I Can't Remember

I can't remember what it's like to be pregnant anymore. To automatically have a place to put my hands, after spending months wearing pants without pockets. To have a shelf that caught any excess food I wasn't able to slip between my lips.

I can't remember what it was like to pat my belly and have someone, or two, respond back with kicking or poking or prodding.

I can't remember all of the pain and suffering and aches. I can't remember how existing on one and a half hours of sleep felt. (For which I am eternally grateful.)

I can't remember the pregnant walk. The rolling sailor gait, the wide waddle that let everyone around you know that you were Comin' Through!

I can't remember constantly overheating, contracting, twingeing, swelling, and getting nauseated. I can see my feet whenever I'd like and touch my toes from a standing position, should I feel so inclined. I don't bump into doors with my belly button anymore, either.

I can't remember what it's like to breathe for someone else, to pee for someone else, to pump someone else's blood through my body.

I can't remember feeling the constant need to pee. The breathlessness, or the constant fear of falling down. Weebles wobble, but sometimes they do fall down and occasionally get stuck.

I can't remember what it felt like to constantly pet my own belly and attend to all of the gymnastics taking place inside. There's no one left to respond to a gentle poke or pat...inside. No one abruptly tests my bladder capacity anymore, either. (Have I mentioned peeing enough for you yet? Gah! It's a constant of pregnancy.)

As I stood there looking at the reflection of my sad, deflated, melted belly in the mirror, I realized that I'd forgotten all of that. Feelings that seemed utterly memorable and unforgettable at the time, I've forgotten. I've forgotten the body memory, the shape of things, the pressures. Once those babies were happily, joyfully decanted, I started a slow journey back to "normal". I'm not so certain I'll ever see normal again, but I'm a lot closer to my body's version of "normal" than 9.5 months ago.

I've lost the pregnant belly. Forever. Now I have loose, saggy baggy skin as a constant reminder of the last known location of Twins. Evicted, 9/27/07. The giant beachball is no more.

I'm grateful for all it held. Three children; two births. Sixty-five pounds gone. Fifty-two inches around, marking the boundary between me, the twins and all the rest of the world. I'm still amazed skin can stretch so far and yet not burst. I appreciate being able to see my feet again and to fit into regular clothes once more.

But how could I forget what it feels like? After all that, how can it be so easy to forget?

OMG! I'm Pregnant with Twins! Now what?!

Since I seem to get a fair amount of traffic from people apparently trying to determine if they are pregnant with twins, I thought I'd let you in on what you should do next. (As for searching for a quiz to determine if you're pregnant with twins, I don't know how useful those things are. The same answers apply if it's only your second pregnancy: gaining weight fast, being hungry all the time and being nauseated - either more or less - are all normal since every pregnancy is different.)

1. Panic. No, really. Feel free to completely and utterly panic. Give in to your instinct to freak out over discovering you're about to have twins. You may as well, since everyone else around you will be busy telling you things like "How fabulous!", "You're so blessed!", "Better you than me!", or laughing hysterically at you (I'm looking at you, Mom!). Feel free to set up an appointment with yourself to freak out, possibly on a weekly basis. After you've gotten it out of your system, it's time to get to work.
   
2. Do your research. Get a good book. I highly recommend When You're Expecting Twins, Triplets, or Quads, by Dr. Barbara Luke. There's a boatload of information in there and it's very reassuring to read about the research she has done specifically on women pregnant with multiples and how much better your odds actually are than the "common wisdom" seems to indicate.
   
3. Make a goal. Decide now what is important to you for this pregnancy and then pursue it. What do I mean? I mean that when I was pregnant, my whole goal was that at the end of the pregnancy I would have two healthy, full term babies with no NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) time. That was the mantra that I kept running through my head when I got frustrated by how things were going during the pregnancy. It also meant I had to come to terms with gaining a lot of weight, no longer being able to work at the market and being physically unable to do many things that I would normally do.
   
