I hope these posts are not getting tedious. I was going to write about something else, but I think if I put them all together, it will be easier for someone that might be looking to find out the whole story.
Aside from inhaling a ton of food each day and adjusting to a new center of gravity, my pregnancy with the twins was (thankfully) uneventful. Between visits to the nutritionist and the OB, I was in the office of some doctor quite a bit, but I was able to walk there from my lab. My advisor was great about the appointments, and I tried my best to get lab work and writing done during the day, before I became really tired. I played sand volleyball up through week 8 and I ran until 13 weeks. (You can see why I really didn't think having twins was a possibility -- can you do those while having twins? Apparently so.) After that, I walked, probably up until about 35 weeks. Tim was helpful: he let me sit on the couch while he made dinner most nights, and he never let me haul the laundry to the basement. We needed to move -- from a 1 bedroom apartment to a 2 bedroom one -- but we stayed within the same complex, and my mom came up to help with the process.
I found the visits to the doctor fascinating, especially when they took out the in-office ultrasound to check things such as amniotic fluid level. Every time, the babies heads or hands would pop up on the screen, and I was mesmerized. Every time, I would be overcome again with the emotion that I was carrying two babies! I was careful with everything: how I ate, how I slept, where I walked, just to keep those babies healthy. I had milestones in mind: get past 20 weeks, get past the point of viability (about 25 weeks), get to 30 weeks. My doctors and I wanted these kids to stay inside as long as possible. The saying is that the hard part doesn't start until they are out of the womb, and to be honest, I couldn't even imagine what life was going to be like once they arrived.
Because we figured that the kids would arrive early, we did everything in a timely fashion. We attended our Bradley class, tried to come up with a short list of names, and put together the kids' room by the time I was 32 weeks. As I said before, Tim and I were both grad students during this time, so setting up the nursery was going to be a challenge. Thankfully, both Tim's parents and my parent's helped with the necessary items. We tried to be thoughtful: one dresser was plenty, we didn't need a changing table, but two cribs and car seats would be necessary eventually. My good friend Julie, and my sisters, convinced me a baby shower would be good. Our friends would want to get us things, and we really could use them. Again, we were careful as to what we chose. Thanks to that shower, though, we had plenty of underwear, clothes, a pack-n-play and a double stroller, among other things.
The only "issue" I can say that I had was itching. One weekend, when I was about 35 weeks, my belly started to itch. I had just bought a new pair of HUGE pants, and I thought that maybe there was something in the waistband that was the problem. I mentioned it to the resident at my next visit. She looked at my skin, and brought in the regular OB. They were in agreement: I was diagnosed with PUPPP.
I hope that all you pregnant ladies have never experienced this, and if you have, I am sorry. The itching is completely intense. For me, it spread all across my belly, and especially attacked my hands and feet. At night, the pain from itching became almost unbearable. My skin was hot, and itched relentlessly. I woke Tim up (or kept him up) every night when I sat there and scratched my skin for hours. I had declined the offer of an oral steroid (I didn't want anything to harm those babies, you know!) and tried a topical solution to ease the symptoms, but the cream was not working. After Tara came to visit, and claimed that my scabby, swollen feet looked something close to leprosy, I caved and got the prescription for the oral steroid. Thank goodness I did. In a couple of days, things started to clear, and I was once again back to (almost) normal.
By 36 weeks, I was ready to have the babies. Only Baby B (the one farthest from the cervix) had turned head down, so unless Baby A did a cartwheel sometime before I went into labor, I'd be having a C-section. Not my ideal situation, but something I was coming to terms with. However, and understandably so, the doctor said no to my "somewhat in jest" request to take the babies NOW (at my 36 week visit). We all wanted the babies to cook as long as possible, I knew that, but I was large, uncomfortable, and really, really tired. It was the middle of winter, and I was a furnace, I couldn't fit into anything that remotely looked nice, and I could no longer sit at my desk, in my office, for long periods of time.
I never thought I'd make it to 36 weeks with these babies, and here I was, waiting...which was, in reality, a good thing.
