Discovering Twins: written before their birth

This is tougher to share. I wrote this at various times since February, when I learned that I was carrying two babies. It was such a shock to me and so much to process so I would turn to this document at various moments to track the history, evolution, and also my intentions. I tried to fix my mind on the mantra that I wanted to be part of the evidence of healthy, full term twin births. It's painful now, as I did grow two incredibly healthy boys, but one did not survive birth and the toll it took on me was profound. I still feel like I want to share this as it's part of the journey, even though it's much more complicated now.

It felt different.

I know every pregnancy is different. This was really different. 

I couldn’t track it. Or orient.

But it was so hard to say why. Was it because we’re now living in Virginia after twenty years in New Jersey? Is it because I’m primarily a caregiver, versus an entrepreneur with lots of projects and a full calendar? Is it because we’re in year two of a global pandemic? Because gas prices and inflation and everything else are untenable and frightening? Because we survived walking with the MOVE survivors through a public reckoning last summer? Because the landscape of everything I’ve ever known has radically and irreversibly shifted and still hasn’t taken recognizable form?

Could be.

Also, I got big. Quick.

To the point that people would come up and say, “you’re huge! Are they twins?” (The darlings. FYI, if those words ever form in your head, exercise restraint. No one wants to hear them. They’re not helpful.)

And yet, I measured normally at midwife appointments. The doppler picked up one little swimmer’s heartbeat.

As a low-risk second pregnancy, we were on track for homebirth care and could choose testing. We opted to skip the dating ultrasound that happens in the first trimester (it’s primarily to establish your due date, which you really only need if your provider will only assist you up to 41 weeks or so, not the case with our practice) and just do the second trimester anatomy scan.

Well into week 21 (truth be told, 2 days before 2/22/22 when I was 22 weeks with 2 babies) we went in for our ultrasound. For me, this was going to be confirmation that my fears of twins were for naught, that it was just one baby and a perfectly healthy one. 

As soon as the wand touched my belly we all saw it. The tech said, “you know you’re having twins, right?” I started crying and cursing. Kevin laughed uncontrollably. The tech went outside to check with someone else. Upon return she said, “you know this will cost double, right?”

Yeah.

Both babies perfectly healthy. A crash course in twins: Twin A is always the one closest to the exit (even if they change spots). They each had their own placenta and sac, so they’re considered di/di. There’s a 70% likelihood that they are fraternal, two different eggs that happened to drop at the same time. There’s a 30% chance that they’re identical and the egg split within 3 days of conception. We’ll only know once they’re born and we do genetic testing or if they have different blood types, as even if they’re fraternal siblings babies look alike, so they probably will.

(At birth, they looked fraternal but we didn't get a blood test nor genetic testing so we don't know for certain.)

Di/di are the safest version of twins for me and them. They’re basically two, whole separate babies that I carry and birth at the same time. Because they’re di/di and because it’s legal in Virginia (not the case in every US state nor in every country) I’m still eligible for a homebirth.

For our particular babies, twin A was a biggie– 84% percentile on growth (while the growth estimates are always off and not a good predictor of whether or not a woman can vaginally birth her child based on size, they give some indication of health) and head down. His placenta is posterior, meaning towards my back, so I can feel him and have since week 12 or so.

And now why twin B was trickier– he has an anterior placenta, meaning towards my front and he’s up top. The midwives wouldn’t normally look for a baby under my ribs and his placenta was there– which could have been an anterior placenta for one baby. He was hiding.

B was transverse at scan, meaning forming a T above his brother. He was smaller but still very healthy– about 56th. Were they sharing a placenta we would need to try to shrink their growth differential as one twin can take more than their share of nourishment. As they each have their own placenta it’s basically watching two separate babies– they just each need to stay on their own growth trajectory.

(They switched sizes at birth. A/Wes was 8 lbs 6 oz and B/Trus was 9 lbs 6 oz. We checked them by ultrasound maybe 2 weeks before birth and they were estimated around the same size and closer to 7.5 lbs.)

All parts accounted for. 

At the time of the ultrasound, we were still team green. We found out Twyla’s gender shortly after the anatomy scan. I knew this was my last pregnancy and birth so I thought it would be fun to one time have the experience of discovering gender at birth. But given how much was new, we asked the tech to put the gender in an envelope in case we wanted to look later.

It took a long time to process.

I’m still processing.

