out. The woman hesitantly whisked me up to the 3rd floor where I checked in with triage, changed and was hooked up to monitors while they were waking up the doctor on call.

The OB on call that night had been the physician from our office that Jesse and I couldn't see eye to eye with. She was very eager to label me high risk and jot me down for a scheduled c-section, making me feel like I had no say in the matter of birthing my own children. Neither party was thrilled of the other so when she popped into our room to make me sign a "just in case" c-section form it was cold and brief and we just prayed our midwife would arrive soon.

After being checked into our room we were able to walk around the floor as I labored. I always envisioned wanting to be up and walking, bouncing on a labor ball, etc. The last thing I wanted was to be tied to a bed unable to move as I pleased. This little trek was short and sweet as contractions picked up quickly and I was overcome with the urge to lay down. And lay down I did, for the duration of my labor.

For me, laboring was all encompassing every part of my being. It was physical, emotional, mental and spiritual. With each contraction getting stronger and stronger I felt myself sinking deeper into a place of relaxation. Jesse, my husband, was an amazing coach. He had studied the Bradley Method for the past few months and was ready to help me handle whatever birthing challenge came our way. I would not have been able to be so strong without his constant encouragement. With each contraction he urged me to relax, rubbing my arms and back and speaking to me softly, allowing me to feel at peace (well as peaceful as you can be during labor). I remember thinking, "If Jesus could suffer so that I could have life, I can suffer for the lives of my sons." My pain and suffering is a tiny fraction of the pain and suffering Jesus went through as He died on the cross for my sins. As He was separated from God the Father in his pain, I was united. I have never felt closer to the Lord than I did in those moments before and as my children were being brought into this world.

When the time came to push I was filled with this new energy and excitement. I should have been scared out of my mind by this point but it was like my body knew what was coming and was ready. They moved us into the OR (just in case) with a team of 15-20 professionals ranging from an anesthesiologist, two NICU teams, doctors, nurses, interns and our lovely and talented midwife, Ame.

My favorite birthing team. Jesse and Ame

I was oblivious to the excitement around us. My little world involved Jesse, myself (and the boys), Ame, and two wonderful nurses. The rest of the room was like an old camera trying to capture movement, it was all a blur.

Praying during labor

I tried pushing in several different positions before landing on my back in the traditional pose. Nothing can prepare you for the moment you feel your baby coming out of you. There is searing, hot pain all wrapped up with joy and determination. The moment I felt that last push and I saw my sweet boy, Jackson, I forgot about the pain, I even forgot for a moment that I wasn't done pushing. My eyes and heart were solely focused on this precious little gift from God that was crying on my chest.

My Jackson's first moments

As I wanted to slow this moment down and capture it forever in time the room around me frantically hurried around like Black Friday shoppers. Jesse's holding my hand screaming, "YES!" like I just scored a touchdown, our midwife hands me our son, Jesse cuts the umbilical cord, the doctor and resident rush in to do a quick flip on our breach baby still in utero, then it's time to give my Baby A to his pediatric team and focus on our second born.

Jackson, patiently waiting for the arrival of his tummy-mate

I could feel contractions start kicking in after only a few minutes reprise and it was time to start pushing again. I felt such a high from already birthing Jackson and I was more confident this time around. I started pushing and I could feel our other sweet baby beginning to emerge. He was halfway out when my contraction and urge to push abruptly stopped leaving me holding his position and staring at my midwife with wide eyes. "You have to push anyway!" Ame cried, and through sweat and tears I gave birth to little Samson.

Samson with the caring NICU team

Samson

This time was different, my midwife was silent, Jesse cut the cord quickly then Ame rushed him over to the NICU team before even allowing me to see him. Then time stood still and the only thing I longed to hear is the sound I hate most now, my baby cry. And cry he did! After a quick assessment Samson was wrapped and brought to my chest so I could bond with my little Baby B. After 12 hours of labor we had done it, Jesse and I and our amazing team at Methodist hospital, had just witnessed a miracle. The Lord gave us two sons only 22 minutes apart and in those moments we felt the richness of His mercy!

Finally able to hold my Baby B, Samson

Our first family photo: Jesse with Jackson as I hold Samson

As I write this story our boys are three months old. They are growing like weeds and are our pride and joys! I love watching them change and learn how to use their little bodies that house them. I pray for them daily that God would call them as His own and use them for His glory. Jesse and I have a big task ahead of us - raising Godly men but we feel so honored by the privilege to do so.