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Girls! The passengers are girls. Indenitical girls.
I would have written earlier, but the hour long sonogram took it out of me and I came home and went straight to sleep.
Yes, the sonogram was literally an hour long. Twin B is now 12 oz and her little sister, Twin A is slightly smaller at 11 oz. But we learned way more than their weights. The amount of activity going on in there was just amazing. While trying to find the gender of Twin B, her sister kept kicking her and getting her legs in the way. Then, TWIN A completely flipped around and then kinda just chilled out. Twin B's arms flapped around and wiggled a bunch and we even saw her face. Seeing them interacting so much with each other and moving around so much makes me wonder about how much is going in their brains. How much do they think right now? Are they aware of each other? Do they dream? And if so, what do they dream of?
I knew all along that my passengers were girls. They told me at 10 weeks and I have dreamt that they were girls many many times. And once again, I am reminded to trust myself and them.
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The prints that I had made of one of my pieces arrived yesterday. And I was totally blown away at how lovely they are. The image on the art page totally doesn't do them justice, maybe I will have to take a picture of the one I just hung on my office wall when I get a chance.
If anyone is interested in this one, I might also start making prints of some of my other pieces. We will see. For now, you can buy prints of "We Prefer Telepathy" on the art page.
Today we go to see the passengers again and hopefully will know by this evening what their names will be.
My world smells like cake today. I have no idea why.
Last night, Jeff and I fell alseep at 5:30 with all the windows open. It was lovely. We napped for hours, getting up in time for guilty pleasure TV, American Idol and The Amazing Race. During our nap, I dreamt that I was trying to download the babies. Not on a computer, but just out in the world. I couldn't download them, though, because I didn't know their file names. And their paths were long and shadowy. Like their file name paths were hard to see, not their life paths.
When I woke up I thought about how the words 'file' and 'life' have the same letters in them. Weird.
I saw Lydia again. She didn't have any money in her cup, so I avoided having to try and refuse a dollar from her for the babies. I tried to give her a dollar, though, and she said to keep it for the babies.
She told me she liked my easter hair today. And also told me about going to the Easter Egg Roll at the White House yesterday. She said she found it very interesting, which was a lovely professory way to put it. I mentioned it must have been cold, since yesterday was miserable with wind and rain and frigid temps. To this she told me the story of the poncho. That while she was bundled up in her raincoat, she had gone to CVS and bought a poncho just in case. She saw a little boy who was wearing just shorts and a t-shirt and she gave him her poncho. She was very happy with herself about this. And it made me think about how she must have been doing this her whole life. Giving people things. And this made me sad. Because here she is, panhandling extra money to survive.
She pulled out her wallet to give me something and to my surprise it was a folded piece of stationary with her name and address on it. It was as if she were waiting to give it to me for weeks. And again, I hear the ding ding of being in an RPG and getting a magical object that will help me on my quest. She told me that she would only be able to live at her apartment for another 6 months because the whole block is being sold and asked if i would keep an eye out for an apartment for $600 a month because that is how much she gets in social security. Perhaps this is what I am supposed to do for her.
As if it just dawned on her, she asked how the the little easter bunnies are. And again, I am touched, so touched, that this old woman is asking me about the passengers.
I sit here now, looking at her name and address, and realize that finally I know she actually exists, since I have wondered many times if she is just in my head.
I have been having an emotionally bad day. 20 weeks pregnant. Half way there for a normal pregnancy, a little over half for a twin pregnancy. But let's just say half. Pregnancy is pretty easy right now, still tired and a little bit of muscle pain, but other than that the physical stuff isn't so bad.
Emotionally, though, I am just feeling down. And I hate this because I know better. I wonder if this is just hormones or if it is hormones mixed with being off of the prozac for nearly 3 months now. I just feel like all I can do now is wait. Wait and wait and wait. And while I wait, I can feel guilty about every food choice I make or don't make. Guilty that I am not eating enough vegetables, guilty that I am eating too much fruit, guilty that I am not eating enough in general or drinking enough water. Ugh. Guilt is crap.
Jeff's mom Tivo-ed a bunch of episodes of TLC's "A Baby Story" for us and we watched them this weekend. It seemed like hours and hours of them. The first one showed a mom of two giving birth vaginally to a set of twins. I got so upset because the women just screamed and freaked out and I was thinking that she had already done this twice! She should have been way better at it and way more calm. Then there were two other first time moms who did just fine and were really calm and strong. I wonder how much of these shows was editing. The c-sections really upset me. All of the doctors seem to act like it is so easy. So fast! But I just kept feeling like the women would end up with emotional problems based on their inabilty to do their job. Then there is the whole, does the husband stay with the wife after the c-section or follow the babies to the nursery. What a terrible decision to have to make. Jeff and I talked about it and he said he would stay with me until he knew that I was ok. Which is so lovely, but then makes me sad for the babies. What a mess.
