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

30 week milestone

30 is the new 36. At least for twin mums and at least according to my gynaecologist who I went to see this week. During my marathon of check ups which latest addition are cardiotocograms to measure the twins heartbeats, movements and possible contractions he told me that the "pleasant" side effects of pregnancy I am going through right now usually would not occur until 36 weeks. 36 weeks if you would only carry one child. Not two like me ~ the giant whale who finds less and less clothes in her closet that still fit and who managed to break a desk chair this week.

Oh boy, I am with you Dr. S. Never before in my life has my body given me such distinct signals telling me when and where to stop. Before, I was often able to push myself, somehow ignore pains and tiredness and sickness. Not this time. Not a chance. Not with the scale showing 75kg. I still try to do as much as I can but exhaustion usually gets the better of me these days. 

Another funny and on going thing this week are ultrasounds. Last week when I went for my first session of birth planning at the hospital I chose to give birth in the ultra sound they did showed a rather worrying discrepancy in terms of weight and height between the twins. The doctor was far too busy to did not comment on this any further but  too late: the worrying number had already entered my head and was not willing to leave. I mean it did not really shock me as over the past weeks this process had been noticed and monitored, I wrote about it here: http://twolineslater.blogspot.com/2011/08/24-weeks.html, but ever since I found about it I became very mum like and it had worried me. Since then it was like a new shot at gambling every time the doctor squeezed half a bottle of lube on my belly and turned on the ultrasound. Would we win this week? The big jackpot?! Had my little girl put on more weight? Was she on the same level as her brother now? Although the process got monitored regularly since I got back from China so far no jackpots answers were found. 

Now when I went to see my gynaecologist this week he first listened to my concerns, then showed me entirely different but very much more positive results on his ultrasound. Well now...Who to trust and believe in? I left the office feeling somewhat relieved and confused. Two days later, although the results only being valuations, I decided to trust in his results a bit more. I mean the man currently resides in my top 5 of favourite men in my life. The hospital doctor? Ehm, not so much yet. Sometimes it is just easier to choose sides, then stop worrying whether the other side would have been better. Unfortunately the gamble is not over yet. Tomorrow we are back in gamble land when the doctor specialized in this field will yet turn on her ultrasound to tell me what numbers she has to offer. 3 ultrasounds in a week?! Should I consider myself lucky?! I don´t even know how to feel about that now. Well let´s see what tomorrow brings. 30 weeks. High five to myself. 

30 weeks.

Me + you= we, broken hearts & waiting rooms

You hold my hand and with that simple gesture right now in this very moment me and you turn into we and I no longer need to feel alone. Me + you = we. All the way up to graduation I always disliked math but this one is easy to get and much more approachable than the usual shenanigens. 

When you look at me I know we are in this together. The words coming from your mouth tell me so and I believe in them and you. I believe cause I have always believed in people until life showed me that sometimes by doing so you are in the wrong ~ that sometimes you believe until dreams shatter and rooms fill with shock, anger and pieces of a broken heart. 

I listen to Jason saying that "the goal is just to stay happy and creative and flued to keep [...] out of that dark place and more fully in that humble space", and I close my eyes.  When I wake up it is all gone. You and me and we and the dream of not having to deal with this on my own.  I no longer hold that dream that I once created. Instead I left it half way unfinished and  boarded the cheapest plane to Germany. 

Reality.

We are changing rooms. My mother is stressed, finds it hard to cope with the change and situation. My Dad looks tired and so am I. Tired and lost. It is a big thing for them - something still unexpected and shocking - nothing anyone ever wanted in life. I get impatient. With myself and them and the situation we are in. With no one to turn me and you into a we I primarily only have myself. I tell myself that somehow we have to make it, that it is too late to give up now, that we survived three months and will survive more. 

A couple of days ago I found myself in the waiting room of a hospital. I was surrounded by stressed to the max, hormonal, emotional, scared women. Pregnant women. Just like me. Oh yes, we are all in the same boat. Except THEY have all seemed to have husbands or boyfriends by their side holding their bags, holding their hands, holding them together. I bit my lip. I tried not to look at fingers and rings and rings on fingers. I messaged my friend and sister, tried out ways to distract myself. I thought of more names cause I still have only decided on one so far. Names. Babynames. Names with meanings. Middle names. Names for my son and my daugther. I am going to be a parent in less than two months. I wondered how I ended up in this moment of my life. In a waiting room. Full of couples and magazines for couples and their babies. 

I hate myself for not being able to pull myself out of this cycle of depression, self pity and the memory of unfinished dreams. 

We rearrange furniture, we get rid of things, we stress out. We know life is more than black and white but sometimes we find ourselves in moments where we can not deal with the shades in between. Not in this moment. And so we run around in circles, we curse, we get sad and disappointed and fed up with each other until a few moments, minutes, hours later we put on a brave face and stick together. We know we love each other, need each other and right now depend on one another to deal with this mess. Me and you = we. Maybe right now not boyfriend wise but family wise. 

A humble place. Luzhou, China - one day after I found out I was pregnant.