Thirty-Three Weeks, Six Days ~ October 15, 2004
~ Making it through
As of tomorrow, I'll be 34 weeks. That's the safe zone. That's the 'they can nurse, and they can breathe, and they won't be in the NICU forever' zone.
Sigh of relief.
I did talk to my OB about the biophysical profiles. He was okay with me saying 'skip it', but he also has had some twins suddenly have one of them not doing well, with no warning - usually twin-to-twin-transfusion type issue (only found in identicals), but he'd just feel more comfortable knowing. His preference, not his demand. He's willing to live with mine, too. I opted to let him feel safe, as it isn't ALL that big a deal to me (despite the $120 price tag - 30 bucks a pop with my insurance).
I also got a chance to go over our birth plan with him. That was reassuring, and pleasant, and positive. Not only did he spend the time to look at it, he kept nodding and saying 'good, good, uh-huh, good' as he went down the points. There was only one thing he wasn't sure would fly without some effort, and that was having more than just Will in the operating room if I was having a c-section. I'd like my doula and mom to be there, too. But that is up to the anesthesiologist, more than anyone else. My OB gave me the tip that if I treated the anesthesiologist with respect, and asked his or her permission to include extra people, but assured him or her that I didn't want to make their job harder... well, I was far more likely to get a yes, or a partial yes (one extra body). I should talk to them during labor, according to the OB, ahead of their possible use, when things weren't in a hurry.
Of course, for an emergency (a real emergency, not just a 'well, this is the only way they're coming out' emergency), everyone gets the boot, even Will. I can understand that.
But if that is the ONLY thing on our list that caused him to pause, we're a very close match. We sure have a lot of 'prefer not to have' items, things that 'everyone' has. Like IVs (hep lock is fine, routine fluids are not), and immediate cord cutting, and so forth. Nary a blink from him on any of them. And even that one thing he noted, instead of saying 'no, you can't do that', he said 'here's how to try to get that, even if I'm not there.'
Yeah, this is the right OB. Now fingers crossed that he's the one we GET. I really hope he's the one on call.
Beyond just approving the list, he also wanted to see the rest of the birth plan - not just the stuff for the medical staff, but the things we are doing at home, the approaches to how to handle my stress, why I would want to boot someone from the room, what we're packing to bring to the hospital, and so forth. Not just the medical stuff that HE needs to know, to do the medical-in-hospital part of his job, but the overall things he needs to know about how we approach birth, how we handle stress, what we'll be doing when we're not under his explicit care. Basically, holistic care - he wants to know the whole pattern, not just 'his part'. How about that!
He also deeply approved of something Will asked me to add to the plan, something recommended by the book The Birth Partner. That is a page of information on who we are, our goals, our history, and our current method (Hypnobirthing). And a specific thank-you to the staff for helping us achieve those goals. I grumped a bit about putting it in - I was aiming for a one-page bullet list, not one page and a cover sheet! But I wrote it up, and found in the process that it probably will help, especially if we get someone who is not familiar with us. And our OB agreed. He thought it was a great idea, highly useful.
The plan is pretty much done, except for the phone number list. We're getting through it. Oh, and the names list is gradually getting culled down, too. We're getting through that, too.
Now, all I have to do is get through the next two weeks. My blood pressure is starting to destabilize - it was high at the office visit, to start, but dropped again later on. I really have to take the breaks, and push the protein, and hang in there... no fudging on the 'taking care of me' thing, especially not on the physical parts.
Two more weeks. Two more weeks of making it through, each day. Resting, eating, drinking, resting again, and working, too. Yes, I'm still working.
Two more weeks of making it through the nights, too. The reflux is nasty, to the point where I wake up feeling my stomach acid pooling up my esophagus, and have to sit up, chomp down about four TUMS, and sit there for 15 minutes while they take effect, before I can go back to sleep. Meanwhile, I usually discover that I have to pee. And that my pelvis is sore. So I hitch myself off the bed, stand up carefully (OOF), and waddle ungracefully to the bathroom. Then I have to climb BACK in bed, and start again, hoping that I'll only get one bout of reflux tonight, and won't spend half the night awake with insomnia.
Just two more weeks of that. I can do two more weeks. And a bit, really - but at that point, I'll be getting through a day at a time, I suspect. I've spoken to enough twins mommies to know that the next few weeks are HARD WORK, just to keep from wishing wishing wishing the babies would just come already!
Definitely not the most comfortable I've been in my life, though still not as bad as when I broke my ankle. I could do weeks of the broken ankle - because I had to. There's just no choice, sometimes. I can do this, too. No choice, if I want them to be full term, big, healthy, strong babies. Babies who come home with us, that don't have to stay behind at the hospital. That's what I want. And that's really what I choose, because I must, for them. The best for them, even if it is a struggle for me. As I've learned, it isn't about me. It isn't about what I want, what I prefer, what I need. It is what they need, first and foremost. Sometimes those things are the same, sometimes they're not. But always, their needs supercede everything else. All I can do is let my own 'stuff' go, deal with the physical reality of being pregnant with twins, and keep making it through.
One day at a time. Two more weeks. Two more weeks and a bit, or even three or four more weeks.
I can do this. We can do this. Will, and Gabe, and Brendan, and our families, and our friends, all together.
We'll make it through.