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.) 

33 weeks

Almost 3 weeks ago it was not even sure if I would make it through the night without having to have a c section. I was literally on the edge of becoming a mum over night. Now we - all three of us -  have made it to the end of 33 weeks. So far so good. We´ve done well. And with regards to the future: 6 more days and we are really on the safe side.  34 weeks is superb for twins. So I am counting, people.

Of course being in hospital sucks. Immensely. Day in and out you are forced to put up with so much crap - from daily injections, moody nurses and shitty hospital food to roommates you just don´t click with to their boyfriends who make inappopriate comments about your boobs. (While their girlfriend is in the room. Of course.) It might sound fun at times but here - with an increasing lack of patience - it ain´t. Luckily there is the outside world (although I have only seen it once in the past 2 1/2 weeks) -  messages, chats and visits from friends and other lovely people. Now those are the things you really need and get you through another day with at least a smile on your face. Small acts of kindness with massive effects. Things you could not buy. Priceless. 

Last week multiple tests were done to find out more as to why I passed out on my bed 2 1/2 weeks ago. I spent two rather entertaining mornings in various departments of the hospital, found myself in a waiting hall being the only patient under the age of 65, had an ultrasound done on my heart,  had electrolytes glued to my head which looked like 30 years of dandruff when taken off, and ran around with a very fashionable necklace "a 24 hr ECG" for two days - always accompanied by my new polish friend "Walter" - a member of the hospital service which helps patients to and from other departments. Of course check ups are never fun  - especially your heart and brain can be quite worrying areas when it comes to test  and moreover test results- but I do have to admit that the whole thing was somewhat entertaining and definitely something more exciting than the usual hospital dullness you are surrounded by. All test results are ok so far, brain and heart seem in good shape, my university degree is officially justified.

Contractions have slowed down and so far everything "down there" is holding together which is the main thing. On the downside, everything else seems to be getting harder and harder by the minute now. I know I wrote about it before, but you never know you can face another level of exhaustion until you get there...And believe me: THIS is it: Real - to the max exhaustion and a total feeling of being uncomfortable. In the last few days, the last week maybe, the size of my belly has expanded to another level. Sleeping, walking (although I am still immensely glad I am allowed to do it now), breathing, looking at myself in the mirror with a massive ball in front of me - your daily tasks have become a major challenge. It is a fine line to be honest. On the one hand it shows that both babies have grown quite a bit which is what weI need and great of course. On the other hand it means my so far whale size got topped by a new size which I did not know was possible to reach before. Exhaustion is the word. Another twin pregnancy?! Although I am hoping to become a fan one day, I am pretty sure to say I am crossing that one off the list. For life. Bye, bye.

Now, putting tdepressing topics of increasing exhausion and a growing belly aside: As I type this post a chinese lady has just been assigned to the third bed in the room. After the inital surprise, giggle, shock it has been like a tragic stroll down Daqing or Luzhou Central. An accumulation of clichees which right now I can not take anymore. From your display of chinese pregnancy clothes (and those of you who are/have been in China know what I mean), fake Nikes, hot water for breakfast, the very alarming  very chinese sound of QQ to the sound of "Wei wei" when answering the phone. It is a total ting bu dong which combined with a lack of german language skills (oh yes, it has only been 5 years in this country!) is getting to me whether I like it or not. Having met many woman from various parts of the world I do have to say that China is not in my Top 5. Not even in my Top 10. Of course there are exceptions but somehow I feel this ain´t one of them. I know you get what I mean: Dear China, although being your guest for almost 2 years has been one of the best experiences of my life you have also driven me mad many times. So I need a break. Please just allow that. I am waiting. Xie xie.

Putting China Doll aside: Last but not least: thank you everyone for everything - from lovely messages to skype chats to visits. Even the tiniest thing means a lot here and cheers me up immensely. I love you all and know I am blessed to have you in my life.

33 weeks and you never know what will walk through the door next what kind of madness will hit you next.

Stay tuned for more. It can be entertaining at times.

