Final bets were placed amongst family and friends with regard the sex of the babies.
I couldn’t shake the un-girly vibe and despite acknowledging the statistical likelihood of one of each, opted for two boys. And I was right! Does that mean there may be dormant maternal instinct genes in me after all?
We didn’t have to wait long once the monitor was on as the first image on screen was a legs-akimbo little man proudly showing us his bits and pieces and the second twin was equally unbashful! In view of the fact we discovered we were pregnant on the Euro Star (yes really!) it was suggested we consider naming one twin Paris in honour of a certain globally renowned phallus!
We were shown incredible 4D images that revealed ‘proper people’ for the first time – eyelids and noses and expressions. I have spent hours looking at the print outs and still find it impossible to believe that I have been growing them and even more astonishing that I will meet them in a few short months and get to hold the teeny fingers reaching out from the screen.
We jetted off for The.Last.Holiday. Sunshine potential compromised because of my concerns surrounding long haul flights. We took off for Italy and I watched uneasily as my plastic bottle of water scrunched up as the cabin pressure changed and wondered if the same thing was happening to the boys. I asked a passing member of Ruin Air crew how far into pregnancy women were allowed to fly for. ’52 weeks’ he said. Great. My faith in the staff in the event of a bump- related emergency had just plummeted. Did he think I was mid gestation for an elephant?
We landed. I felt reassured by the wriggling in my tummy while waiting for our luggage and decided not to be overly paranoid for the duration of the holiday. And I wasn’t. Well, admittedly I didn’t indulge in the spa treatments, the caffeinated coffee or the Jacuzzi but having learnt a lesson from The Egg.Mayonniase.Sandwich.Incident I knew better than to think I could recklessly throw caution to the wind without consequence and stuck to my comfort zone.
I even braved a bikini – albeit briefly and within the relatively private confines of an out-of-season hotel pool. One of the advantages of an expanding tummy has to be the bottom/ bump ratio. Never having been overly proud of my rear it does at least appear smaller these days. Optical illusion or not I am choosing to embrace it!
I sat with my toes in the pool and wondered if it would be considered vain or sensible to book in for a pedicure pre due date. And maybe an eyelash tint? Is it safe to use fake tan? Those first birth photos get handed around for years and I want to minimize unflattering factors. Admittedly there is not much I can do about the hospital gown, the blotchy puffy face from tears of fear and joy, the hair net if it’s a c section (I’m preparing for the worst. They make you wear them when you cut bread in a bakers so they are bound to make Mums to be wear them as they are wheeled in). A little nail polish and help around the eyes might be considered an investment? Or do I have to pretend that I will abandon vanity and pride in appearance henceforth? Is it taboo to even commit these thoughts to paper…well, screen?
Katy Hymas
November 2009
At 28 Katy is reluctant to hang up her party shoes for good just yet but admits that, at 5 months pregnant with twins, they may not get much wear over the coming months.
Having set up a PR company last year Motherhood was not exactly written into the business plan but the babies are a welcome surprise and someday, somehow, Katy hope she can have it all; shiny shoes and a business suit, party shoes and nights out... and of course two healthy, happy bundles of joy.
The super-glam pics of Katy are by Imagethirst.com | 
The 'Other' in Mother