Then there was all this extended family bonding on these shows. People who invited their whole families over the day they came home from the hospital, people who had these huge extended families passing around babies like some sort of communial food or something. Watching 20 people kiss a new baby made me feel sick, thinking of all the germs these people must have brought with them.
There just seems to be this lack of privacy in these shows, and I don't just mean the cameras. One mom who had a c-section was very upset to come home to 5 people all watching her feed the baby on her first day home. I felt for her, but she should have known better. I don't know. I just find that with new babies, everyone is so eager to see, touch, hold the new baby, that the mom gets lost in the mix. If that is selfish of me to say, then I am selfish.
I have never been one to understand the cult of babies. And I kinda think that will make me a better mom somehow. Sure, I am fully entrenched in this new world, but I don't understand it yet. Jeff and I always always thought about having "kids" not babies and I still wish this whole birth and first months were optional. Part of it might be my own fears of being able to take a back seat to the passengers. Of being able to accept help from people, which with twins I will have to do. I have all of these fears and with them, guilt is never far.
Watching all of these episodes of "A Baby Story" made me realize how little I know about being a "normal" woman, or being a "normal" American, whatever that is. That land they edit together for that show is a strange land to me. And I can't begin to put my finger on how or why.
Perhaps it is partly the privacy issue, or my inability to feel this sort of "group joy." When Jeff and I got married, we did so at the courthouse, not wanting a huge wedding where we were to play the roles of loving and lovely. I didn't want anyone there with us, but our parents ended up there somehow. I know a lot of my feelings about that were because I was severely depressed at the time. I know Jeff is the same way about these things as I am, but I know his is more about being an only child. I wonder where mine comes from. My avoidance of group joy. And isn't it terribly ironic that someone like me who blogs and records her entire life would feel this way? It is ok for me to share with you, whoever you are, but when it comes to people I should share joy with, I close myself off. I am so cynical about weddings and baby showers to the point that I rarely attend them. Perhaps it is that real moments of joy, pure joy, come so rare when they are planned, ya know? Perhaps it isn't about group joy, but planned joy. And real, unplanned joy isn't always so cleanly felt. Like the day we found out that we were having twins. I remember that day as this pure joy, but along with it came this pure fear and dread.
I might be rambling here. I am just really trying to work out my current feelings. I know that tomorrow, the sun will shine and I will be this crazy force of joy again. I will be one day closer to knowing who my babies are and all of this will sound so silly.
The pink hair caused a big ruckus while I was getting my lunch today. I would imagine it is because it is all out and big today and not put back in panda ears. It made me think about the benefits of not being so visibly loud. This made me think of what kind of long term affects my pink hair have on people? haha. No, seriously. I worry sometimes that I negatively impact little kids with it. I always here little girls telling their moms, "I want pink/blue/purple hair," as I walk by. I wonder how often my whimsy causes a mom to say "no" to her daughter.
Ah, and I always move back to motherhood. Last night, I had a bit of explosion of emotions. I think that being pregnant with twins has made me ignore my worries about becoming a mother in general. I am so wrapped up in the whole twin thing, that my old phobias about motherhood have been stuffed away. So, last night, I saw this Cingular wireless commerical, where a set of super cool in that O.C. way male triplets all come home from college for their mother's birthday. I reacted to this commerical in such a crazy way. It sent me to the bedroom in angry tears. I told Jeff about the commerical and about how those guys totally don't love their mother. They love beer and skiing and whatever cool O.C. boys love. And that I wondered what the whole point of this was since no one I knew really loved their mother. This was just totally out there and Jeff let me know it.
I guess I just worry that no matter what I do, at some point, my kids will feel like I harmed them somehow. Like I loved them too much or not enough or who even knows. Everyone is messed up somehow and it seems more than ever, people blame it on their parents. Maybe deep down, I have this fear of being rejected by my kids; even though I know it is a natural part of growing up.
