Yesterday was my six-week postpartum checkup at my OB’s office. Hard to believe six weeks have passed already. Everything checked out just fine. Blood pressure back to its normal low, incision healing reasonably well, uterus miraculously shrunk down to it’s original size. I’ve lost about 2/3 of the weight I gained (final total was somewhere in the 60-pound range, I’m down about 40 of that). When asked what form of birth control I wanted to consider, my response was “as many as possible.” Haha. I’m strongly considering the IUD, but if not that, then I’ll happily go back on the pill, which was always good to me.
It’s funny, this really feels like the coda on the end of my pregnancy. With this appointment done, it really is over. I may wax nostalgic about the anticipation that comes along with being pregnant, but I can say in no uncertain terms that I am thrilled to not be pregnant anymore. It really is something to have my body (mostly) back. For instance:
- I can sleep in any old position I want! Of course, I still find myself sleeping on my side some of the time, but at least it’s a choice.
- I don’t have to grunt and groan every time I stand up, sit down, roll over, or otherwise move my huge self.
- Carpal tunnel is 90% gone, and I can feel my entire right hand save for a little numbness at the tip of one finger.
- I no longer pee upwards of 15 times per day. Whew.
- I can see my ankles
- I have ankles.
- I can walk further than 20 yards without pain, pressure, or contractions.
- I drink less than a gallon of water per day. (Though, yes, I still drink a lot for the sake of my milk supply.)
- I can’t yet wear my wedding rings again, but it’s getting closer.
- The heartburn/reflux that had me taking extra-strength Zantac in addition to six or seven Tums per day disappeared immediately post-surgery.
In the end, I made it through my pregnancy relatively unscathed. Especially as twin pregnancies go, I had very few complications. No gestational diabetes, no pre-eclampsia (though I arguably had pregnancy-induced hypertension in those final weeks). Concerned though we were about Rebecca’s size all along, she has proven to be plenty healthy and feisty. I was blessedly never put on bedrest or really any restricted activity beyond what I limited on my own. And despite worrying about preterm labor, I made it all the way to 36 weeks. I was plenty uncomfortable, but I made it.
And now, it’s officially over. Whew.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have two beautiful, hungry babies to take care of.
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