4. Eat. One of the key things you will need to do to support a double (Or more!) pregnancy is to eat and eat well. Take your prenatal supplements. Eat nutritious food. Lots of it. You may not have all 40 weeks of a regular pregnancy to put on weight, so you have to front load your weight gain. Ignore the information in the What To Expect books that suggest you should only need 600 calories a day extra. You're going to need more than that. See Dr. Luke's book for details. Before I knew it was twins I was continually stunned by just how hungry I was. I would be tooling along, lah-dee-dah and then suddenly: Pow! Starving to death, shaky and somewhat nauseated. So eat! You only have one shot at doing pregnancy right. Weight gain is temporary, especially if you nurse.
   
5. Drink water. Do you think 8 8 ounce glasses of water daily is a lot? Guess how much you have to drink? About twice that. A little more if it's summer time while you're pregnant. You are supporting the life support systems for three people. You need a lot of water to do so. My doctor had me drinking 5 liters a day. Do you know what happened if I didn't? Contractions. Whoops! Not wanting any NICU time, I sat the hell down and drank yet more water.
   
6. Sit down. All of that weight gain means additional stresses on your system and lower back. Your feel will swell up. You'll probably contract a bunch if you're standing too long or working too hard. If you're lucky, you'll feel the contractions and have enough warning about when you're over-doing it so that you can sit down. During my first pregnancy, I never felt the Braxton-Hicks contractions, I'd just occasionally notice that my belly was really tight! During this pregnancy, they were very obvious when they occured. More than 4 contractions in a half-hour period is cause for concern. The solution is to suck down yet another liter of water and lay down, then you track your contractions over the course of an hour. Still more than 4? Call your doctor. Do not mess around when you're body is trying to tell you to Slow Down!
   
7. Slack off. Sitting down all of the time means you won't be able to wash the dishes, do the laundry, go shopping or any one of the hundreds of little things you'd normally do that involve standing and walking. Get used to it! I really resented the enforced idleness. I couldn't even focus enough to read a book after awhile. Now, of course, I really wish I had more time to slack! I don't, however, so learn this from me: enjoy your time off your feet and slack off. There will be plenty of work later. Make a list of all of those books you've been wanting to read and plow through it!
   
8. Plan ahead. Here's where most everyone I know seems to mess up. Eric and I kept talking about how we should make double batches of food and freeze it for when we'd need it after the twins were born. Great idea! Did we? Nooooo! Which was crazy because we really needed easy to prepare food after they were born. Be ye not so stupid! (As Dooce would say.) Plan ahead for mealtimes. You'll be glad you did.
   
9. Get help. You are going to need help. I. Am. Not. Kidding. YOU are going to NEED help. Whether you have Superman/Wonder Woman for your spouse or not, you will need all the help you can get. Ask for it. Accept it if offered. Pin down friends and family members for specific help. Laundry? Shopping? Cooking? Cleaning? Any of it and all of it: accept it. Your life becomes a blender set to Frappe! after your multiple babies arrive and trying to get your act together while immensely sleep deprived is hard enough. Get help. It doesn't mean you're a failure or a bad mother or a horrible housekeeper. It means you are overwhelmed. Trust me: twins are overwhelming!
   
10. Delegate. Are you normally Super Woman? Do you run the family errands, do the cooking, cleaning, maintain everyone's schedules and all that jazz? Guess what? A whole lot of that is about to come to a screeching halt. Your spouse doesn't cook/clean/do laundry? Now, while you're pregnant, is a great time for them to learn! Things are only going to get harder after the babies arrive. Work those issues out early. Especially if you're planning on breastfeeding. If you are going to breastfeed multiples, you will spend the majority of your time doing just that and only that. Newborns are awfully hungry!
    
