Excuse Me, Dear Son? But Could You Please Remove Your Foot From My Cervix?

That was the image that greeted us on our routine ultrasound about a week and a half ago.  A perfect little set of five baby toes wiggling around, dipping in and out of a little pocket where the top of my cervix should have been.  In the span of two weeks my cervix apparently went from ‘long and closed’ to, well, almost gone.  Then for the next three days it diminished further and further.  Now as a result I’m currently in lockdown at a minimum security prison the antenatal unit at a hospital about 6 hours away from home.  Where I’ll probably be until these little assholes miracles are born.

When this happened I was just a touch over 23 weeks, which is an extremely tenuous time in a pregnancy.  It’s right there at the cusp of ‘maybe’.  As in, maybe they would survive if something happened and I went into labour.  But fortunately and unfortunately the short cervix thing is also a big maybe.  As in, maybe it means something, maybe it doesn’t.  So in my doctor’s eyes the only course of action was banishment.  He basically wanted me and my bum cervix out of his jurisdiction. 

After we left his office I hopped onto the stage 2 bandwagon for a while and enjoyed a little denial.  I wasn’t going to be hospitalized, thankyouverymuch.  I felt fine, I had appointments in the city the following week; I’d just go to those, the other doc would say it’s nothing and life would continue on.  I even went back to work after the ultrasound.  That afternoon my doctor called me, at work, and said he had talked to my doctor in the city and it was time to go.  Now.  I still resisted.  Finally three days later, after a lot of pouting, crying, and wanting to stomp my feet but not being able to because they needed to be elevated, we were in the car on the way here.  Two days later, after talking them into two more nights of freedom, I was admitted.  Now here I sit.

The best and worst part about this is that I feel perfectly fine.  The babies are all happy and big, moving like crazy and growing right on schedule.  And there is a very good chance that I will make it far, far along before I go into labour.  But, I also might not.  No one really knows for sure.  And since they don’t know they need to err on the side of caution and keep me here, under their watchful eyes.  Which, quite frankly, fucking sucks.

I know I need to be here, and after I processed everything I was able to focus more on what’s best for the babies vs what’s best for me right now.  I know this ultimately minor hiccup will afford the best possible outcome if these little buggers decide they just can’t wait to meet us.  And by the time we got in the car on Friday I was starting to get genuinely scared that something may happen after all.  Then I felt really guilty for focusing mainly on just how much this sucks for me, how much it screws up my day to day, and how much I just didn’t WANNA.  I would miss my husband!  I had plans!  I was going to work for two more weeks!  I wanted to be fat and happy on my couch until they were ready to pop!  ME ME ME.  I just wasn’t ready for the realization that I don’t matter anymore.  My husband isn’t the most important thing in the world to me anymore.  It’s them.  And for the rest of my life it will be them.  It just feels like I got robbed of the last weeks or even months of, well, being selfish.  I don’t get to cuddle on the couch with my husband, watching movies and making him get me ridiculously indulgent treats.  I don’t get to ‘nest’ and get familiar with all things baby and nursery.  I don’t even get to lay there with a cat curled up on my huge belly, giving it dirty looks when a baby kicks.  Which sounds so insignificant but while sitting here in a hospital bed it seems so massive.  And alright, I’m clearly not over the me me me part yet.

You're MYTHing The Mark

People ask some dumb questions about multiples.  Or, I should say, questions that sound dumb to someone who's done a lot of reading and research on the subject.  But really, so many of the things people say make your eyes glaze over - it really is just a matter of common sense sometimes.  Here's some of the things I've noticed people don't seem to 'get' about multiples.

1)  So are the identical twins girls, boys or one of each??

What do you think 'identical' means?  A penis and a vagina are never, ever going to be identical.  Identical means they are the same, THE SAME.  That means the same eyes, same hair, same genitals.  Don't ask a multiple parent if their boy/girl twins are identical.  Please.  It's a really, really dumb question.  And pretty insulting to at least one of the babies.

2)  So are there lots of multiples in the dad's family?

I'm sorry, does daddy ovulate?  Because unless he does his family history of multiple births matters not.  Mom can definitely inherit the proclivity to ovulate more than one egg in a cycle, from EITHER of her parents, but when it comes to the chance of conceiving multiples dad's baby batter has no bearing.  Also making only the incidence of fraternal twins possibly genetic, because they are from two separate eggs fertilized by two separate sperm.  But anyone could spit out two eggs at random in one cycle, it's not strictly up to genetics.  That's why fertility drugs increase the odds of multiples so much.  The chance of conceiving identicals, one egg fertilized by one sperm, is what science refers to as 'a fluke', as far as I can tell.  In my case I DO have a genetic predisposition to hyper ovulate, there are a lot of twins in my dad's family, even one set of triplets.  So that may be why I ovulated two eggs in one cycle.  However when one decided to split that was pure coincidence.  Or as is my understanding, bear in mind I'm not a doctor.  

