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"Imagine you're actually in labour"
That night-
We spent hours at nans, talking, laughing, eating, eating a lot (my nans a feeder). At around 6pm my sister Jenna and I decided to go home. In the car we talked about what we could eat for dinner forgetting we had just stuffed our gobs with ‘blue ribbands’ and Rola cola- classic nan buffet.
I declared that sam and I WOULD be having a takeaway curry tonight because I deserved it after my exhausting day! The pain in my pelvis had pretty much disappeared and I couldn’t remember the last time I had discomfort from it. The giggles had worked- instant pain relief just by visiting Nanny.
Jen was extremely jealous of my suggestion of a Friday night curry so told me that she was staying for dinner. By this time Sam was home from work wondering where on earth I had been. I told him that my pelvis had been giving me grief all day and we went to visit nan. “Imagine if all this pain meant you were actually in labour” Jen said. “Don’t jinx it!” Sam shouted.
We had our curry and after, the three of us slumped on the sofas with our bloated food baby tummies.
“Right I’m going home to shave my legs and tan” Jen announced. God, if only I had that freedom of shaving my legs I thought.. the effort was just too tiring these days and fake tan? Pah! What was the point?! I already look like a round orange.
Jen left after many hugs and bump love and I decided to get a nice hot shower.
I actually shaved my legs! If my sister was keeping up appearances, then so was I I wasn’t prepared to let the side dish. I wasn’t going to be the fat pregnant beast sister with the overgrown leg hair. The procedure was pretty messy. Balancing myself on the side of the bath with my left leg cocked up on the opposite side whilst I attempted to reach over my ridiculous sized bump to scrape the thorns that were now growing from my legs. I can honestly say I was out of breath after one razor stroke. I spotted the chipped nail varnish on my toes and carefully thought about sorting those out but sod them- that was far too much effort! Shaving was bad enough!
I contemplated calling sam away from his washing up to help his baby mamma out but I couldn’t actually get myself into a position that would look appealing enough for him to want to shave my legs. I looked like an exhausted orangutan hovering over the bath tub.
The legs were silky smooth, hair was washed, body was smelling of Johnsons baby bedtime, I had started using it for the boys to get used to - babies can smell through the womb right? Sam had ironed my Jamas and left them on the bed and opened a corner of the duvet ready for me to roll in- I was ready for bed!
I could hear that Sam had locked up and was in the bedroom watching something on the TV. I was wrapping myself in a towel but for some reason my legs were still wet?! I’d dry my legs and then seconds later they were wet again. I couldn’t understand what was going on.
I’m not the most intellectual and my common sense is pretty poor sometimes. For some reason I convinced myself the shower water had been trapped up there in my bits and had a delayed reaction and emptied. The whole gravity concept had gone out of the window in my brain. I ignored the stream of water running down my leg and walked into the bedroom. My fresh and pressed Jamas were put on in an instant but as soon as they were on the legs were soaked.
“Ermm babe, my pyjamas are getting wet!"I said
"What do you mean? Have you wet yourself?”
“No water keeps running down my leg and it’s not stopping” I replied.
“Well out some new pyjamas on and get into bed”
Were we really ignoring what was going on? Were we really that stupid?
I did exactly that, I pulled out some pyjamas that weren’t freshly ironed and put them on.
“It’s happening again, I think it’s my waters”
That whole sentence changed my fiancé into a cool, calm and collected man to a 100mph lunatic!!! I have never seen sam move so fast.
Due to my excitement, mine and the boys hospital bags had been packed since I was 20 weeks. Luckily everything had been done so all we needed to do was get the bags in the car. I stood and watched my deranged fiancé collect towels and flannels and place them across the seats of his car. Bin bags went in the footwell just in case I leaked over his new dad wagon.
“Where are the bags?! Babe!!! What are you doing? Get in the car!”
My hair was wet, I needed to dry and straighten it. I sat in my dressing room and dried my hair, put on my makeup and clothes whilst Sam “leaking pregnant lady” proofed his car.
Sam phoned Jenna to tell her my waters had gone. Eventually, he got through after three missed calls to her.