11. Hire out. When all else fails, pay the money for in-home services. I'm using my Christmas money for a cleaning service. Best Christmas present I've ever received! (Thanks Mom and Dad!) Don't have the money? Barter with friends. Do you have skills you can trade for services? Suggest a swap! Also, be prepared to lower your standards...a lot. Cleaning the house is the lowest of my priorities at the moment. I'd rather be working on the farm, getting dirty, hot and sweaty outside than dusting and mopping inside.
12. Hang in there. Pregnacy may "only" be 36 to 40 weeks long, but it will be the longest 8 to 9 months of your life. Pain and exhaustion will become really familiar to you. Just try to keep in mind that it will eventually end. In yet more - but different! - pain and exhaustion. I am fully aware that twin pregnancies can be risky and that I was very lucky with how well mine went. There's never any guarantee that everything will be OK, no matter how good your attitude or how perfectly you follow the doctor's advice. Just do the best you can and remember that it really is "only" 36 or so weeks.
    
    Eat well. Drink a lot. Sit down. Slack off. Take care of yourself and your babies. You're the only one that can do that and they are counting on you.

Good luck!

Four Weeks Postpartum

In case you were wondering what 4 weeks postpartum looks like, here it is. Don't look if you're easily frightened by deflated tummies.

Before - 38 weeks pregnant.


After - 4 weeks, 40 lbs, and a pair of twins later.
A little tired? Perhaps! Although my months of no more than 1.5 hours of sleep really was good training for only 2-3 hours of sleep each night. Cool new necklace from Grammy Linda from Africa: made from water buffalo bone.
Ready? Don't be scared!
Eek! Deflated belly! But, as I was told by Misty (and Lee), do not disparage the belly! It was a hard working belly and due all honors. I still look pregnant, but not too bad, although I can't fit in my regular jeans and will be stuck wearing maternity clothes or very loose pants until more of the remaining 25 lbs comes off. Fortunately, the twins are helping with that: ~1000 calories per day in breastfeeding.

Whew!

Well, time to go nurse some more - Logan is looking for me. Ciao!

Countdown

ZERO!


BLASTOFF!

[A really, really pregnant figures pushes itself up from the ground painfully and shakes a clenched fist at the pre-dawn sky.]

"As God is my Witness, I shall never be pregnant again!"*

-- Scarlett O'Hatchet




* Barring accidents, Acts of God, Acts of War, Little Green Men from Mars, spontaneous generation or parthenogenesis. You mileage may vary. See participating Hatchets for details. Limited time offer. Results not typical.

Thirty-eight weeks

I have heard you're clamoring for the final belly photos. They don't look much different from those from 36 weeks, but I thought I'd put them out here just for grins.



Final Vital Statistics:

• Weight: +65 lbs
  
• Waist: 51"
• Cervix: Firmly and resolutely closed (as of Monday's appointment).

Here are some guesses on the final outcome tomorrow:

• Logan will be just over 7 lbs and will be longer than Emma.
• Emma will weigh slightly less than Caitlin did at birth (Caitlin was 6 lb, 14 oz).
• Someone will have blonde hair.
• Someone will have curly hair.
• I will lose between 20-30 lbs by the time I return home on Sunday.
• I still won't be able to see my feet when I look straight down.
• Eric will make me laugh again and hurt my incision. I will consider poking him sharply, but will be too drugged to make the effort.
• Once I can eat real food, Eric will once again hunt up a feast of desserts. Oops! I didn't tell you that part of the story originally.
  When we were stuck in the hospital last time and I was once again able to eat real food, I told Eric that I wanted some cake from the market across the street from the hospital. Being the smitten, sleep deprived sweetheart that he is, he went across to go get some cake. Since I hadn't specified what I wanted and he was presented with so many delectable options, he took one slice of each that was offered, came back and presented me with a bag filled with 7 different types of cake (Yet another reason why we're still together after 15 years - he's quick witted!). We couldn't finish all of it before we left the hospital, so we left them at the desk with the nurses who then sang Eric's praises heartily. Nothing like feeding maternity ward nurses to gather a little good karma. I recommend it!
• There will be much squealing from my MIL and SIL. They're squealers. My mom will use her talking-to-infants voice, which sounds remarkably like her talking-to-kitties voice. Then again, I use that same voice, too, so I can't criticize.
• At some point I will drag myself out of bed just so I can photograph everything and everyone and will get a stern warning to get the hell back in bed from friends, family and staff.

Yeah, that sounds about right!

Here's a little something I have been working on for you. Click on it and see it work (it may take a few moments to load fully).

