The Birth Story! Part One: False Alarms

So here it is, the birth story.

In two parts. 

I'm breaking it up this way mostly because it is long- but also because to me, it really is a two part story.

Bug and Badger were born on March 15^th, but, their birth story begins on February 8^th- a Wednesday.

I hadn’t been feeling “right” all day. Cramping and generally feeling gross.

By the time Bill got home from work I wasn’t feeling any better- so I eventually broke down and decided to call the nurses line and see what they thought.

They told me to come in just to be sure- I felt so silly. I figured they would just send me home. It turns out I was already 1cm dilated (which is not a big deal- you can be at 1cm for weeks). BUT they decided that with both babies being breech that it was too much of a risk to send me home- they wanted to keep me for 24 hours and give me two shots of steroids to help their lungs just in case they insisted on being born.

So, they admitted me.

My cramping got worse during the night and by the time morning rolled around I was having contractions every 5 minutes. They weren’t really painful...more just really uncomfortable, mostly just a lot of pressure.

I ended up having to stay for two nights and most of the third day. There was definitely a point where I thought they were going to make me stay until the babies had come (mostly because they said, "you might be here until the babies come").Thankfully though- they let me go home (on a modified bed rest) to be uncomfortable there.

Physically from here on, my pregnancy would be pretty uneventful (though I would continue to have mild contractions right up until the week they were born...fun!) it was the emotional side of things that got a little rough.

After I got home from the hospital- I didn’t know how to feel. I felt nothing like myself. All I could focus on was all the little things that needed to be done before the babies actual did come. I was so overwhelmed with the feeling that my days were numbered. I felt more and more like I was disappearing inside of myself- floating around in some sort of haze.

My thoughts would constantly swirl out of control. One minute hoping the babies would just hurry up and come and the next, dreading their arrival.

Moments of pure excitement followed directly by moments of fear.

I questioned if we had done the right thing; deciding to get pregnant?

Had I trapped myself into something I was no longer sure about?

I have always wanted children, to be a mother. I had always thought that it was the only thing in my life that I was actually meant to do.

...but, TWO babies?

 At once?

The reality of it all would crash down on me during the most mundane moments. Flooding towards me, un-expectantly, as I watched TV, brushed my teeth or made dinner.

My brain, filling with self-doubt and my heart crushing under the weight of it.

Was I really cut out for it? Was I really ready for my life to completely change? My head would spin with the things that I would have to give up. The freedom I would sacrifice....the identity I would lose.

I would try to talk to Bill- tell him how I felt. Hoping that maybe he felt the same way too. 

Hoping that he too, felt the same lingering doubts and would assure me that they were nothing more than nerves, and that everything would be just fine.

But, I could never find the courage to say the words.

Not really.

His enthusiasm for it all, the way he seemed to doubt nothing; instead of making me feel stronger, only made me feel worse.

Lying in our bed, in the coward-ness of darkness I would whisper to him;

"What if I hate it?"

"You won’t hate it...I hope you don't hate it"

(But what if I do......)

"What if there is something wrong with them?"

"Then we will deal with it" – his voice full of confidence

(I don’t think I could deal with it....)

My guilt only made worse with the realization, that my husband, was a way better person then I could ever hope to be.

Deep down I know that all of this was just nervousness, simply the fear of the unknown. Once my babies were in my arms all of the doubt would wash away. Despite every fear I had, I knew that if given the choice I would not change one thing. That a life where I did not have two babies growing inside me, created with the one person I loved more than I thought possible, would be a life that I would regret not having. 

Right? 

(to be continued...)

25 weeks....still a long way to grow...