Some things that I learned: twins are all due to Mama. Apparently, I was a perfect candidate for twins. I conceived at 40, which ups my chances. I conceived right as Twyla weaned and apparently breastfeeding while conceiving also ups your chances. My grandmother had siblings who were twins. Apparently that matters.

And then my hair brained theories: I was conceived when my Mom was 38 and born when she was 39. They thought that I had a twin but it was later discovered that it was a cyst. Now I’m like, did I eat my twin and this is revenge?

Also, I had Covid in March of 2021 was fully vaxxed as of May 2021 and conceived at the beginning of October 2021. In the interim, my very regular cycle became irregular (a very common vax side effect, we’re discovering). I know this makes me a conspiracy theorist to even wonder, but I’m curious if it supercharged my ovulation given the other impact on my cycle. I've also heard that Covid itself has impacted many people's cycles and I had Covid in March of 2021. There is a twin boom right now.

Obviously, IVF and birth support up your chances of conceiving twins. That’s often an invasive question that twin parents receive (again, if you’re tempted to ask someone, exercise restraint. It’s really not your business and something for them to disclose only if they chose). Because I know everyone wonders: no, we didn’t use IVF. We’re broke. And in our case, we luckily didn’t need support to conceive our children but I’m very grateful those practices are in place for others to grow their families.

A few days after we found out that we’re having two more kids, we decided no more surprises. Our inlaws took Twyla for the day so we could drive to Richmond. We hiked around the James River and found a quiet inlet with two white birch trees extending into the water. Kevin opened the envelope and laughed. 

“Two boys.” 

Again, I developed tourettes and shouted obscenities into the air.

I meticulously packed all of Twyla’s baby gear to move it from New Jersey to Virginia, knowing we’d have another child. Come to find out, baby gear for one kid is largely useless with twins. I kept two years worth of her clothes in case we had a second daughter. Two boys.

If we had one more daughter we would have only needed diapers. I thought we were good.

We had nothing.

Of course, I went through all of Twyla’s clothes and kept what’s gender neutral (and now is not the time for gender lectures. I’m aware. It’s all considered. I have my reasons). I have to say, not the best practice when you’re pregnant. I always say that parenting is grieving. You have to give your child room to grow and become, but that means you also have to let go of who they were. There were so many times when Twyla would graduate into a new size of clothes or a new developmental phase or whatever and I would be so excited and simultaneously bereft at losing the little baby I knew and loved so well. The first time, I got through so much by telling myself, “this isn’t the last time. There will be another baby.”

And then I folded up yet another beautiful bubble romper and knew that was the last time. That was the last time I had a little baby girl. That little baby girl. 

I’m in a thousand groups of expecting parents and twin parents and the like and someone said something so sweet about gender disappointment (a very real thing): you’re not sad about the child that you get. You’re sad about the child that will never come.

That was it.

I always wanted a son (can’t say I counted on two!). But this was saying goodbye to any more daughters. 

I’m grateful for the daughter that I have. She’s incredible. She makes me want a thousand of her (though, with the addition of a willingness to sleep). And now, I’m expecting two sons. At the same time. Something I never even imagined.

None of this was on my radar. I’m not someone who ever dreamed of twins or thought dressing two babies the same was cute or anything like that. I’m a pretty individual person and really believe in allowing others to be individuals too. In so many ways, this feels like the greatest challenge.

And yet.

I could fight my life or trust it.

I love Tami Lynn Kent. She writes about mothering as a yogic practice. She writes about those of us who have studied in ashrams, purposefully given ourselves deprivations and challenges so we can see our own shadows and work with ourselves with greater awareness. To her, parenting is the most intense of those practices. 

Having both parented Twyla to this point and studied in an ashram, I concur. In an ashram, I could hide in my own fantasies or duck out to a quiet corner. There was still escape.

With parenting, there is none. It is relentless and utterly all consuming. I know reading that many (women especially) have a kneejerk reaction that who I am as an individual woman gets consumed by the martyrdom of motherhood. That potential is there, and I think it’s largely there in a culture that so deeply undervalues mothers and leaves so little room for support and self-definition in that terrain. I don’t think that’s my personal struggle. I’m pretty clear on who I am, my passions, curiosities, and that I deserve support. And I’m also clear that babies and small humans are labor intensive. The two are both true. And it’s a short-term season. Babies grow into children and part of their growth is the need for more room and freedom. So again, if I do my job, they need me less, I grieve and miss the littles that they were, witness who they are, and make it my own responsibility to fill my time without them defining me. So it is all consuming for a time. It doesn’t mean that I give myself to the cult of motherhood indefinitely. It does mean that I redefine motherhood and let it change me as well.