Countdown

ONE!

"We're running out of time!"

--Jack Bauer-Hatchet

Countdown

TWO!

"She cannae take much more, cap'n!"

--Scotty McHatchet

Pre-op appointment

I don't know what all I was expecting, but I didn't expect that I'd get poked at again at my pre-op this morning. Heck, I was just there on Friday! Did anyone really think that I'd dilate?

*crickets*

Of course I didn't!

So the pre-op appointment consists of a regular visit with the "leaving a sample" (Nice euphemism for "Go pee in a cup."), checking my weight (No apparent change from Friday, although I had more clothes on - it's a wee bit chilly.), blood pressure (Still good), fundal measurement (You know, I forgot to ask. Ehn! *shrug*) poking and surgery discussion. The poking served to give me a brand new way of expressing just how closed I am.

I am no longer Tupperware.

Now I am a Roach Motel: "Babies get in, but they don't get out!"

OMG! Did my doc just compare my Cervix of Steel and Power Uterus [Insert Coining a New Phrase chime sound here.] to bug poison?! Yes, yes she did.

Fortunately for all involved, I have a bizarre sense of humor and found it funny.
Besides, do you really think I want to go all psycho on the woman that will be slicing and dicing me in 3 days? Nuh-uh!

After the poking and laughing she suggested I get dressed, because I guess it's tough even for docs to have a serious conversation with someone whose ass is exposed on the paper liner of the examining table - her massive girth covered with a wee flowered sheet. A sheet clearly never intended to protect the modesty of women with such an ample abdomen and pair of hips as I am currently sporting.

Many more kudos all around for making it this far, health of babies, shininess of hair and visibility of ankles. No, really, the ankles are such a hit, I should photograph them! I won't though. I can't bend that far.

Then we discovered what it really means to have the first scheduled c-section appointment of the day. The c-section is planned for 7:30 am. I thought that meant check-in at 7:30, then general dithering about for a couple of hours and then Crowbar Enabled Baby Removal.

Uh, no.

It means that the operation is at 7:30 am. We need to check in at 5:30 am.

Oh.

Uhhhh...oh.

Well, I'm not sleeping anyway! What the hell!

And I'm not to eat anything after midnight on Wednesday, which means that I shall be snacking at 11:30 pm, of course. Then the arrival, signing away of my life and innards and promising to not be surprised by the bleeding, vomiting or itching that come with any of the drugs they will be plying me with during my 4 day stay at the hospital.

Four days. But there will be Jello! And room service! And a bed that has buttons that make it go up and down and inflate lumbar and ankle pillows and possibly a vibrate option, but I'll probably need to ask about that one.

Did I mention that I hate Jello? Yeah. They told me no real food until I fart.

WHAT?!

My gustatory pleasures will be limited to liquids and Jello until I can pass gas, proving that my innards aren't tied in a knot. I'm hoping that they have some sort of additive in the IV drips that provides such a happening and that I don't sleep through it or anything. The Preggosaurus needs snacks!

When the appointment ended, we hobbled over for another non-stress test where Emma, again, proved to be difficult to get a read on. She's still in there, but is somehow deeper inside than Logan and can somehow move around. On the way over to the test we met a woman that over heard us talking about the twins and told us that she'd just delivered a pair of identical twin boys 3.5 weeks ago. I took one look at her and asked her "Through you?!" because she sure as hell didn't look like someone who had just given birth 3.5 weeks ago! The answer was yes, and that the weight went whipping off.

I think I've just met my new hero!

So be prepared for the before and after photographic evidence.

Three (3) days left!
Or as Eric likes to say: 60 hours and 40 minutes left!

It's...raining

This is Colorado! We don't "do" rain!

Apparently someone forgot to tell the weather forecasters that, though, because it's raining like mad. Thunder, a little lightening and it's been going on for what feels like ages. Meaning, longer than 10 minutes.

Colorado is (normally) an arid plain state. We don't have humidity and we don't do rainfall in appreciable amounts (10-14" per year, people!). Today, I think it's trying to meet its quota for either the year or at least half of it. It started raining last night, eased up a bit this morning and now is going full tilt.

