Where Have I Been? Part 2: 32 Weeks with Twins and Beyond

Week 32 arrived somewhat uneventfully and I was allowed to go home and leave the hospital.  In total I spent 9 weeks on hospital bedrest, with two at home before that.  So basically the entire summer.  I did not go outside once that entire time.  In fact, the only times I even left my room were to be wheeled to another wing for ultrasounds and NSTs.

I was incredibly fortunate in that the issues with my pregnancy were specific to my cervix.  I did not have sick babies or any other ailments to contend with, and I was thankfully never in pre-term labor. What I had is called incompetent cervix, which occurs when your cervix starts to soften and dilate far too early.  We made the risky decision to have a cerclage performed, where they stitch up your cervix and hope the knot holds long enough for the kiddos to finish cooking, but we had no guarantees, as a cerclage is not recommended in twin pregnancies.  The doctor said it may work, it may not, there is no way to know.  You could also develop an infection from the surgery, or your sac could get punctured, both of which could have had calamitous consequences.  I don't wish that decision on anyone.  We were not candidates for progesterone injections, as they are not successful with multiples.  The only thing we could do was take a gamble on getting the stitches and stay horizontal (upside down in fact) as long as possible.

The long and short of it is that the cerclage worked!!  It worked incredibly well.  I am 100% positive that it was the hospital bedrest that made the difference.  Yes the stitches were totally necessary and thank god my doctor/surgeon was not only a big believer in them but one of the only doctors in my region that even performs then on twins, but bedrest is what really saved those babies.  I know it.  The nurses became my best friends.  I learned the Bravo and E! daily lineup, and thank goodness I was able to work remotely from my bed.  These things saved my sanity.  And my husband, bless his heart, made a point to come almost every single day.  On his way to work or on his way home.  We spent our five year anniversary in my hospital room, having canceled a fun trip to Quebec at the last minute.  He stayed with me all day.  It was actually one of the sweetest, most meaningful anniversaries we've spent together.  I felt truly lucky that day.

The stay was not without hiccups.  I bled heavily the entire time, which was a constant cause for concern.  I had to endure daily tests to monitor the babies which forced me into a position that was uncomfortable and left me gasping for air.  I watched as my muscles I had worked SOOOOO hard for turned to mush.  I tried to talk to my two-year-old on the phone but many times had to hang up so she wouldn't hear me sobbing.  When she visited I couldn't even sit up to hug her.  She would lay in bed with me and we'd watch a DVD or talk about her day at summer camp.  She and her daddy developed a close and special bond, he learned how to do her hair and picked out her outfits, packed her lunch and took her to camp everyday.  My parents had to take our dog to Chicago for the summer because it was just one less thing my husband had to deal with.  It was a lot.

But it worked.  I got to 28 weeks, then 30, then 32, when they finally kicked me out.  They said I'd be back to deliver any minute and I should go home and get settled mentally before they were born.  No one with twins and a cerclage had ever made it past 32 weeks, they said.  So back home I went!  I rode in a car for only the second time that summer, and enjoyed every second I spent waiting at the entrance in a wheelchair for the car to pull up.  At home I spent two more weeks on total bedrest, with my mom there to bring me food and water.  I missed my daughter's third birthday party, but we had our own celebration in my room when she got home.  At 34 weeks I was released!!  I did what any other woman in my position would do.  I got a mani/pedi and had lunch with a friend!  One week later, my little bundles came into the world, at 35 weeks.  We had never found out the sex of the babies, we were just too afraid of becoming attached.  We had a boy and a girl- my little girl was born first, naturally, and then my son, was delivered by emergency c-section half an hour later.  Yeah, don't do that.  Ha!

After ten days in the NICU they were home, and our life as a family of 5 began.

