Today is Mo and Bo’s 4th birthday. Four years ago today, I was sitting in the hospital waiting for my c-section. An hour later, I was holding two beautiful babies– miracle babies. I thought I’d share the story… since it is their birthday and I haven’t ever told the story of being pregnant with twins… grab a seat and stay awhile.
We tried for a long time to get pregnant. I knew I was suffering from PCOS – Poly-cystic Ovarian Syndrome. I had all the classic symptoms– high cholesterol, unable to lose weight, lack of periods– all the textbook symptoms. We knew it wouldn’t be an easy thing to get pregnant. When we decided to begin trying, I spoke with my gynecologist and she immediately put me on Clomid. If you have never been on Clomid, it is a pill you take at a certain time during the month and it is supposed to cause you to ovulate, therefore increasing your chances of getting pregnant. I did the basal body temperature charts– starting with the oral way and then moving down to the more “direct” way. I had no spike in my temperature… the Clomid wasn’t working.
My doctor suggested visiting an infertility specialist. We made the appointment in January– we couldn’t get in until April! Meanwhile, in desperation, I decided to scour the Internet for a “cure.” I came across this website selling herbs for PCOS… they claimed you would begin ovulating and would be able to get pregnant. I shelled out $450 for these 20 bottles of herbs. Every day I took my 20 pills… and guess what? I started getting the spike on my chart! But, for some reason, we still weren’t getting pregnant. I even fell back on Old Wives’ Tales… putting a baby’s diaper underneath my side of the bed to help.
April came and I went to the fertility specialist for a consultation. I was sitting in his office and he had to leave for a few minutes to speak with someone. I was looking around his office and there was a card on his window sill from his children. He had two boys and a girl. His boys’ names were Jeffrey and Michael. That was my brother’s name. I knew I was going to get pregnant. He came back in and we discussed the various tests I would have to have and what the process would be. We decided to begin right away.
The following week, I went in for a series of blood tests and a hysterosalpingogram (HST) test. Basically, they shoot dye into your uterus to determine if there are any abnormalities or blockages. I am not going to lie– that test was painful. Thankfully, there were no major issues. After talking with the doctor, we decided to go ahead and do Assisted Reproduction Therapy (ART). ART involves taking Prometrium to bring your period, Clomid to make you ovulate, and then a trigger shot to release the egg for ovulation. Meanwhile, during the entire time, you are having daily internal ultrasounds to determine the correct time for the trigger shot. I was also put on Metformin due to its history of helping women with PCOS regulate their insulin levels. We decided for the first round of ART we would try to get pregnant “the old-fashioned way.”
So, my days were filled with ultrasounds and pills. I received my trigger shot in the mail. I went for an ultrasound and the nurse said to give myself the shot that night and Baby Dance for the next three days. That night, I went into the bedroom to give myself the shot. (This is the girl who is petrified of needles.) I pulled it out and read the instructions. I jabbed it into my stomach and shot the medicine in. I thought to myself, “this isn’t that bad.” And, then couldn’t get the needle OUT of my stomach. Needless to say, I freaked. I am an accountant, not a nurse, I didn’t know you had to pinch the skin to pull it out!
We didn’t get pregnant the first round.
The second month came and we started the process again. This time, we decided to have an intrauterine insemination. Without going into details, basically the Hubs did his part and I came later to get my part. I remember lying on that table after they did it and had my legs up in the air trying to keep everything in and just praying and praying it would work.
Two weeks later, I got a positive pregnancy test.
Three weeks after that, I began to miscarry. I was devastated.
The specialist suggested trying again immediately… his reasoning was we know I can get pregnant, we just have to get it to stick. A month later we tried again. I remember when he was doing the IUI he told me he added glue this time so it would stick.
And, stick it did.
Three weeks later, I peed on a pregnancy test. It immediately turned into two lines.
Three weeks after that, I was shopping for maternity clothes.
The same week I outgrew my regular clothes, I had an internal ultrasound to check for a heartbeat and to see if the pregnancy was viable.
We were in the darkened ultrasound room, the Hubs was sitting beside me while I was in the stirrups. Here comes the doctor and an intern. They asked if I would mind if the intern did the ultrasound and I said no.
They began the ultrasound and I heard the intern with awe in his voice, “There is two.”
I said, “What?!”
The doctor took over immediately and showed us the two blobs on the screen– both with strong heartbeats.
He then said, “Let’s make sure there aren’t any more in there.”
I came off the table and replied, “There better not be!”
The Hubs and I were in complete shock.
We wanted one and God gave us two.
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