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If my labor and delivery had a baseball-type trading card, the statistics on the back would look something like this:
Attempts it took to insert my first IV: 5
Hours it took to induce labor: 20
Hours of active labor: 15
Hours of trying to push out Baby A: 3
Number of monitors attached to me during said 38 hours: 3
Minutes it took my doctor to decide it was time for a c-section: 2
Days we thought we would be in the hosiptal following a c-section: 4
Days we were actually in the hosiptal: 10
Number of uterus infections I got during labor: 1
Number of people in the room during my c-section: more than 12
Number of babies born: 2
Number of days the girls were away from us in the NICU: 3
Number of days of IV fluids it took before the fluid began to enter my lungs: 4
Number of catheters: 3
Number of times I had blood taken: around 20
Number of chest Xrays: 2
Number of CT scans: 2 (one of my heart and lungs, one of my uterus)
Number of Echocardiogram: 1
Number of doctors and medical students on my case: around 15
Final diagnosis from said doctors: pneumonia and fluid on the lungs from too much IV fluids, plus uterus infection from labor and of course the c-section itself
Temperature I had to stay below for 24 hours straight before I could leave the hospital: 38 C or 100.4
So, hopefully the above list tells most of the story. Basically, being induced was a bad idea. Yes, it started my labor, but it took way too long and all that time on IV fluids was too much for my body to handle. The fluids entered my lungs and then I got pnemonia. I also got a uterine infection during labor, which had something to do with when Rachel's water broke. After 15 hours of active labor and 3 hours of pushing (with the help of many female residents who work for my doctor), the party was over when my doctor came to check on me. I was 10 centimeters dialated and Rachel's head was at station 1, but my doctor used the sonogram machine to see that Anya had changed postions from head down to transverse across my tummy again, she was having none of this pushing!!!! So, no matter what, Anya would have been delivered c-section.
The decision to have a c-section was made and I have to say I was relieved. After 38 hours of work, I was ready to see these babies. It only took about 10 minutes before I was in the operating room, completely numb on a a thin table with my arms strapped down. The room was beautiful, so bright and white. Above me were these huge sci-fi looking lights and I thought, that is so beautiful. I wasn't afraid at all. I was actually excited to be almost done. Sometime after the numbing was done, I began to shake. It was all over, shaking. This, too, I almost enjoyed. It was so much better than being strapped to that labor bed with all those monitors. The shaking made me feel alive and awake in that bright bright room.
They finally let Jeff in the room, all dressed in scrubs. With his little red glasses, he looked so serious and fatherly. He told me how he had met a set of newborn twin boys in the recovery room before coming to be with me. It must have been such a positive thing for him to see and he shared the story with such excitement. Before we knew it, I was opened up and I could feel them tugging at Rachel. After those 3 hours of pushing, she was deep in my pelvis. I could feel them trying to wiggle her out by her feet. And then she was out and I felt empty where she had been wedged prior. It felt like forever, but two minutes later, Anya, too, was freed from my tummy. Before her liberation, I felt them break her water, gushing fluid all over my insides.
It must have been 30 minutes before the scrub-clad team were done cleaning up the girls and brought them to us. They were red and puffy and smaller than I thought they would be. Jeff and I were shocked by their features, though. They had the most interesting little noses and the most petite little faces. They looked nothing like most newborns look. We were warned that most newborns look like wringled old men. But not these girls. Jeff said it first, I think. "They look like tiny elves!" he said. And they did and they do.
And that ends the most important part of my hospital stay. The arrival of my tiny elves.
Of course we were in the hosiptal for 8 more days, during which the girls went to the NICU to be checked for traces of my infection, none was found. But they were successfully taught to drink formula from a bottle during this time of course, something that I was instantly upset about. By day 3, the fluid in my lungs was found when I woke up at 5 am, not being able to breathe. Days of searching for heart trouble, blood clots and who knows what else pointed to pneumonia. All the while, Jeff and his mom and I had to learn how to take care of twins in a tiny hospital room, while I was hooked to oxygen and IVs and catheters, recovering from a c-section. It was stressful to say the least. People could hand me babies, but mostly I just watched from bed.
I left the hospital after 10 days, with a prescription for the strongest antibodic around, thus also with instructions to not breastfeed for two weeks. My girls were already having trouble latching on since they were so small and only 37 weeks gestation. Now, I had toxic milk to deal with. Breastfeeding is on hold for now, so I pump and dump every 3 hours and feed my babies this gross formula. Yuck!
We are home and everyday gets easier. Being sick in the hospital made it hard to bond with the girls, but now I find it hard to put them back in their crib after they have been fed and changed. I love to feel their soft little heads against my chest, just like in the dreams I had before they were born.
This is just an update to let people know that we are all ok. It has been over a week and I just got home. Yes, we were in the hospital for 10 days. Girls were born on day 2. Then other things started happening, not to them, but to me. I will go into huge detail later, but just so you know, we are all home now and healthy and tired. Look for a real update tomorrow.
Rachel Leigh Barrus was born on July 28th, at 5:59 pm via c-section. She weighed 5 pounds and 3 ounces and was 18 1/2 inches long.
Anya Kathryn Barrus was born on July 28th, at 6:01 pm via c-section. She weighed 5 pounds and 3 -1/2 ounces and was 18 1/2 inches long.
Both look like tiny elves.
Thanks to everyone who has written with kind words of encouragement. I am off to be induced and meet my tiny girls. Thank you for thinking of us. Hopefully Jeff will post pictures in the next few days, or at least let you know that we are all ok. Maybe I will be home by the weekend!!! That would be rad.