“You don’t deserve a phone!! You never answer when it’s important, Sara’s waters have broke”
“Oh whatever sam” she bickered and my sister actually put the phone down on him!!!
Sam just stared at his phone in shock, he rang her again..
“I’m serious, her waters have gone” he shouted
There was a short silence
“Really? Don’t mess about with me Sam, are you telling the truth?”
“Yes!!! We’re going to the hospital now Jen” sam replied.
They agreed that Jenna and her boyfriend (also a Sam) would meet us at the hospital.
I had no pains, no contractions, no discomfort just a leaking lady bits and I had absolutely no idea what was happening.
After finishing getting myself ready for hospital ;) shouting at sam to calm down and then be hurried out of the house into the car we were on our way to Heartlands hospital.
Half way down the road and the petrol light flashes up. Five miles left in the tank. We had to fill up.
“Babe, can you get me some chewing gum please and a ribena… oh and some crisps?” I asked
“Are you serious? We need to go”
But of course sam came back with my picnic once he had paid for his petrol.
Heartlands hospital was
(To be continued)
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Maternity leave..
29th July 2016
Today was the day, I was finally leaving work to start maternity. I had woke that morning feeling extremely uncomfortable- my hips and pelvis were killing to the point I had to roll myself and my bump out of bed. The pain gave me more reason to believe that leaving work today was the right decision by Dr Das. He was right, I had done too much and I wasn’t listening to my body. I was in agony but I had been hiding it for so long. I decided to get a taxi into work, I just wanted to feel as pampered as possible. I got myself a sausage sandwich and decaf coffee and headed into work to tell them my news. I was so nervous and I did feel upset too. I could not fault my management team and colleagues. They all had looked after me like a princess during my pregnancy. Probably more for the fact I looked like a weeble wobble from day one so I was a health hazard but their kindness and support had been wonderful. Knowing I was having to say goodbye for a year made me feel so sad. I went straight to my managers and explained what was said at my hospital appointment and that today would be my last day at work. They were all so lovely and even suggested I go there and then but I was determined to work my last day. Throughout the day the pain in my pelvis got worse and trying to do my job and work through the pain was starting to strain. I had worked to 2pm and my body had just given up. My hormones got the better of me and I burst into tears, not just because of the pain, More because of the tiredness. I was absolutely done in, I had probably walked 100 steps the whole day but I felt like I had ran a marathon. My manager kindly let me go home so I decided to call my sister to come and get me. She works only two minutes from my work place and she was over the moon I had called her. Yep, my pain meant half a day at work for her- cheeky mare! We decided what I needed was cups of tea, chocolate biscuits, my feet up and stories so what better place to go than our lovely Nanny’s. I was greeted at my nans with hugs, hot water bottles and the dream of tea and biscuits- heaven! The relief of putting my feet up and resting was the biggest weight off my shoulders (or maybe my feet). Knowing I didn’t have to work a day again for year was pure bliss.. maternity leave had started!! Six weeks of being a fat lady of leisure was commencing…
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Last scan....
