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The Perfect Fit

There are a lot of things in life that pair perfectly together. Peanut butter and jelly. Pen and paper. Wine and cheese. You get the idea. But, if you've been reading this blog since the beginning, one thing is clear: my body and procreation do not pair well together.

With science on my side, we have (almost) prevailed. I'm pregnant, despite my infertility issues. The babies have stuck it out, even with all the roadblocks: multiple hematomas, placenta previa, major bleeds, three emergency visits to Labor and Delivery, and countless long nights filled with worry and tears.

At 30 weeks, the twins are thriving. Most of the issues have resolved themselves and the biggest shock these days is the size of the babies. At over 4 pounds each, they are both measuring 2-3 weeks ahead. A rarity with twins, but not with Krieg babies. They say these last few months the babies will triple in size before birth. I'm gonna hope that's not true. Otherwise I'll be birthing two 12+ pound babies.

NOPE!

My body has already taken a hit. I've gained 15 pounds. My belly button is gone. I've officially got an outtie, something that didn't even happen with my last pregnancy. I thought I had escaped the stretch marks thus far, but in the mirror last night I discovered that I have big bright purple marks down below the bump (where I can't see without a mirror) across my entire c-section scar. I think the babies are trying to bust their way out.

8 weeks left kiddos. Slow your roll(s).

The only complication left to address is something called Placenta Accreta. Basically, it's where the placenta fuses to my uterus. The irony is not lost on me, considering that we spent the first half of this pregnancy worried about the blood clots causing a placental abruption (where the placenta detaches from the uterus) and now the biggest concern is that the exact opposite has happened and placenta may refuse to leave when the time comes. These two clearly have a love/hate relationship. If they have fused, when they try and remove the placenta, there is a chance my uterus won't clamp down and I will begin hemorrhaging. Like two star crossed lovers, they will refuse to be parted and attempt to take me down with them. While the doctor thinks he's detected this possibility on my ultrasounds, an MRI is what is needed to be sure.

After a chat with my high-risk doctor and a prescription in hand, off for an MRI I went. I arrived to find they wanted me to lay on my back in a machine. The technician had never heard that pregnant women can't lay on their backs. After staring at him like he was from Mars, I explained to him that I get super nauseated and feel like I'm gonna pass out if I'm forced to lay on my back. We decide to try it anyway, with me tilted on a bit of an angle. After an awkward five minutes of attempting to get me in the perfect position, we discovered another thing: my pregnant body doesn't pair well with an MRI machine.

That's right folks.

Perhaps this is karma. As I left for the MRI, I jokingly told my husband "I'll see you in 2 hours, or 15 minutes once they realize I don't fit in the machine."

Nailed it! The realization was met with panic as the staff tried to convince me to immediately drive to Palmdale to see if I could fit in a different machine.

I have about 2 inches left before my belly no longer fits behind my steering wheel and there is no way I was driving to Palmdale at 3 p.m on a Friday in hopes that I would fit in their other machine. Against their wishes, I left. I put a call in to my regular OB to see how necessary this MRI really was. He's much more laid back than my high-risk specialist. And it's worth mentioning that he is the one who will be performing the c-section. So for me, he's the one who gets to make this call.

I pleaded my case and my OB agreed. The MRI isn't necessary. Apparently the MRI can confirm the accreta but you never actually know what's going to happen until you're on the operating table. He made sure I was aware of the risks. If I do hemorrhage, I'll need blood transfusions and an immediate hysterectomy. Not ideal, but I think my poor uterus has done more than its fair share of work in this life and I plan to retire the old gal after this anyway. The baby-making factory is closed for business! Sure, it would be nice to keep all my lady bits intact and make recovery easier. But when have we ever taken the easy route in this saga? Ultimately, whatever needs to happen to get these babies out safely and to keep me alive is a-ok by me.

No matter what, I know these twins are going to be the perfect pair. I can't wait to see how they fit in to our family. Lloyd is beyond excited to become a big brother and even got sibling certified at the hospital this week!

It's crazy to think in a few short months this complication plagued pregnancy will be over and I'll be worrying about more important things, like which bottle of wine I want to open and how the hell I'm gonna keep all these tiny humans alive.


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