Here, entering another ashram. Another rite of passage. Another journey into the underground. Like Inanna, I feel like I’m being stripped of everything I know. You birthed a baby unmedicated? Cool. Try two. You made choices to keep your baby safe through pregnancy, birth, and infancy? Now double that and raise the stakes. You breastfed your baby for two years? Try two while caring for a toddler or shift to formula during a shortage and inflation. You bedshare with your now toddler and have since birth? Now think of safe sleep with 3 kids under 3. You love your Honda Fit? Jokes on you. Trade that thing in for a van that can fit 3 car seats. You planned to baby wear all the time to keep up with your toddler? Get ready for double the baby weight strapped to you as your body heals from a twin pregnancy. Have a tiny house with one bathroom? Get ready to share it with the 3 children you accidentally made.

So many of my own past statements are coming back to haunt me. I remember, pregnant with Twyla, when friends would ask if I planned to have more. We hoped to have more but we’ve always kept children close to our vest. It just feels private and sacred and not like something that I wanted to talk about with anyone beyond Kevin. I did say to those that asked that I worried if we opened the door to one more child, a sneaky third would pop in. I meant, like an accidental third pregnancy. But now I wonder, on some level did I know?! Cause that’s exactly what happened!

And I remember reading about how for some the transition from 0-1 child is the greatest challenge and others from 1-2. Here we are going directly from 1-3. 

I read that many parents report the greatest level of challenge and frustration with 3 kids because you’re outnumbered. You don’t even have enough hands for them to help cross the street. (And then parental satisfaction balances again at 4 kids because people just give up, ha!)

Here we are. As a child, I wanted 3 kids. We started late for many reasons and I felt like 2 would be plenty. And somehow: 3. What feels like in so many ways the biggest challenge. And yet, what do I know? These boys are pushing me to have faith. I’m not good at that and yet, people are showing up and helping us. Somehow, we’re getting all the gear we need to care for them. And as Kevin says, maybe this will give us a dose of healthy neglect in our parenting. All kids need a little breathing room. We have to let go. They’ll get it. Maybe this is how I become a better parent: by giving up on control. Trusting that they know the family they want. Being their family.

Now the task is trying to live through the healthiest twin pregnancy that I can. It has been a BALL BUSTER. I loved being pregnant with Twyla. I definitely had hard to handle pregnancy symptoms but overall, I felt better than I do when not pregnant. I was full of life, my hair was great, my mood was balanced, it was a good time. I was so excited to be pregnant again.

I don’t know if I did better with girl hormones versus boy hormones or if it’s just because there’s two of them but this has kicked my behind from day one. Round ligament pain out the gate. Instant acid reflux. Insomnia from the get go. Way more nausea (often while dealing with Twyla’s gastrointestinal woes).

And yet, it’s been healthy. I haven’t had nearly the struggles that many twin moms do. I entered this pregnancy with pubic symphesis dysfunction from two years of sidelying nursing. I immediately started up with mamastefit’s prenatal strength training program, which has a lot of input from pelvic floor physical therapists. I’ve been at the gym with all the bros 4 days a week until the third trimester. When I was able to go to the gym, it completely managed my pain and I think gave me the strength I need to manage the intensity of this pregnancy.

Around 17 weeks, during the Omicron surge, we got it. My second bout of Covid and this time while pregnant. Do not recommend. I was exhausted and tired for a bit beyond that bout, but we’re fine. I bring this up in case it happens to others: it’s not always drastic. I needed examples of people who had it pregnant and made it through ok. I’m not making any claims about Covid in pregnancy beyond my own experience. If you need hopeful stories, let me be one. I tried to avoid it. I was really sad that I got it. And, I can’t control the world. I got it. And the babies and I are ok.

(I know one of the fears is that Covid will impact the placenta. My boys were born at 42 weeks 5 days and 42 weeks 6 days, when many worry about the quality of the placenta. Their placentas were some of the healthiest that the ultrasound techs, doctors, and nurses had seen. So again: covid and late term don't always mean a deteriorated placenta. I'm not making any claims, just offering one hopeful example.)