I have two days left, well one now that today is over. Then I will climb a mountain that may be terribly difficult to climb or not. I will have no idea until I get there. What I do know is that I will have the biggest job ahead of me when I get to the top.
I spent a good hour in bed today listening to my ipod and thinking. I mostly listened to a boy named Davey sing songs about love and houses and dancing. Davey has a lovely raspy yet girly voice. He has had a hard time in his life and yet he makes art about being happy. Davey made me think about the fact that someday one or both of my girls will be in love. And my hopes are that they will fall in love with someone like these songs I am listening to. Someone kind and giving and smart, someone like my Jeff. Thinking of the future of my girls' love life made me remember a dream that I had before I even knew that my girls were girls. A dream in which one of my girls was at a party, wearing two hats and waiting for her sister to arrive. She meets a boy, a thin boy not unlike her father. They talk outside in the cold about why she doesn't like parties. He builds things for a living and has the most interesting and wonderul blue snowflake tattoos on his face. She is falling in love with the snowflake boy.
I realized just now that the scene I dreamt is not unlike the day Jeff and I started dating. We were outside in the dark, escaping a room full of people. It was raining and we were talking about a girl that he liked. He told me that he didn't like her anymore, that he liked someone else. "Who? I asked." You, silly, he said. So simple and uncomplicated. This is what I want for my girls. Love. Uncomplicated. I want my girls to know love the way I do.
As if ordering a meal yesterday, my doctor let us schedule the birth of our tiny girls. Even though both babies are head down, he asked if we wanted a vaginal or c-section birth. I must have looked him like he was crazy. So, we are scheduled to be induced next Wednesday, July 27th. I have to say that I am a little unhappy about this... about not being able to go into labor naturally. But apparently this doctor and hospital takes the 37 weeks is full term for twins very seriously. My labor is being induced at 37 weeks, 1 day. I really do hope that this is what is best for me and the babies and not just what is best for the doctor and hospital. My negative feelings toward my doctor are coloring my ability to cope a bit.
Yesterday my blood pressure was 130/80 instead of the 120/70 that my doctor likes. He mentioned that the babies were still head down and to that I said, "yes, they are good girls." To this he said, "too bad their mom isn't." Nice. I wanted to say, "you try weighing 295 pounds and carrying twins in the middle of the summer and not having slightly elevated blood pressure!" What an ass. Jeff and I have agreed that if we ever get pregnant again, we are going with warm, fuzzy, crunchy, new age-y midwives all the way.
Anyway. Had to get that last bit of negative out. :) Now, I need to prepare myself for the coming work that I need to do. I have read many stories of being induced and like all labor stories, some are easy and fast and some are long and hard. I don't know what to expect. What I do know is that I need to try and have a positive attitude and a sense of humor and face my fears and work hard to not have this end in a c-section.
I keep wondering how much hair my girls will have. It is something that I am a little obsessed with. I think it is keeping my mind off of other things.
Oh and yes, I have gained back all 70 pounds. I would have made it through with only 50 pounds gained without this past month of bedrest. I know I will drop the pounds, but this feels terrible. It isn't really the baby weight that feels so bad, but the size of my legs and thighs (which just got worse and worse with said bed rest). Oh well. It could have been worse and next Wednesday I will likley drop about 20 or more pounds. :)
And the numbers..... Rachel is now 5 pounds and 12 ounces and her once bigger sister Anya is now 5 pounds and 8 ounces! Of course this is done via a machine with measurements and math and such, so who knows how accurate it is. But, yes both of my girls are over 5 1/2 pounds now. Which means I am carrying more than 11 pounds of babies in me and I am just fine, thank you! I think I could carry 14 if I had to. During the sonogram, Anya was wiggling around and you could see it from outside of my tummy, like in Alien or Aliens or whatever. It looks more like waves, than pushing to get out. So Rachel gained 2 pounds in 3 weeks!
We are now past the crazy scary tiny baby phase. Our babies would not even have to go to the NICU for being too small at this point. If I can keep them in there for a few more weeks, I might have 6 plus pound babies! Now I feel like I wanna compete in some growing babies show or something. "Can she get them to 7 pounds before she is induced!" What kind of a prize would I get on such a show?
Our doctor was very nice and happy. Whoohoo! He said we could induce at 37 or 38 weeks. I would really rather wait to 38 as I would like to just go into labor naturally rather than be induced, but we will see. These people, they want to manage everything! Oh, if you are wondering, twins are induced at 37 or 38 weeks because it is possible that the placenta could stop working under the strain, at least that is what I have read. There might be another reason, but I can't remember.
Tomorrow is our big move across the hall. Dude, I am going to have babies soon. How crazy is that? Super crazy. Nap time, now.
I just looked down to see a piece of brownie in my pink hair. Haven't dyed my hair in months and months, so the atomic pink has faded to a really shiny strawberry. The brownie looks like cake on icing. This is my excitement. This is this formerly and yet again fat girl on bed rest. I am not feeling bad for myself. I am laughing as I type this.
3 more pounds and I will have gained back all the weight I struggled to lose. And I am ok, most minutes. About once a day, I feel like Jabba the Hut. I have probably gained about 15 pounds in the past month and I know for a fact it is about the bed rest. Luckily as soon as these girls get here, I will never have time to sit down again. There are a few food items that I have been ictching to eat, though. Goobers! I think about them all the time. Sushi! Lamb with cucumber sauce! Trying to keep my salt intake down and being stuck at home has made me think of food again, like the fat girl of the past did. This is of great concern to me. Hopefully, it will go away as soon as I can eat what I like for a few weeks after the birth. Hopefully I won't have to re-teach myself good habits. I know that the exercise will come easily because that has always been an emotional thing for me and I am so emotionally ready for that treadmill!