I am sure all new moms worry about these things. I know I am not the first. And once again I think about how lucky I am that so many of the real worries of pregnancy are voided for me by modern medicine and life. That I can afford these emotional concerns. I wonder what the top concern of my greatgrandma who had 22 kids was. I am sure it wasn't being rejected by her children or not being loved. I'm sure it was food and clothes and losing her little ones to illness.
I am lucky. I am a fortunate panda. I am golden. I need to remember these things.
I swear that my nose has gotten wider since I got pregnant. The books didn't tell me that could happen. Maybe it is the added 25 pounds. Maybe I am slightly batty.
Here is a picture of my newest hair color, Atomic Pink! plus brown roots too. I am noticing that the brown hair that is growing back in has actually lost my original hair color. My hair used to be kinda auburn, now it is just blah. Oh well. Guess that just means that after the babies are born, I will have to bleach it away and go all pink or perhaps lime green! Lime green! I just noticed that I am wearing a polo shirt in this picture. Pregnancy makes us do silly things. I also noticed that my shirt and sweater match my website colors. How on earth do I do that?
I am new car smell.
This weekend made me feel way too adult. Which is funny considering I am 31. Jeff and I went out to the suburbs to buy a car. We took the metro and then planned to take a bus the rest of the way, but found a shuttle to Alexandria Toyota. And weeks and weeks of reading Consumer Reports and learning about all the cars on the market and doing research paid off in the form of a pretty indigo Toyota Matrix. Her name is Mabel and she looks like a big grape/blueberry gumball. And our 4 years without a car (by choice) are now over. And I am a little sad that I don't hate cars anymore. Mabel is a guilty pleasure.
And I learned that I am a right little deal maker considering that we acquired Mabel for 2k less than the sticker price. We were smart and bought a car that was within our means and Jeff only wished for the Prius a tiny bit when we went to see the cars on the lot.
So far, having a car in the city isn't too hard. We haven't had a hard time parking it yet, but I am sure that will change considering we live in Adams Morgan. But for now, the whole thing has been pretty painless. Well, except for the pain of giving up my hatred for cars. But my growing tummy tells me this is a good thing.
Other things. I didn't gain any weight last week. This is an ok thing. I have gained 25 pounds total so far. And I am halfway there. Any bets on how much gained I will get through this with? I am thinking 45 pounds gained. We will see. Last week, I was feeling really heavy. This morning, I got out of bed easily, no heavy feeling at all. Weird. It comes and goes, that plump feeling. Once again, I will say this is because I know what it is like to be really fat. So this is nothing!
Tomorrow I am 19 weeks pregnant. This is what is happening with the babies: >>At 15 centimeters crown to rump, and weighing eight ounces, your babies are getting big! This week, permanent teeth buds are forming behind the milk teeth buds.>> I wish my tummy were bigger and more round. I know I should be happy right now that it isn't. Because while it is pretty and would make me look more pregnant. I know that two months from now, I will be complaining of the big round tummy.
New podcast available:
Seamonsters Restaurant Fuel Podcast #4 -- 3/17/05 -- "The automobile for the urban family" -- 26 minutes
This time, we move back to recording from the bedroom, which makes for a more relaxed episode. We talk about buying our first car in years, and some other stuff.
They wiggle like jello.
We saw the passengers again yesterday. They are now both transverse or long ways across my tummy. One on top of the other. Twin B is right under my belly button now. And they inch higher and higher everyday, it seems.
We saw their heartbeats and their arms and legs wiggling in their. They are starting to look more like real people now, the size and shape of their heads compared to their bodies. The sonogram was brief with the promise that two weeks from now, a high resolution sonogram will tell us the gender of the babies.
We also got some good news from my blood work. First no gestational diabetes for now. Also, the Quad test came back negative. It tests for the posibility of 4 different neurological disorders in the babies, including Downs Syndrome. We were so happy to see the negative results because women carrying twins offen will get a false positive result and have to undergo further tests to rule out these disorders in the babies. So, my blood is good and happy. My passengers are also good and happy.
We did a new podcast, but it is having some technical difficulties. It should be posted tonight.
It happened again. My street grandma gave me a dollar again today. Despite my attempts at giving it back to her. She put it in my shirt this time, when I tried to give it back! She told me it was for luck. I told her about how my real grandma used to do that when i was little. She told me she was doing it because my real grandma wasn't there to do it. Once again, I offered to get her something. Once again she refused. She thanked me for talking to her. Told me it made her happy and once again asked if I knew her daughter. I asked if she knew where her daughter lived and she said no, but she had a card from her.