At 27 weeks, with GERD like I’ve never, I turned to drugs and got prescription strength treatment. It induced something like pregnancy asthma where I often can’t breathe or have coughing spasms that make me feel like I can’t breathe.

As we discovered they’re twins, my midwife recommended the Brewer’s diet and other twin moms sent me books on eating to support healthy twins. Basically, everyone recommends protein every 2-3 hours. Twins tend to grow and develop earlier as they often get evicted sooner. Best case scenarios are getting them big and healthy early so that if they do come quick they’re ready for the world. So my job was to eat and drink. And twin B has been stationed in my throat.

I keep kefir on hand to swig when I’m not hungry (which is most of the time). I’ve always been good about drinking water so thankfully that’s not hard. We are putting collagen in EVERYTHING. Like, in my eggs. My nails are growing so fast it’s ridiculous. But, this is my job. Get these kids healthy.

When the third trimester hit, the exhaustion really slowed me. I couldn’t go to the gym anymore and couldn’t walk far distances due to SPD pain. Thankfully, my inlaws came most afternoons so I could take a nap (given that Twyla no longer did). Rolling over in bed was agonizingly painful. Around this time, Twyla started sleeping in her own bed of her own accord, which helped. She’s still a typical 3-year-old mix of sometimes sleeping with me and sometimes in her own bed, but more and more, I have my bed to myself (for a minute). 

On week 36, our household contracted Flu A. Since then, my right ear has been clogged and I can’t hear out of it. I think I’m just so swollen that that eustachion tube likely won’t open until I give birth. That was an incredibly painful week. My midwives consoled me by saying that babies are generally kind and wait to be born until their mother is well. It was true for me.

The day after I reached 40 weeks full gestation— a completely unexpected milestone— I developed Bell’s palsy. We went to the hospital where doctors surmised it developed from the earlier Flu virus. While they had never seen a full term twin Mom & urged me to deliver, they confirmed that I & the babies were healthy & we all went home. Albeit with my melting face.

Everything is swollen. I hobble. My feet have to be elevated as much as possible. I put on compression socks and usually wear braces for carpal tunnel. I’ve tried gua sha to reduce the swelling in my face and neck. 

I can’t do anything– Kevin has taken up all other tasks. He cooks, as I can’t stay on my feet (I often become breathless). I can’t bend over to pick up Twyla’s toys or fold laundry. I can’t clean. I pretty much try to eat and rest to keep baking our sons while Kevin takes care of everything else. 

I have enough trauma in my life. I don’t need anymore. And collectively, I don’t think we need any more stories of birth nor baby trauma. Things happen that none of us can control and I recognize that. And, I’ve set my intention to be a part of the evidence of healthy, full term twin birth. We need more examples of healthy moms, empowering births, and healthy twin babies. I’m a part of that. While this pregnancy has busted my hump, I write this full term– with healthy twin boys.

Given that we lost Trus at birth, it's hard to read this last paragraph. He was healthy until an hour or so before we lost him. I have so many wishes or what could have happened so that he could be here with us, and so many unanswered questions. For now, I'm focused on healing, helping healthy Wes continue to grow and thrive, caring for Twyla as she adapts to the new normal, and continuing to learn and love Trus in this configuration.

Talking to Twyla about Trus

 

While I was hospitalized, we had an amazing grief counselor who helped us sort through many of the questions that emerged in the wake of Trus' loss. In the aftermath, a friend asked how I was talking to Twyla about Trus' loss so that she could talk to her kids the same. I realized that friends and family would want to know how we're talking about this to be on the same page so I have been trying to carve out a moment to write this, so people can refer to it if it's helpful.

One night Twyla asked Kevin about "trolley trolley trolley," the name she called Trus in utero. Kevin wasn't yet ready to answer so he gently told her that he would talk with her about that later. The grief counselor said that was completely fine. So, piece one: none of us have to force ourselves. We can gently delay answering questions at the times as needed. There will be more questions and more opportunities for those conversations.

The first night Twyla was home with us, when I was discharged from the hospital, she asked about Trolley trolley trolley again. I felt ready. I said that she has two brothers: Wes and Trus. Wes is who she always called "Barbara Price" in the womb and Trus is who she called "Trolley trolley trolley." I said Wes is here with us and will stay with us. Trus is with the angels and he'll stay with the angels. She has two brothers and will always have two brothers but one will be with us and one with the angels. She asked, "Why do you call him Trus?" And we said, "That's just what we named him."

