I used to be one of those people that always thought how wonderful and “fun” it would be to have twins. I’d like to take this opportunity to hit myself upside the head for such sentiments.
I’ve hit the VERY uncomfortable point of pregnancy and the great news is, it’s only going to get worse, yay! I currently require 4 pillows (1 a body pillow) and a cushion just to get semi comfortable on the couch. Lying on my back is no longer an option because I start to feel breathless and just plain yuck from the weight of the babies pretty quickly. Lying on my stomach ha, let’s not even go there. And lying on either side generally has baby body parts poking out somewhere. Let’s face it, it’s soooooooo comfy having someone’s head or butt protruding from your stomach.
It’s so easy to have an overwhelming desire to call time, to say “that’s it, I’m done, get ’em out”. So easy to be over the sore hips and pelvis (hopefully better tomorrow after a visit to Ms Magic-Fingers aka physio), so easy to be sick of waking up in the middle of the night to vomit meals eaten hours and hours earlier. And then so easy to feel guilt for wishing it all away.
Obviously it is way too early for these babies to make an entrance into the world. Yes, medically they’re at a reasonably “safe” point where they’re increasingly likely to survive but they would require months in NICU and SCN. There would be tubes and needles and all manner of machines that go “ping”. They’d be tucked into a plastic box where I’d have to ask permission to cuddle and hold my babies. I’d have to somehow divide my time between the 2 boys at home who need me and the 2 babies in hospital who would also need me.
It’s hard, it’s draining, it’s exhausting mentally and physically. It’s certainly not the “fun” that I expected it to be, or that I get told it must be (I do love random people telling me how much fun it would be, just makes my day you know). Every twinge has me worried that the babies’ in-utero time is up and really, as much as I’d love all the horrible bits to be over, that’s not the start to life I want them to have.
So, it’s chin up and soldier on. It’s whinge lots to those that love me, it’s lots of thanks to a husband that understands that when I’m snappy and bitchy and moody that it’s not about him, it’s about everything I’m going through.
If you happen to see me in the street, don’t tell me how much “fun” you think twins will be, chances are, if you do, I’ll kick you. Sorry, involuntary twin pregnancy reflex.