In the beginning, there were no obvious signs that labour was
impending. We went to bed Monday night
with nary a thought of immanent birth.
At 2:30 in the morning (of the 15
th) my water broke. Not exactly a sensation one wants to wake
to. I proceeded to the shower while
Robin woke my mom and the two of them fretted over how “slow” my shower was.
Hey, a girl likes to feel clean and I knew it would be a while before I could
shower again. And yes, I also stopped to
brush my teeth. We then had to throw some
items in a bag because, of course, I hadn’t really packed for myself yet. I had
baby stuff packed up long ago, but for myself I had very limited clothes, etc,
that fit me so I could not afford to pre-pack any. And much of what I would need in hospital is
the same as I needed at home on a daily basis. I wasn’t in a rush. I wasn’t
experiencing contractions. I think I may
have had one or two “Braxton Hicks” level contraction on the car ride to the
hospital, but that’s been common for me when in a car. I’d been joking before that maybe we should
just drive around all day to bring on labour, since I have the most
contractions sitting in a car on the streets of Winnipeg. (Folks back in KW – if you think the roads
there are bad…)
It wasn’t long until we were checking into triage. Folks were amazed that a twins-momma who was
technically “in labour” was walking in.
However, for me, the only difference from the previous evening was that
my water had broken.
At some point after we left home I realized that the 15
th was the
day in which I had “penciled in” the twins’ birth many months ago. It was the 37 week (of 40) gestation date and
I had marked it on the calendar as a reference point for us. Little did I know it would turn out to be
their birthday!
The next several hours I recall as relatively “boring” and
“uneventful”. I wasn’t having a lot of
contractions in triage. The doctor who
visited us early on spoke of chemical induction around 0830h (or at least
re-examining the possibility of) if there were no developments. However, I do know that before 8am it was
clear that labour had started and I wouldn’t need to be induced. I considered the contractions to be
“mild”. I think those were the ones I
jokingly called “Skip-Bo Contractions” because when I was having early labour
contractions with Abi my mom and I were playing Skip-Bo and I would
occasionally have to pause during a contraction before continuing play.
At 8am I know I had my second round of antibiotics (because I was GBS
positive – again). Around 8:30, they
made the first check of my progress and much to my surprise I was 80% effaced
and 6/7 cm dilated. I was surprised
because it really didn’t seem to me that my contractions had been intense
enough – compared to my active labour with Abi.
But I suppose effective contractions don’t have to be “intense”. My contractions by then were sometimes more
than “Skip-Bo” level, but they were between 3 and 6 minutes apart and not
consistently strong (to my mind).
Having found that I was further along than expected, I was moved to
L&D. For the next three hours my
contractions continued. Sometimes they were more intense than others. Mostly I was complaining of hunger… Oh, and
the blood pressure monitor, I hated that thing squeezing my arm. I preferred a contraction over that
monitor. I also felt confined to the bed
because of a) the fetal monitors strapped to my belly and b) I was too f’n
hungry to move. In theory I could have
stood up or been on my hands and knees, etc, as I did with Abi. Much to my surprise, however, I labored on my
back. There was no way I could do that
during Abi’s labour. However, I also
felt as if these contractions were much easier to handle. There was a period even – when I’d insisted
Robin go get himself some food because I didn’t want him to collapse later –
that I shifted my pain management to internal visualization. Remember, these contractions didn’t feel
sufficiently “intense” or frequent enough to me, so I focused on relaxing
during contractions and imagining everything opening up, hoping that would help
things progress – so the babies would be born and I could eat! Honestly, that
was foremost on my mind: food. Between
those “relaxing” contractions I was napping, because I was also quite tired.
Imagine that.
Close to noon I was 9cm dilated. While we waited for the last centimeter,
the doctors spoke with me again about whether or not I wanted an epidural. I had previously insisted not and that was
also in my birth plan. However, much to
my surprise, I changed my mind. Not
because my labouring was harder than before, but because of the possible risks
during delivery of baby B. Now that I
was in labour and recalling more intense contractions, I realized that the
(strong) possibility of having someone reach in and manually turn B and then
hold her in position during contractions (internally) to make sure she
descended head down, was perhaps more than I could tolerate. Especially without food-energy. Yes, I was feeling that hungry/tired/out of
energy. On top of that was the
possibility of an emergency c-section which, without an epidural, would require
general anesthesia. In the end, caution
won out. I was basically ready to
deliver and then had the epidural.
Receiving the epidural was also easier than expected. The forewarned “burn” was nothing, although I
was chuckling to myself that the “count of 5” was realistically more like a
count of 10. The worst part was the
three contractions I had during the procedure because the position I had to sit
in made for very intense/uncomfortable contractions and there was no way to
counter the pain during the procedure.