33 weeks of fetus and me

32 weeks

32 weeks. Still in hospital. Still be ridden with dinners at the crazy early hour of 5 pm and daily cardiotocograms but we are safe. Safe for now and the last couple of days. Contractions monitored by the cardiotogram have slowed down to one per 20 minutes which is ok. Currently antibiotics are still running through an IV, entering my system several times a day, daily needles injected to drain blood are slowly making my arms look like I have suceessfully been on drugs for months but today I was told that from tomorrow the antibiotics will leave the room and with that all bigger treatments are stopped. Success. Nurses, doctors and midvives have become familiar faces - the red button next to my bed my very favourite personal assistant  to the outside world of coffee, water and more. 

Although you might feel I have an all inclusive deal here, it takes patience and endurance to lie down day after day. Days evolve around napping, eating, TV, books, laptop and forms of live entertainment which can be quite anything - from women who go into labour and turn up in super good shape with their newborn a couple of hours later to lovely friends who come and turn the hospital bathroom into a photo booth. 

Since my old roommates got transferred the room has turned into an interstation for pregnant women. They get off the train, arrive with small bags, just to hop onto the next one home a day or two later. So far only one girl has stayed here until now, the third bed in the room has already seen 3 patients come and go. They are women who get admitted with "small" pregnancy problems which are, after being monitored for a day or two, then sent home. Although I am happy for them and most of them have been pleasant I am now hoping for that bed to stay empty until I leave the hospital myself. Although it might be entertaining at times it gets exhausting having to adjust to a new roomie every second day. Especially the last girl turned out to be a whiner who continued to complain about being here and who did not seem to be able to do anything without her of course he had to be lovely husband. At times I was on the edge of screaming: "You complain about about being here for 2 days? Well, take this: I have been here almost two weeks already. Bed ridden. While YOU are still able to walk around, get your own coffee AND shower without having to sit on a chair like an old lady. PLUS you are two people and a husband. I am currently three. Without a husband. Do I win?! I don´t think so, my love." She pushed my patience to the edge but then she was told she could leave the hospital, I threw an unemotional: "Nice" in her direction and with that the whining was over. Thank God.

As it is with hospitals most of the time, and in my case, doctors monitor my process and can not really give me an answer as to whether I will be able to go home before I give birth. I am aware that in a day - two days- a weeks time everything could change again, leading to a new era of IV´s and tycolisis. Secretly I am also hoping to be able to stay here, knowing that my mothers nerves are still too fragile to cope with a very pregnant me coming home. I know that a big reason as to why I am better is also that I have stayed in bed only commuting to the bathroom. The bad side of being in bed all time: it slows your bloodstream down. On sunday I wanted to shower but the nurses could not find the chair I need to sit on. Deciding that I wanted my hair to look nice and therefore against the advice to shower a day later when the chair was most likely to be found I was completely knackered. The whole day. It was shocking. Quickly jumping into the shower?! No such thing here, people.

So here we are. Twins are doing fine, happily kicking against my abdominal wall. The next ultrasound is sheduled for tomorrow. Stay tuned and keep enjoying your personal mobility of being able to jump into the shower, going outside to grab a coffee or magazine. I am miles away from doing such things and ready for another round of pregnancy nap now. "Every day counts", as they like to say here. I am counting the days, weeks, ???, until a whale size body will hopefully shrink, swollen legs will turn back into normal size, faces, and feet and arms will no longer appear on screens but in front of me. Until then: Tata!

32 weeks of belly and me.

On bravery

You don´t need to look far, reach out far, try the extreme to experience bravery in any sort of way. You find it in the little things. It is the tiniest act which can be overlooked easily. 

It is the friend who looks you in the eye, listens and cares for you.Who comes and sits with you knowing that just being there will make a difference. For now. For the moment you are in. 

It is the family who supports you no matter what just happened. Who sticks together, cares for one another - no matter what road life just took. Prides are swallowed, quarrels secretly forgiven, bridges crossed. What you need right now is in their power. It lies in the unconditional love from the ones who have been there all along the way.

It is the boyfriend who comes to see you every day after work. No matter how tiering the day was, no matter what mood he is in. Who sits by your side, holds your hand and shows you that you are not alone in this.

