Sierra and Maya's birth story - Part 1

People always ask how we reacted when we found out we were having twins.  The thing is, Will seemed to know, right from the start.  Right from the first few weeks, he would pat my stomach and ask "How are the girls?"  I never took him seriously (you can't blame me, he's a bit of a goof).  In fact, I told him he was crazy - "There's no twins in my family, there's no twins in your family, it's not twins.  Plus, it could be a boy.  You're crazy". 

I had my first ultrasound at 13 weeks, and it seemed to take a long time.  But then, how was I supposed to know the difference?  I'd never had one before.  Will wasn't allowed to come in until the end.  In the mean time I got tired of the silence and started chatting up the technician.  Amidst the chatting, I asked "It's not twins right?  Cause my husband keeps saying it's twins and I want to tell him he's WRONG".  *long pause* Ultrasound attendent: "Why, do twins run in your family?"  Me (growing suspicious) "No...".  *another pause*  "Well they do now!"

I don't even remember if I said anything.  I think I just sat there giggling.  Then they brought Will in - she played it cool, let him look at the screen, he smiled at me, squeezed my hand.  The technician showed us the legs and arms, and the heartbeat.  "So, that's your baby.  Oh, and here's your other baby!" and she slid the camera to the other side.

At this point, most of the dads spew their coffee.  Or freeze, dumbfounded, with their mouths open.  Or cry.  Not my husband.  Anybody remember that Scotiabank commercial with the guy in the shirt?  This one: 



That's what MY husband did.  Right down to the arms.  Right there in the ultrasound room.  It was pretty funny.  What happened the next day, however, not so funny.

We got a call from my doctor, who had received the results from the ultrasound.  She told us that the babies were "monochorionic" ('one chord' - there was only one placenta for both of them).  This meant they were identical twins.  Then she told us that the ultrasound technician couldn't find a barrier between the babies.  This meant they were most likely "monoamnionic" ('one sack', meaning they were both in there together).  This is apparently a very dangerous type of pregnancy - basically a %50 chance of survival.  She said that she wasn't qualified to be our doctor anymore, and she was referring us to a special high risk pregnancy clinic at the local hospital.

At first I was kind of numb.  It took about 24 hours before I actually cried, and I only ever cried once.  I guess I figured "well, it is what it is, and being upset isn't going to change anything".  I'd do whatever I could, whatever the doctors told me to do, and pray like crazy that everything would turn out okay.  I don't think I ever lost that initial fear - it was with me until the last day.

What followed was a bit of an emotional roller coaster.  Every two weeks I went to the hospital for an ultrasound and a consultation.  They found that there actually was a barrier, so the pregnancy went from "ultra high risk" to "medium risk".  (incidentally, we were suddenly much less interesting to the doctors - which was fine with me!).  I was still teaching (I teach grade 1-3 elementary music - best job in the world), I just missed a day every two weeks to pop into the hospital and get smeared with "ultragoo".  Two days before Christmas we found out that the twins would be girls, thus confirming that Will is indeed clairvoyant.  He bought a lottery ticket that day...sadly, his powers didn't extend quite that far.

The first week of January, I was back teaching, and I took off a half day to go in for what was quickly becoming a routine hospital visit.  It was the first time Will didn't come to the hospital - my mom came instead.  I was at 22 weeks.  And something was wrong.  They said I was showing signs of preterm labour.  Apparently I had what's called an "incompetent cervix".

Now, let's pause for a moment and giggle.  Seriously, an "incompetent cervix"?  They couldn't come up with a better medical term than that?  It's so insulting.  I've never been called incompetent in my life!!!

Long story short, the doctor put me on immediate bed rest and booked an emergency surgery for the next day.  I had to call my school:  "Hi, sorry, I won't be coming in."  "You mean for the rest of the day?"  "No, until next April.  Okay, bye now."  The surgery went well (I was hell bound and determined not to have the spend the night in the hospital.  I was up and walking within 2 HOURS of the epidural).  The hospital visits became weekly.

Then came 4 months of bed rest.  I was lucky, I got "modified bed rest".  In other words, I was allowed to putter around the house.  I was allowed to take the stairs 4 times a day (not easy when your kitchen and tv are on a different floor than your bathroom).  If I went out, in was in a wheelchair:

I don't even look pregnant when I was sitting down.  People couldn't figure out why I was in a wheelchair.

Side note:  You know what's awesome when you're stuck in a wheelchair?  The carts at Fortinos.  I used to beg Will to take me shopping so I could ride around in the cart.