By: Brandy Black
I went into labor 5 nights ago and spent 13 hours in the hospital, contractions 3-6 minutes apart, IV in, breathing steadily through the slight pain, waiting for the big stuff to begin. By 3:00PM, they handed us release papers and told me that I was 4-5 centimeters dilated but nothing more was happening. They advised to come back when my water broke or when contractions became painful and consistent again. My parents were already on a plane expecting to meet their two newest grandkids within 24 hours of their arrival. All had been updated and were sending love. We had to retract the announcements on Facebook to our supportive friends that in fact nothing was happening anymore. We were disappointed. Although it’s always best to let twins bake as long as possible, it was still a tough blow after all that excitement. Not to mention having to endure the whole process all over again.
On the bright side, my parents are here and they have been taking care of us. They sent us out on a date, an uncomfortable one (for me), barely fitting into the booth at dinner and shifting in my seat through Hugo; nevertheless we got a night out. They have been helping to finalize the nursery and assisting with things that we didn’t even know we needed. Tonight, we actually looked at minivans while they babysat for a couple hours.
Minivans. Sigh. I love my Audi A4. I love having a small car and zipping around, but when I saw the three car seats lined up side-by-side in Susan’s CRV, requiring Sophia to duck her head and make her way to the middle seat, I realized: it’s time for me to give up my cool car and embrace the necessity of a family vehicle. It broke my heart a little but I must admit, I think I’m there, I’m beaten to submission by life and have begun to trust that everything happens for a reason and that every decision made since finding out I’m pregnant with twins has actually been a refreshing lovely change.
DVD screens, built in LED flashlights, 3 rows of seats that shift and turn and convert, cup holders in every corner, automatic doors…music to our ears. I think it’s time. I can be cool again in another decade. Sure I’ll be older and greyer and exhausted but our spontaneous trips to Vegas and fast drives to Big Sur will resurface again (I hope).
Now, while waiting for these two lovely people to arrive, I throw up my hands, kick back, and flow with the river while dreaming of dirty diapers, minivans, spit up, tiny clothes, meltdowns, sleepless nights, irrational arguments, contractions, breathing, pushing, and the joy of an abundance of love that will help me through what might be the hardest time of my life.
Sweet dreams. May visions of sugarplums dance through your heads…