My twin delivery story

Let’s go back in time a little bit and let me tell you about my twin delivery. Starting, off course, with a good-old disclaimer that any other (twin) delivery may be vastly different from mine and that I am by no means saying that this is how every twin delivery goes. This is how mine went, purely anecdotal.

After I was put on couch-rest at 30 weeks pregnant, I half-expected to go into labor every single day. Nothing was less true: I somehow (thank God) made it all the way to my induction date at 37 weeks + 3 days pregnancy. In the Netherlands it is common practice to get induced with twins between 37 and 38 weeks of pregnancy, for safety reasons, but also because a twin pregnancy becomes pretty difficult near the end. The babies are considered full term at 37 weeks so the risk with inducing labor at this time is very low. Anyways; we had to report to the labor and delivery unit of the hospital at 7AM in the morning.

It was the strangest feeling to ring the doorbell at L&D without feeling any signs of labor. With my previous labor I had been having contractions for over 12 hours before we went to the hospital. This time around I rang the bell feeling absolutely nothing. They welcomed us and showed us our room, Daniel pulled our carry-on stroller with all our stuff, it pretty much just felt like we were going to a hotel. After we were ‘checked-in’ to ‘our room’. The nurse said “Welcome, you may now put on your delivery clothes and I will be back in a minute”. I looked at her, it did not occur to me that I had to take a special delivery outfit, but apparently the shorts I was wearing were not very suitable. She was right off course, there was no use for my pregnancy shorts as they would first break my water and I would be leaking fluids continuously. Luckily I brough a sort of dress that I was actually planning to use afterwards, but I put it on and waited for the nurse.

After they broke my water we waited, the goal was to wait for an hour and if no contractions had started at that point that they would start giving me hormones. Daniel and I chatted, I walked around the room. We called the nurse several times because all the monitors kept making beeping sounds – they were trying to track the heart beats of the babies and my contractions with three different monitors, but because I was walking it kept interfering with each other. Other than that, nothing happened. We watched some Brooklyn 99 (what later became our favorite episode), tried out the tv. Called the nurse because we couldn’t get the tv to work. Turns out you had to press the buttons harder. After about two hours of hormones I started feeling contractions, and they intensified really quickly. At 10 I felt nothing. At 11 it became intense. At 12 it was very intense with contractions coming every 1,5 minutes and lasting for about a minute. Yes, that means there is barely any break.

I asked for my pain relief options. During a contraction she explained the different options. I could not focus and have no idea what she said. By the time the contractions were over she concluded with ‘or you could try taking a hot shower’. I looked at her, blank eyes. ‘Sure, I will take a shower’ I said. Mostly because it was the only option I heard. With a lot of effort I made it to the shower, took off that dress (while still being connected to many monitors) and sat in the warm water stream. It did not help very much. After 20 minutes I told Daniel to please call the nurse and tell her it was not working. She came back. Firmly she said. “OK, we can give you an epidural but you have to dry off and go back to the bed first”. I did what she said, as well as I could and ended up on the bed. The doctor started explaining all risks of the epidural to my husband while the nurse said ‘I think we should check her one more time’. They checked me and yep, I was 9 cm. The doctor stopped talking to daniel and said “I am sorry, there is no time for the epidural”. My eyes probably doubled in size while I said “WRAAAAH Is there anything you can give me?!” the nurse said “we will give you some paracetamol”. I felt some relief. Paracetamol was something I guess.

After a little longer they told me to start pushing. I was scared. I was scared of the pain. The ring of fire that I heard about. Scared for the head to come out. Some pushes I tried to push hard, pulling my knees into my chest, some pushes I barely did anything because of the fear. Funny enough, when my daughter came out, it actually hurt far less than the contractions did, which was a huge relief. She came out beautifully, in between two contractions I basically wiggled her out with my hips (I did not know that was possible) and they laid her on my chest. She was perfect. While they rubbed her off and Daniel cut the umbilical cord they got out the ultrasound machine to check the position of her brother. He was still breached, head to my left side butt to my right side. I had heard before that turning the baby would be necessary. They turned the baby. I was told that would hurt, but honestly, I didn’t feel any pain and I actually barely remember that they turned him. Then they told me they were going to break his water. They took my daughter, gave him to my husband and told me “you can start pushing again”. I looked at her “What?! Already?”. Two pushes later (one fake one because I was exhausted, and a real one) he slid right out. It didn’t hurt. He was perfect. They put him on my chest and asked me if I wanted to cut his umbilical cord. YES I DO! I was so excited. This was a unique moment. His umbilical cord was very thick, much thicker than his sisters, and cutting it was strange and amazing.

Now I still had to deliver the placentas. You can push again, they said. “WHAT?! AGAIN?!” I said. But luckily both placentas came out easily. Then they had to just quickly stitch me up while I was holding both babies. “Distract meeee” I shouted to Daniel, because the lack of epidural definitely made the stitching a lot more painful than in my last delivery and he quickly showed me another piece of Brooklyn 99. Three minutes later it was over. Babies were born, placenta delivered, I was all stitched up and we were ready to go. Well, not quite, but at least everything was good. The babies spent a couple hours in the incubator (is that what it is called?) because they were both a little cold. After some hours they were moved to normal beds with hot water bottles and we spend a night in the hospital just for convenience. The next morning we went home. With two babies. Our hearts full. Exhausted. But oh so blessed.