day in the life.... (part 2)

I give Ben an apple and load him and the twins into the car, grab my phone and keys and lock the door. We drive into town and drop J at work, stop at waitrose on the way back for 12 litres of baby milk and 4 of cows' milk.
Get home, bathe the babies, dress them, feed them again, load the dishwasher and head back into town to the GP's surgery. The twins are 16 weeks old and it's vaccination day today.
Ben frets in the car "I don't want the babies to be hurt, I don't want them to have jabs in them".
I call J and arrange that he'll take an early lunch and come with us so we swing by his office and then on to the surgery.
Ben, once we've told him that jabs give you super human bug fighting powers*, is fine.
6 needles and 2 screaming babies later we head into the centre of town to have lunch in a cafe, a treat for Ben for being good at the doctors', both babies feed again and then snooze.
From lunch we go to school, the need to arrive early and get a parking space amplified by the knowledge that I have a space ship to cart up to the car.

Everyone is very well behaved on the walk from school to car. But just as I'm loading them, C, the extra one, says in a quiet voice "I've got another nosebleed". Poor lamb, she's had then a lot recently. This one isn't too bad as they go but it still takes nearly 10 minutes, and 2 muslin cloths stained bright red to stem the flow.

I drop her at home and then take the boys back. The twins are screaming by now and need feeding again....




*"And insects mummy?"

A day in the life... (part one)

Light streams through the too pale curtains and we stir. J barely registers it, I close my eyes again and roll over, Ben though, lying between us, yawns, stretches and is awake in a heartbeat.
"Mummy I want breakfast".
I glance across at the cot where the actual babies are sleeping peacefully, and try the human equivalent of the snooze button: "Come and give mummy a cuddle, we'll get breakfast in a minute".
Like a snooze button this holds him for about 180 seconds before he starts again, more insistent.
J groans and rolls over.
I convince Ben to be quiet and take him downstairs.
Put the kettle on, register Sam already awake and watching the semi-banned Cartoon Network.
Empty the dishwasher, put bowls on the table and tea in the pot.
Make up packed lunches.
Call children to breakfast, Josiah has joined them in the sitting room.
Ben wants me to guess what he wants for breakfast, I am in no mood for quizzes.
Josiah decides quickly "Weetabix" but when I put them into the bowl and reach for the milk, shouts "No, I don't want weetabix, cheerios. No, shreddies"
Sam finally makes it to the table, I ask six times what he'd like "What is there?". I offer him the choice of cereals, or toast, or a sandwich as I do every morning, the same list, every day.
I ask again what he wants, at the 3rd time of asking he finally responds "I'm deciding!"
"Right!" I say "We don't have time for this, shreddies"
"No! Cheerios. no milk"
"Mummy this isn't my favourite spoon" says Josiah, I find his favourite, it really is much faster than trying to make him accept another, on a school day.
"Ben, where are you going?"
"I need a wee" - what is it with my family, all of them, the moment you put food on the table. "I need a wee now!"
"Well go then" his eye is caught by a toy and he stops to play "GO!"
I pour tea, make up bottles "Ben, are you done?"
"No mummy I'm in the sitting room"
"Why are you in the sitting room?"
"Because the light isn't on in the loo room"
"Well turn it on"
"I can't reach" (He can)
"Yes you can"
"Only on tiptoes"
"Well tiptoe"
"You do it mummy"
"No, Ben hurry up."
I give in and turn it on as I run upstairs with J's tea. He's in the shower.
I gather uniforms into piles and run back down.
"Ben are you done in the loo"
"Yes mummy"
"Did you flush it?"
"Yes. and washed my hands, but now my breakfast is all soggy"
I pour more cereal into another bowl and sip my own tea, chivvy the boys to eat breakfast and send them upstairs for teeth cleaning and washing.
Finally I run back up myself, J is changing one of the twins. I dive in the shower, get dressed and then change the other. Run to the top floor to make sure the boys are dressed, referee an argument about which of two identical toys belongs to which of two irate boys.
Carry the baby downstairs feed him, while J feeds his twin, nag the boys into their shoes and jackets. Fill out reading records and check book bags for missed notes.
"I need my swimming kit mummy"
"No Sam, no swimming today, there was a note"
"That was when it was sportsday today, but it isn't now because of the mud"
One of his armbands is missing. I find another but it's too small, and another, also too small, finally another, mismatched but fitting.
"And I'm Wanachi, so I can take toys"
Argh! The blasted Wanachi thing! I get it, really I do, it's great that each week one of them gets to be class monitor, to sit in a special chair, choose stories and activities and, on a Friday, take toys in to show and tell. But no one thinks of the mother (or this one at least) who will, on the way home, have 4* children walking, one double buggy with twins in, 3 book bags, 3 lunch bags, 2 swimming kit bags, 1 PE kit bag, assorted works of "art", 2 junk models, a broad bean plant in a pot and now the damn Millenium Falcon to marshall up the hill to the car.
We negotiate terms and he agrees he'll carry the toy bag.
Sarah arrives and sweeps the two big ones into her car.
I put the kettle back on. It's 8.30am.
"Mummy is it snack time, I'm hungry"....



*I haven't mis counted, I bring my friend's lovely and genuinely no trouble at all, ever, daughter home after school and in return she gets my two monsters in on time in the mornings.

Time for a clear out...

18 months ago I called for a "Big de-clutter week" and lots of friends, both flesh and blood and those who live only in my computer, joined me and we spent 7 days banishing cobwebs, mess and the accumulated "stuff" that was threatening to suffocate us.
And I think it's time we did it again.
My house is a pit so I'll start on the basics this week, but more than that I want it decluttered and organised for the summer and the new term. I'd like to come back from holiday to a fresh start where we can lay down new "rules" for the children with the framework already in place - "shoes in x basket as soon as you are through the door", kind of thing- I also need to go through all their clothes and work out what we need for Autumn/ Winter as we'll be buying over the summer an I don't want to get stuff we don't need or miss stuff we do, tbh, I could do with doing this for J and I too.
And that's just the start of it. I need to reclaim the kitchen from the creeping clutter and make the understairs cupboard a useful space.

So, are you in? We've got 3 weeks to the end of term? Make plans and prepare this week? (For me this will include the regular/ irregular in this house  getting on top of housework.
Clear the clutter next week?
Set up the new regime in week 3?

Are you with me? Are you with me? (aye aye Birdsnest!  )


My garden may need some tidying too, I can see my neighbour weeding hers and every now and then she lobs one over the wall....

Feel like I need a note from my mum....

Dear Reader,
Tilly has been neglecting you shamefully.
She promises to do better...
Love
Tilly's mum.


Where was I? I'm going to have to do a very quick catch up...

We were in hospital for 5 days.
Night 2 was hard. Neither baby would settle at all. I was exhausted, I felt like there was no one to help and that I'd really be better off at home where at least there'd be two of us.
The twins fed constantly but not terribly successfully, at least in Alex's case.
The midwives said he was hungry, they took him for a little while and then suggested giving him formula.
Now I've nothing against formula and I was fairly sure we'd end up using it as part of the feeding process at some point, but not at 30 hours old, when it's perfectly normal for milk not to be "in" yet until 3 or 4 days post birth.
I took him back from them and went back to the constant feeding. I knew I might have to give in at some point, I'd been told that a c-section could mean that full milk production could be delayed.
I fed Alex and Toby through the night, all night, and at around 36 hours old I noticed a change, they settled and slept. The constant feeding had brought the milk within 36 hours.

My iron level coming out of theatre had been 7. something, very low but not a significant drop. They decided to hold off on the transfusion.

