Wow! It's been a while since I've written here. Last y'all knew I was 36 weeks pregnant with identical twin girls. Good news - I'm not still pregnant. Whew!
I woke up today to cool, crisp fall air, a quiet home, and a TV not occupied by toddlers - score! I brewed a cup of coffee, popped a bagel in the toaster, and thanked God for my warm home and sleeping family.
I decided that today, on the eve of Emmie and Ellie's second birthday (how are they 2 already!?), I would finally begin to share our birth story. It's taken me some time to feel ok with sharing it mostly because it used to make me really sad. I see my two sweet girls standing in front of me though, and the sadness has faded. Two years later, they're here, they're healthy, they're so incredibly smart and silly and sweet and how they entered this world just doesn't matter anymore. It's still important for me to get their birth story out though. So, here it goes...
I had these dreams of carrying the girls to term and having an unmedicated, natural delivery with skin to skin immediately following, blah, blah, blah. I had made my wishes clear from the very beginning, and my doctor was totally on board only if both babies were vertex at delivery time. Of course they were all over the place my entire pregnancy and at about 32 weeks, Emmie was vertex but Ellie was breech. It was at that appointment that my doctor told me to start mentally preparing myself for a c-section. (He knew how terrified I was of having one.) I remember pouting and he "scolded" me - he said "You don't start being a parent when these babies are born, you start being a parent now and the only thing you should focus on is getting them here safely. It's not about you anymore, it's about them." Talk about a slap in the face!
Fast forward four weeks.
At my appointment on Monday (12/1), I had proteins in my urine and my blood pressure was higher than normal. I felt totally fine though, but my doctor was pretty concerned. He told me to call whatever family planned on being here for the birth when we got home because I probably wouldn't make it to the weekend. I kind of laughed and thought "ok, sure, whatever. I feel fine. He's over exaggerating." He wanted me to collect a 24 hour urine sample and put me on complete bed rest (I was on modified bed rest before that - still working, but part time and from home.). We went home. Called our parents. I emailed work. We went to my aunts' house for dinner, and we were brainstorming ways for me to collect my urine the next day. My belly was gigantic and I could hardly reach all the way down there to pee in a cup and catch every last drop. It was quite the entertaining conversation!
The next day (12/2), I got up, took a shower, had breakfast, and just hung out on the couch with our dogs while Henry went to work. He was super nervous, but I insisted that I was fine. I rested and checked my BP all throughout the day. It was a little elevated but holding steady. I rested a lot that day. My in-laws drove all the way from El Paso to Dallas and got in about 5:00pm. I had ordered pizzas so we could all eat when they got here. Henry got home from work and the first thing he asked was how my blood pressure was. I told him it had been ok all day, but it had been a while since I checked it last. He had me check it, and it was much higher than earlier in the day. Everybody as a little concerned, but I still felt fine, so I didn't think it was a big deal. Henry and his dad went to go pick up the pizzas, I hung out with his mom, and checked my BP again about 30 minutes later. It was even higher. I still felt fine. Henry had me call my doctor. The on call doc called me back right away and told me to come in. She also asked when the last time I had eaten was. I told her 1:00 this afternoon. She told me not to eat anything and to come in ASAP. WHO TELLS A PREGNANT WOMAN NOT TO EAT!? And pizza no less! I was starving. Henry grabbed our hospital bags, my urine collection (ha!), and shoved a couple slices of pizza down his throat and we were off to the hospital...
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