My tummy is so big that I can't reach Jeff across the great middle that is our giant bed. This makes me dream about him. I dreamt the other night that he asked me to marry him. And that he smelled like a man, whatever that means. These two things were very funny things to dream because we are married and Jeff doesn't really have a smell. It is also funny because it is such a girlie thing to dream. So not me. I wonder if it is the hormones of the tiny girls pumping through me like some feminine crazy drug. Pregnancy has tamed me a lot, but making me dream of marriage proposals is just too far! I want my brain back!
Even though the labor and delivery of my girls is looming over me, I feel like it will never really happen. That perhaps I am stuck in some kind of a loop and I will be this pregnant forever. Some minutes it is very easy, and others I can barely turn in bed or walk. I dreamt the other night that I lost my mucus plug. If you don't know what that is, sorry for having to tell you about it. It is what it sounds like, a plug of blood and mucus that you lose when you get close to giving birth. It is like a cork, if you will. So, I lost my mucus plug in my dream and it looked like a little brain molded out of clear glue. I think as long as it waits a few weeks, I am looking forward to seeing my mucus plug. I want to name him when I see him. I want to greet him as you would a blind date. Hello, I don't know what you will bring, but I hope it is good. I've never had a blind date, so what do I know.
I can't wait to see who my girls look like. I hope they have lots of soft baby monkey hair like Jeff did when he was born. Tomorrow, we have a sonogram for growth. Will let you know how much they weigh tomorrow. We are hoping over 5 pounds each.
You would think that being home on bedrest would make me write more. Frankly, I have not enjoyed working (like for work) via laptop in bed these past few weeks, so I avoid the laptop on off-hours. I never knew that I would yearn to sit at a desk and type.
It is 7:45 on Sunday night and Jeff is cleaning the living room because the building manager is bringing someone by tomorrow to look at our apartment. Yep, you heard me correctly. I have had a busy busy week for a very pregnant girl. Last week, I noticed our neighbor across the hall move out. Then later in the week, the exterminator knocked on the door and by the time I got there to tell him "no, thank you exterminator!" he was already across the hall with the door to the empty apartment open. I peaked in and oh my! That apartment was huge and empty and pretty and and and.
So by Thursday last week, I had it all settled and in less than a week, we will be completing the move across the hall. The apartment is still only a one bedroom, but it is a one bedroom with a huge solarium. A big round room of windows that looks out over the park and it is a perfect nursery for my tiny girls. Sure, the kitchen is off of it and you might call it a dining room if you thought such things existed. But I am not the type of girl who has ever had a dining room, so we will not speak of such things. The rest of the apartment is also bigger, too.
Now, all this wonderfulness must be costing us a fortune in this crazy city. Of course it is, but when I asked the building manager for the price, he told me a number that I wasn't too keen to hear. There I was, all super pregnant, carrying 9 or 10 pounds of babies and without missing a beat, I told him what I wanted to pay. I just did it. In this housing market, a month before Washington, D.C., will be teaming with a whole freshman class of college students from Idaho or where ever, whose parents would love to set them up in such a lovely place and pay full price, I haggled. These past few months, Jeff has remarked on my amazing negotiating skills. I used them to get our new car for 2k less than the sticker price, I use them every day with Jeff and there I was using them to get an apartment for what I wanted to pay for it.
And what an easy move this will be! We aren't even packing. Jeff has been carting things over in our grocery cart all day and next weekend our parents and some friends will be coming over to help. By next sunday, we will be completely moved and our tiny girls will have a nursery. And like a dining room, I never thought I would be the type of person to have a nursery. I always thought I'd be plopping my babies down in the living room or in bed with us. While this only solves our housing woes for the next year, it is a huge relief. And I must say, it is also the most extreme nesting of all time.
Last week's doctor's appointments went great because my doctor was on vacation and I saw another one. I saw another doctor who didn't bat an eye at my 5 pound weight gain in one week. I am sure this upcoming week will not be the same, but I felt like I was on vacation, too. This other doctor actually asked me if I had questions. Amazing. I finally asked the when question and who questions. Answer to the when is 38 weeks. Since I have twins, they would likely let me go 38 weeks before inducing or doing a c-section. But since my girls are head down, it would be inducing. That means that yes, I will likely have babies in 3 weeks if not sooner. Jeff thinks I will go all the way to 38 weeks. We will see. The answer to the who question was that any of 6 doctors could deliver if I deliver vaginally. A c-section would be done by my doctor. Whoohoo! Just what I wanted to hear. I will be so happy if I don't have that man barking at me when I am trying to push out two babies.
I just looked down and didn't recognize my own legs. They are so huge and meaty. Not swelling, just fat! I have now gained 60 pounds while pregnant. Not too bad, I suppose, but, boy, do I feel it. I go to the bathroom to pee and examine my face. My nose is wider than before, which I have noticed a lot during this whole pregnancy. But I see a new thing now. My lips seem so full and pink. They are almost as pink as my hair. I remember when I was about 14, I always thought I had the thinnest lips. I wonder if I was right or just overly sensitve to my appearance then. Because today, I am all pucker-y. I wonder if it is the hormones of the two girls inside of me.
Jeff and I both had vivid dreams of the girls the other night. In both of our dreams, one girl had a very specific personality and the other another. We both dreamed that Anya was outgoing and talky while Rachel was more quiet and calm. I hope that we don't push these things on them, but it is weird that we dreamed that the same night.
I realize that I haven't listened to my ipod in a month, so I turn her own and listen to the Mountain Goats and Heavenly. And as usual, the music reminds me of the old me. And I wonder if the old me will be back when this is all over or if the new me will somehow re-absorb her into this new person. I can't wait to see.