On day 4 I felt ready to go home, the older children had been ill but were getting better. I felt ok and was getting bored, Mum was due to head back to the UK and J was exhausted with running around after everyone and trying to spend as much time as possible at the hospital.
The consultant was happy that I was doing fine but decided they needed to check my iron was rising first. I was sure it must be, I was taking 3 iron tablets a day, and drinking spatone, and no longer had two parasites leeching away all the good stuff.
It had dropped. I needed the transfusion.
They decided to give me three units of blood the next day, one it was in I would be able to go home.
The next day I had breakfast, and they got me ready for the drips etc at around 8am. Each unit would take around 3 hours to go in so I hoped to be going home by tea time.
What a frustrating day that was. I waited and waited lunchtime came and went without the blood arriving. I couldn't see any way I was going home. J was feeling poorly and suggested I wait another day or two but I was psyched up to be at home so when the blood arrived with a plan to pump the first unit over 3 hours and then the other 2 over 2 hours each I grabbed it although it was already 2pm and I wouldn't be done til around 9.
To my shame I brushed off J's concerns.
Blood feels strange going in, it's icy cold, straight from a fridge and hurts at first. As it comes up to room temperature over the hours it takes to go in you cease to notice it, but then that unit is done and a new one it put up, icy cold again.
I was still wearing the hated surgical stockings and having daily injections to prevent clots.
At 9.30 we were done and got ready to go home. J again tried to persuade me that I should stay another night, he looked exhausted and said he was feeling ill.
I'm stubborn though, and we got home at around 10.30.
J and the boys had decorated the house with flowers, banners and balloons.
He hadn't made our bed though which he'd stripped to wash the bedding and I was cross.

By next morning it was obvious in retrospect that J was poorly. He felt fluey and headachy.
By Monday his face was looking slightly swollen, I told him to make a doctor's appointment but he refused. He'd do it next day if he didn't feel better.
On Tuesday I made the appointment while he slept, his face was very swollen, something was obviously wrong, Sam and Josiah, who'd been better enough to return to school on the Monday, clearly weren't up to it on the Tuesday and stayed home.
He drove in for the appointment, I sat at home and waited for him to come back. Then he phoned, the GP was sending him to the hospital, it looked like he'd be admitted for IV antibiotics...
When the consultant saw him she confirmed th GP's diagnosis, J had erisipelas, a potentially deadly strep infection he was going nowhere but a hospital bed.

I was home with 2 nine day old babies, 3 children, one poorly, one shattered and in a post viral grump and one ridiculously energetic and a 75 year old who had reached her limits.

But hey, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right?

The Main Event... (Part Two)

I was warned that the big light above our heads could act like a mirror and that we might not want to look at it.
Of course, there's only one reaction to that...
It's not clear like a mirror though, there are ridged circles decreasing in size toward the centre and all you really see is colour as if in a kaleidescope, the blue of the scrubs, the green of the surgical sheets, flashes of silver and yes, the red and purple of blood, but it's a mixed and mingled pattern, not a clear impression.
J had his camera and I asked him to take a photo but his view and mine were not the same - either that or devoid of drugs it just doesn't look the same at all!
I heard the pop of the first membrane sac, the suction as the fluid was drained and then the first baby was drawn out, breech, entering the world bottom first and squealing.
They showed him to me above the screen and then Teresa, one of the midwives carried him to a resusitaire to be checked and wrapped.
I heard the second sac suctioned, over the screams of twin one. Then I heard the consultant say "Oh that's a foot, and here's the other!"
Twin two entered the world feet first and sooo angry. It must be an even more surreal experience for the babies, there's no build up at all, one minute they are happily floating around in a very small, warm, mostly dark, muffled place and the next they are dragged into the bright light of an operating theatre, with it's noise and bustle and the space to move and stretch and be terrified of. Twin two was not happy about it, not one little bit and was determined we should know all about it!
He was lifted over the drapes, and then again hurried off by a midwife - Sorcha - who gave him his first cuddle and attached 2 clips to his cord, for twin two, so that there could be no confusion.

J was told he could go to see the babies, and take pictures.
The consultant confirmed that we still wanted him to go ahead and tie my tubes,  and while he removed the placentas (which the midwife confirmed were intact), did that and sewed me back up J brought the twins over to see me.

It seemed to take a surprisingly short time, and then we were wheeled back out into recovery.
We started skin to skin there, and after about half an hour, maybe more, we were wheeled back up to the maternity ward.
Cuddled under my blankets with me were one little read-headed boy, and his white-blond twin, and by now, or soon after, they were Tobias and Alexander.
Toby and Alex, the latest two members of our family.

Back on the ward they were weighed and measured.
Toby tipped the scales at 6lbs 7 and Alex at 6 lbs. good weights for 37 week babies, even if there hadn't been two of them.

I'll write more about the first hours and days, (and what happened next) later on...

The Main Event... (Part One)

There's something very strange about Elective Caesarian, you get up knowing that by the end of today there will be a baby in your arms, but you have no contractions, no twinges, just this knowledge.

I was nil by mouth from ten the night before, and getting up and getting the boys dressed and breakfasted while feeling hungry and nervous was a bit wobbly.

Once they were ready and waiting for their lift to school J, Ben and I climbed into the car and drove to the hospital. We'd decided to take Ben along at this point because I needed to be at the hospital for 8am, but the section was unlikely to take pace until about 11.30 so the plan was that Ben would take me to the hospital, and leave me there, (he's much happier to leave me than to be left behind). J would drive him home, spend a bit of time with him and then come back in time for surgery.

We stopped in the car park at the hospital and J took a couple of final "bump shots"of me and the bump and Ben.
The we walked up to the ward. I was checked in, and the blood pressure tests etc started. Almost immediately we were told it was more likely to be 10.30 when I was taken to theatre, as there had been a couple of cancellations from the list.
J set off to take Ben home and come straight back. Meanwhile I changed into a gown, confirmed I had taken the Ranitidine the night before and that morning.
I was provided with surgical stockings, that were to be the bane of my life for the next few days, and shaved along and just below the bikini line.

J came back and we waited... They gave him a form to sign which told him what he was and wasn't allowed to do in theatre - basically, sit where you are told until told you can move!
Then they said they were nearly ready for me and took J off to change into scrubs.

While he was gone they came to take me down, I was given something else to take - another antacid I think - and then the bed and I were wheeled down to theatre.
There's a lot of checking of name labels and notes and so on, at this point, checking that they have the right person.
And then they transfer you to a trolley, and wheel you into anaesthetics.

I'd met the anaesthetist before and been talked through the process but again it's quite surreal.
There's a commonly held idea that all labouring women love their anaesthetists, that they are adored because they come bearing pain relief. But when you aren't actually in labour and have no pain, they simply inflict it.
I had 2 cannulas sited, one in each inner arm. Then the spinal. If you're not in labour and desperate for it there's no denying this is uncomfortable at best.
Anyway it was in. They lay me back down and it took effect.
They gave me an oxygen mask and there were a few moments' peace.

Then came the worst bit.
They wheeled me into the theatre and transferred me to the operating table/ bed. My blood pressure plummeted, I think this is quite normal, but I hadn't expected it. The room spun, I felt sick, I dragged the mask off, my whole body went into panic mode.
If I could have articulated the words "I can't do this, put me under" I would have done so.

Quickly the anaesthetist gave me something to bring my pressure back up and the world came back into focus, J joined me, I could do this after all.

"Are you ready to meet your babies?" asked the consultant.
J took my hand, "Yes" we said together....

Birth story is coming...

As soon as I've typed it out!
Sorry for a silent 2 weeks...

In brief: I had the twins, was in hospital best part of a week, had a blood transfusion, came home, husband got ill, sent him to doctor, doctor sent him to the hospital, hospital admitted him with serious infection.
He spent 3 days on an IV.
He's home, things are settling down...

And counting down...

It's 5 am, or thereabouts. I need to be at the hospital in three hours to start the end stage of this whole process.
So I'm thinking about the last nine months  of baby preparations rather than dwell on the idea of an operation and blood transfusions etc.

