Spark Notes

I have zero clue how to start this one other than by saying it will be a word vomit post with a synopsis of everything I went through in my pregnancy. This is where it all begins so that I can hyper focus on other topics that came up and that I want to share. Here goes nothing…

I found out I was pregnant on Father’s Day weekend. Friday afternoon, after grabbing lunch with my mom, I stopped at Walmart to pick up developed photos and decided to grab a mega pack of tests because I just didn’t feel my period coming on. I did not think I was pregnant, but looking back I talked to my facialist, best friends, mom, and Tan all about how my skin was so clear and how I wasn’t cramping and that my period was due that weekend. In hindsight it seemed odd that I was so hyper focused on it even though I truly thought there was no way I was. I peed on the stick and hopped in the shower. That’s how you know that I didn’t think it was positive; who just takes a pregnancy test then doesn’t have the urge to look at it for the longest 3 minutes you have to wait. Well, I hop out of the shower and a second pink line is staring me in the face. Pretty sure I said, “no no no no” and started gut laughing, the kind where you are almost heaving. I had 3 hours until Tanner was getting home from work. I called my friend and decided I would tell him by putting “how to tell your boyfriend you’re pregnant” in the search engine on google. We had just bought a house and were always signing 8 million documents so I figured I could easily get him on the computer to get it done. He gets home, is equally as shocked as I am, but said “we’re going to have the best life” and that’s a moment I will never ever forget.  

Fast forward to Tuesday when I went to the OB. She ordered a blood test, but basically said that most pregnancies don’t end in a baby and that it could be chemical, I could miscarry and that the at home tests are so crazy sensitive that they will pickup non pregnancies. I was bummed. Felt like she was basically saying I wasn’t pregnant. Fast forward again my blood tests back and I am 100% pregnant. My HCG was super high (lol shocker) and we calculated my due date based on conception. I knew the exact day I got pregnant, more on this later…

Now anyone who has been pregnant knows the fun waiting game of the first ultrasound to see if there is a heartbeat. For those who don’t, you have this waiting period between the time you find out and 8-10 weeks when they will have you come in and see if there is a viable heartbeat and really start the measurements to see where you’re at gestationally. The days leading up to the ultrasound I kept saying, “what if there are two” to which Tan replied, “yeah right”, my mom replied “wouldn’t you be so lucky” and my OB said “nobody says that they wonder if there is a heartbeat or if it’s a boy or a girl”. Well I get probed and within two seconds the ultrasound tech goes “well there are two heartbeats!” cue gut laugh, belly heaving. The damn ultrasound images were bouncing all around on the screen because I could not control the crying / laughing that was going on. It was incredible. 

The next few weeks were horrible. I got covid at 9 weeks pregnant at my twin reveal with my best friends, we had an ultrasound show an increased NT on Baby B who was looking a bit smaller in growth and were told we needed to get another ultrasound 2 weeks later. At 12 weeks, the NT was even larger. They told us there was a 1/5 chance the baby had one of the big 3 trisomies: 13, 18, and 21 (down syndrome). Dr. Google told us that most babies with the more severe chromosomal abnormalities don’t survive pregnancy and that in some cases it could be potentially dangerous for their twin. Another blood test, and another waiting game resulting in a negative blood test. Phew, right? Nope… they said that wasn’t definitive enough and that we should get an amniocentesis. We scheduled that for 18 weeks, my birthday weekend. I had the most ginormous needle jabbed through each layer of my body until it made its way into Baby B’s amniotic sac where a ton of fluid was pulled out and sent for testing. Again, we waited. 14 days later we get a call. A micro deletion had been detected, but all and all there was no real reason to worry. 75% of the time this comes from a parent and is not even detected. We would have to look at the babes heart and development once they were born, but for now all is good.

At this point I am 20 weeks. I head to yet another high risk ultrasound appointment. One of the many blessings of twins being high risk is you get to see them every few weeks unlike traditional pregnancies. Glass half full? Anyway, the Dr. says my cervix shrunk a bit (from 4.5 to 3) and the babies amniotic fluid is a little high. Being a petite human, I was getting pretty big and was having some aches and pains. I was also getting what I believed were fetal rolling movements. He wanted me to come back in later that day if I could and hop on a contraction monitor, just because. Well, I was having contractions every 2-3 minutes, what I thought were baby movements were actually full blown pre labor contractions. They assured me I would be ok, they prescribed me Procardia, which was a calcium channel blocker, but worked to relax uterine contractions. It was the start to the weekend and I felt like something just wasn’t right. I didn’t think the medicine was working. I called my high risk MFM on a Friday night and he said he would tell anyone who calls more than once in a day and is that worried to go to triage at the hospital for peace of mind. 

That Saturday, October 16th we walked into Hoag, still optimistic it would be a quick fix and back home we would go. I didn’t leave that building until December 24th and went back every day until February 10th. 

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. I received a bolus of magnesium sulfate to stop the labor contractions, hooked up to IV machines (who later will be referred to as Juan Pablo), and was moved down to antepartum. This is where they try to keep people pregnant. This is where we met the first of our trio of night nurse fairy godmothers, Linda. Where we learned the value of an egg crate and where we unknowingly call “home” for the next 10 weeks. 

I was able to shower ONCE that entire 69 days. I watched every single Great British Baking Show episode and ate multiple bowls of oatmeal every single day. It was a wild wild ride. I could only stand up to go pee and the heat from the combo of pregnancy and mag had me in a bra and shorts while everyone who entered the room were bundled up like we were in Antarctica. Every few hours, blood draws, reflex checks, blood pressure cuffs going off, heart rate monitors yelling at me for taking it off. Then came the Indocin, then the Benadryl, then a pessary, then no more internal exams. Dynamic cervix, irritable uterus, blah blah blah. The days were long the weeks were fast.

Then December 20th, I had this excruciating pain on my left side. It was unexplainable, they didn’t think it was a sign of labor, they checked me to make sure it wasn’t an issue with one of my placentas. Sent me back downstairs and all was well. Until 4:44am December 21st. Baby A said “enough is enough” and my water broke. In the 10 weeks in Antepartum, we knew people came in and stayed for weeks with their water broken. Just monitored for infection and ready to go up and deliver when necessary. We figured that would be us, what’s a few more weeks? Wrong. Our doctor called at around 5:30am and said we were having these babies within the. Next 24-48 hours. It didn’t take that long. Two hours later and I was in excruciating pain, the labor contractions hit hard when they stopped the magnesium, took out the pessary and injected me with the remaining steroid doses. 

By 9:54am, we were parents to two beautiful, tiny little miracles. A boy and a girl, Bennett and Frankie.

That’s it. The long winded, wordy recollection of my pregnancy. Cheers to motherhood.