3)  OMG!  The government is going to give you a million kick backs and tax breaks!!

No, they don't.  In fact, here in our home and native land they give you jack shit for spitting out a litter of children.  You're entitled to the same child tax credits and things like that as you would be for three children born from three separate pregnancies.  You get the same maturity leave for the same amount of time as you would for one baby, and there is no help on baby items like car seats, cribs etc.  A lot of people seem to be under the impression that the government is going to shower us with benefits.  They are not.  Some COMPANIES do offer savings packages to parents of high order multiples, but it's really just things like one time coupons and almost always for things like diapers and formula.  Helpful and awesome, yes, shouldering much of the financial burden, no.  Unless you're octomom and plan to pimp those babies out, you aren't making off like a bandit from having multiples.    

4)  So who's the oldest?

No one, that's stupid.  Birth order matters not with multiples.  I guess you could be a weirdo about it and be all like 'little Steve is 2 minutes older than Frank and Gary so he's the big brother'.  Yeah, he's not.  Steve, Frank and Gary aren't an oldest, middle and youngest child - they're triplets.  It's a whole different ballgame.  Mine will be born by C section, I don't care who gets yanked out of there first, I just care that they all come out healthy.  Their personalities will in no way be influenced by the order in which they're removed from my person. 

That's just some of the myths that people propagate.  They're slightly annoying.  So don't say things like that.  Please.  And maybe don't ask if they're natural, that's potentially insulting too.  Even if they were conceived through in vitro or fertility treatments, they're still 'natural'.  What's an 'unnatural' triplet?

The Small Town Trap

We live in a relatively small town.  I mean, sure, we have a Walmart, lots of grocery stores, all the amenities we really need, but one thing we do not have is easy access to quality medical services.  This is posing one of the biggest challenges for us with this triplet business.  In most every other facet I quite enjoy living in a small town.  I find having too many choices to be daunting, I hate traffic, generally not a fan of people; so I am quite suited to living here.  Plus all of our family, friends and even a lot of our extended family are here.  I've never felt the need to 'escape' from this town.  But since we've joined to multiples crowd we've found out we're going to be doing a fair bit of traveling.  

We have to travel about 6 hours away for appointments with specialists and we will also have to have our babies there.  This is not particularly convenient but it's also not the end of the world.  However, we are quickly finding out that these highly qualified doctors and specialists simply do not give one shit about how far away we're coming from.  They also don't care if they screw up and make us book an appointment for a full anatomy scan 3 entire weeks before it's even possible to do one, basically resulting in making this long trek just to eat some New York Fries, Yogen Fruz and enjoy a delicious Second Cup (side note: almost worth it).  It's frustrating.  And they would rather roll over and die than admit maybe one of them made a mistake and booked an appointment way too early.  AND if you try to convey to them that you would really, really appreciate it if they could work with you and try to streamline all these appointments as much as possible so you can make as few trips as possible they act like you're saying 'fuck you, babies, I ain't making this long ass trip anymore'.  In short, some of them are dicks.  Dicks you have to drive a long way to see.

Another thing that has made me a little more cognizant of the small town trap is the grape vine suddenly becoming extremely annoying.  I've never really been bothered by small town gossip, and I now realize that's because I've never had anything happen to me that was actually worth gossiping about.  Apparently conceiving a litter of babies is quite gossip worthy.  My crowded uterus has been quite the hot topic.  And I kinda, sorta, really hate it a whole lot.  And even though we were quite careful about who we told in the beginning the news traveled steadily throughout Dodge.  I don't like attention, I don't like people nosing in on my business, and I especially don't like the idea of information getting all twisted up and turned around - which I'm sure will happen.  Maybe I'm weird, I don't know, but I just don't like being a spectacle.  Even when it's good news and people are all excited and happy for us it still bugs me.  I think maybe I'm just an asshole.  Sorry, children.

I'm almost 5 months along and that's really the only shitty thing about pregnancy for me.  I guess I shouldn't complain about it, huh? 

      



 

The Glass Case of Emotions

I'm not, by definition, an emotional person.  I'm realistic, analytical, maybe a little cynical, and in general I'm extremely adept at dealing with most anything.  I'm perfectly capable of feeling feelings, I just don't let them take over my life or crowd up my brain.  I guess maybe that's because my life has been so wonderfully, well, easy up until now.  This has been a game changer in the emotions department.

