However, even my personal Mr. Snuffleupagus could not prepare me for the Crazy that is a twin pregnancy. For anyone who has experienced a multiples pregnancy, has multiples in their family tree and therefore periodically freaks out that they might someday carry their own set, or is currently pregnant with multiples, this post belongs to you.
The Top 6 Things About Twin Pregnancy That Have Blown My Mind
1. Just breathe.
As I said before, my first baby was huge...and was also breech for the final two trimesters. Even having his 98th percentile noggin crammed up into my rib cage did not remotely compare with how breathless this twin pregnancy has left me. Starting at around 20 weeks, the need to throw my hands up over my head and suck in air like I'd just completed a triathlon became a regular occurrence. At 30 weeks, that sensation progressed to a constant lack of breath. I am a classically trained singer and I know how to dig down deep for a lung-filling, rib cage expanding, gloriously full breath. If I tried to do that right now, sitting down at my kitchen table, I would absolutely pass out onto my navy damask rug.
Literally never being able to entirely catch one's breath combined with walking anywhere for longer than 5 minutes equals nearly fainting on a regular basis. If you ever see a bountifully pregnant woman leaning with both hands against the Cheerios shelf in the cereal aisle, don't be alarmed. Gently ask if she needs help to find a seat, or sympathetically smile and keep shopping.
2. Artificial intelligence.
For unknown reasons, seeing a large pregnant belly just brings out the stupid in some people. I've had some truly special conversations with strangers in Target, patient waiting rooms, public restrooms, you name it. This topic deserves its own post, so for now I'll highlight maybe the most common question mamas pregnant with multiples hear.
After determining that yes, I am carrying twins, I am often asked,
"Are they natural?"
Well, they certainly aren't artificial! And frankly, asking about mine and my husband's sex life isn't appropriate conversation for the check out line.
3. Twin fascination.
Will you dress them the same or color code them?
Are they identical or fraternal?
Will they share a room?
Do twins run in your family?
Are you going to pick rhyming or alliterated names?
Etc, etc, etc.
This part is actually pretty fun. Every pregnant woman endures their own set of hardships while growing a baby, and it is admittedly nice to be fawned over a bit. BUT, I am already formulating sassy answers for the bombardment of twin questions I've heard I'll get once the twins are out in the world! A girl's gotta make fun happen for herself sometimes.
4. Stuck.
I would venture to say that most pregnant women encounter interesting situations with their third trimester bellies. It's common to think you can fit through a smallish opening only to realize you must find a new route, knock something off the edge of a table with your bump, or decide that an adjustment to the driver's seat might be necessary if you want to continue driving the family minivan. Twin bellies take things to a whole new level. Now it's not a matter of inconvenience, it's a matter of actually becoming stuck. On more than one occasion I have had to repark my car at the store after realizing I cannot squeeze myself out of the opening my car door leaves without doing serious damage to the neighboring vehicle. Even better, a few weeks ago I somehow ended up wedged precariously between an inward-swinging public bathroom stall door and the toilet bowl.
5. No really, stuck.
This is perhaps the biggest adjustment I've had to make during my twin pregnancy. After Week 32, I rapidly became immobile. I am writing this post at 36 weeks, and for the past month I've spent a good 80% of every day sitting on my hiney with my legs propped up or lying down on the couch with a generous helping of pillows. That might sound like heaven to the working set, but it is slowly driving me insane. No TV because my 19 month old son doesn't need the screen time, so no binging on Hulu shows or Redbox Rom-Coms. No tackling laundry, dishes, or any of the other cleaning that desperately needs to be done around the house but I physically cannot do any longer. Lots of sitting around playing Bubble Witch Saga and Wordbrain on my phone. Lots of browsing articles and websites on how to keep twin newborns alive. Quick showers (only when someone else is home to be safe) so I don't pass out and take down the shower curtain. Short and physically painful but gloriously freeing trips to the grocery store or out to lunch or to the pool. Don't get me wrong, I am incredibly grateful that I haven't been placed on official bed rest either at home or in a hospital room like many moms of multiples are. But the fact that my body has effectively put itself on bed rest is mind-boggling to me.
6. I get by with a little help from my friends.
This final revelation has been, hands down, the most difficult for me. I am more prideful than I like to admit. I relish accomplishing things completely on my own. I place far too much of my identity in what I do and the quality of how it is done. Over the past month, that has been completely stripped away from me.
I physically cannot care for my son on my own right now. I can't pick his sweet, very large toddler self up, which means I can't put him into his crib or take him out for naps. I can't put him in his car seat to leave the house. I can't even hoist the child into his highchair for meals. And I certainly cannot get down on the floor and engage with him in the boisterous, imaginative and high energy way that he needs. Not forgetting my husband - I also can't stand long enough to cook dinner, wash dishes, do laundry or share childcare responsibilities at night or on weekends when he is home and needs to relax a bit.
I have three tremendous graces helping my family stay afloat right now: my husband, my mother's helper, and my own mother. A freaking amazing former student of mine is spending 14 hours per week of her college summer break playing with and caring for my son. After only 4 weeks, they already love each other and she is pure magic with him.
My husband is the most selfless, tenderhearted individual I've ever had the privilege to know. He comes home from long work days to make us dinner, play with our son, take care of the whole toddler bedtime routine, and then cater to his ridiculously hormonal wife until he falls into bed exhausted. He does this every day without complaint and with a loving heart.
My mother might as well be Mother Teresa. That sounds like quite a hyperbole, but it's who she has been to me over the past several weeks. She is in my house 5 days per week, whenever my mother's helper is not here, taking care of everything I can't. She has done countless loads of laundry, endless sinks full of dishes, miles of vacuum cleaning, and she somehow finds time to encourage me and play with her grandson. She is my hero.
And then there are the sweet friends who come over for play dates and clean my kitchen or bring a meal simply because they love me and know I can't do those things right now. I am so fortunate to have a community of people around me who care about my family and love us so well. But that love has been so much harder to receive than I'd ever expect! I want to be independent. I want to take care of my home. I want to pick my son up off the floor when he has wiped out and is sobbing. I want to serve my husband and let him know how highly I value him. I want to be strong, self-sufficient, creative Tori. I want myself back.
So here are the lessons I've been slowly and stubbornly learning through my twin pregnancy:
Always have your eye on a few good spots to stop for a lean or sit. If you see stars, sit down NOW.
People say stupid things. Most of the time they don't mean to. Formulate a rightfully sarcastic response in your mind if necessary, but let what comes out of your mouth be kind.
Soak up all of the excitement people bring you about your babies. You'll need those feel goods during the more frustrating moments of pregnancy.
Don't try to use a normal sized stall in public restrooms during your third trimester. It won't go well.
No, really. Unsanitary contact between a public toilet and your cankles is not worth it.
And perhaps most importantly, no man is an island...and no pregnant woman is a superhero. Don't try to do it all yourself. Receive the help and love that people offer with a grateful and humble heart. You'll be able to pay it forward someday, and let's face it, you need it!
