It's been a long few weeks of bedrest. I apologize for the lack of updates after last week’s appointments, but with no progress and everything looking the same, I was feeling defeated. The blood clot remained despite the strict bedrest. Even my "gorgeous cervix" had tanked. It dipped from 5.6 to 3.4. Still a respectable number, but they weren't thrilled to see it thin so quickly in less than a week. And let's be honest, about all I have left going for me this pregnancy is my gorgeous cervix and sparkling personality.
I spent another week horizontal. It's boring. I'm sure I'll long for these days once the twins arrive and I never get to sit down again. But for now, it's difficult to miss so many of my son's activities. Play dates at the park, Tae Kwon Do, even a trip to Target would suffice. Not to mention, with this growing belly, it's hard to get comfortable. Just rolling over in bed has become an Olympic event.
People have been spoiling us. Dropping delicious meals at our doorstep, sending thoughtful gifts, adding us to prayer lists. We are loved, and it's palpable. But I still miss my independence. Plus, thanks to this meal train, my kid and husband have caught on to the fact that some people make spaghetti using real noodles instead of spaghetti squash, and that there are other kinds of rice than just the plain brown I serve and that these things are indeed way more delicious.
Yesterday, we saw my regular OB. He is the calm, reassuring one who always makes me feel better about things. My husband and son joined, which was oddly exciting. My first time out of the house in a week and my boys were with me. It was a family outing! Lloyd was excited to see "his sister" and we reminded him there is also be a brother in there, something he knows, but could not care less about. He waited eagerly in the lobby talking non-stop about how he can't wait to play with "Baby Sister.” Poor Baby Brother is going to need therapy before he even leaves the womb. He can officially hear us now with his tiny ears. I imagine his amniotic fluid is salty due to all the tears he must shed every time he's mentioned second ... or not at all.
They lead us back to a room. After patiently waiting in the lobby, and another 10 minutes in the exam room, he could barely contain his excitement when the babies popped up on the screen. They were feisty, as always. The Doctor pointed each out to Lloyd as they punched and kicked across the screen.
"Tae Kwon Do!" Lloyd shouted. "They do Tae Kwon Do!!!" He then began to run in circles around the tiny exam room punching the air and shouting "Hi-Ya" until my husband escorted him out.
The doctor reassured me that everything looked good. The babies were clearly thriving and he said he felt I could start adding in one small activity a day to my routine. Modified bedrest. Things were sounding promising. But he reminded me that the specialist, whom I love but have begun to nickname Dr. Debbie Downer because I always leave in tears, may not agree. I made a mental note not to ask my specialist about bedrest the following day. This way I wouldn't be going against his orders, rather, simply following the instructions of my regular OB.
On my way out of the exam room, the Doctor asked if I had a daycare or preschool lined up for Lloyd in the fall. I cheerfully told him he was enrolled to go twice a week, half days, beginning September. My sweet, kind and calm Doctor looked at me worried and said "No. You are going to need more help than that. You are coming home with two babies. You can't handle twins and that."
Gesturing out the hallway as he said "that." I could hear my son laughing and causing a scene in the lobby. He's probably right, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it.
This morning I met my high-risk specialist, Dr. Debbie Downer. He was surprisingly positive. I can't fault him for being a man who tells it like it is. He cares for his patients and I appreciate his honesty. I just always leave crying. However, I am happy to report my cervix has officially regained the "Gorgeous" title, back at a thick 4.65cm.
Baby A, who used to be the runt, is now measuring in at one pound, seven ounces - two ounces bigger than her brother! That, paired with their enormous head size, has them each measuring two-to-three weeks ahead of schedule. The blood clot is still there but looks "Different .... Good Different."
I don't know what that means, but I'll take it.
He even suggested I try adding in one small activity! If I don't bleed or cramp, then I can do it again the following day. This is progress, people.
Proof of my progress? He's not going to see me for two weeks! As someone who's been going weekly to each doctor, it's nice to hear I'm off the short list, that they aren't so worried they need to see me weekly.
I'm feeling elated. I'm feeling hopeful.
I'd jump for joy if I was allowed.
In other news., My children are ADORABLE. Look at those tiny profiles.