And that was it for that round. She took it in and moved on.

We are buying books on grief and loss that are age appropriate. We put some on the baby registry just because that was the easiest place for me to organize things. We're going to start putting them on the shelves for her to pull out as she's ready. 

We are planning on a funeral for Trus. We're still putting moving parts together and also giving me some time to get my strength up. Our plan is to describe a funeral to Twyla in advance-- that it's a gathering where we're going to talk about Trus and sing and read passages. People might be dressed in darker colors and they'll likely be sad because they miss Trus. Because little kids think they're responsible for a lot, we'll emphasize that their sadness has nothing to do with her-- she brings joy. But people need places to cry and feel and that's OK too.

Once she has some idea of what to expect, we're going to assign her people for the funeral. We're going to give her the choice to go with them or not. Or, go with them and if she wants to leave, to leave and go play on the playground or do whatever feels right to her. They'll be with her so she is included but has control over how much she participates. I think we'll take the same approach on the burial, though I may ask the grief counselor about that as we haven't talked about it explicitly yet.

The grief counselor reminded us that kids just process and ask questions as they do and it often will probably seem out of the blue. And in general, I know it's best to only answer the question that Twyla asks rather than volunteering further information as that could overwhelm her. So I'm going to try to stay tuned into my own capacity. When it's too hard for me to answer, I might say something like, "I love your curious mind and I want to answer your question but I feel a little sad right now. It's not your fault. You make me happy. But because I'm sad I'm going to take a break from answering questions. I'll answer it another time though. You can always ask me. I'll always try to tell you and other times I'll take a break."

The grief counselor said that what we're doing too is modeling grief. As much as we want to shield our kids, life has heartbreak. Showing her how to care for ourselves and respect our own limits will give her a model to do the same as she encounters her own ruptures. 

I feel sorry that proximity to us is introducing these conversations to so many other families but I also know that we all know these things are beyond any of us individually. I hope this helps as you navigate this terrain and to those of you with relationships to Twyla, thank you for caring and getting on the same page with us.

A friend made these amazing stories with visuals

Funeral Story for friends & family

Funeral Story for Twyla

We welcome our sons

 We want to introduce both our sons with joy & celebration, but the reality is that we are currently living with wonder & grief.

Our son Wes Robertson Price was born Sunday July 17 at 8:10 pm into my arms at home in the bath tub. He weighed 8 lbs 6 oz & is thriving. All of the photos are of Wes.

At the recommendation of our care providers, we transferred to Norfolk General Hospital at 3 am on Monday July 18. On arrival, we learned that Truslow Byrnes Price, our second son, had passed very recently— within an hour or so. He entered the world through breech extraction. We don’t know cause of death but there are indications that he may have suffered a partial placental abruption. He was breech with a knee in my pelvis & there had been differing information & communication about his presentation. We don’t know if we’ll ever definitively learn cause of death.

Trus was 9 lbs 6 oz. His & Wes’ placentas together weighed about 3 lbs. A nurse said she had never seen healthier twins. They arrived at 42 weeks 5 days & 42 weeks 6 days gestation with two different birthdays.

Their pregnancy & birth were very hard on me. I developed Bell’s palsy 3 weeks ago & have been hospitalized since their birth with preeclampsia.

We are held in such a network of support thanks to our families & friends. Our parents have kept Twyla’s daily life as predictable as possible. Wes was never admitted to the hospital as he wasn’t born here so he’s been able to be with both family & me as we work to get my health sufficiently stable for discharge.

Today, Blessed Sacrament church (a church with much significance in Kevin’s family) held prayer intentions for Trus. We’re working on his funeral and burial and will communicate as we know more.

I’m trying to communicate but still working actively with my care team to stabilize. Messages of love are welcome but please know I might not be able to reply yet.

Kevin is not only holding my care but that of our kids, getting Wes’ birth certificate, insurance, & beginning pediatric care while handling Trus’ arrangements & still being sure to be present to Twyla. Please bear that in mind if you communicate with him. We’re so grateful for the support & will reply as we can.

When we have moments, we’re both writing. We’re piecing together what we know to have happened & what is still unknown.