Where Have I Been? Part 1: Hospital Bedrest with Twins

This post was written in June of 2013- about 10 months ago!  I will be posting parts two and three over the next few days. XoXo, GFG

So, I've been gone for a good long while.  I know I know, since February ('13!!).  Things got pretty weird in 2013, not going to lie.  What happened you ask?  Well, long story short I guess, I got pregnant with twins and had tons of food aversions, so much so that the very idea of even reading a food blog, let alone cooking, made me queasy.  Just a handful of foods have been palatable to me for the last 6 months.  I was also a nervous wreck (surprised? haha) and just too jittery and on edge to focus on much.  Cut to 22 weeks or so when I started having cervical issues and started home bed rest, then 23 weeks and an emergency cerclage, and finally here I am at 25 weeks, in the hospital where I've been for two weeks and will remain for probably the duration of my pregnancy.  It has been a bumpy ride so far, to say the least.  Nothing we can't handle, and luckily I have a sweet husband, a helpful mother-in-law, darling little girl, and an incredibly generous and thoughtful mom who will be traveling back and forth from Chicago to KC, to thank for keeping me somewhat sane.

Hospital bedrest is no joke.  I have the utmost respect for women that have to do it for their whole pregnancies.  Whatever preconceived notions you may have about it, don't.  It's not only hard on you, but your whole family, household, your friends, co-workers, everyone.  Simple things like getting yourself something to eat, going downstairs to throw in a load of laundry, putting your child to bed, these things are just gone.  Everytime you get up to pee you wonder if you're putting yourself in jeopardy.  Maybe your little one at home is too young to understand, and has nightmares and develops separation anxiety.  Maybe your family can't visit often, and you spend most of your time alone, except for the staff.

If you're lucky, you are strong and can tell yourself this is only temporary, and for what better cause?You remind yourself that you won't even remember it when it's over, and will soon be something you can barely even recall with any clarity.  You'll emerge stronger and more resilient and more adaptive and, much, much more empathetic to others.  I know I'll be grateful for this someday.

What I won't be grateful for are some of the ridiculous things people think it is actually ok to do. "Some people would kill to be on bedrest!" is a nice little gem I've gotten oh so fond of hearing.  Oh really? You'd kill to be confined to a bed your whole pregnancy?  You wouldn't rather be enjoying it, preparing yourself and your family and household for what's ahead?  Enjoying what it's like to have a small, insular three-person familial unit.  You'd kill to miss months of work, family vacations, holidays, and your five year wedding anniversary because you were recovering from a terrifying surgery and then mandatory bedrest?

How are you feeling everyone says.  Get better soon!  I'm not sick.  I'm pregnant.  I feel pregnant.  I feel pregnant and sad that I can't enjoy it.  My daughter will be three in September and I am missing three whole months of her little life.  She flits in and out of my hospital room, chattering on and on about things I have no concept of, because I haven't been around enough to know what she's talking about.  How do you respond when someone says how are you feeling?  I can't say what I want to say, which is, I feel lonely.  I feel sad.  I feel hopeless.  I feel like no one understands.  Maybe these things aren't true, but I can still feel them, even if I know deep down these feelings are just me having a pity party.  Instead I have to fake it, and say, good, great, fine, because I don't want to upset anyone, make anyone feel bad or pity me, and I don't want people to think I'm ungrateful.  I appreciate the sentiment, it's better than nothing.  Get better soon! they say.  What does that mean?

People don't know how to act, I get it.  Especially people that have never faced any kind of adversity in their life.  They just plain don't know how to react.  They are dumbfounded.  So in their dumbfoundedness they say whatever comes to mind.  A good friend leaves messages saying, "Hope you're feeling great!  Hope you're doing well and having a good day! Hope you had a great July 4th!" I appreciate the effort, I truly do.  But did you really think I had a great July 4th?  I was alone, in a hospital, knowing everyone I loved was somewhere else, without me.  I could hear fireworks going off in the distance but couldn't even sit up to try and spot them out my window.  And yes, it's one holiday. Just one.  I'll get over it.  But in this moment, I am just trying to claw my way out of this little hole I've found myself in.  I'll get out.  There's a light at the end of the tunnel.  If I can make it 9 more weeks, I'll be great.  I can do it, what's 9 weeks right?