9 months ago was July, my birthday, and we went out for a wonderful meal. It was that weekend that these two monkeys must have been conceived...
Soon afterward the school term ended and I headed back to the UK with the children, sometimes with J and sometimes just the me and the boys. It was a very busy time and I was shattered as I worked to sort out the UK house for the holiday rental market while also trying to give the boys a fun summer holiday, see family etc.
J's birthday falls in early August and with the boys and I in the UK and him in Guernsey he took a day off to make a long weekend and flew over to join us. August or not, the fog caused issues with flights that weekend too and he had to waste his day off sitting at the airport waiting for a plane.

We had a fun weekend and he headed back. Originally I'd been heading back too, but there was a lot of work to do so we decided the boys and I'd stay another week and he'd come back to collect us, flying into Gatwick where his dad would collect him and come to help for the weekend.

Between the 6th and 10th of August 2012 a madness descended on certain parts of the UK and I sat up late watching the footage as London burned.
Even that didn't explain my tiredness but I'd been so busy that I'd not realised that I'd missed a period. In my head I'd always know that I was due on my return journey to the island. But of course I'd delayed my return, and not thought about it.
Even when a friend of mine, Lynda, suggested that the exhaustion and nausea might be symptomatic of pregnancy I laughed it off. Yes, it was possible, but we'd been apart for the best part of a month, we'd only seen each other the weekend before, far too soon for hormones to have kicked in.
I'd missed completely the fact that actually I was already 2 weeks late...

I was cleaning when it dawned on me. J was due to arrive that evening, with his dad.
I bought  a test kit and waited for him, but I'd done the maths, checked my diary and was pretty sure. We were having another baby, after all the discussing and debating and planning, number four as almost certainly on his or her way.

J "does numbers" like I do words. He'd come to the same conclusion days before but wanted us to be together when we found out so had said nothing. We snatched a few minutes alone to each reveal our theory on my health.
Next morning I took the test kit to the loo and brought it back to bed, handing it to J to be checked as I had first time around. Sure enough, within seconds the words flashed up: "Pregnant 2-3 weeks".

We came back to Guernsey and I was about 9 weeks when I saw the GP, who was annoyed that I had waited so long to get into the system, but at least by that time we had got our heads round the fact that we were going to be the parents of a family of four.

And three weeks later we had that fateful scan, when we discovered that in future we'd need ALL the fingers of a hand to count our children.

And now it's 5.30am, on what will be their birthday, and life will never be the same again.

Any requests?

Apparently I can choose the music I want the babies to be born to, a playlist for theatre.
So what would you choose?

Sentimental?
Paul Anka - Having my Baby...
The Beatles - Here Comes the Sun...

Inspirational?
Leann Rimes - I hope You'll Dance

Funny?
The Verve - The Drugs don't work
Pink - I'm coming out So You'd better get this party started...


So, tell me, what should be on the playlist?

The Arse?

A midwife I know tells me that no one has their baby until they first experience "The Arse".

This is that irrational unreasonableness that descends like a red mist over the heavily pregnant woman, sending her into frenzies of cleaning and demanding that "someone paint the spare room window frames NOW!" Because this baby cannot possibly be born until it has been done.
"The Arse" is that point at which you would cheerfully perform your own caesarian section with a wooden spoon from the baking drawer in the kitchen.

I'm not sure I'm quite there yet, but I'm pretty fed up. Insomnia is a killer - especially with a HB of 7.7, or lower. I can't get comfortable and I have had enough.

On happier notes, the car is back, at huge cost :weep: though the guy at the garage tried to make me feel better by cataloging the list of complaints the OTHER Alhambra in this week had had, and how much that would have cost to fix - it was older than mine, remind me to sell mine in about 4.5 years....

J's dad came through surgery and has been sent "home", well to J's sister's, this weekend as there's a vomiting bug on the ward so I think they wanted as many people as could go, gone.

I made 3 dozen cupcakes tonight for a Scouts cake sale tomorrow. The boys have football in the morning, and then I have to shop and meal plan for next week, when I'll be a bit busy...

Hard times...

Yesterday my car died on me, it was fine, absolutely fine to drive to the hospital for my midwife appointment and back, and then to Waitrose and back. I unloaded the shopping and made up a picnic intending to take mum and Ben and meet J for lunch by the sea. We got into the car. I started the engine.
It chugged and died, I tried again, same thing and a warning "Emissions Workshop!"
I called J, then the AA, then a local SEAT garage.
The AA came and took it away.
I'm waiting to hear what it will cost to repair, it won't be pretty...

Meanwhile FIL is in Harefield Hospital and very ill.

There have been days of waiting for results etc but we're beginning to get a clearer picture. His heart's in a bad way. They can't do a bypass as there is too much dead tissue already. So tomorrow they'll operate to put in 3 stents, as a "holding measure". 

J can't get there, even if I weren't about to have the twins, the airport is fog bound. And anyway, things get worse...

I had a phone call last night to tell me that an old friend from Salisbury had died. 

Dene was only 51, and had everything to live for, great children, a wonderful wife, a community who adored him and lovely faith in God.  He died suddenly on Sunday morning and the world will be a poorer place without him. My world certainly will, and that of the twins, as we would have asked him to be their Godfather. I'm so thankful that he and Bev, his wife, came to stay with us last summer and the children got to know him. He was a Group Scout leader and had led the cubs along with Bev while I was a youth worker in Salisbury.  He will be so missed and so many lives were the richer for knowing him, young men and women the country over owe him a debt for the things he taught them and inspired them to do.

And then this morning I've had an anaesthetist appointment, and as ever I'm not straightforward.  My iron levels have now dropped to 7.7, I will need a transfusion. In fact they're talking about giving me 2 units on Friday, to give it chance to oxygenate before the caesarian, and then more during the op itself.

It never rains but it pours eh?

Stable...

J's dad seems stable.
Thought you'd want to know, it's not yet clear whether he had a heart attack, or just heart attack like symptoms.
What we do know is that he has fluid around his heart and his kidneys aren't working properly. Either problem could have caused the other.
We should know more when they can get enough of the fluid off to be able to do the angiogram and if necessary angioplasty.

For now, J is staying here with me, mum arrives tonight too. Then I guess the babies can come when they're ready...

While we wait for news I thought I'd share this with you

Below is a message I had from someone who had read my c-section fretting. I found it really pretty reassuring so thought I'd share. Not least because sharing my fears might have added fears for others if you see what I mean...




Hi!

I hope you dont mind me messaging you, I had a planned c-section last Friday and just wanted to reassure you really that its not as bad as you think itll be.

I was super nervous before hand but its been a really positive experience, were now home and Im well on the way to recovery.

Things I would say are I definatly agree with the big pants, they need to come up to your waist so that you have nothing on the wound, also I've just stuck to wearing my leggings and maternity track suit bottoms for now as its good to be comfy.

I wore a nighty the first night but as soon as the catheter was out on Saturday morning I was able to put some loose PJ bottoms on, then got dressed properly on Sunday.

Please please dont worry about the catheter, do you know it was so nice not having to get up and down to the loo like Ive had to for the last few months, I almost didnt want them to take it out! They fitted it once the spinal was in so didnt feel a thing and took it out on Saturday morning. Unfortunately you have to have one as they measure your urine output from it.

Drink loads of water while you are in hospital as if you dont wee enough they will put it back in!!

It was such a relaxed operation, I promise its a breeze. The day after I wont lie, I was in a lot of pain, but they got on top of it and I just chilled. I woke up on Sunday and felt sooo much better, just remember the next day will always be better than today until you feel normal again! Press your buzzer and ask for help, they dont mind and thats what they are there for. I needed them to pass me the baby as I couldnt lean into his cot and they were fine, they also did his nappies the first night for me. I was most scared about having the spinal but as soon as that was in I didnt feel a thing, they let me choose the music, everyone was relaxed and chatty and within 1/2 hour I had my baby!