The main thing we know is Twyla, Wes, & Trus are all our children. Please know that. We will always speak of them & hold them. Right now, we’re learning how to do that.

We know too that these experiences can break people but they can also be ways to deepen into life & humanity. Our kids need us so Kevin & I are working to heal individually while also knowing how much we need each other & love each other. I’m so grateful for Kevin & thankful that he’s my children’s father.

We have 3 children now: Twyla, Wes, & Trus. I am so grateful for each of them. They’re each so beautiful & I love them deeply. And I’m thankful to everyone holding us as we move through this intense passage.

(*we have a meal train but we’re not home yet so pause on that. We will communicate about support & thank you for all we’ve been given.)

Waiting

When I was pregnant with Twyla, I felt very clearly that she would arrive later than her estimated due date. As I explored averages I saw that most first time Moms birthed at 41 weeks and 1 day. I felt like she would probably even be closer to 42 weeks.

Because of that, when I got my due date I advocated with my practice to not intervene and let her bake. They put limits (based on agreements with insurance, not my health nor Twyla’s health– a bone I have to pick with prenatal care in the US) but I knew what it would look like to go beyond 40 weeks gestation with them. 

I was so certain that I also was able to prepare everyone around me. It felt like my first act of parenting: this wasn’t my birth, it was Twyla’s. She was coming later. She was going to use that time to bake and develop and my job as her mother was to safeguard it. Sure enough, 40 weeks came and went and I calmly went about my way.

Her pregnancy was really sweet. I could take walks. Kevin and I went out to eat. We read lots of books and put up last minute baby things. I struggled to sleep and had acid reflux, but nothing unbearable. 

My practice at that time couldn’t care for me beyond 42 weeks gestation (which I have so much to say about, but another time) meaning, if I got to 42 weeks I’d either have to induce with them, or take my chances at a random ER or free birthing at home. At 41 weeks, based on this knowledge, I agreed to a membrane sweep and Twyla was born the following day.

In this second pregnancy, I had a feeling the baby would come closer to the estimated due date. Didn’t feel late, didn’t feel early, but earlier than last time. 

Then, deep in the second trimester, we realized why all bets were off: there were two babies. We shifted all thinking to crash course in learning twins and also trying to gestate as long as possible given that so many twins are born premature and need time in the NICU. While I am so grateful for NICUs and the care that they provide early babies, my hope was to do whatever was in my power to keep my babies cooking and to not need NICU time.

We then learned about “wimpy white boy syndrome” where seriously, no joke, there are no studies but every NICU nurse, L&D nurse, midwife, and OB/GYN knows that white boys tend to struggle the most upon birth. They tend to lack muscle tone to nurse effectively and therefore gain weight. If it’s a white boy/girl twin the boy will usually need CPAP or NICU time to work on breathing. 

And I had two white boys cooking! 

So again, Kevin and I looked into best practices to prevent pre-term labor. Of course, no one can control all factors but things like Brewer’s Diet do seem to help get birth weights up, help mother’s sustain appropriate blood volume so they’re less susceptible to preeclampsia, maintain appropriate sugar levels to ward off gestational diabetes, and collagen and vitamin C seem to help amniotic sacks stay intact rather than prematurely rupture.

We did it. When I got tired, I listened to my body and sadly put my gym membership on hold. I started finding meetups for Twyla that didn’t involve walking as I could barely. My inlaws helped afternoons so I could take naps. I did whatever I could to keep my babies baking.

Our next goal was to hit 37 weeks. Again, 37 weekers are preterm and many struggle to eat, but at 37 weeks we would be safe enough to stay with our homebirth practice and birth at home. Given hospital twin birth policies (the writing of another post) this was another major goal for the health of the boys and me. 

Tentatively, 37 weeks came and went. I wanted to keep them cooking so they would enter the world ready for it, but at least I knew that I could now safely call my birth team when the time came. 

Finally, 39 weeks, on Kevin and Twyla’s birthday. A lot of money was put on that date. And that date being true full term, a big achievement with two babies. As there were no babies, we put together a last minute birthday party for Twyla and watched yet another milestone.

Now, the time we did not intend for. Kevin and I started to look up from all our preparing: me, trying to survive how physically demanding this pregnancy is and him, taking all the rest of the weight of Twyla, household chores, cooking, cleaning, etc. Neither of us thought that we would get this far! 

Now what.

Now, everyone texting.