Again she asked me what I would name the babies. And when i said I had some time to decide, she said, yes, a few days to decide. And this reminded me of how fast time moves. A few days, indeed, I thought. Life is really but a few days.
I said goodbye and went to get my lunch. I picked out a nice piece of banana bread for her. And just like yesterday, I exited the store and she was no where to be found. I searched the streets for her, perhaps she had just moved to another corner. But nothing. I thought about the thin line between people again and wondered if I was at the beginning of some sort of freaky life experience or time travel movie or something I can't explain. Perhaps she is a character in an RPG (role playing game) video game. And I must do the right thing for her in order to move forward in my quest. I wish I knew.
So, I walked back to work, with my lunch and this dollar in my hand. Wondering what to do with it. I gave it to the first homeless man I saw. Then someone at my work scolded me for giving the man the dollar because he has seen the man take a cab to our sidewalk to beg every morning. Thus, I felt terrible, like the woman's dollar was wasted.
My pretend grandma says her daughter's name is Patricia Kay. But I don't know how true that is. I live in Washington, DC and see Lydia on the street around 17th and K. Maybe someone out there knows them. Maybe this is what I am supposed to do.
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Doctor's appointment and sonogram tomorrow afternoon. I am excited to see the passengers again. To see how they are doing in there. They have been so quiet.
I just saw her again. My street grandma. Long time readers will know what I am talking about. The sometimes panhandling woman who I have talked to for years. I walked up to her today, not intending to give her money (because I didn't have any cash), but intending to ask her if I could get her something. Instead she hands me a dollar straight out of her cup and tells me to get myself a soda. I try to give it back, but she refuses. I say I can't drink soda because I pregnant. And to this, it is as if I am telling my real grandma that I am pregnant. She is so happy for me. So so happy. Her eyes sparkle with tears and I wonder if there is some thing in the world that links all people and lets you speak to those you can't speak to anymore through someone else. In my mind, I see the thin silver line between this woman and my own grandma, miles away in the Alzheimer's unit. And wonder if information can travel this way, from one unknown person to another.
Today, I learn my street grandma's name is Lydia. She wants to know if I know her daughter. I say I don't. She seems fine with that, but tells me to keep an eye out for her. She tells me about the little room on 11th street that her social security pays for. And I am relieved that she isn't homeless. I once again try to give her the dollar back, but she will not have it. We talk about the passengers and she wants to know what we will name them. This begins a ramble about famous queens and czars and things and about the history of Turkey for some reason and I see her mind isn't as clear as I thought it was. I tell her it is lovely to see her, as if we have just had some sort of tea party and she tells me she will be thinking of me.
I get my lunch and add in a bunch of things for her. Some strawberries, an apple and a box of raisins. I want to give her a variety to choose from. But as I exit into the sun, she is gone. I whisper to myself, perhaps she isn't real. But I have a dollar in my wallet to prove it. And I think of visiting my great grandmother when I was little and her sneaking a dollar under the table to me. As I got older, I would try to refuse the money as I did today. It seems that all grandmas are linked somehow, I suppose. And there is this thin line between all people and we are lucky when we can see it. It usually hides from us so.
First entry today: Place past fear
Someone just emailed me about my captain's log on the place past fear. This was my email response:
I remember the first time I got to that place past fear. A friend and I went on the Batwing rollercoaster. No, really. I was flying face down on the rollercoaster, looking at the ground below me, thinking, if I die right now, it is ok. I can't be afraid anymore of anything. I was so quiet. And Brian kept screaming next to me, "Are you ok?" And all the times I was ever afraid in my whole life passed before me. And I thought, this is the place past fear. This is the calm after fear. The fear of being afraid is far worse than the actual fear, ya know? But the calm after you accept the fear is the thing, the strength.
I just remember thinking... this is how I will get through giving birth someday. This is how I will get through whatever life sends me. I will remember this place, flying through the air, looking down at the green green grass and I will tell myself to step right beyond the fear and grab the calm. And to stop being afraid of being afraid.
And now to the less serious part. Someday, I hope to get Jeff on a rollercoaster! Or perhaps my passengers will be little daredevils like me and their dad can stay safely on the ground like the smart person that he is.
