Twins always arrive early. Right?
That's An Old Wive's Tale.
I look at my striated belly with the doughy soft puckers that have never flattened back into that gentle swell that used to be my belly. If the twins had been early, I would not have this.
At 36 weeks, my belly was a gigantic, unblemished orb.
I had 1 or 2 stripes at 37.
By 39 weeks, my midwife and I were laughing at the incredible, angry red vortex radiating from my bellybutton. The stripes were something out of a science fiction story. Like the chick pecking the egg from the inside, it looked like my stomach was getting ready to rip open.
At 40 weeks, I wasn't laughing anymore.
In truth, I wasn't doing much of anything at all! Eating, cat-napping, going to the bathroom, and having sex. Lots of sex and massage. In a futile attempt to bring on labor.
For two weeks I tried every over-the-counter remedy and Old Wive's Tale I could find: Spicy Lamb, Evening Primrose Oil, Caulophylum, spicy food, massaging pressure points, squatting, visualization, Raspberry Leaf tinctures and teas. I read about castor oil and shuddered. I was sure of my dates and my first baby had been born 11 days "late."
On the eve of "The Deadline," the last day my midwife was comfortable having the twins be born at home, I called a Resonance Repatterning Practitioner I worked with during my pregnancy. She had helped me overcome all my fears of being pregnant with twins, of being the mother of twins, of having a homebirth and of having a vaginal birth after a c-section (VBAC).
She muscle-checked what I was resonating with. She said, "Hmm. Interesting!
You and one of the twins is resonating with the word 'Stop.'"
She muscle checked what I needed to do, had me do some breathing patterns and eye movements and checked the resonance again. The baby and I no longer resonated with "Stop." I didn't feel much different, but I did feel relieved to have some kind of reason for the extended pregnancy.
The next morning, I made an appointment to have acupuncture to stimulate labor. My midwife came to check on me and left. The babies were head down, with strong heartbeats, and active. I felt about the same: Restless, impatient, huge and ready to give birth.
15 minutes after she left, the first wave hit me. Then another, and another. Contractions one on top of the other. My husband held me through them for awhile until we finally realized we should probably call the midwife.
She was surprised, and asked, "How far apart are the contractions?"
He said, "I don't know, they've been coming so fast, I haven't had a chance to time them!"
She reassured us, "I'm on my way back! I'll have to call my husband to bring my kit." It took her about 40 minutes to come back and her husband arrived with her kit shortly after.
The rest of the day is a blur now. The pain was intense and I kept running from it. She and my husband kept bringing me back into focus. By 6:00 pm I was allowing the pushing contractions to do their work and working with them.
Steven was born at 6:35 and Angela slid out, still in her caul, at 7:05. The two babies looked very different in terms of gestation. Steven was 7'10" He looked plump, fresh and covered in vernix. Angela was 6'0" and had very little vernix. Her skin was wrinkled and peeling.
It is still a mystery which twin wanted things to stop! Did Steven want things to stop because he wasn't ready yet? Did Angela want things to stop because she was still so tiny?
I have never forgotten the way the repatterning worked. I learned the system and use it regularly in my work with parents and in my own life.
The family tale is that Angela kicked Steven out because she wanted to stretch and she was ready be born. After birth, Steven cried inconsolably until she came out. Maybe he cried because he wasn't ready to be born or maybe he missed being plastered up against Angela and thought she was gone forever. I still don't know, but they are very close, still good friends and still have that dynamic of pushing and pulling each other.