Why should you care?

Because it means mom and Eric can't put my plants in the ground!

Oh, wait, that's why I care.

Hmm. Nevermind! Carry on, citizen.

70.5 hours, 1 pre-op appointment, a non-stress test and 1 operation left. Not that we're counting or anything. Heh!

Countdown

Three!

"What have I got in my uterus?"

--Bilba Hatchet

Countdown

FOUR!

"That's no moon. It's The Belly!"

--Obi-Hatchet

Let the countdown begin!

FIVE!

"There may yet be a day when the Cervix of Steel fails us...but that day IS NOT TODAY!"*


-- AraHatchet


* Yes, we did just watch Lord of the Rings again, why?

Doctor! Doctor!

Thirty seven weeks. Phew!

Hey, only 6 more days, one pre-op appointment, one non-stress test and one operation to go!

I am soooooo ready, but you already knew that, didn't you? Although today I got official word from the doctor that I am totally allowed to whine. Yay! Official word on the whining factor!

I'm trying not to, really, but it's tough.

Anyway...it's time for

Vital Statistics!

• Weight: +63 lbs
  
• Waist size: 51"
  
• Heart rates: ~140s for both Logan and Emma
  
• Fundal measurement: 48 cm. Eight weeks "past due".
  
• Cervical dilation: None. Come on! Did you think there would be at this point? Do not under estimate the power of the Cervix of Steel!

We then got sent off for a Non-Stress Test. Basically, I lie down, hooked up to several heart rate monitors and they watch the heart rates of the twins. It's supposed to cover a 20 minute uninterrupted period, but since the twins are still able to move around in there (How?!), it took up to 1.5 hours and an ultrasound machine to pinpoint the best location for the monitor to get 20 minutes on Emma. Logan is either stuck in place or just easier to monitor.

Here's what it looks like.

One monitor for Logan (bottom), one for contractions (directly above Logan's), one for Emma (to the left of the contraction monitor), a heart rate monitor for me (to make sure they could tell the difference between my heart rate and the kids') and a blood pressure cuff (not pictured). My blood pressure has been fabulous this entire time: 118/62. I suspect it has to do with all the bloody water drinking and lazing about.

No, my belly is not that red, it has to do with the quality (or lack thereof) of Eric's cellphone camera. However, yes, my linea nigra does go all the way down and all the way up to my breastbone. Whee! Apparently there's an Old Wives' Tale that the line running one way means a girl and the other way a boy. Me, I've got the whole thing covered!

So here we are: 6 days left. Caitlin says: "hurrah!"

The eviction notice gets delivered next Thursday.

Six (6) days left!
Or less! But it's not likely!

Letters from the Inside

Dear Mom & Dad,

Things are going great here in The Belly! We're warm and cozy, if a little bit squeezed for space. At least we're never lonely! The food lately has been great!

We're thinking about you all out there, in the cold, and decided that we're staying where we are. We're starting work on a sub-basement! It's going to be great. We tried adding an attic, but kept running into bone or something. Hope you like it. We'll send pictures or something.

Hey, could you get mom to quit walking around so much? While the rocking motion is really nice, when the walls close in on us it makes it even tougher to do calisthenics!

Thanks!
Emma & Logan

P.S. Send more chocolate.

Dear Emma & Logan,

I'm really glad to hear that things are going well for you inside. I can feel your work on the basement but I've gotta tell you: you need to cut that out. There are only so many structural changes you can make to The Belly before it comes crashing down.

Glad to hear you're enjoying the food. Boy was I ever surprised to hear from the doctor just how much you liked the food! Perhaps you'd consider coming to visit soon and then you'll get more yummy things more directly. I mean, ice cream is great when broken down into it's component parts, but when you can taste it...it's even better! You should really consider this. Seriously.

Sorry about the walking, but a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do. I can help you out on the chocolate issue, but you've gotta meet me halfway and stop construction. Consider it your first bribe!

