The reality of this situation is setting in, and it is scary AF. We went back to the doctor last week for another ultrasound. For some reason, I was under the impression that this ultrasound and appointment would finally calm my nerves. “Finally, I will confirm that they aren’t conjoined and they don’t have thick necks, and I will be able to relax!” Because that is what a normal pregnancy is like. At 13 weeks, you can kind of relax for awhile. What was I thinking? That’s not how it worked. Not at all. I left the appointment feeling more stressed and anxious than before. Perhaps it was because we saw a different MFM, and she said a lot of scary words like “morbidity” and “mortality” and “termination.”

Everything is looking fine so far — they are growing equally, their necks are normal, and they definitely aren’t conjoined. And they were cutely bouncing off of each other in there. One moment during the ultrasound, they were feet to feet. The next, stacked on top of each other. And the next after that, head to head. It’s cute, but also a bit unnerving because that also probably means their cords are getting twisted up. These types of babies can endure a lot of twists and knots in their cords (if you’re brave, google image search “momo twin cord knots”), but only so much.

Let’s pause on the scary stuff for a minute–you probably want to see some pictures of these babies! Here they were at 8 weeks, snuggled up together.

And here they are at about 12.5 weeks. Still quite cozy but definitely two separate entities.

But those scary words from the doctor stuck in my head, and it’s clear to me now that we won’t really be able to relax until we make it to 26 weeks, and even then it will be a tough road ahead.

I guess that means it’s time to change my mindset.

Earlier this year, I was reading Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance by Angela Duckworth. I didn’t finish this book because it struck me as one of those books where you can read a few chapters and get the idea, but one thing that did strike me was the difference between intensity and grit. I’ve always through of myself as a gritty person, until I read this:

“The word passion is often used to describe intense emotions. For a lot of people, passion is synonymous with infatuation or obsession. But in interviews about what it takes to succeed, high achievers often talk about commitment of a different kind. Rather than intensity, what comes up again and again in their remarks is the idea of consistency over time.”

Hmm… I can think of a long list of things that I haven’t been consistent with over time. Am I actually gritty at all? Sure I ran 100 miles, but I only trained for like 8 months, did it, and moved on. Is that the kind of consistency you need to be gritty, or is that just intensity? I’m more of a “crash and burn” type than a “slow and steady” type. I don’t even do anything that gritty on a regular basis anymore, except I guess you could argue that product management requires a steady stream of grittiness in order to actually build good products in the end. And raising a toddler. And maybe owning two pitbulls. And going to therapy to work through my issues. Okay, so maybe I do have grit, but I’m just not applying it in the same ways that I used to.

If I thought I wasn’t getting enough practice being gritty, well thank you universe, now I have my chance! This long road ahead will require grit, not just for me but for the babies too. For me, it will definitely require grit to get through these next 12 weeks of nerves, the following 6-10 weeks in the hospital, and the NICU weeks beyond that. I need to take each thing as it comes. Set small milestones for each appointment every 2 weeks, prepare as best I can, and be ready to deal with whatever comes our way. And try to savor the good moments. I’m trying not to think so much about the “what ifs” and focus more on the “what we know.”

Meanwhile, it helps calm my nerves to think about the babies being gritty too. Gritty warriors. As they move around and twist up their cords, I like to imagine these gritty warriors fighting through it. We’ve got some resilient, enduring genes in our family, and they must have some of that too. They will endure. They are warriors.

The other aspect of my nerves has been this steady worry that I might lose them. It has been hard to attach to these babies and just focus on the moment because of the fear of losing them. For example, I don’t want to buy anything or really make that many preparations until they arrive because.. they might not. Because of this fear, I also haven’t been able to connect with them very well, I think as a defense mechanism. “If I don’t attach to them, it will be easier to lose them.” I’ve realized, though, that this is not true. It won’t be any easier to lose them, and in the meantime, they need love and positivity. I need to show them the way through this. And even if they die, at least they die as gritty, loved warriors.

Update: I’ve been trying this new mindset for a few days now. It’s.. sort of working, but not really. I still worry approximately every 5 minutes, but at least I am making progress in shifting my focus towards positive things every 5 minutes.