All in all, Id take the planned section over labour and birth everytime now (not that I'm having any more!).

We came home yesterday and I've been pottering, I've rested too but having Sophia (17 months) its quite hard to just sit but its been nice doing a few things with her. Im much more mobile than I thought I'd be which is great! Midwife came today so suggested having baths to keep the scar clean so Im off there now!

Please try not to worry, you'll be so well looked after xxxx

And I thought I had reason to moan...

I wrote the previous blog post, had a long chat with my parents on the phone telling them all about parents' evening, asking mum to bring me big "tummy warmer" knickers from Asda when she comes to stay (apparently these are essential post section) etc.
And put the phone down, two minutes later it rang again, it was a mobile number which I thought odd.
I answered, and it was J's sister "Oh Hi!" I said "How are you?"
"Not good actually, is J there?"
It looks like his dad's had a heart attack, another. He barely survived the last one, before I met J.
And this time we're here and I am about to have twins.
We're just waiting to hear what the assessment suggests is going on.
And J will have to decide whether to leave me here and go, or not go. No airline would let me fly. No GP would consent.

Bugger.

Whinge, whinge, moan, moan... and a yay!

I do not want a caesarian.
There is no part of me that is able to think of this as a good thing - well other than the obvious risks of having a transverse baby.
I do not want a catheter, I really, really don't.
Breastfeeding is tough in the early days, it'll be tougher with twins, tougher with 37 weekers and apparently tougher following a caesarian section. Plus presumably they'll be a bit lighter than average, so a small weight loss with be a bigger %age of body weight and therefore a bigger issue.
And then there's the operation itself, and the recovery.
And did I say, "I don't want a catheter"?

I feel like a spoilt teenager, but I don't want this and I don't know how to get past it. And I have to because Twin One is bobbing between breech and transverse and that doesn't make for a safe vaginal delivery.

Tell me to pull myself together!!!

Friends continue to be fabulous!

Meanwhile, tonight was parents' evening at the boys school. When we made the appointments we really weren't at all sure I'd make it, but we did and I'm so glad.
Both boys are doing extremely well at school - I'm glowing with Pride. I'm almost ashamed to write it. Of Josiah the teacher said "Oh I just love him!"
He's friends with everyone, and always willing. He's ahead of all his targets and racing forward, he's confident to speak in front of groups and enthusiastic to share his thoughts. And you'd never know he's among the youngest in the year group.
Of Sam we heard that he's top of the year for reading, that with some concentration on punctuation he'll be top for writing, he's ahead on maths and science. He has nothing to do with silliness in the classroom but is always up for fun in the playground. He's focussed and never needs calling back to the task, his teacher can leave him to get on and be confident that he will do just that.
What paragons of virtue! Of course they're barely recognisable as the children we know at home. But I'd rather it was that way round!

So, I know the latest they'll be born...

I saw the consultant today.
I have a date for a caesarian section to deliver the twins. Eeek!
They could come sooner of course, either if they decide to make a swift exit, or if I decide I've really had enough, and believe me there have been many days in the last week where I was ready,  but the longer they're "in" and feeding and breathing, and keeping warm are all taken care of the better.

Still I now know they'll be here by X date...

Progress...

Hall:

• White shelf unit move to the family room
• Clear and move bookcase to bottom of the stairs
• stuff from shelves to eaves

Kitchen:

• Clear surfaces
• Clear Fridge top - Goodness knows where to...
• Sort baking crates
• Clear white shelf tops

Sitting Room:

• Move Desk up to landing
• Clear and re-organise bookcases
• Clear clutter from behind door
• Hang pictures
• Boxes to eaves storage

Family Room

• Move pine trofast to boys' rooms
• build castle n train table
• Clear sideboard
• Clear windowsills

Landing

• Laundry bags away
• Move white chest of drawers
• Set up desk
• Put away washing

Our Room

• Move wooden chest of drawers
• Move in white chest of drawers
• Move washing basket

Boys' rooms

• Clothes away
• Pine trofast in

Spare room

• Washing away
• Bookcase move to landing
• Build cot 2

Things to do...

Someone suggested that as Im frustrated by the enforced sitting on the sofa, I should use my time writing lists of things to do - particularly things for J to do...

So I started, and I have 8 pages of A4...

I've just written an abbreviated list of stuff J has to do before he's allowed to watch the rugby tomorrow. He laughed when I read it to him, he'll learn....



Things to Move and Organise...

Hall:

• White shelf unit move to the family room
• Clear and move bookcase to bottom of the stairs
• stuff from shelves to eaves

Kitchen:

• Clear surfaces
• Clear Fridge top - Goodness knows where to...
• Sort baking crates
• Clear white shelf tops

Sitting Room:

• Move Desk up to landing
• Clear and re-organise bookcases
• Clear clutter from behind door
• Hang pictures
• Boxes to eaves storage

Family Room

• Move pine trofast to boys' rooms
• build castle n train table
• Clear sideboard
• Clear windowsills

Landing

• Laundry bags away
• Move white chest of drawers
• Set up desk
• Put away washing

Our Room

• Move wooden chest of drawers
• Move in white chest of drawers
• Move washing basket

Boys' rooms

• Clothes away
• Pine trofast in

Spare room

• Washing away
• Bookcase move to landing
• Build cot 2

What time is the rugby on?

Choosing a birthday

We went along to my consultant appointment anticipating a conversation about booking an elective caesarian section for around 37 weeks.
Twin 1 is currently transverse, and if that situation continues then there really isn't any option. A planned c- section is without doubt the best way to bring them into the world in that situation.
We weren't expecting to simply be asked "well after next week [35 weeks] when do you want to have them?"

The problem you see is that my last 2 labours were what they call "extreme precipitate" once things got moving properly the babies were in a hurry and arrived in under 2 hours.

So if my waters break or I start to go into labour, with twin one transverse then they are going to have to move very quickly to avoid cord prolapse etc.

Thing is, if it happens at night then realistically it's going to take an hour to an hour and a half to get me into theatre, by the time they've assembled teams etc.
So we're left with a near impossible risk calculation to do.
We're weighing up the dangers to the twins of being born early but in a controlled situation.
Against the benefits of reaching full term, but risking a passage perilous into the outside world.
And somehow we have to decide what's best.

My previous pregnancies having all reached 41 weeks (or almost) is reassuring, but equally my body decided it was time to evict each of those three as their weight hit the 7lb 13 mark, and the combined weight of the twins is considerably higher than that already.

Anyway, they can't come yet, the house is a mess!

I've been in hospital...

Sorry for not updating.
We've had a bit of a week of it.
Father in law left on Friday and the weekend was a whirl of social engagements. Mostly for the children! When did my diary stop being a neatly written reminder,  full of drinks parties and dinners out and become a scrawled mass of playdates and "Jungle House" invitations etc?
Saturday was football for Sam and Josiah joined him for the first time - I am proud mummy of both the "Player of the Week" - Sam - and the "Best Debut Player" - Josiah.
It threw it down part way through but the boys played on.
After lunch Josiah had a party to go to so I released Ben into the soft play centre and J played mini golf with Sam.
Sunday was Sam's day for parties and we took Josiah and Ben to try the mini-golf which they loved.

Back to school on Monday and a welter of PE kits and book bags, returning notes etc. There was a space available to park so J took them in while I waited in the car.
I had some pain at the top of my bump but it felt muscular or positional rather than anything else. Still at J's insistence I phoned the midwives who gave me some advice on relaxing anything that had been pulled - paracetamol and warm bath mainly.
It worked and all seemed well.

