January 13, 2009 was hot. I was heavily pregnant with my identical twin boys. I was done. They were sufficiently cooked. I needed to have them, physically & mentally. I had an appointment with my doctor. He had only met me the week before as my usual obstetrician had gone on holidays. My new doc was a nice man, we liked him, trusted him.  

I arrived at my appointment and he very kindly asked me how I was managing. I dissolved. I had not slept well for months, I was exhausted. My body had just about everything revolting about being pregnant happening. I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t lie down, I couldn’t stand up. I could barely walk to the bathroom but I needed to urinate about every 3.5 minutes. I was endlessly ravenous but indigestion was horrendous. I was done. The doctor asked if I was ready to have my babies. I was 36 weeks and four days. I said yes. He did a super quick ultrasound to check both babies positions. Both had been head down for months. Today baby b showed us he had turned through the night and was now breech. It was decided to go ahead first thing the following morning. They would rupture my membranes and take things from there. I had to have an epidural placed but it would not be drugged until I was about 8cm. They needed to have me prepped and ready for an emergency caesarean section with baby b.  

So 6am arrives and we present ourselves to the maternity ward. My doctor has cleared his schedule for the day as it’s not every day a woman delivers twins outside the operating theatres. The baby is very high so only a scalp monitor was inserted thus knicking the membranes  but not rupturing them as they would have normally. I am given an iv and asked to walk the corridors to try and get myself started into labour. I walk. For hours. somewhere during these hours I am given the epidural. Shocking to have someone place a needle into your back. I was tense and that did not help. I was monumentally unprepared for it which surprised me because my husband is an aneasthetist and gives epidurals many times each day. I thought it really hurt. But I had to have it, so that was that.  

The decision was made by lunchtime to give me syntoconin. Eventually my labour began in earnest and I finally felt like I was doing something active to get my babies born. I had a moment where the nursing staff brought in two resusitation bays for the babies, instead of just one, there were two. I was still fully dressed and walking around at this point, maybe staying in denial as long as I could. I just stood in front of these empty beds trying to picture the babies there soon. Willing them to be born safely and calmly so we could start our lives together. It undid me and I stood there with my head in my hands sobbing. My lovely husband just took photos, knowing exactly what I was thinking but not worried at all. He knew I was just processing.  

The pain intensified rapidly but I had confidence in my ability to labour. It did escape me though that everyone else around me was not so confident of the outcome I had pictured in my sweet little mind. So just as I felt I was really getting into labouring, they drugged my epidural. I was paralysed and became a non participant in my labour. It all went on around me. I reached the desired goal of 10 centimetres and was promptly told I was to commence pushing. Why? I hadn’t gone through transition. I didn’t feel ready, it was all wrong. Fake. Not at all how I’d wanted it. I started to cry again. When one of the midwives asked me what was wrong, I replied I felt ripped off, that I had wanted a natural labour, no drugs, if they’d just let me do it I would have been fine. She laughed and answered “Susan, twins and natural labour!!??  There’s no such thing these days. Letting you deliver them like this is as close to natural as you’ll get. Any other doctor would have just sectioned you”. 

I decided then and there to accept the position I’d found myself in, a bit funny now I look back as where was I going if I didn’t want to accept this? So I co-operated and got put up in stirrups, another first. Then I noticed about 20 spectators. Nice. There I am in all my glory. Who are these people and where did they all come from? Get out……! Then I thought “babies five and six, let them see twins be born, show them how women can labour safely and it is not ok to just section everyone with twins” I was on a mission then to prove it to every single person in that room that delivering twins is not impossible and not always dangerous.   

I got right into a deep staring competition with my doctor who saw how distracted I was. “Susan, look at me and do what I say”. I tried but the fake pushing was weird. I’d always just done what my body had needed to do. I’d never really been coached through labour before. But I have to say it worked well. He really knew what he was doing. Once I sorted out a position I could push in it was all systems go. Angus was born without a hitch. He was gorgeous, tiny and with a wonderful set of lungs. There is no sweeter noise than your babies first cry. It imprints on your brain and it cements that bond forever.  

This is where having twins changed everything I had known before again. I had no time with my new baby. A brief hello and sweet moment of contact then he was removed from my arms and I was told I needed to get on with having baby b. A quick ultrasound revealed he was still breech. Darn it. One good thing was that he was small. Most second twins are a little smaller than the first. So, onto the job at hand. His membrane was ruptured and I laughed because we got the doctor and his shoes! Then I was told to push, again. It was silly, I felt next to nothing. I was very aware of the doctors hand up inside me, guiding the baby’s bottom to the cervix. I was aware again of all the people, there seemed to be more. I realised in a brief moment of clarity a breech, vaginal delivery of a second twin was a rare event. The nurse in me wanted them to see it. I breathed deep and tried to focus again on my doctor and only my doctor. About 25 minutes passed. Me pushing but not really getting anywhere. I knew they would section me at 30 minutes. Then my husband who had been my quiet rock said to me “Susan, I can hear his heartbeat, get him out of there. I’m worried”, then the doctor said almost the same thing “Susan, get him out now”. 

So I said to my husband “get the camera”, he was like ‘are you sure?’

I replied with a smile on my face “I can’t see myself ever doing this sort of thing again, take photos, we’ll delete later”. Then I pushed. Like I’ve never pushed before. Stirling was born. Alive and well, deep blue eyes, screaming his lungs out just like he should have.  

My husband and I just stare at each other. It’s done. We have twins and they are fine.