Jeff and I have spent the long weekend watching Bill Murray movies and eating brownies. Is this what normal people do with their last few weeks of freedom?
Before Bill and the brownies, our friends, Michael and Edie were so so kind to come over and entertain me for all of Saturday. All day! It really did make me feel more normal to have other people in the house for the day. Jeff made BBQ and I even got to eat on the roof of the building, which was my only trip out of the apartment besides going to the doctor in the past two weeks. Poor me, being made to stay out of the Washington summer. :)
Of course, Saturday actually took a lot out of me and made me very very tired and Jeff kept telling me that my vacation to the couch would be over if I didn't spend more time in bed. And I know that starting Tuesday, I will be back in bed full time.
Tuesday! Tuesday marks 34 weeks pregnant. Jeff says he feels like we are in a holding pattern now. That it just feels like we are waiting now. But, I am kinda hoping we still have 3 or 4 more weeks. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be 40 weeks pregnant with twins, since 37 is often thought of as full term for twins, but I don't want to go into labor now either and deal with tiny babies. But I understand his feelings of things being on hold. He has put together the crib, we have hundreds and hundreds of diapers stock piled and it seems that we can sit and watch my belly grow. I often wonder if it would have gotten this big with just one baby. And then I wonder how much bigger it can possibly get. Maybe Jeff will take a picture for me tomorrow to post.
I was reading some old posts about weight loss the other day. And I realized something. That first weight loss journey was really just a dress rehearsal. Sure, I lost 70 pounds. Well, now I have gained 55 of it back. It is easy to forget that. I know that it is a different kind of weight and that I will likely drop 20 pounds or so giving birth. But these past few weeks in bed have made me totally take a look at how big my bum and thighs have gotten again. Don't get me wrong. I am not worrying over them, just sort of exploring old territory.
I am really looking forward to getting back into this challenge of losing weight again. And this time, I won't just be losing the baby weight, but I will get to continue the original journey. I am a little curious to see how easy or hard it will really be. How much breastfeeding really helps, how much time I will have for exercise, how hungry breastfeeding will make me, how much I will have to eat to breastfeed two babies. Don't think that I am stressing over these things. I am curious, the way one would be about visiting a foriegn land for the first time. It isn't an emotional thing like the first time I lost the weight, it is more intellectual. I am hoping the emotional issues surrounding weight for me are completely gone. I am even curious to see if that is the case. Because I found it really is emotional issues that keep us fat and unhealthy.
So. 34 weeks and being pregnant with twins is finally getting hard for me. It is hard to sleep and hard to stay awake. I have begun to be able to feel contractions about once a day, but they go away quickly by drinking water and resting. But really, I still don't think I am AS uncomfortable as I was at my most fat and unhealthy. Isn't that fascinating?
On Tuesday, we had some great victories at the doctor's appointments. I thought it was starting out badly when during our BPP (biophysical profile of the babies), Rachel was asleep and wouldn't wake up to be profiled. And since she is the smaller one, I thought there would be trouble. But nope, the sono tech kept poking at her through my tummy to get her to wake up. Then I decided to try. I started talking to her to get her to wake up and she did! Crazy. The babies passed the BPP and then my amniotic fluid levels went from an 11 two weeks ago to a 16.5.
When I got in to see the doctor, my blood pressure was up because I didn't want to be scolded by him. So the nurse let me lay down and calm down for 5 minutes. When she came back my blood pressure had gone from 140/90 to 120/70. We all cheered! My doctor was very happy with my numbers and even smiled at me! Crazy. It might have helped that I reminded him that he would be on vacation next week.
Jeff and I felt like we had won a great battle by not being checked into Labor and Devliery like our last two appointments. We have another sonogram on Friday to track Rachel's growth. Let's hope that goes just as well.
Then on Tuesday night, one of my best friends in the world gave me a call. And I mean, *in the world!*. Eileen called me from Chile! So exciting. I hadn't "talked" to her via voice in over a year and it was so nice to hear her voice. She was my number one cheerleader during the early parts of my weight loss journey and I can never repay her for that. I remember weighing 300 pounds and feeling so bad about myself on those first summer days of living in the city. And there was this fit girl walking her bike slowly home from work with me as I struggled. At first I tried to hide my struggling from her. But then she taught me that I didn't have to. It was the beginning of embracing my journey. Not hating myself anymore. She did so many other things for me during our friendship. I learned a lot from her about being a giving and supportive friend. I found out that she will likely be in DC during my late July window of tiny girl arrival. She won't be here for the best reasons for her, but secretly I am thrilled. I want her to see what her wonderful friendship has helped me to do. I want her to see my passengers.
Thinking of my friendship with Eileen reminds me how every interaction that you have with people can take you in new directions and spark new ways of thinking and dreaming and living. A million little things started me on my journey to lose the weight and a million little things kept me on it. But would those things have worked without that specific friendship? Or a dozon other things? It makes you think about how you walk through life. Should you smile or talk to that person today? Do you have the energy to encourage someone? I am not saying that we can or should try to save everyone. I am just saying that sometimes little connections can make a huge difference in someone else's life. They can become long paths to other things and you may never know it.
Tomorrow marks one week on bed rest. Whoohoo! It has taken me that long to realize that this isn't all about me. That this is really about the tiny girls and keeping the tiny girls inside for longer. I am lucky that no one wrote to tell me that in such a harsh way, because I wasn't ready to hear it.
It took a few things this week to make me realize that I am nearly 33 weeks pregnant with twins and that gone are the carefree days of 24 weeks pregnant or even 28. I am no longer beat the drum of how strong I am and must begin to listen to my body, really listen, because it is starting to tell me new things now, things that I wasn't ready for.