Contractions post-epidural quickly became very surreal. Needless to say they were less intense in
sensation and became increasingly less painful with time so that by the time I
was delivering Claire I had to be told when I was having a contraction. Soon after the epidural I was prepped for the
high-risk birthing room once I felt the need to push. That need was not as intense as last time
either, but there was clearly a new sensation of pressure that could only be
interpreted as “ready to push”.
Robin changed into scrubs and we got matching hats. I was rolled down the hall and transferred to
a thin OR table which wasn’t nearly as clinical and uncomfortable as I’d
feared. I was strapped into the heavily
padded stirrups – another feature of delivery I didn’t imagine I’d want. However, since I couldn’t feel much below I
wasn’t about to try a side delivery as planned (with my natural birth
plan). Doctors slowly started
gathering. I was eventually asked to give
a couple “trial” pushes to see where the baby was at while we awaited the
attending ((who I believe was at another birth…. It was a busy day. The twins
were number 4 and 5 for her that day, and it was early yet). Turns out, Lucy was right there ready to
go. So, I was asked to “wait” through a
“couple” more contractions while the rest of the team assembled. All the baby nurses, anaesthesiologists (in
case of emergency C-section), scrub nurse, yadda yadda. (The male resident I kindly refrained from
snapping at earlier when he first visited me and asked stupid, poorly-framed
questions during contractions was already there looking totally unsure of
things. I guess he’s new. Lucky for him
I wasn’t going all-natural on his ass. Okay, that’s funny to me… He just bugged
me. Robin did give me kudos for being polite
– he could see how unimpressed I was and agreed with my impression of the
resident. Yay me for being nice during labour. That’s right, I didn’t tell
anyone to f-off and I didn’t curse Robin.)
(I had blamed Robin earlier for the twin pregnancy just because I was
impatient with being pregnant and huge and sore.)
As we were awaiting the gathering of the “birthday party”, a “couple”
contractions turned out to be more like a dozen, but who was counting? And
considering my contractions were not exactly back to back, it was a while. I recall thinking to myself, “good thing
these are not intense-feeling, must-push-and-screw-what-you-say-doctor
contractions”. Mostly I could just
chuckle to myself at the situation. Yes,
it was that surreal. It seemed particularly surreal because everything (so far,
and to come) had been so much different than my pregnancy and labour and
delivery with Abi.
Finally I was informed I could push again.
Ring of fire… head coming… plenty of hair… inquiry if I’d had bad
heartburn – nope, none… more pushing… and at some point but I can’t recall if
it was before or after Lucy was born there was no more “ring of fire” because I
must have received a local anaesthetic, perhaps in anticipation of future
stitches for the tear… and once Lucy’s head was out I think I had to wait a
contraction or two while they turned her?, then she was out. Everything after the head is easy. And there was my baby in front of me. I cried.
There was still more work to be done.
She was quickly cleaned up (I’d been told I’d hold baby first before
cleaning and weighing…) and Robin was snapping pictures of her to show me on
the camera, and then she was in my arms.
 |
| With Lucy |
Meanwhile we were preparing for Claire’s birth. She did not flip. In fact, she nicely descended head-first,
ready to go. Not at all a troublesome second twin. We had to wait a bit for my
body to recover again and re-dilate a little, but not long since she was born
17 minutes later. By that point all the
meds had really kicked in and I had to be told when I was contracting, etc. Et voila, there was my baby. Soon in my arms.
 |
| With Claire |
Both were of excellent health, scoring 9 on their agpars, which is pretty
much perfect. (There were jokes in the
room about 10s being nearly impossible unless baby was doing some special
tricks at birth, so I gathered 9 was pretty damn good.) Nevertheless, because of Lucy’s small size (just
shy of 5lbs) she automatically had to be taken to the Observation Unit to be
monitored after birth. Claire, however, stayed with us (she is the larger and
6lbs6oz at birth, which is less than the estimated 7lbs+ at the last
ultrasound).
Quickly birthed the placenta then was stitched up for a tear I heard the
doctor describe as a “one point five”, which is far better than the 2.9 I had
with Abi. It wasn’t long until I was
being transferred back to a bed on wheels.