A friend of ours who has had twins gave me a book called When You're Expecting Twins, Triplets or Quads By Dr Barbara Luke.  If you are, then get it.  It's so much more informative than books like What to Expect When You're Expecting.  Multiples are a whole different ball game, and you need to treat them as such.  So, seriously, that's my plug - buy that book.  I'm sure I'll talk about it a lot more if I stick to the blogging thing.  But, I digress.  The part of the book that's applicable to this post is the part about the emotional stages you go through while processing all this.  I'm not through all of them yet, but here's my experience with each stage so far.

Stage 1:  Shock

Yes.  This was the first stage.  It's impact was immediate, undeniable and exactly as described.  I was really fucking shocked.

Stage 2:  Denial

I also felt this very, very clearly, as did my husband.  Once the shock wore off we both felt like there was just NO way it was going to happen, so why even be worried about it.  I kinda liked denial, it was pretty soothing.  Both of us honestly thought that something would happen, a vanishing twin or an issue that would have to end with a reduction, and that we just simply would NOT be having three babies.  Denial wore off after a few more ultrasounds showing three pretty large and lively babies.  Gradually the sweet embrace of denial wore off and gave way to...

Stage 3:  Anxiety/Anger/Depression

I think I'm still kind of in this stage.  Definitely feeling the anxiety when thinking about all the things up ahead.  Not just with the pregnancy but with the reality of having three babies all at once.  It's a stressful thought!  I'll start thinking about money and how I wont be able to go back to work, or about random things like what in the hell will we do when they want to drive?  What if they're smart and they want to go to college??  It's not crippling or overwhelming, just a little touch of anxiety.  A taste of what's yet to come as a parent I suppose.  And anger, yes, we felt the anger and I guess we still are.  But I don't WANT three babies!  WHY!  HUH!!!  WHY US!!  We wanted one perfect little baby child to love and cherish and raise to the best of our ability, what did we do to deserve THREE??  It's selfish and it's stupid and it makes you feel guilty, like most things that make you angry.  It's dumb, don't spend too much time there.  I don't think I really felt too much in the way of depression.  More like just being a little down thinking about things like potential bed rest, weeks or even months in a hospital 5 hours away from home.  Watching three little heathens destroy out beautiful home.  Ya know, the shitty stuff.  Depression's worse than anger, I recommend just skipping over it altogether.

Stage 4:  Bargaining

I don't think we're here yet.  I think we're still hoovering about stage 3 being a little anxious and mopey.  I hope that bargaining will be more encouraging than terrible.  Like, I promise to eat this huge well cooked streak even though I'd rather have medium rare, you just promise to produce three healthy babies, uterus.  We're not religious, we wont be bargaining with the man upstairs, so really I think most of the bargaining will be done with ourselves.

Stage 4:  Acceptance/Adaption         

We're getting closer with each of the other steps.  I think we pretty much HAVE accepted it, and are starting to adapt.  I think after our first appointment with the specialist in the city this Monday we'll be a lot farther along in this stage.  I think the bigger part of this stage will be accepting and adapting to something abnormal should it arise.  I really hope we just don't have to worry about that.  In fact, I think I'll just pop back over to stage 2 for a while.

So far I think that's a pretty accurate assessment of the stages for us.  Everyone will of course experience them in vastly different ways.  All I can really say is, enjoy stage 2.  Just don't hang out there too long.   

The First Trimester: Seriously? Was that IT?

I was originally going to make this post about feelings, but.... well, those are gross soooo I think I'll just brag about my easy breezy first trimester instead.

Today marks the end of my first trimester, or the 'wait and see' period as my OB rather sinisterly referred to it as.  My husband's birthday, the day I peed on that fateful stick, seems like simultaneously a million years and 10 minutes ago.  This first trimester has flown by, but since we've been digesting the surprise! there's three people inside of you! news since 6 weeks it's also felt like I've been pregnant for much, much longer.  It's strange, as time tends to be.  At the very beginning I of course read up on all the wonderful things I could expect to experience in the first three months of joining the knocked up club.  And I'm super happy to announce that I only experienced like three of them, and just ever so slightly.

I'm sure I'm the kind of bitch that makes other moms to be spit with rage, and that's perfectly fine with me.  Hate all y'all want, because I have yet to puke, had maybe two days of indigestion and aside from a little bit of food aversion I pretty much had a normal appetite throughout.  They say to expect exaggerated symptoms with multiples but apparently I'm a glorious freak of nature.

