We had our 20-week scan yesterday. The awesome news is that the Pretzels are doing just fine! I, however, am apparently not.
The good news first: The beans are both about 17cm from head-to-bum. We could see their little hearts beating, their wee arms and legs moving, and at one gorgeous moment, both of them on the screen at once, separated only by a thin film. So many legs in my insides!! It’s definitely going to get full in there. We were high on the joy of seeing their wriggling selves.
And then, as I was handed the photos from the scan, I was quietly informed that I had to go to the hospital’s maternity triage area straight away. For future reference: These are exactly the last words any pregnant woman wants to hear. With no show of panic, but a firm sense of urgency, the lab technician explained that my cervix – that under-appreciated girlie bit that connects the other girlie bits – is short. I had to see my OB, who was working the hospital’s birthing floor that day.
The 90 minutes between arriving at the hospital and seeing my OB were quiet. T. and I were shaken by our presence at the hospital, but comforted by the fact that no-one appeared to be panicking. And yet…. what if something was wrong? What does the cervix do anyhow? Some quick Googling helped allay our nerves (a short cervix can indicate early labour, but I was showing no signs), but we were quite abruptly reminded that making it to five months doesn’t assure anything. The thought of losing them… geez. We kept ourselves laughing and upbeat about the situation, but underpinning it all was a fear I didn’t want to confront. How do you even start contemplating such a shattering possibility? I strained to eavesdrop on the lovely nurses who had done the preliminary check-in with us, and just kept reminding myself to not anticipate anything bad until given a reason to do so.
Finally, our OB came in. In a nutshell: My cervix is 2.45cm. The ideal is 3cm-4cm. Even 2.5 is considered okay. But I was a bit too low, and they needed to make sure I wasn’t going into labour. (All signs indicated NOPE!) So that leaves me with elevated rest. No more lap swimming, unless I’m taking it really easy. Definitely no more aquaerobics. I have to limit my physical effort to easy walks, and moderate any other physical work to about two hours a day, spread throughout the day. The few interventions that can be done (such as stitching the cervix – ouch!) don’t help in twin pregnancies, so are not an option for us.
The good news is: No bed rest! The OB says there’s little evidence it actually helps, and could actually trigger more problematic issues like depression and muscle loss. So I can keep working from home, but need to take it easy. Which is going to be a tough one for me, but I’ll be fine. If the nubbins can hold up their end of the bargain and stay in there as long as possible, I can slow down and give them the best chance I can.