36 weeks

30 weeks was too early. 32 weeks -  not bad. 34 weeks - the (medical) goal. Now, at 36 weeks I know am allowed to exhale and let go. Yet, I can`t. The last few weeks have taught me lessons. Life lessons. About motherhood and birth and responsibility. It is like being a kid again and looking after the pet you longed to own for so long. Your days are filled with an incredible sense of affection and responsibility - only 10 times more intense than when looking after a rabbit. Although I have never seen their faces nor looked them in the eyes I have developed the biggest sense of responsibilty for their well being - pushing myself to go on and on - all for their own good - development and growth.

Tiny dots on ultrascounds change your life but remain something very abstract for too long quite a while. Then the abstract develops into something. Something turns into shapes. Hands, and feet and noses become visible. You find yourself listening to heartbeats, checking your belly in the mirror - every day - multiple times. Excitement, fear, love, anxiety and immense sickness determine your days.

When you find yourself bed ridden with an 24 hour IV next to you while women in the room or bed next to you go into labour at the right time  40 weeks of pregnancy and leave the hospital 3 days later with a perfectly healthy baby you learn that pregnancy is nothing to be taken for granted. New life, giving life, becomes a miracle, a gift - a blessing. Luckily you encounter far more women with little problems during pregnancy and labour but being here also opens your eyes to another world. You meet women having a c section in her 28th week of pregnancy, hours later looking at pictures of a tiny tiny something which won´t be carried home after 3 days but instead 3 months. You see husbands and boyfriends who hold hands and stand by ones side while other women need to build up courage and confidence day in and out, telling themselves that they in the end will be ok. Alone but ok. Everyone has a story which continues here on the labour ward between nurses and c sections and bad hospital lunches. Some women are extremely courageous, others crack earlier than they or anyone expected them to.

On wednesday doctors will discuss and determine what turn my own story will take. If a c section is still the best and safest way for me to give birth. Another ultrasound will show how much the twins have put on since our last date with Professor MW, if their nourishment is still good, if we can try and push this whole thing another week or if we have reached the end of our pregnancy story. 

We have done well so far and I am aware of it. No one thought we or I would make it this far. Yet we did. Call it whatever you like: Destiny, determination, focus or sheer luck. I call it love. A new love I have not encountered before. (Which has overwhelmed me by the way and makes me think that this is what was bound to happen. No matter how crazy the circumstances may seem.) The love of a mum. 

Dear tiny dancers,
I  may not have seen your faces before but I am already your fan. All I am asking you for is that our journey until now, all weeks, days, minutes, seconds being bed ridden with crazy roommates, Iv´s, contractions, bad hospital food, trashy TV and weekly ultrasounds have paid off somehow. It is our last chapter. I listen to Marlon sing: "I´ll be the greatest fan of your life."

36 weeks.

35 weeks

Every week I write how exhausting being pregnant has become, how much on the edge I feel most of the time, how I truly think we won´t go on for much longer. (Much longer meaning another week by the way.) I write about it cause in this very moment this is how I feel. So far so good. But THEN - a week later - I am back here, in front of the screen sitting on my hospital bed writing another post with a massive belly and two tiny dancers happily kicking inside me. Let me check...Yeah - definitely still pregnant. 

Although I feel like a massive pregnant liar I am not even exaggerating when I say I feel we can´t - won´t - go on much longer cause this is exactly how I feel the very second I write about it: pregnant, massive, tired, exhausted with pain in parts of my body you don´t even want to know about. In these moments I do truly feel like we have reached the end of it, that all skin has been stretched to the max by now and that I will fall over if I continue to carry these twins around - but no, no, no: another week and we are still here. Of course: The longer - the better but sometimes it is a fine line between being happy about it and wanting this to end.

Having said that I do have to admit that since I saw one of my hundred my old roommate having a c section in her 28th week of pregnancy and looking at pictures of a 1kg fetus plugged to a hell lot of machines I am telling myself that we need to hold out as long as we can. If it happens now, it can happen but lord do I want to avoid any time on the intensive care unit. Keep your fingers crossed, folks.

Due to little contractions and doing pretty well for weeks now there was talk about me leaving this place before I give birth but last thursday doctors decided against it after all. My cervix has shortened again and with that all talk about leave, home cooked food and other homey comforts went out of the window. Au revoir. Of course I was gutted for the rest of the day especially as my doctor also told me that giving birth without the big C involved also looks like a no, no due to the twins differencing in weight but what can you do?!

C section it is then. Oh well. At least the longer I am here the easier I find it to deal with all the madness surrounding me. C section?! Bring it on. Another annoying roomate includng her crazy family?! Nothing I have not seen before. (Do I have to mention that I have been and keep being EXTREMLY unlucky with my roommates?! From China doll to spoiled brat - I have seen them all. In the bed next to me. If this was an accurate picture of our society - Jeez I don´t even want to think about it. I mean, we already have to deal with men wearing white socks in sandals!) Heavy contractions which end up with a very quick transfer to the labour ward. Nah, nothing to worry about. We are faaarrrr from giving birth. Sometimes you just gotta laugh at things and take it easy. I mean what else can you do?!

So HELLO! It is another day in the medical madhouse hospital. Still pregnant, still fat, and between contractions, ultrascans, admiring Gary Barlow on the X factor and more trashy TV we are doing fine, making friends and enemies and holding it together.

35 weeks. Done.

34 weeks

 

On April, 16th I peed on a stick and seconds later my life was turned upside down. I had dreamt about it for an entire week, with two blue lines it became official: Pregnant.

On May, 20th I copied the above quote written by the fabulous James Frey into my diary. A month from the second I had peed on that stick everything had yet changed again. Not even the end of May and I already  knew that I could not stay where I was at the time, that I needed to go back to Germany  if I wanted to keep the twins. Sometimes things break beyond repair. Things broken into a million pieces certainly belong to that category.

So here we are. And although it has been a hell of a few months, weeks, days, minutes we have done pretty well because we have reached (tataaa) the big 34! 34 weeks is what I needed to reach in order for the twins to be safe in terms of fetal development. 34 weeks is the point when all treatments (with twins) stop. No more IV´s, no more medicine to stop early contractions. Whatever happens now  - I can actually let it happen. And although I paid a visit to the intensive care unit last saturday and found the thought of the babies to be surrounded by huge machines and monitors very depressing (sadly this is were the twins will most likely go for a few days if they are born before 36 weeks): Tiny dancers, whenever you are ready: I am.

(And until then I try and remain calm and postive between bad lunches, roomates who turn into a bigger emotional mess by the day, and an ever growing belly - slowely making its way low low low.)