Love,
Mom

P.S. If you don't come out of there in the next 7 days, I'm sending in a professional Spelunking Team to get you out. Don't think I'm bluffing, either. Ask Caitlin, she knows.

Waiting for babies

Every day when I go to "sleep", I wonder if this will be the night. Every night when I wake up repeatedly, I wonder if this will be the moment. Every morning when I wake up, I wonder if this will be the morning.

Each time, the answer is a resounding No.

And so the long wait continues.

On the bright side, I know I have an actual end date that I'm moving towards. There won't be any surprises there. I won't have to wait and wait and wait for my body to get this show on the road, because it won't.

That's what we learned last time. I do a great job of incubating and a rotten job of releasing my children into the wild.

The thing is, I'm totally OK with a planned Cesaerean section. I'm perfectly fine with pain management. I started out in all the Lamaze classes, took the breathing techniques seriously and wanted to do all I could to avoid "intervention". My body, however, had other plans. In the end, after my water broke and 24 hours of fruitless labor, when Caitlin started to go into distress, the only option was c-section. After it was over, never for a moment did I feel like I "missed out". Like I was less of a mother for not having passed her through the birth canal with Eric squeezing my hands and telling me to breathe.

That is one of the things that I object to from all of the birthing magazines and classes and piles of literature. Sometimes life throws you something completely unexpected and you just have to roll with it. It doesn't make you less of a mother.

This isn't a contest.

There's no "right" way to do birth.

So long as you leave that hospital with your child (or children) alive and whole, you have successfully birthed a child. Drugs or no drugs, natural, planned or emergency c-section - it doesn't matter. You are still a mother. You still get to take your bundle(s - eep!) home. No one should be made to feel guilty for not doing everything they could to have a "perfect" (defined generally as "natural") birth.

Nothing in life is perfect. Why would you think giving birth is?

Let's be clear: I am not advocating that everyone go out and get drugged up and get cut up. What I am saying is that as mothers we should stick together and not tear ourselves apart over lame differences in things like birthing plans, pain management techniques or trying to define what being a "good parent" is for everyone. What works for me may not work for you and vice versa. Instead, do your research, make your plans, talk with your doctors/midwives and be prepared, but don't forget to be ready to chuck all of those plans should something go wrong and do not take on guilt for what should have been.

You made it out alive. Now it's time to become a parent.

Good luck!

Belly full of babies

We had our last ultrasound for growth this morning.

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

How big?

You want to know how big they are?

Well! Let me tell you.

According to the computer, from the three measurements they take of each baby (head circumference, belly circumference and femur length), give or take 16 oz:

Emma: 6 lb 11 oz
Logan: 7 lb 0 oz

I'm carrying between ~12-14 lbs of babies. No wonder my hips hurt!

For those of us keeping track, I'm officially carrying somewhere between 1.05 and 1.2 Olivers. Yes, he's the measurement I'm tracking to. Misty and I giggled over it, now it looks like the twins heard me and took us seriously.

Oh and Emma has turned head down again (How I didn't feel it I'll never know.), so they are both head to head now. Very likely whispering and making plans. These last 3 weeks I thought I was patting Emma's head. Nope! Looks like it's been all feet and tushies. Hah!

Eleven (11) days to go.
Or less!

Updated to add: The doc just called and said that they think the babies look great and appear to be anywhere between 6-6.5 lbs each. Apparently they automatically deduct some of the weight the computer assigns them, since they expect twins to be smaller than the computer does. However, the up-side is that they are continuing to grow and they look good.

Doctor! Doctor!

I had noticed at the last couple of visits that the docs had asked me if I wanted them to "check" me for dilation but hadn't thought much of it. I just remember when the first doctor announced that they'd be checking me as a matter of course a couple of months back. Today I commented on it during the appointment.

Turns out that once you're within the safety zone for twin births they don't even care if you're dilated!

Now, however, since I am sporting the Cervix of Steel, I need to know if I'm dilated or not. So now each visit, just for grins, I'm having them check me. That's not weird at all, is it?

Today's visit? Still nothing.