They’d suggested I inchworm my body sideways, but I suggested I’d rather
roll onto my side – rolling was easier. Oh, such a sweet position to be in
after being on my back for so long during labour and delivery. The irony of it: that I’d been sleeping on my
side only for months longing for another sleep position and here I was happily
embracing my side again. It will be a
while yet before I can comfortably sleep on my tummy (it’s not my tummy that’s
the issue).
 |
| Mandy and Claire |
Claire and I, with Robin alongside, were wheeled into a small room in
L&D. It was a busy, busy day at SBGH
for births and all the recovery rooms were occupied (there were several
c-sections that morning), so since I was doing well I was placed in the only
remaining room, which happened to be their “backup” room. Not that we cared about the size, but
apparently it was more a PITA for staff because the room doesn’t have any
supplies in it. We weren’t there for
terribly long before being transferred to a semi-private room (or so I assume
since we had the large room to ourselves but shared a bathroom) in the
post-partum wing. I don’t think they
could have fit us in a shared room. We don’t have insurance coverage for
hospital stays, but I was pretty sure we’d end up in semi-private because of
the twins.
 |
| Lucy and Claire |
Meanwhile, Lucy (who at the time was nameless, like her sister) was still in
the Observation Unit. While in L&D
she’d been brought to me to nurse because she had low blood sugar. However, her blood sugar remained low and we
were faced with a choice of either IV for fluids or bottled formula. We do plan to use bottles as well as breast
later, so we chose the bottle option rather than see her hooked up to IVs. She’d taken quite easily to the breast, just
like her sisters (Abi was a pro from birth also). Thus Lucy was started on her “requirements” –
measured amounts of formula that started with very small portions (15ml) every
2-3 hours. She was taken back to
observation until later that evening when she finally joined us in the room for
good.
 |
| Abi, Claire, Mandy |
Claire continued to breastfeed and we’d have Lucy nurse too to keep her
breast-trained, even though she was still required to have measured amounts of
formula. Robin went home in the evenings
with Abi, who was quite upset that I wouldn’t be joining her at home right
away. Fortunately, we were able to leave
the hospital on Thursday afternoon, so the babies and I only had 2 nights in
hospital. The staff provided great
feeding support. Since we’ve been
fortunate to have the babes on the same schedule, the routine I established was
to nurse Lucy a little, then let someone else feed her bottle while I nursed
Claire. That’s still the basic routine
since we’ve been very conscious of Lucy’s need to gain weight and have measured
amounts of food. (However, she is mostly
receiving bottled breast milk now.)
Before leaving they were tested for jaundice and scored very low risk.
Yay. I hated seeing Abi in phototherapy
at the NICU.
That’s about it, I think. They’ve been gaining weight (back) well. Both were tongue-tied, but we were able to
see a wonderful doctor who performs frenetomies a week later (after long
weekend) and their feeding has improved dramatically. (My nipples are also grateful.) I’m a little annoyed that the nurse (who was
otherwise fabulous and probably over-taxed with a full house in hospital) did
not initially confirm my suspicion that they were tongue-tied. The staff in hospital was great and
supportive and I was overall very pleased with my stay at St B, even though in
a perfect world I’d have a homebirth. I’m not upset over the different
experience though. As Abi likes to
remind us, things that are different are not bad, just different. (Granted,
that’s what we tell
her, but it
serves as a nice reminder when she tells me.)
We also have a wonderful public health nurse (who also has twins) who
visits and she’s just as supportive as my midwives were. I hadn’t expected that. Last, but certainly not least, I should note
that my parents are wonderfully helpful with the babies and with Abi (and the
pets). And very last, and most wonderful
of all, is Robin who is such a fantastic father and is still cooking for us –
so I’m eating very well.
We’re managing to squeeze in sufficient periods of sleep. The babes typically last a decent 3 hours
between feedings in the early morning hours.
Before 2am is usually the most tiring period for us and I often take a
late afternoon nap. I’ve also been
pumping a lot of breast milk, so Lucy is almost exclusively on that (Claire is
almost exclusively breast fed), but there are occasions when I’m napping and we
might be out of bottled milk that they get a feeding of formula.
 |
| Lucy and Claire (munching on her sister) |
 |
| Claire and Lucy |
We’re also cloth diapering, and practicing elimination communication (saves
on diapers folks), and baby wearing, and part-time co-sleeping. They do sleep nicely together in their crib
for the most part, however, inevitably there comes a time in the night when
neither will settle there but will sleep soundlessly cuddled with us (or,
usually just me. Robin often takes that period to go sleep elsewhere or cuddle
with Abi – who is usually very happy sleeping in her own bed now but occasionally
wants to cuddle with us instead and will certainly sleep in longer if she is
co-sleeping.)
Okay, I’ll call this the end so I can get it posted. It’s rather long I see.
Featured in the pictures are the wee creatures I knit for the girls (made up along the drive to Winnipeg from Koigu orphans Abi picked out) and the quilt made by my friend's mom (with the Saggy Baggy Elephant).
