Friday, 31 July 2015

Twins are special

Twins are special.

I assumed that people would be blasé about the idea of twins as everything I read states that they are on the increase. The reason for the surge in the number of twins isn't just IVF. Hyper stimulation followed by Intrauterine Insemination is likely to force more than one egg out of your ovaries and thus more chance of multiple births. Also, intriguingly, as women approach menopause their eggs go all lemming-like jumping off a cliff (or ovary) with gay abandon, so again they are more likely to release two eggs in any given month.

So don't just assume that an older mother with twins has gone down the drugged-up, medicalised route that I've opted for.

Despite all this twins are special.

I know this because of the attention that I receive every time people realise I'm not just pregnant but pregnant with twins.

Even from people I wouldn't expect.

As I queued amongst a plethora of other pregnant women to book my next scan the bored receptionist took my referral without even looking up. He started to type in my details when he suddenly perked up. "Twins clinic?! Congratulations."

Three people sent me a link to this twin photo.

Three different people texted me within minutes of The Secret Life of Twins starting on ITV.

No one ever sent me a link to information about single babies when I was pregnant with Olive (or Doug/ Dymphna as she was known then).

Also, a few weeks ago I met a guy in a park.

Not like that you filthy minded bunch.

He was hanging out by the swings with his adorable nearly three year old twins. We got chatting. On the downside he confirmed what I had feared, I will not sleep for at least two years. But on the plus side he has given (GIVEN!) me their now redundant double buggy. It would have cost about £600 new and approximately half that second hand but in selfless display of twin parent comradeship he has just given it to me knowing that every saving counts.

Yesterday I accosted a woman I had never spoken to before and within moments I had got her phone number. She is a mother of twins at the same nursery as Olive and I grabbed her at drop off and asked if I could have a chat with her sometime about twins. To you Americans this might not seem like a big deal but we Brits know you don't swap phone numbers until you have been on nodding acquaintance for at least three months followed by a good six months of weather conversations.

But twins are special.

So we've already got a playdate planned.

And my twins are doing well. I had a scan on Wednesday they are still a very similar size (one pound, two and three ounces respectively). Apparently if twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome is going to manifest itself it usually does so by 24 weeks. The latest scan being at 22 weeks and six days is therefore incredibly reassuring.

My twins are special.



Sunday, 12 July 2015

Non-Bucket List

I turn 39 this week.

A year before the big four-oh (little explanation there for the more mathematically-challenged amongst you).

Traditionally this is the point when people panic and start writing endless lists of everything they want to achieve before they hit forty.

Or before they die.

I've had a good long think about this and decided it is time to be honest about what I am never going to do, either in the next 365 days or however long I have left on this planet.

These were things that I always sort of assumed I would do but have now come to the conclusion I won't, and I am perfectly happy with that.

So here is my non-bucket list:

I will never make it to Glastonbury festival
I won't run a marathon
I'm not going to get a tattoo
I won't grow my hair long (I have done this once before, so I don't know if it technically counts but I have come to the realisation that hair any longer than my chin just doesn't suit me).
I won't do a bungee jump
I will never be fluent in a second language
I am not going to acquire a taste for whisky

But there is one thing I really want to achieve before I turn forty, and now unlike just a few years, or even months, ago it now seems eminently possible.

I want to become a Mother of three.

What's on your non-bucket list?



Saturday, 4 July 2015

Gender Reveal

According to Pinterest I'm supposed to bake a cake with either a pink or blue inside and have a big party where friends and family gather to watching the cutting of the cake and gasp in amazement when they discover the babies are boys or girls.

Let's face it the sex of the babies is only really of interest to the parents and even then its not a massive surprise they are going to be girls or boys. (And don't start getting indignant on behalf of the transgender community at this stage genitalia is the only clue we have).

We told the sonographer we wanted to know the sex right at the start of the scan and spent the next 45minutes waiting to be told what we were having whilst she seemed more interested in minor things like blood flow to from the placenta and checking the hearts had the right number of chambers.

As she went through she told us what she could see and also spoke to her colleague tapping away on the computer behind her. She used exactly the same tone regardless of who she was speaking to say it was difficult to know when we were supposed to respond or keep quite. The more technical terms I assumed weren't meant for us whilst the stating the obvious "and there is the cerebellum - which is used for balance" was for our benefit.

At one point I thought she casually told us the gender as I heard her murmur "and there's two boys", at the same moment the husband heard "and there's two balls" it was only when she pointed them out that we realised she said "and there's two bones [in the leg]".

Right at the end she said with a flourish "And now to find out the sex".

She wriggled around and got one of the babies to give her the money shot.

"Girls."

I know I shouldn't have a preference.

But I did.

I do.

And I am delighted.