I am now utterly convinced that I'm going the whole way. Bitchin', moanin' and complainin'.

Vital Statistics!

• Weight: +62 lbs (A +3 lb jump since last week - no I don't know why.)
  
• Waist size: 51"
  
• Heart rates: ~140s for Logan and ~130s for Emma
  
• Fundal measurement: 44 cm. Four weeks "past due". I think they shifted position, since last week I was at 47 cm. This might also explain the extra inch in my waist size. Perhaps they've moved sideways instead of continually trying to crawl up my breastbone?
  
• Cervical dilation: None. And now I know there won't ever be.
• Next ultrasound for growth is scheduled for Monday. How big will they be this time?
  

Thirteen (13) days left!
Or less!

Thirty-six weeks

First things first:

For those of you that didn't think I'd make it this far: Bwahahahaaaaahahaaaa!

Hah hah ha!

Ha.

[Weeping.] Why couldn't you have been right?!

Ahem.

Everything is great (Except for the parts I regularly complain about - no change there.)! I'm still pregnant and looking to be that way for the next couple years weeks. For your viewing pleasure, I present:

The Belly.

Comparison shot!

Look at how the distance from my fingers to my belly button has increased. Oh man! To give you a better idea, at 33 weeks (middle photo + 1 week) I was at 42 cm. Last week I was at 47 cm (3rd photo - 1 week). I get measured again tomorrow.

28, 32 and 36 weeks.

There's still a head attached.
I have no explanation for the continued existence of my ankles. The day that I got hit really hard with allergies my whole head swelled up, making me look like someone who was finally about to give birth, but then the swelling (in my head) went away. Now I'm back to "normal".

One day, I swear, I will give birth to these two.

Two (2) weeks left!
Or less!
Please! Please! Please!

You know you're big when...

You not only have outgrown a fair amount of maternity bottoms, but now you're outgrowing the tops.

Doctor! Doctor!

Oh-my-god-I'm-still-pregnant!

I'm never having these children. Never!

Hi there! Welcome to the Weekly Whine, wherein I get to whine about just how pregnant I am. How pregnant am I? Well! Let me tell you!

I am currently 35 weeks pregnant. Thirty-five.

Vital Statistics!

• Weight: +59 lbs
  
• Waist size: 50" +/- .5" depending on water intake
  
• Heart rates: ~140s for Logan and ~130s for Emma
  
• Fundal measurement: 47 cm. Seven weeks "past due".
  
• Cervical dilation: None. Nada. Zip. Did I mention I'm not dilated?
  
• Energy: Tired. Oh so tired. I get between 1 to 1.5 hours of sleep before my uterus contracts so hard that it hurts and I have to hobble and limp (How do you limp on both legs, anyway?) while crouched over, to the bathroom and empty my bladder. I think my uterus is attached to my hip muscles due to the way it all seems to contract together. The contraction (Still just Braxton-Hicks!) lasts for minutes before it relaxes again. The pain from the contraction means that I'm performing modified Lamaze breathing to get through the pain, while trying to be quiet and not wake Eric up. And nothing is happening to my cervix. Cervix of steel, indeed! Maybe adamantium. This also means that I am wide awake during these trips, unlike when I was pregnant with Caitlin when I could just roll out of bed, sleepwalk to the bathroom and sleepwalk back to bed. Phooey.
• My breastbone feels bruised. Is it hands? Feet? Emma's head? Inevitable due to all of that weight pulling on muscles that were never meant to be stretched this far? Due to construction work for a second story that the twins are putting in? Who knows!
  

They are both so grounded! No baby parties for at least a year! None!

Was I surprised at the news that I still wasn't dilated? No, but I really wanted to be dilated. I wanted to be told that maybe I'd be due sooner rather than later. I'm less than 3 weeks out, but this is going to be the longest 3 weeks of my life. Logically, I know it's good for the twins to stay in there but have you ever experienced chronic pain? Gaaaah! So now I feel like I can empathize with obese people, asthmatics and arthritics - all at the same time!

Wheeeeeee!

So...still want twins?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

*crickets*

Up to three (3) weeks left!