Friday's doctor appointment did two things. One, we found out that Anya is now 4 lbs 3 oz, while Rachel is 3 lbs 15 oz. Rachel was hard to measure and thus the sonogram tech couldn't get an accurate measurement on Rachel's tummy. Thus, her tummy is measuring small for her gestational age, which is cause for some concern. Enough so, that we will now be seeing the doctor 3 times a week. This caution is important because one twin could very suddenly stop growing and I don't want to be sitting around while Rachel isn't growing.
The second thing that happened was that my blood pressure was once again up because I was stressed out about having to get my blood pressure checked. Go figure. So off to 'Labor and Delivery' we went to be admitted. After a few hours or monitoring, I once again had no real signs of pre-eclampsia. My blood pressure went straight down as soon as we got there. But then, right when we thought we would be going home, in runs TWO doctors with a sonogram machine. "Aren't you feeling these contractions!!!??" one said. Frankly, Jeff and I were talking about how I would really like him to make me some pancakes and no I didn't feel anything. Looking at the monitor, though, I saw them! They were these huge huge well spaced mountains on the print out. Full, nice contractions. But I felt nothing. I got a shot of something to make them stop, got my cervix checked and was made to drink lots and lots of water. My cervix was fine, still hard and closed. The shot made my heart race and race. It took a while, but the filling up and emptying my bladder of water made the contractions stop. Poor Jeff had to go home and walk Archie while we waited for my uterus to calm down and must have been totally freaked out.
By about 8pm, my uterus was tamed and I was released with the new fear of silent, but strong and mighty contractions.
I read that some women pregnant with twins can't feel contractions because their uterus is too stretched. So it isn't just me. But Saturday and Sunday, I paid very close attention to my body and noticed that I indeed do have two or three contractions in the morning that only go away with lots and lots of water. Now, I have a healthy respect and fear of premature birth that my former, "look how strong I am" attitude wouldn't allow. This is good for the tiny girls.
So, it is bed rest for me for the rest of this pregnancy, along with 3 appts a week. I am not upset about this. I have seen the doctors let me go home and am not afraid of being sent to the hospital for weeks on end. Frankly, at 33 weeks, I most likely only have 4 to 5 weeks to go. And carrying 8 pounds of baby around right now is hard. What will it be like when there are 10 pounds of baby in there? Or even more? oh my! I get to continue to work from home via my laptop for a while even though I have to spend some time on my left side everyday.
I am lucky for this time. I am getting to bond with the girls more. I have begun to dream of them again, something that went away for a month or so there. Two recent dreams: First I dreamt that I tried to put on my shoes and rather than shoes I could only find babies. Second, I dreamt that my great grandma called me into her dark room, like she did when i was a kid. She called me to give me something or show me something. But instead of a great grandma, I felt around in her bed to find this tiny soft head of short hair. And tiny soft limbs. I found babies who wanted to breastfeed. The softest little heads in the world.
And I get to spend these next 4 or 5 weeks, if I am lucky, with these little soft heads and not with the rest of the world to distract me. I know I will get to spend more time than that with them, but this is probably some of the most important time in their lives right now, this last month of growth inside of me. Yes, me!
Monday's doctor appointment landed me on bed rest at home. My doctor is still concerned about the possiblity that I will develop pre-eclampsia, although I do not have it yet.
I am working from home via laptop and try not to spend too much time sitting up, thus I haven't written much or responded to emails. Hopefully I will be able to do that later today.
Jeff is being so wonderful, cooking all my meals and taking care of me. But it has been stressful for both of us.
Friday, I have another appointment and my doctor is threatening to "admit me" to the hospital and once again, I have no idea what that means. I don't mind staying on bedrest for the next 5 weeks or so, as long as I can do it at home. I think that my doctor is judging me a bit based on the pink hair and the fact that I seem light-hearted about most things. I hate him for this. I really do. I am a very serious person, who deals with things in a light-hearted way to survive. It is just how I am. I hate that he is taking the joy out of these last few weeks for us. Caution is one thing, but this man has no joy.
With every appointment, I feel as if my faith in my ability to do this is being damaged, all for caution. He is concerned about my weight and swelling, two things that are symptoms of pre-eclampsia. But frankly, he doesn't know me. He doens't know that I have only gained 50 pounds after being pregnant 8 months with twins! He doesn't care about that, he only cares about the overall weight and how rapid I gain it. Last time I checked, pregnant women gain weight and have swollen feet. Anyway, I am the strongest and healthiest I have ever ever been and I need to remember that. I will follow his instructions, so that I don't develop pre-eclampsia, but I will not let him crush my spirit. Now I know why women go to midwives.
I am trying to submit while retaining my inner strength. There isn't much time left. I just hope I can continue to spend that time here, in my own bed with my lovely husband taking care of me, rather than in the hospital where I will be treated like I have a disease.
Bouncing back. It is easy. Watch me.
Yesterday, I found myself swirling down the drain. Swirling, swirling, swirling. Yesterday was the second day in a row that I worked from home this week. The second day in a row that I didn't go out into the invisible wall of heat that DC has been this past week. The second day that I didn't change out of my sleep pants. The second day that I did my work in the little corner of our apartment, with the TV on. Yesterday, my feet were so swollen that I couldn't wear shoes.
So by last night, I was swirling down the drain. It was so easy to get there, too. And I know that things like not showering and having the insipid daytime TV on in the background made it worse worse worse.
I went to bed last night, not thinking I would ever be happy again. Really. I did. Isn't that lame? I let these feelings spill over into the my future. Spill over into what it will be like to be home with two tiny girls.
