Baby A: Megan, born 8:05am, 5lb 5oz 18"
Baby B: Lindsey, born 8:06am, 5lb 11.5oz, 19.25"
I became very disenchanted with the idea of doing a vaginal delivery when I was told that Baby B was quite a bit bigger than Baby A. She was also breech (Baby A was vertex). We scheduled the c/s based on this information. I was told that I could back out if Baby B went vertex. I did not seriously entertain the possibility that she would do this. The morning of my c/s, we found that she was, indeed, vertex. The doctor kindly told me that we could cancel the whole thing and shoot for an induction, but the induction might not happen that day. For some reason, the idea of backing out at that point did not appeal to me. The thought of backing out AND being induced at a later date, when I had no signs of labor whatsoever at 37w6d, was especially not appealing to me. So I went ahead with the c/s.
I've decided that having a c/s sucks. I got this horrible spinal, then a sheet was placed in front of me, my arms were pinned down, and I waited. Soon I heard a baby crying. I thought, that's my baby, ok? Feel something! But it does not come. The first thing I said was, "Is it a girl?" [sidebar: That is what we believed, but my mom had me all paranoid that she might be a boy. Long story, won't bore you with it.] They brought her to me and stuck her in my face, supposedly so I could kiss her, but I was not feeling it. My husband was jubilant, practically skipping on air and videotaping everything he could. The people in the OR said she was beautiful. I thought, "whatever, you say that to every baby." Baby B came seconds later, and again, I only wanted to make sure she was a girl. Mostly I felt ridiculous and powerless. This was supposed to be a joyous moment, but I was not joyous at all.
Pictures were taken, video was shot, and soon I was wheeled into recovery. I felt utterly bland. I wanted my babies already (at least I had that much presence of mind), but I also wanted antihistamine, and lots of it. My face was itching like a mean motherfucker. They gave me a dose, and I asked for another. When I asked for a third, they switched me to benadryl. Benadryl lasted me about 3 hours and I was allowed to have it once every 4. The first 24 hours after birth, all I could think about was benadryl. I could not stop touching and rubbing and scratching my face. It was madness. I also wanted to cry very badly. I also shook.
Recovery in the hospital was fairly grueling. We were interrupted approximately every hour by either a doctor, a nurse, nurse's assistant, or someone who wanted my menu for the next meal. When our sleep was not being interrupted by any of these people, we were tending to our newborns. Looking back, I really think we should have used the hospital nursery so we could have gotten some sleep. More than anything, that was the necessary ingredient to making it through that first week.
Now, our lives are falling into a rhythm with our twins. Every so often, the rhythm interrupts just to remind us how challenging this is going to be, but overall, we are overjoyed by these girls. They are beyond precious, beautiful and special.
Day after birth - Megan is on the left
20 days old - Megan still on the left