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Three boys under 2.5? I’M TOTALLY OUTNUMBERED!
Flying off the handle at your husband one minute, crying at Strictly the next, then being overwhelmed with happiness the next. I blame the hormones personally. And the fact you can’t drink alcohol to keep you sane.
One minute you’re excited about the impending arrival(s), the next you’re worrying about giving birth, breastfeeding and how to get your figure back.
Apart from the fact I wasn’t excited about
Turns out there’s a lot to worry about when you’re pregnant with twins. None of this being blase like first time round. How they’ll make their entrance into the world was actually the least of my concerns, albeit it was the one
More important than getting them out, was keeping them in. At least long enough for them to be developed enough to survive, be healthy and not have any of the problems associated with prematurity.
Our ‘twin’ hospital consultant did his very best to frighten the life out of me with scary facts at our first appointment. His reputation came before him, and I’d heard how blunt he was from friends who had been patients and others who knew him professionally. Even his diagrams scared me.
Although I knew nothing about
My aim,
Seems my body was more than happy to keep the twins in to 36 weeks, so my worries were thankfully for nothing. The four-weekly scans showed they were already ‘above average’ weights and somersaulting all over the place – Twin One (named solely because he was closest to the ‘exit’) was dubbed the troublemaker early on for back flipping on a
The 20 week scan was soon here and the decision whether to find out the sexes was an easy one. If it had just been one baby in there, we didn’t want to know. But the prospect of twins was already way too much to mentally process. Finding out I was going to spend the next 10-15 years on the side of a football pitch
As long as they’re healthy, it doesn’t matter right? Er, wrong! I wanted at least one, if not both, of them to be a girl. Remember the 2.4 children plan? Well OBVIOUSLY that plan featured the ‘best of both worlds’ boy followed by a girl. I was halfway to achieving that. It was bad enough having twins, surely I’d get a break and have a girl to make up for it?
Wrong again! I don’t know why I was even
Three boys. Three BOYS.
I am TOTALLY OUTNUMBERED. The next 15 years are going to be dominated by talk of farts, poo, willies, cars, diggers, and shouting out ‘TRACTOR’ on every car journey. Although I’m kind of hoping they may have outgrown the tractor and digger stage by the age of 15 – not so optimistic the willy-obsession will be over by then though? It’s going to be all dinosaurs, muddy puddles, football (maybe rugby
Before there is huffing and puffing into your smartphones about my gender stereotypes, of course I know I’m being ridiculously over the top. It’s called sarcasm. I KNOW girls play football, and boys do ballet. (Still winding you up?) Everyone loves a muddy puddle, and let’s face it, what’s not to love about a Disney princess? But remember I am five months pregnant, an emotional, hormonal wreck, crying at
There. Lamenting done. I think I was pretty much over it within a day. Okay, maybe two.
Three boys? Yay! Hurrah! Couldn’t be happier! Ahem.
People tell me boys are much easier than girls and they’ll always love their mum. I think what they actually mean is that boys are just a little bit simple and they were just trying to make me feel
Bring on the dinosaurs and willy-obsessions. Times three!!