Dear tiny babies, I am writing this to you from my hospital bed and it’s just turned midnight so I am officially 32 weeks pregnant with you three. I can feel and see you move on a daily basis. I have been trying to capture it on camera but you three have a sixth sense and usually stop rumbling when the camera clicks on. I thought I had plenty of time left to try but turns out I don’t. As I am penciled in for a cesarean on Thursday morning, June 20th. I feel guilty to admit I had been desperately hoping for such news at my scan today. I haven’t been coping well and have been utterly miserable and useless in the last few weeks.
When I first found out there were three of you I was adamant to get to 36 weeks, and I even considered fighting for a natural water birth. But in the end I decided to pick my battles and chose breastfeeding. I plan to breastfeed to you three, as I have and still am feeding your big brother, on demand and for as long as you’ll need it. So I was hoping to keep you cooking for at least 34 weeks so you would come out able to feed at the breast from the start, and hopefully you wouldn’t need to stay in NICU for a long time.
My pregnancy with your big brother was pretty enjoyable, even in the end when pelvic girdle pain in my back was making life much harder I was able to cope with it pretty well and enjoy my time before he was born. But I am not coping very well with this pregnancy. The big difference of course is that there was only one baby in my belly then. I got all the way to 41 weeks with Babel, but at week 30 with you three I already felt 45 weeks pregnant.
My hands and wrists have been suffering from carpal tunnel for months and the constant numbness and pain (how do they even co-exist… weird) make it hard to even type this. I have an abdominal separation (diastasis recti) of 12 finger widths which is making my back hurt. Edema in my feet has been a constant for months as well, but in these last few weeks, it has gotten really bad. It doesn’t go down anymore after putting my feet up, and even scarier, my ankles, legs, and even knees are now hugely swollen as well. This makes moving torturous and nearly impossible, yet moving is what’s important to fight the swelling and the blood clots. Also, my balloon legs made me weirdly scared my skin would burst open if I tried to bend my knee.
But the SPD (Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction) version of pelvic girdle pain is what has really defeated me this pregnancy. I have had this for a long time now and it has taken more from my abilities with each passing week than anything else. It started just being very painful, but then it took my ability to turn over in bed, then my ability to get my legs onto the bed, then the ability to even lie down without pain (bye bye nights in bed), then the ability to walk without crutches, then the ability to sit on chairs, then the ability to get my legs into a taxi (to take me to hospital), the ability to get my legs into the tub (to take a shower), and these last two days it even took away my ability to sit, sleep, or simply be in the reclined chair in the living room, my last place of comfort left.
Someday ask your daddy and big brother how much I have been crying and moaning over the last few weeks. Sure, I am very hormonal, but also very miserable. I haven’t been useful at all. Papa has been doing any and everything around the house, and in taking care of Babel. Also parents and friends from nursery have been helping out loads with the nursery runs and in helping entertain Babel when I couldn’t. The kindness of these people has really amazed and humbled me, such lifesaving angles, all of them. Your big brother has been kind, considerate and understanding beyond his age himself. I am so grateful for all of this.
I had been looking forward to today’s scan because I was fantasizing about a section date. Many triplets in the UK are born between 32-34 weeks, and they do well, so I knew it could possibly happen soon. When I Ieft for the hospital, I found out our building’s elevator is broken and we live on the fourth floor. I had to go down the stairs with my crutches and debilitating SPD. Don’t ask me how I did it, and thank the universe that I didn’t fall down the stairs. But getting in the taxi was horrific and the ride itself was murder. I cried the whole way to the hospital, and frankly scared the poor driver, he tried to get me a wheelchair, but sitting down is much more painful than walking with crutches. I walked into the hospital and they quickly noticed my broken state and my unstoppable tears. Lots of familiar friendly faces from my frequent visits to the hospital this pregnancy came to help out and comfort me.
Scanning me has become technically very challenging now, as maternal discomfort is extreme (quoting the doctor from my scan notes). To my huge relief the doctor agrees that delivery now seems the best option. Not just for my sake, but also for your sake. Two of you have a tailing in your growth. You’re all active and have normal umbilical artery dopplers and you are coping well with the the situation, but it has become less than ideal to keep you cooking for longer. So the combination of fetal growth and maternal immobility has made the doctor recommend steroids and delivery in 48 hours, neonatal status permitting.
The news was overwhelmingly welcome, exciting and mostly relieving. The photo is me smiling in my hospital bed tonight because I am excited to be able to sleep on a bed again, finally. Also, they had just given me morphine.
The c-section does scare me, I am worried about your health and mine. But I am mainly excited about meeting you three in just two sleeps! These are our last moments as a family of three, it’s a confusing feeling somehow. Whoa baby, baby, and baby: life’s about to change! We can’t wait to see your faces. We love you so much already.