The only really pronounced symptom I've had is fatigue.  Growing three fetuses is exhausting, and I've definitely felt that.  I'm tired, I do not wish to be vertical.  I've also had quite a few more headaches than usual.  For a little while I wasn't really nuts about food, the thought of certain edibles made me feel icky and some smells got to me a little.  But I also think the food aversion could be attributed to stress, as the shock of that first ultrasound definitely created quite a bit of that.  But really, that's about it.  Oh, and it occasionally hurts like an absolute MF'er when I sneeze, as my poor uterus is a little taxed at the moment.

So, really from my perspective I don't know what all this first trimester fuss is all about.  A few days where cheese made me a little gaggy and some extra naps?  Pfft, if the rest of this is going to be such a breeze, then bring. it. on.  (I'm sure I will choke on those words in due time)

Oh, and the fetuses share their second trimester birthday with their Auntie Erin Fabulous.  Happy birthday to all four of you :)

And Then There Was Five...

I'm not sure if I'll stick to this or not, if it will be beneficial or not, or even if anyone will read it or not, but either way I've decided to do the customary thing and start a 'holy shit we're having three babies oh my god holy shit' blog.  Since finding out I've of course been scouring the internet for information on multiples and one thing I've found not only interesting and informative but extremely soothing and comforting is real live people's personal accounts of their lives with triplets.  Maybe I'll be able to offer that to someone else, maybe not.  Time will tell.  But until then, here's a little bit about MY triplet situation and how we got there:

I'm 29, my husband and I will have been married for 4 years this May and have been together for the better part of 14.  We met in junior high, dated through most of high school, went our separate ways for a few years after we graduated and then found our way back to where we needed to be.  We married in Vegas on the ten tear anniversary of when we first started 'going out' in high school.  My point being is that we're as meant to be as could be, very stable, very established, and were very read to start a family.  I don't know if that's important, probably not.  Oh well.

We've been living in our current home for a little over 3 years, and have been busy with the massive task of renovating an ugly 1971 fixer.  We've been knocking off projects at an alrightish pace and the last thing we completed was the 'office' which would 'one day' be a nursery.  After that was finished we started having the baby talk more and more frequently and seriously.  Finally we decided that we'd allow ourselves one more summer to get drunk on patios, go camping and rip around on our Rhino and generally just be irresponsible young adults before trying to conceive.  We also decided that instead of going to Mexico with friends in the fall, we'd have a baby.  So that MUST mean we were ready.  We threw caution and condoms to the wind at the end of August.

We copulated like bunnies pretty much all fall.  After 2 cycles I got a little more serious about it, cut out caffeine and wine, read up on all the ins and outs (lol).  My gift to my husband on his 29th birthday at the end of November was a positive pregnancy test.  I know, adorable right??  So it took us a very average 3 months to get pregnant.  I kind of just expected that everything else would just keep going right along all average like.  It did not.

The day before my birthday 2 weeks later I had my first appointment with the obstetrician.  I have a thyroid condition so I was referred because apparently it really ups the risk factor with pregnancies.  I didn't know what to expect, I thought I was just going in for a hey, how ya doin? consultation.  It was not that.  I had my first full exam (sorry about those sasquatch legs, doc!) and my first ultrasound, I was right around 6 weeks along.  Oh!  You are having a twin pregnancy!  he said.  I teared up a little bit, that was actually kind of neat, exciting. Then came an oh, wait.  Wait for what?  What's wrong??  There are THREE, he said.  Uhhhh, three WHAT? I said.  Three heartbeats, he said.  And to be perfectly honest everything after that is kind of a blur.  He sent me to the hospital to have another ultrasound with the radiologist to confirm what me saw.  My husband was at work an hour or so away so he couldn't make it it, thankfully my best friend and 'person' came with me, picking me up and handing me a pumpkin spice tea.  Needless to say the doc at the hospital confirmed it, pretty sure my BFF pooped a little and we walked out of the hospital in a daze.

Since then it's been a wait and see because it was so, so early on.  But today I'm almost 12 weeks along and everyone is still present and accounted for.  Two identical twins sharing a sac and a fraternal sibling chilling out in their own.  We could see them wiggling all around on the last ultrasound, pretty amazing.  I've been a pretty regular visitor at the OBGYN's office and the nurses there are just shitting themselves since none of them have ever seen a triplet pregnancy before.  EVERYONE's shitting themselves, ourselves included.  But our feelings have been a little more of a roller coaster, a lot of fear, disbelief and maybe even anger mixed in with the joy.  It's going to be a ride, that's for sure.