I got up on Tuesday feeling tired but physically better. We chased the boys into uniforms and sorted packed lunches. As I strapped them into the car though I had a contraction. Not a mild one, full on agony. All down one side of the bump and around the bottom.
They continued throughout the drive. At school there was no where to park so though I could really have done with staying put I walked them into school. It takes a few minutes but in that time 3 teachers stopped me to ask if I was ok. I clearly wasn't.
I got to the car and J drove straight to the hospital. We didn't stop to phone. My notes were in the car but I couldn't phone, the contractions were agony, one on top of another.
The ported wheeled me from reception to the maternity ward. J bringing Ben.
On the ward the midwife said "you're in labour aren't you?"
"I don't know" I gasped.
"I think I do" she replied and told the porter to wheel me straight into delivery.

They set me up on the monitors instantly, as soon as I lay down the contractions eased a little but the toco showed them strong and clear all the same.

Phoning the on-call ob-gyn consultant she told him what she was seeing and thinking and about my two most recent very fast deliveries.
He said he was on his way but told her to waste no time and give me the first of the two steroid injections I would need to mature the twins' lungs for an early delivery. And to get set up to give me the necessary drugs to try to stop the contractions.

J rang my friend Sam who said she was on her way to the park with her son and mindee and would swing by the hospital to collect Ben and take him along too and then keep him as long as we needed.

J took him down and I had the first steroid jab. The consultant arrived to examine me take swabs to check no infection was causing early labour, scan for positions etc.

The good news was that my cervix was closed - phew!
The scan showed that twin one had moved quite dramatically in a few days, possibly all that morning, causing my uterus to start contracting. Unhelpfully though, he'd gone from breech with his head on my right side, to transverse with his head on my left.
If this was going to be labour and delivery it was going to be a c-section. They warned the theatre.

They put a cannula in, I'm very hard to cannulate so this took some time and they ended up using the tiniest one they had and then got the drip started.
They kept me on the delivery suite until they contractions had subsided to less than three in every ten minutes which took a couple of hours, though well before then they were far less intense and then took theatre of standby though they continued to prepare scbu.
Then they moved me to the ward and J collected my hospital bags from home.

Sarah and Sam between them took care of the boys until school pick up time and J popped into work and then collected them, he fed them and then Sarah and Sam came back to put them to bed while he came back in to see me.

Embarrassingly, just as a road accident is certain to happen when you are wearing your oldest knickers, this happened when my house was the messiest it has ever been! We've been reorganising the children's bedrooms and the family room, and I've been having tot take it a bit easy so other, normal, housework has taken a nose dive.

And my two friends with lovely clean organised houses were now in mine!


They were wonderful those two, they tidied up a bit and got the children to bed. Next morning Sarah dropped the big two at school and then had Ben for the morning before dropping him off at Sam's.
The doctors let me out at lunchtime, when I'd had 24 hours on the drip and a few off it and the contractions had been settled for a while and I'd had 2 steroid doses.

J brought Ben back at about 3.

Mel, another friend, collected Samuel and Josiah from school and took them to her house for tea with her son, Sam's best friend. J collected them at around 6 and we got them to bed. Everyone was exhausted!

This morning Sarah arrived to take the boys to school and Sam a bit later to take Ben to charge about at soft play.
They have put their foot down those two and insisted on coming in to clean and organise next week while I keep my feet up.

Honestly, friends, what would we do without them?

The best things...

I got back from the scan surprisingly upbeat, as I said and picked up a card from the postman, he'd tried to deliver 2 'packages' the day before and they were waiting for me at the post office.
Having loaded children and granddad/ father in law into the car we headed off to get football boots and shin pads for the middle child, who is going to start playing football with his big brother's squad on Saturday.
On the way we stopped at the post office to collect what I imagined would be two jiffy bags containing 4 hand knitted baby cardigans and 6 sleepsuits from my mum who'd said she'd picked some up in Asda.
So imagine my surprise when I found 2 big boxes waiting for me...

I "met" Rebecca on line 7 years ago. We were both planning our weddings, mine at the end of 2004, hers at the start of '05.
I remember liking her right from the start.
Weddings over she returned from her honeymoon expecting her daughter and I found out Sam was on the way almost straight afterward, so Sam and F are very close in age.
Then, soon after I found out I was pregnant with Josiah, she too found she was expecting again. And her son was born a few weeks after Josiah.
By now we'd met for real and knew were were proper friends, so when she found a lump a few months later and then had to go through mastectomies and chemotherapy and all nature of other things I wept with her and for her and her family.

I have seldom been happier in my life than when she was told she was in remission. Or more scared than when, after we had a long weekend in Paris last april she confided that she was scared it might be back. When she was told her fears were unfounded was one of the few times I've been even happier!

I have a lot of friends, some I see often, some I haven't seen for a long time, most are people I can kick my shoes off with and drink tea or wine with and chat to for hours, no matter how long it's been.
Rebecca is one of those, she's also one of a very few I can let see me at my most vulnerable. One of the few I'd chose to have with me in labour etc.

And the parcels were from her. From the moment she knew we were having twins and how hard shopping was over here she started to collect things, beautiful things, things I'd have chosen myself. And the parcels were full of these things.

How do you say thank you for a present like that?
How do you say thank you for a friend like that?

Rebecca, I love you darling.

xxx

Breech presentation

I had my 32 week scan yesterday.
All is well, babies are growing well - scarily well! and measuring in at approximately 9lbs between them with twin 2 a little heavier than twin 1.
I still can't quite get my head around there being two of them...
There's still plenty of fluid around then both and both placentas and cords are doing a great job. So far so good.
They are also both in a transverse/ breech presentation.
I asked at what point their positions were likely to be "set" because their size and lack of space meant they couldn't actually turn anymore, and was told that this could be it. They might still move and become cephalic, but twin one has his bottom fairly low down, not "engaged" but not far off, so that could be his position for the rest of the pregnancy.

Which will of course mean a caesarian. I have an appointment in about 10 days with the consultant and I guess he'll scan me again then so we'll get an idea if they're still mobile, and if not I'm assuming we'll be discussing booking an "elective" c-section at 36/ 37 weeks ish, so it really is good news that they're a decent size.
It seems odd to think that I will then know the date my babies will be born in advance. A far cry from going overdue with the others ans waking each morning to wonder "is this the day?".
Though this is by no means certain, they could always decide they want out before any planned date.

I'm surprisingly ok with the idea of a caesarian considering how much I wanted as natural and non medicalised, a labour and delivery as possible.
It was never about an emotional need to push my babies into the world. I don't consider women who have had natural childbirths anymore entitled to use the phrase "gave birth" than those who went under the surgeon's knife. For me it's all all about giving life to what started as a tiny bundle of cells, not about how you deal with the short few last hours before they take their first breaths on the outside. I think in Spain they refer at it as "Giving light to a baby" I like that. bringing them from the darkness into the light.
No, it's not about wanting to labour, it was about not wanting to make labour something it didn't need to be filled with intervention and drugs and so on. If there is a medical need then that's easy, I'll do what they think best.
And if it does end up as a planned caesarian then we can make that work well, maybe we can drop the boys at school in the morning, ton our way to the hospital and then J can collect them at the end of the school day to tell them about their brothers. And my mum need have only Ben to worry about.

I got home to the best parcel I have ever received in my life, literally. But there's another post in that story!

Special Care...

Sorry I've not been updating. I've had a busy - and exhausting - week.
My Father in law came to stay on Friday so I spent the week preparing for a house guest. I also went into frantic "nesting' mode a bit I think, no one can come and help with the children when I go into labour while it's all in this kind of a mess! So we're getting there though there's still a way to go yet!
I've been batch cooking too, trying to ensure we don't all starve once I'm out of action (or die of malnutrition on Fish and chips and sausages!
With Paul (that's the Father in Law) here J and I were able to go together to the birth and labour breathing class yesterday.
There were only 2 couples there, us and a lovely young couple expecting their first baby. She's tiny and has been told her baby is likely to be a nine pounder! I'm quite relived my older three were all around the 7lb13 mark and with heads that were/ are slightly small in proportion to their bodies!
No, 2 around 6 and a half pounds each would be ideal I think, small enough that I don't feel like I'm going to explode and big enough that they don't have all the additional problems associated with tiny babies.
Still, we have a growth scan on Tuesday (Valentine's day) so we'll know more then.

