Birth Story 1

When I found out I was going to have twins, I knew (and some parts of me kind of hoped) that they would come a little early. My pregnancy was rough, and I didn't plan on making it any longer than 36 weeks. I was being selfish. At 36 weeks, I didn't think of my twins as "preemies". At 36 weeks, they would probably be good to breathe alone. It's kind of a magic number when you're pregnant. I figured they might need a little help from the NICU, but not much. My mind was pretty firmly set on 36 weeks.

Never did I imagine that I would begin labor at 31 weeks. I never thought that I would be a real "preemie mom."

Saturday, April 9, 2016 
31w1d

I spent the afternoon laying upside down on an ironing board. I looked like an insane person, but I had two really stupid reasons for doing this. The first was to try and get my baby A to "spin" (look it up. Baby spinning is a real thing. Do I think it's credible? Well no, not anymore, obviously). The second reason was to try and get my gargantuan ankles to return to a semi-normal size. I regret doing this with every fiber of my being.

I knew something was wrong that entire day because, despite all my efforts to get my baby to "spin," I hadn't felt a single kick all day long. By the time my husband came home from work, I was really worried.

We ended up in the hospital around 11 that night to check our babies' heartbeats (just like they had told us to do in our birthing class). The nurse just said it looked like the boys were a little crowded and were only able to make smaller movements. Brian and I went home confidently.

Monday, April 11, 2016
31w3d

We went to our final birthing class. I had signed us up early because I was expecting the boys to show up mid-May. We toured the labor and delivery floor, saw where our families could wait to meet our babies, checked out the recovery suites, and we even went to visit the NICU.

As we left the NICU, the sweet receptionist there said "I hope I don't see any of y'all again!" and we all gave a good natured laugh and waved.

Tuesday, April 12, 2016
31w4d

6:00 AM

I tried to ignore the urge to pee just like every morning, but I lost...just like every morning. I wrestled out of my maternity pillow, heaved my swollen little body out of bed, and waddled to the bathroom, grumbling to myself and the boys.

I didn't even bother to turn on the lights anymore because I didn't want to risk waking myself up too much. I sat down, finished business, and pulled up my pajama bottoms and started to waddle back to bed. I wasn't even a step away from the toilet when I felt a rush.

Damn it, Nat. I kicked off my shorts and sat back down on the toilet.

I had read about this crap. Your uterus starts to press on your bladder so much that you're basically incontinent. This was obviously just my freaking luck.

Half way to the bedroom another rush came out.

Oh my God, Natalie. Get it together.

Muttering to myself and the boys, I started blindly reaching around under the bathroom sink for the Clorox wipes. I wiped up my mess and waddled off again.

I got fresh bottoms and immediately it happened again! I peed myself.

Great, I thought. I had a meeting at school and I was going to go and probably pee my pants. It was finally time to turn on the light and put on some glasses. I started mopping up with Clorox wipes.

At this point, I started to think that maybe my water had broken.

I started googling and found stories of broken water and also of women who were just no longer able to hold their bladders.

Well I knew how this would play out. I would be the raving hypochondriac contacting my physician, yet again, with some non-problem that I found in some rabbit hole I jumped in on Google.

I put on a maxi pad and made some tea. At this point it felt like I was peeing myself just a little bit every few minutes. Too much information? Yeah, Brian thought so too. But in our birthing class we had been told that when your water breaks it can trickle out slowly sometimes, so, per his suggestion, I emailed my doctor and waddled my pregnant little butt to class.

8:45 AM

A nurse called before my group meeting and said that they would really like me to come in. They said what I described sounded really suspicious. I told her that I had been googling again and that my language was probably reflecting what I had read and that it was probably nothing and that I was probably just a loser who was peeing herself as we spoke. Yuck, but whatever, pregnant women have a free pass to just do whatever at this point anyways. I told her I had a meeting and that I'd come in after that.

9:15 AM

She called again during my meeting and I said it was almost over.

I explained to my group that I was most likely just completely incontinent, but also (super casually) that my water might have broken. The ex-pregnant girl in my group said, "Oh no way. You would KNOW if it was your water."

10:00 AM

The nurse called again and I finally left my meeting.

10:20 AM

I was on the table for all of a second when my doctor cranked me open.

My water had broken.

I was too shocked to even panic.

Everything started happening so fast. She told me that I was to go straight to the hospital. I asked her if I had some "wiggle room." I literally said those words: "wiggle room." I wanted to go home and get things. I hadn't packed hardly anything yet! My hospital bag had makeup wipes and maxi pads in it! What about all my Pins about "The Perfect Hospital Bag"??? I had plans that were falling through. She look apprehesive, but said she wanted me there in an hour tops. I wanted to go home and get my iPad and maybe put on some make up.

I called my husband's cell and got no answer. I called his work phone and told his boss my water had broken. He came running to the phone. He said he'd meet me at the hospital.

I was driving home when I started to really freak out.

What the hell am I doing??
What am I doing going home for an iPad???? My water is broken! One of my babies is being exposed to infection and he is probably in shock and I'm thinking about eyeliner???? I went to CLASS?????

At this point the shock started to wear off and the panic started to set in. I flipped a U and high tailed it back to the hospital. I had to park like a mile away. I called everyone as I walked. My mom. My dad. My mother-in-law. My grandmas. I needed prayers. My babies needed prayers. Only one grandma answered. Nobody was expecting a call like this at this point.

I was checked in a settled into a bed within half an hour. I was on bed rest, they said. They were giving me steroid shots and antibiotics to help the babies, they said. They put a catheter in (OUCH). They said it would be a long stay. They hooked me up to monitors to track the babies' heart rates and my contractions. I was so uncomfortable and worried and sad. But I felt confident that they would be able to keep my babies in for at least a week.

A nurse told me, "A day inside of you is like three days in the NICU."