On the 28th July 2016 I went for my 30 week ultrasound scan at Heartlands hospital, Birmingham, to check on the growth of my twin boys. Everything went perfect and my fiancé Sam and I were told that both boys were healthy, wriggly and over 4lbs each in weight. In previous scans one of our boys ‘Billy’ was always smaller than his brother 'Harley’. There had been concern for Billy’s growth before which was common in twin pregnancies for one twin to be smaller. It seemed at this scan he had caught up and no doubt scoffed on the copious amounts of ice lollies, oranges and ham and cucumber sandwiches I had been devouring for weeks before. Because I was pregnant with twins I was under a consultant at the hospital. At my 30 week scan I met Consultant Dr Das for the very first time. It was hoped that I would be cared for during my pregnancy by my midwife until the later stages. However, my midwife 'Jenny’ was very much absent throughout. I explained to Dr Das that I hadn’t seen or spoken to my midwife since I was 12 weeks pregnant as she ignored my phone calls, messages and appointments. She was constantly on annual leave (so her voicemail said) and I was very much alone if I faced any problems. I hadn’t warmed to 'Jenny’ from the beginning especially when I asked her if there was a possibility I could be pregnant with twins (I suspected from the start) she replied:- “You don’t want twins, you’d want to kill yourself” and laughed at her own “joke”. She was a matron type style of midwife (old school if I can say) who talked over me if I had questions and dismissed me once she found out I was moving to a different area. It was agreed by my doctor that I could stay with the surgery whilst I found my feet in my new home but as soon as 'Jenny’ found out I was moving out of the “posh” catchment she couldn’t be bothered with me. I went through my story of 'Jenny’ with Dr Das who was completely horrified and apologised on her behalf, he then arranged for a new midwife for me to rely on in my last few weeks of pregnancy. I was told I had six weeks left until they would induce me and we would finally have our little boys :) For me,this was amazing news , I had two more weeks left at work until my maternity leave kicked in and then a month (I thought) to sit on my bum, rest and watch nothing but re runs of Jeremy Kyle and actually make myself 'get bored’. “You’re still working!!?” Asked Dr Das. “Yes” I replied. Dr Das showed a look of concern when I told him I worked in retail and on my feet for most of the day. My management team had been fantastic and always made sure I had plenty of rest and cups of tea :) but if I’m really honest I was struggling at work. “My dear, you need to stop working now, I don’t think you realise. You are a high risk pregnancy.. you should have stopped work weeks ago. I will give you a letter to give to your boss that will start your maternity leave as of today. You should not be on your feet especially in the condition you are in with your pelvis”. At 22 weeks I developed 'pelvic girdle pain’ or 'SPD’ which meant I had a weakness to my pelvis from the weight of my babies and pregnancy. I found some days that it was very uncomfortable to walk and my feet would swell up like balloons. I was given a belt to try and hold up some of the weight of my bump but I just found it too loose and actually didn’t give me any extra support. I was told by a midwife in delivery suite (I had rushed in with agonising pains) to book in with my 'community midwife’ for some physiotherapy. 'Jenny’ being 'jenny’ didn’t answer any of my calls so I just had to grin and bear the pain for the remainder of my pregnancy. When Dr. Das told Sam and I that I was “high risk” we were extremely confused- what on earth did that mean? No one had told me about the complications of a twin pregnancy?! The risks to me and the risks to the boys. “You are not experiencing the same as a single baby pregnancy. Yours is far more complicated and you are dealing with double the issues. You are a short lady too so the weight is going to cause you discomfort. It’s time for you to rest” said Dr Das. I couldn’t believe I was being told all this now! If I had just had a reliable midwife maybe I would have relaxed a little instead of proving to everyone I could cope and be this superhero twin momma! I had only read books about twin birth and when they arrived, not the actual pregnancy. I presumed I was the same as every other mother. We talked about my birth and whether or not I wanted an elective C-section or natural birth. I asked to try for a natural birth (again trying to prove my super strength) so it was agreed i would be induced on the 15th September. Nerve wracking, but the MOST exciting news in the world- we were so ready. Well, the hallway still needed plastering but in six weeks we could have the house looking like a palace before the BIG day! Meeting Dr Das was wonderful and for the first time I felt like I had a great support. We met his team of midwives who were ringing around to find me a midwife, antenatal classes, talking and laughing with us and making me feel like I’m no longer alone. After the usual blood and wee donation they took from me (again), Sam and I left the hospital so excited! We couldn’t wait to meet our little boys. The 15th September- awww it just made it so real! My little boys birthday (or soon to be their birthday I should say). I felt terrible because I knew I was leaving work at such short notice but I couldn’t wait to leave and relax. Sam suggested I phoned work in the car there and then to tell them I wouldn’t be coming back in but we agreed that I would work the next day so I didn’t leave them in the lurch. After that, I was a free bird - a free MOMMA bird.
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A little bit about me.
I’m Sara, I’m 27 years old, a fiancée to Sam and a mommy to two beautiful twin baby boys.
This is my story..
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