But, get this... this morning I woke up completely fine. There is magic in the bounce back. Amazing magic. I woke up rested and not swollen and ready for the day. I thought, if only it could have been like this when I was depressed years ago. Morning. Wake up. Pow! All better. Is it the power of the tiny girls inside my tummy? Did they spirit away my swirling in the night? If so, thank you tiny girls.
I spent some time this morning thinking of things that will make me happy again when the girls get here. First is shoes. Yes, shoes. I can't wait to have my normal feet back so that I can wear my cute shoes. I know that sounds silly. But if you are a Mary Janes girl, you know what I mean. I am sick of wearing the ugly sneakers like when I was the biggest fat girl. I want to slip my feet into shoes that don't match the rest of my clothes. I want to be free of these huge feet. Another thing is running. I want to be able to run again. I want to feel my muscles move and work like they should. Like the best machine in the world.
I finally finished this post!
This picture is of my tummy full of tiny girls. Everyone is always so surprised that it isn't bigger.
I have a towel around my neck because it was 90 degrees outside. I look like a pregnant boxer.
I have to say that I was a little nervous about going to our baby shower. I am not fond of being the center of attention. To this, I can hear Jeff laughing. Ok, I am not fond of being the center of attention in that kind of setting, with that many people for a "normal" event, like a baby shower or a birthday or a wedding or something.
We had the shower outside at Allen Pond in Bowie where my parents live and there were about 50 people there. All family and friends. I got to see lots of people who I hardly ever see, which was rad. But then there was also some guilt about that because Jeff and I sorta live in this little pod here in the city. No matter. Everyone we know is excited about the fact that we are having twins, not to mention twin girls! And it showed in the volume of tiny pink clothes that we got.
No really, people were just so very generous. It was crazy. Here is a picture of Jeff and I dwarfed by presents. Some people went overboard, we would open a bag and literally pull out 5 or 6 sets of two outfits. Most of the time, they were "the same, but different" which made me happy. A few times they were identical, which Jeff and I have been pretty against. But seeing those little matching outfits, you can see how people would have a hard time avoiding doing it. We figured that a few matching outfits won't hurt the girls for the 0-3 months sizes. But after that, we will have a strict policy of individualizing them. I am sure they will want to dress alike at some point. Not sure how I will handle that, but we will see.
Besides clothes, we got all kinds of other things, including, a changing table, Snugli Front and Back Carriers, sleep sacks, bath towels and products, breast pump, monitors, diaper genie, toys, bouncy seats, gift cards, homemade blankets... the list goes on and on. :) Oh! and diapers! Diapers and wipes. I think we got at least 400 diapers, which by my count will last about a month with two babies. :)
This is a picture of Jeff and I opening the present from our friends, Lisa and Jonah. The people in the background are my brother and sister! I don't think we have had a picture of all of us together since I was 12 or something. Lisa and Jonah's card and presents were the only ones to make me cry all day! And I am pregnant, you'd think that I would have been crying all day long. I have known Lisa since like 8th grade and I am so happy that I still know her. She also brought a card from her mom and dad, which was also emotional for me. I spent so much time running around their house in high school. Thinking back, it is funny to think that that loud teenager is about to become a mother to two tiny girls. Not that I don't still act like a loud teenager most times, at least I did before I got pregnant. Being pregnant has calmed me a bit.
A lot of my extended family that came to the shower hadn't seen me since I lost 70 pounds and got pregnant and gained 50 back. That is a long time! So, many people were very surprised when they saw me. My cousin, Machelle, said the best thing... "You must have lost A LOT of weight." That made me happy.
Sorry this post is so jumbled. The whole day was a little overwhelming. I think we got a taste of what birthday parties or other events held in Rachel and Anya's honor will be like. And I am not sure if I want the girls to get that many gifts and or attention when they are little. I don't want to raise spoiled children. But then again, people love twins, so I think it will be a delicate balance.
The whole day happened because my parents set it up and worked really hard in the heat to make it nice for us. Here is a picture of them and Jeff and I at the end of the day, all very over-heated.
All of the presents barely fit in our car. I wish I had a picture of that. All the men started walking the presents to the car and looked like a line of ants marching with breadcrumbs. I say the whole day was overwhelming. But it was also a little surreal. Jeff and I are not baby shower people. We are not family gathering people. We are, let's go to the movies on Xmas people. And to be the center of something like that was strange for us. And to see how generous people were was just, well, overwhelming. I think it taught us that we need to spend more time being family gathering people, while still being art gallery/video game/going to the movies on Xmas people. I think with the tiny girls, it will be a delicate balance.
So this morning, we went in for the dreaded "re-evaluation". Weight was 5 pounds less than Wednesday thanks to the fact that I elevated those legs like crazy and got the fluid down. But my blood pressure was higher than Wednesday.
So off to "Labor and Delivery" we went! Eek! Then the only words our doctor said to us were, YOU ARE BEING ADMITTED, which was the only thing we didn't want to hear. Once in the hospital room, I met a very nice nurse named Gwen who explained to me that I was just being admitted for observation and if all was well, it would only take a few hours. I got a heartbeat monitor for each baby, a monitor for contractions and a blood pressure cuff for me. I barely noticed when she drew lots and lots of blood. What a good blood taker she was!
Then a medical student came in and asked me a million questions, which she was going to report to a resident.
Of the 5 or so blood pressure readings they did, one was a little high, while the others were completely fine. We heard the babies' heartbeats and kicks via machine for the whole 2 hours we were in there. And oh my! Rachel is the crazy mover and kicker, which we knew, but oh my! :) She just moved and moved and kicked and kicked. Sometimes Anya would respond to her, sometimes not. The sounds of the kicks on the fetal monitor reminded us of being in a submarine, not that either of us have ever been in one, but that is what it was like.