While we were at the hospital for the class J and I asked if we could have a look at the special care unit. We'd been advised to do this by various people, fear of the unknown never being a good thing.
I'm so glad we did. For the first time I'm glad that I am having these babies here.
Unlike Emma, who I mentioned in my last post, pregnant with quads, who has had to come to terms with the fact that because she will need 4 incubators etc her babies will probably be split between hospitals initially, here there are 4 "spaces" and because of the size of the population it's incredibly rare that more than one of them is in use at a time - extra good news because in March the airport here will be closed for a few days and we have no idea what that might mean in terms of emergency evacuation if needed, given that the air ambulance is a chieftan plane - the midwife didn't know either but suspected that the Barclay Brothers (the famous millionaire twins from Sark) might well offer their helicopter in that case, as they have before, which would be exciting, but perhaps not the kind of excitement we need!

Anyway, as well as the 4 incubators etc the special care baby unit here is separated from the maternity ward by a door. Just a door, so if it come to it and my babies are there I won't have the hours of waiting for a porter, nurse of midwife to take me to them that you read about in books and see on television.
Even if I'm not up to moving myself I can't imagine a situation where someone won't be able to spare the minute or so it would take to get me from A to B.

I saw a tiny baby while I was there though, born at 32 weeks (where I am today), now 34 weeks and doing well.
We'll be fine.

Quads!

No not me, phew!
But I've been reading the blog of a lady called Emma who has a 2 year old son and is expecting spontaenously conceived quad boys.
http://www.emmasquaddiary.blogspot.com/2012/02/wk26-day-6-congratulations.html#comment-form it's true, there's always someone who has it way harder than you do!

Quiet Baby...

I realised at about midday that I'd barely felt what they're now calling twin 2, the left hand one, move for at least 24 hours.
It'd been on my mind as a niggly thing but at about midday I acknowledged it.
I called the midwives at the maternity ward and my consultant actually answered the phone, he's got a very distinctive South African accent. He listened to what I had to say, and said he thought I should come on for a CTG.
J was taking the boys to the park and so, though he'd have liked to have come with me, he dropped me off at the hospital on the way.
When I got there there was a bit of a stir as another woman had come in for similar reasons and was hooked up to the twin CTG. Rather than have them move her I said I'd wait and they did some other antenatal checks while we waited.
There was protein in my urine sample - just protein + as they record it, but it was there. My BP was up for me, though still in the bounds of normal. And I have some oedema around my hands. In the later stages of pregnancy I remove my beloved and expensive, engagement and wedding bands and wear instead a £30 9 carat gold wedding ring we bought in Asda in my first pregnancy. It's a slightly larger size but more importantly (because I've never had significant swelling) I wouldn't be utterly devastated if it had to be cut from my finger. They sent the sample off for analysis. I should hear something tomorrow.
"Hmmm" said the midwife.
I was hooked up to the machine - the other lady having left, reassured and apologising for being "a headcase", I'm sure she's not incidentally, her first baby was born by caesarian section at 26 weeks, following an airlift to Southampton because of severe pre-eclampsia. Any mother who has done that deserves to have the odd bout of paranoia in my opinion.
It took a while to site the two monitor belts, but once they were in place twin one performed well, hitting the markers quickly.
No so twin 2. The midwife brought me a cup of apple juice to try to get him moving, and the heartbeat was clearly there, but he was indeed, very sleepy.
Eventually he hit all the markers and I was allowed to come home.

I've to monitor it for the next 48 hours though, and head back if he stays quiet.
"Rest and get ready for the babies" - well there's a contradiction in terms.

J'll move the bedroom furniture and build the cot in a bit. Well, once the rugby finishes...

I nearly caught the plane home today...

For a whole variety of reasons, not least that shopping on this island is impossible.
No where, no where stocks tiny/ early baby sized vests and babygros, You can get hideously overpriced "outfits" but standard white/ blue/ cream sleepsuits with poppers in packs? No.
No where, no where, stocks nursing bras above a G fitting. Only 2 shops actually stock them at all and they're hideous. Honestly even if they fitted I wouldn't put my grandma in them (And she's been dead and gone for years!)
When I queried this I was told "They don't make them", oh yes they do! "Ah but these are comfortable" - the girl was about 18 with a flat as a pancake tummy - "Have you worn one?" I asked.
"Well, no..."
I asked who bought their underwear in for them - it was a man's name... Hmm there's a chance that might explain a bit.
In M&S I was told, by the store manager, "You could order on-line" well yes, but not from M&S as the franchise doesn't allow you to order unless it's delivered to the store, "I think you can," she said. I sighed and pointed to the other staff members, all shaking their heads, "No, you can't". "Oh!" She said, 'well, I'm new..."
We need a booster seat for the tallest child in the car, the kind that means you can chuck it about - and access all the seats, and we need a bouncy/ rocker/ swinging chair or two for the babies. I looked on the "Toys R Us" website and found what I wanted, I put them in my "basket" and checked delivery. Apparently we're a "remote island" and they don't deliver to remote islands. I closed the site down.
They emailed me to ask why I hadn't checked out.
We went to the local shop (for local people!) that stocks both. Only they don't, not any more.

I bought a changing mat....

No idea what I'm doing about the rest.

Sighing and moaning mostly...

Phew...

Phew for a couple of reasons!

I'm actually starting to get the house and all the jobs that need doing under control. I'm hoping that this weekend will break the back of it, J has had a similar wake up call to the one he got in our first pregnancy - this time the sister of a work colleague has had her baby at 33 weeks.

My mum has arranged with her physio that she can miss a few weeks without having to go back onto the waiting lists, so she's set to come over from around 34/ 35 weeks and then stay for the duration.

My Father in law has booked flights to come over at the end of next week and then stay for half term, so I won't have all week alone with 3 children, he'll be here to look after Ben for the 32 week scan, and to look after all 3 while J comes with me to the birth relaxation class.

Best of all I went out for dinner with 2 friends earlier in the week. I met Sarah (who looked after Ben while I had the nuchal scan) and Sam (who is our regular babysitter/ irregular Childminder!) at the school gates when their daughters and Sam were all in reception together last year and they've become good friends.
They were incredibly reassuring, day or night, if I go into labour and there is no one here but J and I, Sarah will come, even if it means sleeping on the sofa.
Between them they will get the boys to/ from school and keep Ben occupied.

I honestly can't tell you what a relief all this is.

It also means that the uk friends who offered to fly over to help out (Rebecca, Lisa, Liz. I'm looking at you!) can come later and enjoy baby cuddles!

Going it alone...

It begins to look like a real possibility that I'll be having these babies on my own.
Fret not, we're not splitting up. But trying to ensure that we'll have someone around to look after the other three so that J can be with me is proving problematic...
My mum would come but the time I am likely to need her looks set to clash with a couple of things which mean she'll need to be in the UK.
She's starting a course of physiotherapy this week and at the end of February, my parents' mortgage term comes to an end. They were mis-sold an endowment 25 years ago and she'll need to be around to make onward arrangements, sign paperwork etc.
J's dad may or may not come over, but trying to get a straight answer is pretty tough.
So I've been looking around for standby, emergency childcare but it's not easy to find, not here anyway. In the UK I could look at a short term nanny contract through an agency or similar, but there doesn't appear to be anything similar here.
I had what seemed like a good lead on a mothers' help but she couldn't cope with my 3 on top of her existing commitment.

