The Birth Story

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.