When I found out I was pregnant the man and I were super excited.
9 weeks later when we found out it was twins, we were excited, nervous, anxious, and had no idea what to do.
Then the boys were born.
My pregnancy was fairly normal, except I was pregnant with twins. My belly quickly began to grow, and grow, and grow. It looked like I took a beach ball, and shoved it under my shirt.
6 weeks before my due date things were normal. I woke up early, I was full of energy, and feeling great. Around 10 my mom asked if I wanted to go shopping with her. Hell, I had 6 more weeks till the boys were born so I said sure.
When I got out of the shower my water broke. I freaked out. I had no idea what was going on. Since I was staying with my mom (I was high risk, Greg was still in the Marines then, we figured it would be safer for me, and the babies if I stayed here in case something like that happened.) I yelled for her.
What did she ask me? “Why did you pee on my floor?” o_0
I didn’t pee on her floor.
After a few quick, and panicked phone calls (I can still remember Greg asking if I was sure than his happy shouting, the shouting of the men in his unit and him running back to the barracks) we were on our way to Magee. Of course I am my mothers daughter, so like her, we stopped and got something to eat on the way there…eating in the parking lot. (She did the same thing when she was in labor with me.)
By time we got to Magee it was about noon, maybe 12:30. I was feeling GREAT! My dad and two of my brothers met us there, and things were fine. I thought other women were crazy for saying how painful labor was.
Then the contractions started. At first it was a slight twinge in my lower abdomen. Nothing more than a strong period cramp. Then…oh then the back labor started. The. Worst. Pain. I’ve. Ever. Experienced. It felt like someone was trying to rip out my f*cking spine. After some very strong instance, i.e. me telling the nurses to get me into a f*cking room or they could deliver the boys right there in the waiting room, I was in a room. The contractions slowed, I got an epidural, and I was okay. Greg still wasn’t there, but there were no signs of the boys showing up, so I was okay.
Then BAM. MAJOR contraction, and I knew it was time. I didn’t want it to be because Greg was still heading up from D.C., but it was. I had to argue with the nurse in charge to please check, because the boys were coming. She swore up and down that wasn’t possible and I was panicking.
Oh, I wasn’t panicking. They very quickly got me to the OR, and things were started.
I won’t even get into the med students. I’m still not happy about that nor am I happy with the doc who delivered my boys. I hop that crotchety old asshole is retired. And I hope someone just rams an entire arm up his rectum (since he has no vagina) and keeps it there for 20 minutes while ignoring him.
But, my boys were born at 8:00 pm and 8:05 pm. Greg made it to the hospital at 9 pm.
And here we are 4-years-later. My babies aren’t babies. They’re big boys now. I can’t believe it has been 4 years. It doesn’t seem that long.
So, here we go…off for my babies 4th birthday party.