After all of my blood work and observing came back, the resident OB came to see me. She was young and female and sunny, the opposite of our very very serious Perinatologist(sp). She told me everything looked fine and was very very positive and not at all grave. Basically she told me what I know and that is that I am fine for now with very healthy and happy babies in there. I will continue to be monitored to make sure that I don't develop pre-eclampsia and I should continue to take it easy, working from home some, etc.
Here is what I learned. What resident doctors don't have in experience, they make up for in people skills. Our regular doctor made us believe I was being ADMITTED to the hospital for good, not just for a few hours or even a day. He was harsh and cold and didn't explain anything well at all. Give me a resident over that any day.
So, for now, I will be going to work a few days next week and working from home a few days. Then a week from now, I will see my doctor again and be re-evaluated. This time I won't worry about it because no matter what, everything will be ok!
And I can go to my baby shower tomorrow! whooho!!
So I haven't written in days because I am a little stressed out. Yesterday, our regular OB appointment did not go well. My doctor was irritable for reasons that didn't involve us, but probably involved the broken air conditioning in his offices. His bad attitude continued into our appointment when he saw my weight. Apparently I had gained 14 pounds in the past month, adding my grand total to 280. And this weight gain is of concern when it is added to my swollen legs, feet and hands. But frankly, in 90 degree weather, with my own apartment AC broken, I can imagine that swelling feet, hands and legs would make sense. And that at least 4 pounds of those 14 are indeed the fluid of the swelling.
Anyway. My doctor very rudely asked me why he shouldn't put me in the hospital! Um... because I feel fine and my blood pressure is fine. Anyway, even though I don't have any of the main symptoms of pre-eclampsia, my doctor is concerned about it. Which is fine, but it would have been nice for him to spend his time telling me what symptoms to look for next rather than spend his time threatening checking me into the hosiptal for weight gain and asking me how much salt I am eating.
I have to say that threatening someone like me with spending the next 8 weeks in the hospital because of weight gain is NOT the right thing to do. But of course he doesn't understand that I have been way fatter than this before and, hello, I AM PREGNANT WITH TWINS! I have gained about 55 pounds so far, which is about normal for this stage of a twin pregnancy. Anyway,
So, for now, I am stuck at home on "partial bedrest," which means that I can work from home and sit around worrying about what I am eating.
I have an appt tomorrow morning to get my weight and blood pressure checked. Then the doctor gets to re-evaluate me . Let's hope I look ok so that I can continue to stay home and go to my baby shower on Saturday. Because the idea of spending the next 8 weeks in the hospital is just devastating.
So, I would like to thank my doctor for making me feel like a ticking time bomb, when in fact minutes before the appointment, I felt fine.
In good news, both of my girls are pointing head down. :) hopefully there will be more good news tomorrow.
I just found the most rad baby clothes designer. Take a look:
http://www.focoloco.com/default.asp
I ordered this: I'm with the band Infant One-piece
The other cool thing this week has been that Crafty Bastards is happening again in DC! Whoohoo! It is the best arts and crafts sale that I have ever done and this year it will be less than two blocks from my house! And my tiny girls will be here and will most likely be able to go out into the world by then. Once again, it will be held on October 1. Check out the site if you want to apply to sell stuff. It is really a lot of fun: Crafty Bastards!
Now I just have to think of a new item to unveil that day!
Real blog blog later today. :)
There is loveliness in the loneliness of a nearly empty bus when you are running late to work. I can see my pink and blue sneakers in the big bus mirror and my feet swing swing to new words and sounds from Suki and I almost wonder how this rainy world could get better. And this is a repeat repeat of things I have said or thought before, but skinny boys are pretty and even more so when they have pink cheeks in June.
Yesterday, Jeff said, remember when we got off the plane in London at Heathrow and rather than leave with our luggage to begin our vacation, we just sat in the airport. We had only planned that far. Off the plane and now what? It didn't last long, maybe only 30 minutes, maybe less. But there we were, regrouping in this new environment. It is a good memory, one in which we both were feeling this slight fear of what to next. So we just sat there holding hands, sleepy after a night of no sleep on our first plane over the ocean. We talked about just going to sleep right there, we were so tired. Instead we got on the Tube, picking it over other options of getting to our hotel on a Monday morning at 7am. I remember exiting the Tube station, after picking one of 5 exits at random and looking up to see our hotel right there. And even though our room wasn't supposed to be ready until 2pm, I asked nicely and we got it right then and went right up and went to sleep. Not at all upset that the first few hours of our first vacation in another country would be spent sleeping. I remember how happy we were that we had made all the right choices without getting upset at each other the way people may do when they are stressed and tired. I think this is what it will be like when the tiny girls get here. We will look at each other and remember that morning in London when we were exhausted from no sleep and didn't have a clue what to do next and how if we work together, things usually are fine.
I know that bringing home two infants is nothing like going on vacation to London. :) And that comparing them might make me sound a little naive. But I just think all the years that Jeff and I have been together have made it so that we are able to face things with this sense of calm. But it only works together. I don't think either of us can get there without the other. It makes me wonder when reading the baby books... who are these men who have to be told that their wives need help with new babies? How do these men written about in these books function in their marriages? And who are these women who would think to have babies or even lives with people who aren't complete partners? I mean really? How do these people function in their separate pods in their separate lives, all the while pretending to be together? Jeff wonders these things too, because all of the books about fatherhood that he has read spend all this time reminding men that their wives need help with new babies. We are too modern. Him and I, I fear we are.