“Babies here?”

Believe me, no one ever forgets to tell you that their baby has been born.

With Twyla, we turned off the outside world and went in. We waited with patience and trust.
With our boys, we couldn’t turn the world off. We needed the help we were gratefully receiving in the forms of childcare, meals dropped off, and other check ins. But that also meant everyone and their mother sharing their stories of inductions, C-sections, asking if we’d tried to self-induce.

So here’s the kind of crazy thing: that’s all really serious medical advice with big implications. And people pass it around casually, as though they know the implications or your medical history or the potential ramifications for your kids.

So it becomes yet another conversation to have for the umpteenth time:

Well, there are actually a lot of risks to medical induction. Among them, pitocin isn’t even approved for it though it’s used commonly. (https://www.hormonesmatter.com/the-rise-in-pitocin-induced-childbirth/) It would likely mean that I would need an epidural and given my health make up, that would likely plummet my blood pressure, which would put my babies in distress, and mean we would need a C-section. Which might otherwise be avoidable.

Well, if we can avoid it, we don’t want a C-section. I’m so grateful that these surgeries exist, but there are a number of reasons why if avoidable, it would be safer for me to birth vaginally. For one, C-section births lose almost double the blood of a vaginal birth. For someone like myself, hoping to nurse but also be healthy enough to keep up with 3 kids, it’s likely that I’ll recover more quickly from a vaginal birth.

Well, yes, some people do induce labor with castor oil. But for some, it just causes diarrhea and dehydration in the mother and for the baby to pass meconium and can put the baby in danger. So, it can be a dangerous gamble to take.

And yes, people do a thousand other things to induce labor. They pump, walk on curbs, eat pineapple and spicy food, etc. None of these methods are guaranteed. No one knows exactly why labor is triggered. 

Another favorite: “they let you…” go this long with twins. Yes. As a grown ass woman, I chose providers who know they are supporting and guiding my health and the birth of my babies. So I am treated with respect and give consent. And, like a criminal, I’m walking around beyond 40 weeks pregnant with my own twin boys. They let me. No one has arrested me yet LOL. Even though most mainstream providers induce twin pregnancies earlier, I found providers who trust birth and have experience supporting full term twin pregnancies.

It makes me feel like I’m consistently defending my choices. Choices that Kevin and I agonized over. Researched. Discussed endlessly with healthcare professionals and our chosen healthcare providers. Choices that we have given tremendous thought to. All casually dismissed with, “well, why don’t you…?”

What no one says is, I’m with you. Waiting. Patiently.

Waiting is hard.

And it has value.

If I list the innumerable symptoms I live with the answer is, well, just go get an induction. But a year from now, I might still live with trauma from a failed induction versus a distant memory of a few full days of waiting. Why not wait? 

I’m healthy. My babies are healthy. The more time that I give them in the womb, the more opportunities they have to form neural networks and develop their lungs and put on fat and ready for the world. I’ve been checked up and down. We even had to go to the hospital this past week for a check and doctors who believe that all twin pregnancies should be birthed no later than 38 weeks couldn’t find any medical reason to urge induction or surgical birth.
So why not wait?

It’s the only practice that seems to have lost its place in the realm of birth. Waiting. Waiting for babies to be ready. For them to trigger labor. Waiting, in the fullness, the discomfort, the all of it. Waiting, as I am, in frustration. I watch the days tick by and know this is all the sooner than Kevin has to go to work and all the earlier that I lose help.

And I know those are some valid reasons why people induce. There are medical reasons, psychological, and also so that people can have preferred providers or help. There are good reasons to induce and I don’t fault anyone else their decision.

But there’s also reason to wait.

Kevin and I keep talking about other hard tasks. Right now, a triathlon doesn’t seem as hard. I could duck out of it if I wanted to. And people wait for those. They mentally steel themselves. I guess the difference is that you know a horn will blare and the race will begin. In this instance, I have to trust.

But just the same as Twyla, I feel like this is the job of a parent. If there were medical reason, I would listen to my providers and act to birth my babies however we needed to. Given that we are all healthy, I’m guarding their ability to determine their own birth. Kevin and I have done everything that we can to ensure that it will be as healthy and peaceful as we can make it. While these days tick by agonizingly slowly, next year we’ll look back with gratitude. Our summer boys. Who were allowed to enter the world without force, with trust, and with the time that they needed.