Lately, I seem to be writing about anniversaries or birthdays. Who knew so much went on at the beginning of the year?
Twenty-three years ago today, I was in labor. It was a Saturday. I can picture the snow on the ground, not freshly fallen but piles of it that I had shoveled from storms since Christmas. You see, the twins turn 23 today.
The doctor had told me, regardless of a February due date, I would have those babies around Christmas. The disability from week 26 on seemed to have worked as those two liked where they were and were not coming into the cold, harsh winter any sooner than necessary.
The day was not the quiet planned birth I had anticipated. The day quickly filled with yelling. The doctor was in surgery but wanted an ultrasound done. One of the twins had been breech. Was she still? The nurse was screaming that taking me to radiology would guarantee I delivered babies in radiology. Who knew I was that far along? A portable x-ray and I was put out. One twin still breech, the doctor was taking no chances and did an emergency c-section.
My first memory in recovery was the nurse telling me that Baby A was 7 pounds, 15 ounces and Baby B was 5 pounds, 11 ounces. I told her, in a groggy state, those couldn’t be my babies. I had twins.
Happy Birthday, #2 and #3!!!!!