No really, we are:
Bloggers, Meet the Pod People -- Washington Post
real entry: I am wobbly today. Wobble wobble. Weebles wobble but they don't fall down. This is my first wobbly day in a week and it is kinda nice because it reminds me of the passengers. Everyone talks about how the second trimester of pregnancy is so great because you aren't sick anymore and aren't too big yet. And while I am enjoying those things, it is also easy to forget that you are pregnant at all. I was thinking this morning, that perhaps it is only easy for me because I know what it is like to be fatter than I was 4 months ago. I have gained 18 pounds and next to the 70 that I lost in the past year, this is nothing. I can barely tell. But to a "normal-sized" woman, this might be a horribly devastating development. Not for me! So, my state of wobble reminded me that I am growing two babies. And this made me so happy.
I am a happy wobbly plumpling and that is ok by me.
This morning, in the elevator leaving home, I thought that I had forgotten something. Then it hit me, I have forgotten the babies! Then I laughed because I can't forget the babies, they are inside of me. Silly yeti.
Things I love this morning.
:: Getting my new sneakers splashed with rain water. The girl next to me at the bus stop was horrified at her newly wet feet. I was elated and jumped back like it was a game.
:: The sound of the violin. But not the sound of the violin played by old people, but the sound of the violin played by the young. The way a violin can be used just as a guitar would be. Also the words chronical and accordian.
:: The way that cold rain can so suddenly become giant snowflakes. Rain is a thing and snow is people.
:: The way this boy on the bus was so worried about making sure he got off at his stop. And how his dirty sneakers didn't touch the floor when he sat down.
Disappointment never lasts too long. We are always laughing by morning. We are. We do.
New podcast has been posted.
Seamonsters Restaurant Fuel Podcast #2 -- 3/6/05 -- 25 minutes long!
I tried my italk this morning, but the street was too too loud. I will have to try it again on the inside world. I talked a little about how when you are pregnant, you get so used to being 16 weeks pregnant, but that doesn't last long at all and before you know it (tomorrow) you have to get used to being 17 weeks pregnant and it moves so so fast. Like a rollercoaster once you get over the first hill. Today, my world is so lovely. All warm and breezes. It makes me want to ride a rollercoaster. It makes me want to see the place past fear. The excitement of it.
[recording podcast segment about this... see future broadcast for more]
I am rediscovering my favorite things. The joys of the second trimester are not only that I am not throwing up in anyone's garden, but also that I can enjoy myself and everything I loved before I got pregnant. Like: music and the breeze and colors. Before last week, all of those things were kind of sickly because I was sickly. But now, I feel like the world is alive and I can enjoy it again. I put Suki on shuffle and she reminds me of all of my old friends. Maritime and Miss Kitten and anything else by Davey (The Promise Ring). It makes me want to name all of my babies Davey. [who the hell is Davey, anyway? http://www.maritimesongs.com]
These past few months made me think there was no way that I could enjoy pregnancy. But here I am singing it's praises like a silly convert. I wonder if biologically, this happy time happens so that women don't hurt themselves. I wasn't sure I could take another day of being dizzy and pukey. Now I walk around with my hand on my back or tummy and I am a huge cliche. And it is ok.
i am amazed by my own level of clever. ::::::i said this to someone today, "we are complicated men, you and i." for some reason it made me laugh big big.::::::
It is 10:47 and I can't sleep. I suppose this is because I slept from the time I got home today until 8pm. Now I fear I will be up all night. It was a hard sleep. A dreamless sleep. Something I needed.
I had a disappointing day. We didn't find out what the passengers are and we were very angry at first, but now just kinda blah.
For now, the identity of my passengers is stil a mystery to me. And in some ways it isn't. It is a weird place to be. To want to know someone so much. And yet already know them so well.
For a while my hair was fading to a very pale pink and lavendar. I figured that since I couldn't re-bleach, I would just do with the pale colors I was becoming. I have to say that I also thought, well, I am becoming a mom, I won't need to be so crazy with my appearance anymore. I have to say this was just a little bit of depression that made me think that way.
On Sunday, Jeff took a bath to soak his poor broken toe. This gave me a reason to hang out in the bathroom for a while and talk to him. Hmm, what can I do in the bathroom for that long? I searched through the linen closet for my hair dyes and found one that I had never used. Atomic Pink! As long as I don't bleach, I am fine. So I went at it. And now I have this full head of Atomic Pink hair with like 2 inches of brown roots. I feel like a rock star. Haha.
I just went outside to get my lunch and the sun is happy, but the air is still cold. Spring is still dressed like winter. And her wind blows my pink hair everywhere. And I am the only pink haired pregnant girl on the streets of downtown Washington. And this makes me feel special even though I am special without those things. But this makes me feel like a giant ball of joy. I am a force of joy. I am. I am. A force. I am.
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