Friends can probably patchwork cover together, but it's a headache for sure.

On a positive not, good midwife appointment today. All doing well and still the presenting twin is cephalic.

Did you give birth alone? How was it? Do you have twins? Did this mean twin one got no skin to skin til after twin 2 arrived?

Insomnia...

As if it won't be bad enough once the babies are actually here, the insomnia has kicked in already.
Actually, it's as much the waking up in the night and being unable to get back to sleep, which would be a lot easier without a snoring husband (to be fair this isn't every night, he must be a bit congested) and children who think that if they wake in the night the best solution is to head for mummy and daddy's bed and insinuate themselves in.
Some mornings, when we wake there are five (well, seven!) of us in there.
Generally we can rely on Sam to sleep all night in his own bed, Josiah manages about four nights in seven, often creeping in around 6am.
Ben on the other hand joins us at some point in pretty much every night. I know I need to deal with this - in a maximum of about 9 weeks there'll be two actual, living, breathing babies in there with us but at the moment I'm just too tired, so if I notice him I roll over and try to go back to
sleep.
Last night/ this morning I woke at around 4am, someone was kicking me in the bladder! There wasn't actually space to sit up in bed, or roll over because J was taking slightly more than half the bed and Ben was lying between us on top of the duvet.
I used the loo, and went back to bed, but the position I had been in was no longer comfortable,, there wasn't enough duvet to properly cover me and after about 5 minutes I gave up and got up to lie on the sofa and watch TV.
There's not a lot on at 4am and I found myself watching "Baby Story" episodes on Discovery Home and Health.
There's no doubt in my mind - though I could be wrong - that birth is a very different thing in the US and the UK.
Most US births seem much more medicalised, they seem to move much sooner toward intervention once a woman is in labour and there appears to be a greater inclination to induce babies once the 37 week mark has passed.
Comparing that with the experience of friends and fellow forum members in the UK is interesting, on this side of the pond, women tend to be begging not to be induced before at least 42 weeks (even when they are fed up of late pregnancy and desperate to meet their babies) unless there is a clinical reason to do otherwise, opting instead to be monitored daily to ensure that all is still well with baby and placenta.
I wonder what causes the difference in expectation. Prenatal education I assume - following different strands of research to reach differing conclusions.
I had the last class of my "Relaxation Course" yesterday. There are a lot of expectations there too. If the midwife had looked at me one more time as she said "Of course some of you may well have a caesarian", or "if you have an epidural"I might have had to hit her, or at least respond LOL, as it is I just practiced my relaxation breathing....

30 week Consultant Appointment...

I'm tired and I'm going out tonight so this will be brief.


We had the 30 week appointment with my consultant today. Of course I managed to go without my "Birth Plan" but we still had a good chat about Mr J's expectations of the birth and ours.


He didn't rule out my managing the early part of stage one in water.
He would advocate epidural, though he didn't insist and said that mobile epidural is perfectly possible here.
He'd prefer constant monitoring but agreed that it could be intermittent in the initial stages - we may need further discussion on what constitutes intermittent and regular LOL.
He reiterated that they would attempt a vaginal birth of a second twin in the breech position and said that as he'd ultrasound on admission and after the birth of twin 1, while attempting any manipulation/ turning and before I started to push, they could be pretty certain they were getting it right. He's only once, years ago had a situation where the first twin was a vaginal birth and the second a c-section and this was because a registrar, thinking they were drawing down a leg had instead brought an arm down the birth canal - with the scans this wouldn't happen, they would be certain position was right.
He said that there would be no rush to deliver twin two, no immediate ARM, no automatic syntocinon  etc (as this was only done to stop everyone hanging about!) unless the scans showed evidence of the womb contracting down causing the placenta to start to separate.

All in all I feel positive about it - he also said that my iron won't be a bar to a vaginal birth and was quick to check ALL the figures concluding that it was probably low more because of dilution than anything else - I've had to argue this point in the past - but noting that my B12's a bit low too.
He didn't recheck, it can wait a few more weeks, he said.

And then he asked Ben - who was behaving beautifully, having had new shoes this morning - if he'd like to see the babies and he gave us a quick scan, so, today we have one cephalic and one breech - which is which he didn't know - "They keep changing how they call it" he said - still, clearly they still have room to move!

We asked how far along he thought we'd get and he said we were doing well and he thought we should make at least 34 weeks - so, that's when we need a grandparent here then!

The appointment over we made another for 34 weeks and then J,  Ben and I had lunch out and I bought new pyjamas, and HUGE knickers for my hospital bag - I'm almost ready to pack the thing!.

And as I said earlier, I'm off out tonight.
I belong to a local camera club, it's just a hobby really but I've been lucky enough to sell a few photos in the last 12 months, and I'm tired but 'm going anyway. life will grind to a near halt a bit once the babies arrive, I'm not going to let it happen sooner than it has to!

Birth Plans/ Thoughts/ Hopes

Anyone (especially twin mums) want to share theirs? And Anyone (especially those in the know) want to look over what I've got so far and tell me if I'm wide of the mark?

With Sam, my first, I had a beautiful birth plan that pretty much all went out of the window  :laugh:

With Josiah my birth plan was all about "Don't ask me to sign consents etc without my husband present unless it's life and death" and "I want someone to tell me when it's my last chance for an epidural - I don't want to hear 'It's too late' when I'm screaming"  :laugh:  Again, useless as he was born before my bags made it from the car!

With Ben I didn't write a plan - again my bag didn't get opened - but I sat down with midwives etc to agree a plan of action.

This time my research has shown that most twin births, even where not automatic c-sections, are pretty highly medicalised and I don't want that UNLESS it's necessary.

I have my 30 week consultant appointment on Thursday and wanted to get some things jotted down in advance of that in case it come up.


OK, so this is for discussion rather than a finished thing IYSWIM...

Background:


Have had 3 vaginal births, in Nov '05, June '07 and Dec '08. All three babies weighted 7lbs13oz or thereabouts.
Though the first was delivered with the aid of forceps, this was following a fairly medicalised labour (epidural, immobile, constant monitoring, ARM and syntocinon.
The second and third were both quick, easy births and both babies were born within minutes of arrival at the hospital.


Assuming twin 1 is cephalic:


Would prefer to avoid epidural.
Would like to be free to be mobile throughout labour. 
Happy to have CTG on admission and to be intermittently monitored.
Happy to have vaginal examinations as necessary.
Happy for a student to be present.
Would like to use birthing pool for 1st stage (In an ideal world would like to deliver in water but willing to get out for second stage) triggers for getting out of pool - rectal pressure/ waters breaking.
Happy for twin 2's position to be stabilised as twin 1 is born.
Happy to be examined to determine position of twin 2.
If twin 2 is transverse, transfer to theatre.
If twin 2 is breech would like to attempt vaginal delivery but willing to be guided by staff advice.
Happy to have active management of third stage.
Twins to have Vit K by injection.


Questions: Is there a time limit on delivery of twin 2? If so, why?
Do you advocate ARM for twin 2?

Nesting...

Getting organised for a first baby is all about shopping lists of things you "need", DIY jobs to be finished off and so on.

I remember coming home from work when I was 33 weeks with Sam, our eldest, to be met by J. "Oh" he said, "By the way, Andy phoned, Nicki's partner?"
"Oh yes, I met her at aqua-natal, she can't come any more because they said her blood pressure's too high, we're going t have coffee in a couple of weeks when I'm on maternity leave, is she ok?"
"Yes, she's fine, baby was a boy and they've called him Jonathan"
I sat down, J looked concerned "What's up?"
"Nicki's due the same week as me, that baby's 7 weeks early!"
Our Nursery got painted that weekend... Suddenly it all seemed very real, and close.
Baby Jonathan did fine by the way and is now a bright, vivacious 6 year old and Nicki too recovered well.