Finally it is in woman who already tries to be the best mother she can be. Who goes through minutes, hours, days of worrying and caring eventhough she is months, weeks, days from giving birth. Although she has never seen your face her heart and mind are only focused on you, your health and happiness.

Bravery. It is is in the big and small. In the loud and quiet. In the give and take. It is in the staying and not leaving. In the listening and suppporting. In the love you give, in the time you spend, in the actions you choose to make. For yourself. For the person you love and care about.

Tiny acts of love and passion and courage and life. Easy to overlook but powerful beyond imagination.

Bravery.

31 weeks - plus 2 -

NORMALLY this post would have been written on a day - most likely a morning - while my mother would be at work. I would have had the house to myself, sitting in front of my laptop, coffee in one hand, a good youtube cover blasting in the background. I would have written about 31 weeks of pregnancy, my fears, doubts and dreams.

It is still morning. There is indeed coffee on the table in front of me. But NORMALLY has become a very vague term since last thursday when I felt sleepy and exhausted  - which is not very unusual if you are carrying around almost 40 20kg of fetus - , went to bed with a book and was found unconcious by my mother minutes - seconds - ??? - later. 

What had happpened? Up to this point I can only remember pieces, moments, seconds. It was my day off but I had already done my lesson plan for the next day, I had written a post on 30 weeks, I had looked up the opening hours for the local swimming pool as I wanted to waddle my way down there later. After lunch I felt tired, I laid down, I started to read, then felt increasingly tired. I still remember that I started to cough and felt like I could not stop until breathing got harder....The next thing I heard was my mother yelling and screaming in front of me. Funny enough my very first thought was that something had happened to HER and she needed help. When I woke up my pants were wet. Our hero neighbour - the only number my mother could remember at the time - was already there, ready to call the ambulance, ready to help. My mother told me that I was gone for minutes, that my lips had already turned blue. Then, all I remember is pain. Incredible pain. The statement to multiply your period pain by a hundred is true.  THAT`S what contractions are like and yes, they are a killer. The ambulance arrived and took me away- With the sirene blasting all over all  I could think of was: "I am not prepared. They are not ready. I am not ready. Their room is not even ready yet. It is too early. It is too early." Then again pain. 

Although being 15km away we reached the hospital in what seemed like a matter of seconds. Minutes later I was surrounded by doctors and nurses, midvives and a panicking mother. Somehow I remained calm. I know now that I was still in shock, not being able to grasp what had happened. My godmother arrived. Again, one of the only contacts my mother could remember. I was being monitored and examined. I had heavy contractions but my uterine orifice was ok. An IV of tocolysis was able to control my contractions and  hours later I was transferred from the labour ward onto the maternity ward. Around me there was talk about my blood group being available, people were puzzled as to why I had collapsed, more blood was drained, I got handed a document on c sections but at 9pm we knew I was ok and not ready to be a mum yet.

One crazy roommate and two very nice ones  - who were unfortunately transferred to a new room yesterday -  two nights of heavy contractions first unable to control due to a "lovely" range of side effects caused by the first tocolysis later I am now still here -  writing a post while waiting to be taken to see a professor who will do an ultrasound. With currently no contractions on the horizon I feel pretty happy although I have gotten to know things can change in a matter of hours in here.

Being bed ridden, days evolve around IV´s, ultrasounds, being wheel chaired to the labour ward in order to get my daily dosis of  cardiotocogram, doctors and midvives and the hottest topic of all: CONTRACTIONS!

The twins are currently 31 weeks and 2 days old. If I had to have a c section now they would most likely be ok and survive but in terms of fetal development it is still too early for them. I do believe the hospital here would be well prepared for the case but they would most likely still need support and the risk of handicaps due to being born prematurely is too high. "Every day counts", as they like to say here.

31 plus 2. Since I got admitted to hospital pregnancy has become vunerable and something unpredictable. You read about twin pregnancies being risky, while at the same time you are surrounded by stories where it all went ok. You stay in there, tiny dancers. Your mum is a fighter and is getting ready for you to arrive but do me the favour and stay in there a bit longer.

31 weeks of belly on the maternity ward