tWinning

Never, in my wildest imagination, did I expect to have twins. When my 2 year old daughter

answered if there was a boy or girl in mommy’s tummy with an immediate “two boys,” I promptly told her that wasn’t possible and to guess again. My early belly was because it was my second pregnancy; the never-ending morning sickness was different, but normal. The total paradigm shift came at the 20-week anatomy scan.

The image of two babies brought me to tears. I spent the next three days in shock, the following weeks in a haze as my entire world tilted. Twins…how was I going to manage? When I planned for my second child, I was so confident in my ability to raise two children, but a toddler and twins?! So I researched: called people I knew with twins, read countless intense preemie stories and c-section births. I mourned the loss of having a home birth. I found a doctor who specialized in twins with high rates of vaginal births. She was even willing to let baby b come out breech, a practice many doctors refuse to do. I kept seeing my midwife and did my best to accept that I would be having my babies in the operating room.

In most hospital settings, you see a team of doctors. My first check-up appointment with a different doctor from the team came about a month before my due date. This other doctor was a bit older and casually told me that they would use forceps or a vacuum as necessary. While this is probably normal in western obstetrics, as a naturopath-midwife loving mama I flipped out. I left the appointment in despair and immediately called my midwife, asking her if she thought we could do a home birth. My midwife, who had caught over 2000 babies but had never done twins, said she felt called to do so for me. She got a team together and came for a home visit four days later. They toured my space, felt my belly, and talked about what the risks were and how to manage them. The highest risks are to baby B, because they are in limbo longer, and me, because it is not a question of if I would hemorrhage but rather how much. One of the midwives, Sara, looked at me with a twinkle in her eye and said, “I’ve got a good feeling about this.” I was bolstered by her confidence. For the next few days I prayed that when the time came, the decision would be clear. I would know what to do without a doubt: have the babies at home or have the babies at the hospital.

Seven days later my water broke. I let our birthing team know. I was scared, but decided to start laboring at home. An hour later, my first contraction came. In the next 30 minutes, I had two more contractions and then almost suddenly my contractions started coming every 2-3 minutes. I knew at this moment that I was going to have my babies at home. My partner was frantically updating our team while also supporting me through each intense surge. Our doulas arrived close together but our midwife had gone MIA. She wasn’t returning calls or texts and it was becoming very obvious that baby A was on the way. Amidst the chaos, I felt a deep calmness and absolute trust that I had exactly what I needed. My team thanked me for the vote of confidence but agreed to call the paramedics for extra support. The ambulance arrived within 5 minutes but just before they did, the other midwife, Sara, arrived. She walked in the door, put on a pair of gloves, and Eliot came shooting out ready for the world. I looked down at him and then to my partner, my heart bursting, and said, “I’m really doing this! I am having my twins at home!” This realization bolstered my resolve, fed the power in my veins and the courage in my heart. I would get Baby B out like a motherfucking boss. And that is what I did. I talked calmly with Sara, making conscious decisions about changing positions to break his water and pushed to get him out. Rowan was born 1.5 hours later. After expelling the placentas, I hemorrhaged and took all the interventions offered, Pitocin, fluids, and manual pressure to expel the clots. Through it all, I felt the most alive, the most aligned and the most powerful I have ever felt in my entire life.

The paramedics had patiently waited in my living room for 2.5 hours until I was in the clear.

They never once came into the bedroom. My midwife eventually made it after both boys were born. She had fallen asleep and her phone had stopped working (both things that had never occurred before). And you know what, I think that was exactly how it was supposed to be.

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Abby is an intuitive bodyworker from a family of storytellers. She is drawn to the essence-of a story, of a belief, of all that we are and how that is expressed through our human experience. Learn more about her bodywork at https://www.attunebodywork.com/