On Saturday this week the midwife who runs the relaxation classes gently told me off when I admitted I hadn't packed my hospital bag yet. I'm 29 weeks and in my head babies are born at 41 weeks, that's 3 months away, so nothing, and I do mean NOTHING is ready. But this time of course it's twins and nothing is certain.

 I took Josiah for new school shoes on Saturday afternoon, I don't remember when it was last just him and me out and about - it could be almost 3 years not counting times when we've been out with daddy too, or with a sleeping Ben.
He was immaculately behaved, so after we'd got the shoes he came with me while I bought some of the bits and pieces I need for the hospital bag and finally (after 3 children) signed up for the Boots Parenting Club. I treated him to some Rolos which he insisted on bringing home to share with daddy and his brothers.
Yesterday we collected the second cot and a changing table from a friend so we're full steam ahead now to start moving furniture around and getting things set up to make life easier when the twins are here.
Oddly though the first step is reorganising the children's rooms so I'd better get on...

If a rose was called a skunk-cabbage would it really smell as sweet?

(To paraphrase L. M. Montgomery's Anne Shirley.)

It seems odd that what is in many ways one of the most insignificant decisions we make for our children is also one of those that will affect them for most of their lives.

Most people have a favourite name or two, and the challenge is choosing a name that both Mummy and Daddy like equally and which doesn't offend or over compliment either side of the family.

Choosing names for our children is such a huge responsibility.  I've always subscribed to the theory that a child's name should "work" in both childhood and in adulthood, and should suit whatever path their life takes, Prime Minister or Plumbers' Mate. Solicitor or Street Sweeper.

And like traditional names, and for boys, fairly solid ones. So we have Sam, who is really Samuel - I think it was in the top 20 or so names the year he was born but we'e never really known many, and Sam tends to decide to be Samuel in these situations.
We have Josiah, which is maybe a little fanciful - though I was surprised by how few people had ever heard of the name, I expected that people might say they'd never met a Josiah, but never heard of one? Spode? Wedgewood? Not to mention the biblical boy king, and of course President Bartlett of the "West Wing" series. Anyway he can choose to be simply "Jo" any time he likes, or "Jed" as we'd originally planned. And I've stopped being concerned that he might be considered "odd" as a result of his name in school, that's never going to be an issue in a class that includes "Zeus".
Choosing Ben's name was harder, it needed to "work" with the others and to be honest anything goes with Sam. But with Samuel and Josiah? What worked but didn't make us sound like deep south red-necks? It was tricky, and became trickier when he was born, and had very dark hair, we'd expected a redhead, like Sam, or a dusty blond, like Josiah, and here he was, one very dark haired baby.
Eventually we settled on Ben, who is really Reuben. So we have Samuel, Josiah and Reuben. Or Sam Jed/Jo and Ben. All traditional names, all biblical prophets, all also english revolutionaries.

And then we gave them each two middle names.

Now, in retrospect, this was a mistake. In fact we sat at the registrar's desk waiting to register Ben still debating whether or not we used the second middle name, or saved it in case we ever had another baby boy. And we used it.

So when we knew there was going to be a fourth baby the debate started early, but it was hard right from the start.
Knowing there was also going to be a fifth was liberating in a way, it meant we didn't HAVE to follow the set pattern, we could have a pair of names that worked together that didn't have to work with the others.

It's still hard though, not least because J is still wedded to that name we were debating in the registry office 3 years ago, and would re-use it. While I don't think that's right.

What would you call them?

Can I have a moan? (parts of this might be sensitive)

Actually I feel less like moaning now than I did earlier, probably because I've partly written this in my head already....

I sometimes feel I'm not allowed to complain - like a child told to eat their dinner because there are starving children in Africa (actually I was never very good with that one either, my mum remembers me telling her to "send it to them then, I don't want it"...)
I constantly remind myself that there are a lot of people who have had an incredible, heart rending, painful journey to parenthood.
People who have had months of hoping and praying as they clutched a stick in the bathroom, people who have had the joy of seeing the blue line, only to then see the red spotting and worse.
People who have suffered the indignity of medical tests, and the struggle to afford treatments. Who's relationships have been tested to breaking point by the question of "who is to blame?" or feeling responsible.
People who have had babies knowing that their hours would be few and their time to bless the world short.
People who have had children full of life one day and torn from them by sudden illness the next.
And I have friends, good friends, who fit into all these groups.

So who am I to moan? My path has been an easy one. Three, healthy, growing boys, and twins (God willing) soon to join them.
How can I complain?

But I do.
I'm tired, really tired.
J is working flat out, he's doing long hours at the office and doing all he can to help at home too.
This morning, when the alarm went, I struggled out of bed, chased the boys to eat breakfast, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, made packed lunches, went upstairs to chase the boys into uniforms and take J some tea, and found him snoring. Words might have been said...

We got the boys to school and I dropped J at the office and ran some errands in town, not much, a quick trip into the M&S food hall for biscuits, a cheque to pay into the bank (bother there's another in my bag I'd forgotten). A wander up to the card shop for a birthday card.
That's where it went wrong. The card shop. They had no cards suitable for a 2 year old girl on display. I asked a staff member who phoned upstairs to get someone to come and help, it took 5 minutes, by now Ben had become bored and escaped.
He was delighted to get the chance to run around the shop, I was not delighted to chase him.
Having caught him I went with the staff member who had stood, dumbly, while I,  clearly struggling, had chased Ben round several displays, to the card section where she pointed out several 2 year old cards in blue, with diggers - now I'd have no issue with this, but it does look a bit like you haven't really bothered when you send a little girl a card clearly aimed at little boys. Grudgingly she got on her knees to look in the drawer "Here" she handed me a dogeared, disney Winnie The Pooh card in pink and blue. And then sat back.
I asked if there was anything else - this isn't a corner shop, it's a big branch belonging the the UK card shop beginning with C you'll all have heard of -  and quite apart from anything else I actually needed two. She sighed and started to look half-heartedly.
By now I'd had enough, so I handed the card back and told her not to bother, that it really wasn't good enough and left.
Or I would have left, except that a little old man, who, to be fair meant no harm, was insistent that I pass through the aisle ahead of him, and I couldn't. Not with Ben still having a tantrum because he wasn't allowed to run free, the shopping bag, the bump and the man himself in my way. "No, you go first" I said. So he decided to talk to Ben.
And I just wanted to leave. Now normally I'd smile and take 5 minutes but I'm afraid I said something polite but dismissive and went down the next aisle.
I abandoned the rest of the chores and we came home.

Two friends came after lunch for a bit which was lovely, really it was.

And then I had to do the school run. Ben was a nightmare, refusing to get into the car - once I finally got him in he fell asleep in about 3 minutes, he's clearly at that stage in his virus where he's better enough to be naughty despite not having the energy to actually do anything.
When we got to school, there was nowhere to park, including the yellow lines that the traffic warden turns a blind eye to at school run time, and the ones he'll still ticket even then. For some reason it was twice as busy as usual.
I drove round the block 4 times becoming increasingly unreasonable in my tearful rant to myself. No one needed a space more than I did. It was pure selfishness that they couldn't leave even one for me.
As I say even at the time I knew this was unreasonable. I paused, put the phone on speaker and rang J. He came out of the office for 10 minutes to run in and fetch them while I continued to drive round the block.

Tonight I might have told one of the children for the first time ever that if they didn't behave I would send then to live with Grandma 'til I had some more energy to deal with them. I've never done that before.

And yet people who hear that I'm not overdue, that I still have about 10 weeks to go, but it's twins, look wistful and say "I'd have loved twins..." REALLY? Really? You'd have chosen this, over having babies one at a time? Because I have to be honest, I wouldn't.