I can't believe I just published that photo. I still had 5.5 weeks to go there.
To be continued...
Aside from inhaling a ton of food each day and adjusting to a new center of gravity, my pregnancy with the twins was (thankfully) uneventful. Between visits to the nutritionist and the OB, I was in the office of some doctor quite a bit, but I was able to walk there from my lab. My advisor was great about the appointments, and I tried my best to get lab work and writing done during the day, before I became really tired. I played sand volleyball up through week 8 and I ran until 13 weeks. (You can see why I really didn't think having twins was a possibility -- can you do those while having twins? Apparently so.) After that, I walked, probably up until about 35 weeks. Tim was helpful: he let me sit on the couch while he made dinner most nights, and he never let me haul the laundry to the basement. We needed to move -- from a 1 bedroom apartment to a 2 bedroom one -- but we stayed within the same complex, and my mom came up to help with the process.
I found the visits to the doctor fascinating, especially when they took out the in-office ultrasound to check things such as amniotic fluid level. Every time, the babies heads or hands would pop up on the screen, and I was mesmerized. Every time, I would be overcome again with the emotion that I was carrying two babies! I was careful with everything: how I ate, how I slept, where I walked, just to keep those babies healthy. I had milestones in mind: get past 20 weeks, get past the point of viability (about 25 weeks), get to 30 weeks. My doctors and I wanted these kids to stay inside as long as possible. The saying is that the hard part doesn't start until they are out of the womb, and to be honest, I couldn't even imagine what life was going to be like once they arrived.
Because we figured that the kids would arrive early, we did everything in a timely fashion. We attended our Bradley class, tried to come up with a short list of names, and put together the kids' room by the time I was 32 weeks. As I said before, Tim and I were both grad students during this time, so setting up the nursery was going to be a challenge. Thankfully, both Tim's parents and my parent's helped with the necessary items. We tried to be thoughtful: one dresser was plenty, we didn't need a changing table, but two cribs and car seats would be necessary eventually. My good friend Julie, and my sisters, convinced me a baby shower would be good. Our friends would want to get us things, and we really could use them. Again, we were careful as to what we chose. Thanks to that shower, though, we had plenty of underwear, clothes, a pack-n-play and a double stroller, among other things.
The only "issue" I can say that I had was itching. One weekend, when I was about 35 weeks, my belly started to itch. I had just bought a new pair of HUGE pants, and I thought that maybe there was something in the waistband that was the problem. I mentioned it to the resident at my next visit. She looked at my skin, and brought in the regular OB. They were in agreement: I was diagnosed with PUPPP.
I hope that all you pregnant ladies have never experienced this, and if you have, I am sorry. The itching is completely intense. For me, it spread all across my belly, and especially attacked my hands and feet. At night, the pain from itching became almost unbearable. My skin was hot, and itched relentlessly. I woke Tim up (or kept him up) every night when I sat there and scratched my skin for hours. I had declined the offer of an oral steroid (I didn't want anything to harm those babies, you know!) and tried a topical solution to ease the symptoms, but the cream was not working. After Tara came to visit, and claimed that my scabby, swollen feet looked something close to leprosy, I caved and got the prescription for the oral steroid. Thank goodness I did. In a couple of days, things started to clear, and I was once again back to (almost) normal.
By 36 weeks, I was ready to have the babies. Only Baby B (the one farthest from the cervix) had turned head down, so unless Baby A did a cartwheel sometime before I went into labor, I'd be having a C-section. Not my ideal situation, but something I was coming to terms with. However, and understandably so, the doctor said no to my "somewhat in jest" request to take the babies NOW (at my 36 week visit). We all wanted the babies to cook as long as possible, I knew that, but I was large, uncomfortable, and really, really tired. It was the middle of winter, and I was a furnace, I couldn't fit into anything that remotely looked nice, and I could no longer sit at my desk, in my office, for long periods of time.
I never thought I'd make it to 36 weeks with these babies, and here I was, waiting...which was, in reality, a good thing.
I can't believe I just published that photo. I still had 5.5 weeks to go there.To be continued...
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