With the girls, bedrest started for me just a few days after I hit 27 weeks. At that point, my belly was measuring 32 weeks (and if you remember back from when I went on bedrest with Tucker, it was at 32 weeks, so I assume my body is just done when it hits that mark for some reason).
I was seeing two doctors at this point, my family doctor who I was planning on having deliver the girls and an OB he referred me to that would refer me elsewhere if he thought I needed it. At one of my appointments with the second doctor, he wasn’t happy with what was popping up on the non-stress test they did in the office, too many contractions for his liking, so he sent me over to the hospital to be monitored more closely. At that point, I was admitted and steroid shots were ordered for the girls (some of the same things we had already gone through with Tucker, so I was all too familiar with it) and my family doctor came in to check on me. I remember him saying, “We’ll be lucky if we get you 
out of July with out having these babies born” and I thought he was crazy. It was less than two weeks until August at that point and the girls weren’t due until October.
After a few nights at the hospital, they ended up sending me home on meds and monitoring from home. I was on a t-pump again (terbutaline for the contractions) and on full bedrest. It was much harder this time around, with having Tucker and being on bedrest.
Although I don’t have any pictures of me on bedrest this go around, this was the last pregnant picture of me, taken about 11 days before the girls were born, so maybe a day or so before bedrest started. Oh, I look like a hot mess!
When I think back to both of my pregnancies, I usually get a little upset. It’s hard looking at others around me (friends or just random pregnant women) and not be upset that their pregnancies are normal and mine were not. I missed out on a lot about being pregnant because of bedrest and preterm labor & deliveries. Heck, with both pregnancies I never got to be pregnant at my baby showers. I never got to do the last minute nesting that women talk about or carry a baby for the normal 40 weeks (I know, I know, that part isn’t really all that fun!). But then I look at my kids and realize that in the end, I’m lucky to have three healthy kids because it all eventually worked out.
