Hey, everyone. It's me, Julia. You might not know me, but I'm a 17 year old mother to twins. Yikes.
I just gave birth on Sunday, and here's the story. I cut out parts to shorten it. I don't want to bore you.
~ ~ ~
I sat on the couch, watching Say Yes to the Dress with my boyfriend, who had fell asleep within the first few minutes, when I felt a kick. "Aw," I thought, giggling to myself. But they came again. And again, getting more and more intense, until I was shaking my boyfriend and said the those two words:
He jumped up, confused. "Are you sure? You've been having Braxton Hicks, and..." He looked into my eyes,and we sat there. He put his hand on my stomach, and in minutes a contraction came, more painful than all the rest. He hugged me. "What do we do?"
Hello? I thought. You're asking me? He should have known. Call the midwife, get the birth pool ready, help me! I told him, and he rushed to work while I timed the contractions on the couch. Suddenly it hit me: I was about to become a 17 year old mom. It couldn't be happening. I also remembered that this was a good time to tell my parents I'm pregnant, who hadn't known, because we did a pretty good job of keeping them away, making excuses, but they needed to know. They needed to help.
I had my boyfriend call them, but he put me on the phone, and my first words were, "It's happening." Then came the conversation about how disappointed they were, but they realized there wasn't time. It was true. It's happening.
I had contractions for a long time, and they were really bad. When I went to the birth class, the teacher said, "Their just a little worse than the cramps you get when you have your period." She had to be joking. Those cramps don't make me scream, bawl, or want to die. I just wanted these babies out, but I knew it would only get worse.
I timed contractions, trying to take my mind of off the pain, but nothing worked. Finally, the birth pool was ready and I stepped in. It was magic. It didn't make the pain go away, of course, but it was better than suffering on the couch.
"I have to push!" I yelled, holding my stomach.
"No! You're not fully dilated," my midwife said, putting a washcloth on my head.
Just so you know, NOT pushing is as hard as sneezing with your eyes open. She told me to pant, and we looked ridiculous, but it helped.
After more contractions that got closer and closer, harder and harder, my midwife said, "Ready to pop these bad boys out?"
I didn't laugh.
I Have To Push.
"Are you serious?"
"Yup! It's time to have some babies!"
"You're just about all the way dilated."
And soon- BANG! Unbelievable pressure. "I have to push."
My midwife laughed. "I just told you that."
"Or I have to poop."
Things happened in fast forward. Everyone was around me, holding my hands, taking pictures, comforting me, telling me to push.
The things I learned in birthing class flew out of my mind. "How?" I whimpered.
After a mini birthing class, I was all ready. I ducked in my head and pushed. "Is anything happening?" I whispered.
She just told me to push, and soon after she said, "Give me you hand." She put my hand 'there'. I gasped.
"Tyler!" I yelled his name. I pushed sronger, and then comes...
Ring of Fire
It didn't last long, but it was pretty bad. I stopped pushing and simply screamed and panted, hands on my stomach, watching it move up and down.
Tyler was here.
"Ryan?" I whispered to my boyfriend.
"I'm a mother. We're parents. Oh my God." I laughed.
"He's amazing. I love you."
Bliss for a little while, until things were happening again.
And then, it was done.
"You did it!" Ryan yelled.
~ ~ ~
So that's my birth story. The babies are great and I've been loving every minute of it.
Last night I asked, "Want to get me pregnant again?"
He laughed. "When?"
It embarrased me, but I want to be pregnant again as soon as possible. I felt so pretty, so powerful, and I could eat as much ice cream as I wanted and not feel guilty. He said, "Shhh. You need to heal. You just gave birth to two big boys. Don't you remember the screaming and the 'I hate this!' and the pain? You want to have more kids?"
"And I read that you're 80% more likely to have twins again. We're 17. And you want to have 4 kids?" I blushed.
But girlies, help me out. I honestly want more kids. Is Ryan right, though? Will I have more twins? Help, ladies, and thanks for reading.