Letters to the Twins, Part Six

Twinkie and Twinkette,

Well here we are, at the end of your gestation, and I'm only 36 weeks and 1 day. After 6 weeks of strict and diligent bed rest, you are still determined to come early. (You must only have a dash of Penick in you.) I have dilated to 5 centimeters and I'm 70% effaced. Since at least one of you is still breech, we're going in for a scheduled cesarean today, in a race against my progressing labor. Though I am completely terrified, I am so ready for you. I have had plenty of time to prepare for this day, but feel so utterly unprepared. I have had a ton of visitors in my hospital room, all wanting to stroke the big twin belly one last time and share in the excitement of your impending arrival. Everyone is giddy and happy-go-lucky. Everyone, that is, except for your daddy and me. He's just plain nervous. My nervousness has reached a whole new, uncharted tier. It's been a kind of out of body experience for me. I don't believe there is a word for what I am feeling. It's a mix of so many things and heavy on the emotion. I am feeling a bit rushed today, but glad you're going to have such an awesome birthday. (08-09-10) I am excited for Willa to have siblings, but uneasy and a little sad that she doesn't quite understand the change that is about to take place. I am so happy for the relief my pelvis is about to experience, but a little guilty that I'm thinking of me. I am eager to finally see your faces and hold you in my arms, but more than a little horrified for the nurse to come wheel me off to surgery. We've had a rough road, you and you, and I, but the end is kind of bittersweet. Watching the clock, waiting for five, the hours are both creeping and flying by. I'm finding that going into labor is nice...pain is good...it occupies the mind. A scheduled c-section is just eerie. It's showtime. See you in a bit!

Love and kisses,

Mama

Letters to the Twins, Part Five

My dear double dose of Heep,

So you've gone and turned on me...breech, that is. That's okay, Lovies, make yourselves comfortable for the time being. You still have at least 8 weeks until I let you out. Just remember that it will be greatly appreciated if you turned back around and joined in my efforts for a natural, non-surgical delivery. It's no rush, and just a suggestion. You are each over 3 pounds and 17 inches in length. Whoa, that's a lot of baby! And your movements have grown even stronger and more pronounced, enough that it sometimes takes my breath away. I'm getting nudged by pointy little limbs all over the place and occasionally wonder if you're in there using my organs as a punching bag or a string instrument. Since I can't check in on you anytime I want, I'll admit, it is nice to know you're okay...and entertaining yourselves. Your growth is great, and you seem to be healthy and strong, just as a German pair should be. You still have some important work to do, like completion of your lung development and packing on a few more pounds. But the doc says everything looks great in there, despite my ongoing and bizarre pregnancy ailments. What's a little sciatica, double carpal tunnel, and heartburn in the whole scheme of making two babies? I am certainly woman enough to handle 5 or 6 bathroom trips a night, some swelling, and 30 extra pounds which seem to all be resting squarely on my pelvis. Maternal fat storage is such a cute name for cellulite, I think. And if it weren't for the carpal tunnel, I could fix my face right up to conceal the splotchy brown pregnancy mask that has washed over it. The freight train snore I've developed is only temporary and I secretly think your daddy finds it endearing. I only wonder why it is that I can't consume enough ice, and find new car scent to be so intoxicating. Your daddy and I have finished Willa's room and have been working away on your's. Your shiny new chest of drawers is stocked, and your cribs are set up. Only a few more finishing touches and all that will be missing is you. We are so eager to welcome you home, but know that you are not quite ready for the outside yet. It won't be long. XOXO

Letters to the Twins, Part Four

My dear duo in utero,

You've come a long way. babies! In fact, I'd say you've just reached the biggest milestone of your short existence - the point of viability! If you absolutely had to be born today, you would have a great chance of survival, with medical intervention, of course. There have been so many people rooting and praying for you, I bet you can almost hear their mass sigh of relief that we've made it to this point. I'm confident and determined to take you all the way, but that's still a good bit of reassurance. In the recent weeks, you have doubled in size, at 15 inches long, and weigh a hefty 3 pounds each. Your features are growing more distinct, though only time will tell whether they will favor your daddy or me. And you can blink! (I'm out here winking at you right now.) They say that your sleep cycles are developing as well...and it seems as though your days and nights are mixed up. Just about the time I turn in for the night, the two of you start winding up. As busy as you've been inside your cozy womb, things have been equally busy out here. I have been making room for you at home. Nesting has commenced, and with a bang! Bags upon boxes of Willa's outgrown clothing and toys have been sorted and either lovingly reassigned to you or donated. Your daddy and I have begun your sister's transition out of the nursery and into her new big-girl room. Spackling, painting, drilling, check, check, check. Once that is complete, we'll be able to start on the challenging task of designing your shared space. I'm feeling the pressure to hurry and get it done because we're growing so fast, these energetic and productive days are bound to be numbered. My mother's intuition seems to be working; I feel like I'm starting to know who you'll be. Your daddy and I have names picked out for each of you, but we're keeping them to ourselves until we meet and make them official. At 26 weeks, I have gained as much weight as I had at the end of my last pregnancy and I'm considerably rounder. From what the doctor can tell, you are still in the ideal vertex/vertex position and I can feel your tiny movements all over the place, from way down low in my pelvis to up high behind my ribs. Sometimes I catch you stretching out, distorting the basketball that my belly has become, and it's fun to guess which body part it is that's doing the poking and to which one of you it belongs. Time is passing so quickly, before we know it, you'll be nestled in my arms, making those same familiar movements and our little mystery will be solved.

Letters to the Twins, Part Three

My sweet little beans,

How you have sprouted over the past few weeks! It must be my new and improved appetite, which has meant fewer empty calories (McDonald's Cheeseburgers) and more of everything else. (Organic peanut butter on whole wheat toast, washed down with a homemade fruit smoothie, and chased by a handful of yogurt-covered pretzels. And some days, that's all before lunch.) I can tell you're growing stronger by the intensity of your punches and kicks, which keep me entertained throughout the entire day. Between the two of you, there is rarely a dull moment. Your dad and I visited with a big-city doctor last week, who performed a detailed Level 2 Sonogram. He carefully examined each and all of your parts and gave us plenty of reassurance that everything is in working order. Actually, he used the word, "perfect," but that was old news to us. You are almost exactly the same size: 12 ounces, with a difference of only 2 grams! Baby Girl, you're still our Baby A (first in line for the grand entrance.) And Baby Boy, I'm so pleased that you're already minding your mama and have decided to flip around to a more ideal position, head down and sweetly spooning your sister. Now, all you have to do is stay put, and GROW! I'm sure you can hear us by now, and hope you're enjoying Willa's endless chatter as much as your dad and I do. She's really excited to be your big sister and practices her swaddling skills every day. Her once interchangeable dolls, Suzy I and Suzy II, are now inseparable Suzy and Molly, the twins. I have finally found the energy and mental capacity to begin making room for the family addition. Mostly, it has just been thinking and planning but I foresee some execution is on the horizon. I'm sure that you will feel that you fit quite nicely into our home and family. The consensus out here is that the two of you will perfectly complete us. Here we go again with the "perfection"...Don't let it go to your heads.

Love you,

Mama