We had our first doctor's appointment at Duke Maternal-Fetal Medicine last week on August 12th. Our new doctor is Amy Murtha, and we really like her. We basically just sat and talked with her for a while. We told her who our doctor was in Atlanta and some of the things he told us about our situation. Thankfully, she decided not to drown us in anymore depressing facts and figures, but instead, to come up with a plan to make my pregnancy as successful as possible.
She agreed with most of what the specialist in Atlanta had told us, except for the whole bit about me going into the hospital at the beginning of the third trimester. She said that she was aware that this was normal protocol with doctors in Chapel Hill. However, this was not normally the plan for this practice. Unless I was determined that I needed to be in the hospital or something else happened where it was needed, she did not plan to put me in the hospital for my third trimester. This was the best news I had heard my whole pregnancy!
The plan that Dr. Murtha proposed was for me to come in about every two weeks, to check on the babies and make sure they were okay. She explained that for the next several weeks (up until 20+ weeks), there is really nothing that can be done to fix any problems that may occur. There is no way to predict if, or when, anything would go wrong, so periodic checks are the best we can do. Her plan for the third trimester is for me to come in about three times per week. I know this seems like a lot, but it beats the heck out of laying in the hospital!
Unfortunately, the decision to deliver the babies at 32 weeks seems to always be the plan for momo twins, as the risks of cord accidents outweigh the risks of prematurity at this point. This means that I will not be sharing my birth month with my children (who were originally due February 11), but instead they will be early Christmas gifts, arriving around December 17th.
After we discussed my pregnancy plan, we got to take a look at the babies. As usual, one was kicked back with its feet up (my baby) and the other was moving around like crazy (Ben's baby). Ben was very anxious to find out the sex of the babies, but neither would "give up the goods." One's bottom was too low to be seen and the other had its legs closed shut. The doctor joked that they must be girls tormenting their daddy. Oh well, maybe next Tuesday, when I go to my appointment without Ben, they won't be so shy.
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