Oh my! 29 weeks already. I thought it was Monday and that I would be 29 weeks tomorrow. But here I am. 29 weeks. Weighed myself this morning, I have gained 48 pounds. Whoohoo! ;)
On Friday, we saw the girls again via sonogram. Both are growing very well, and are about the same weight. They are nearly 3 pounds each now. Rachel was head down, with her head right on my cervix. And Anya was across my tummy where she has always been. She must feel safe there. We saw Anya touching her nose (just like last time) and moving her arms around. And once again, Rachel was seen kicking up at her sister. One new thing this time around was that Anya's legs and arms are much longer than Rachel's. Not that Rachel's are small, just that Anya's are long. I am wondering if this is because Anya has more room to grow her long legs and arms, while Rachel doesn't, hence her kicking. Who knows. Perhaps the next time we go in there, they will be equal. Anya's legs and arms were measuring 31 weeks instead of 28, but it was enough for the sonogram tech to mention it.
We spent the whole weekend getting the apartment ready for the tiny girls. This included cleaning and getting rid of lots of crap. Doing all the laundry, including washing loads and loads of used baby clothes that I have been buying. We also moved almost every piece of furniture in the place to make room for the co-sleeper in the bedroom, bassinet and swings in the living room, etc. I feel so bad for Archie, though, because we moved the bed away from the window. Hopefully when we get a rocking chair, we will put it by the window and Archie will be able to sit at the window again. And of course it wasn't long before we found Archie in the co-sleeper itself. Poor guy. I hope we aren't ruining his life. If anything, he should be happy that I will be home with him all day for 3 months.
I kept getting really anxious all weekend about getting this all done. I wonder what chemicals work together to make this need to "nest" happen. While it seems good that I feel this way, I really hate the worrying that things won't be ready. It is weird, I started to feel tired and bloated and sleepy on Sunday when it looked like we might not be done over the weekend. But as soon as the co-sleeper was put together, I felt totally fine. All of the stress went away. Of course, we still need lots of things, like a changing table to store supplies (plus all the supplies), bouncy seats, and a glider/rocking chair and lots and lots of diapers, but I feel like I could bring babies home right now and the apartment would be ready. I mean, Jeff and I wouldn't be ready, but that is another story. :)
I have this one foot that is always completely swollen by dinner time. It never fails. The left foot. There might not be anything more ugly than a swollen foot. Perhaps two, but this one is just gross. I can't bare to look at it. But I have to elevate it to bring it back down and thus I am closer to it. I could be a freak in the circus with this foot. Is it just me, or do you think the circus is kinda trashy? Did you know that the Ringling Brothers circus will give you free tickets if you give birth to multiples? What on earth is that about? I remember going to the circus in 5th grade when they said they had a unicorn. Do you remember this? Or am I making it up? I am pretty sure I went and got a poster of the so-called "unicorn," which I am pretty sure was a poor little white horse with a horn implanted in its head. Anyway, the circus is kinda trashy because you can see animals is a zoo now or better yet on TV. I don't think I really believe in the zoo either, but that is another story. But besides the animals, the rest of the circus is kinda lame. No one likes clowns and if you want to see people jump around, you could always go to an ice show or something.
Anyway... that was a huge tangent.
This weekend, Jeff and I are promising each other to get the nest that is our tiny apartment ready for the tiny girls. We are going to do a full cleaning up, get rid of anything that we don't need and move all the furniture around to accommodate the co-sleeper and other tiny girl things. I will finish washing and sorting all of their clothes and hopefully be ready to bring in whatever other new devices we get at our upcoming baby shower.
Speaking of said baby shower. I have to say... first of all, I have never liked baby showers for two reasons. I don't like how the attention is all on the mother because she is the one with the big tummy. I think the attention should be equally on the father. Also, wouldn't it be nicer for the guests if the shower happened after the babies were born? I mean, there is no payoff, ya know? It is like going to the circus to see the unicorn and well, seeing a fat lady instead. Because of this, I think after a few months, when the tiny girls actually become interesting and aren't just sleeping and eating all the time, I will have a baby showing party. That way, anyone who wants to come and see my passengers can. Perhaps, admission will be one pack of diapers. Did you know that I might need 6000 diapers in the first year! And that at first we could go through 7 to 10 a day per tiny girl?! Insane. Anyway, baby showers should include the babies.
I am off to elevate my freakish foot. Tomorrow we get to see the tiny girls again. A report will follow.
Today, 28 weeks marks the beginning of the 7th month of pregnancy. The glory and "ease" of the 2nd trimester have been slowly fading for the past week or so as my tummy begins to stretch. I actually think that part has been easy for me so far because, well, I used to be really fat and my tummy had already been stretched once. But now! Well, now it is beginning to stretch beyond the former fat me. I am more than ever aware of the tiny girls inside of me. Not just the kicks and the grabs, but also heads and bums and flipping around. Sometimes I think about how if I only had one baby in there, it would seem like she had lots and lots of room because I sense that my girls have very separate living arrangements in there. Rachel lives in the bottom tummy and Anya in the top. I know this isn't true, it is just their arms and legs that I am feeling in those places.
I am becoming more and more aware of the fact that soon my life is going to change completely and forever. That I will be entering this Henry Darger/Yoshitomo Nara world of tiny girls with their tiny eyes and tiny hands. Tiny girls who will be happy and sad and a million other things. That in a way, I will be entering *their* world rather than the other way around. And that my role in their world at the very beginning will be that of milk maid. And with all things with my passengers, I never ever thought I would be happy about this or look forward to this. But here I am.
I have gained about 45 pounds and my legs, whose bones and knoby parts were recently unearthed have begun to resemble tree trunks. Quite literally. I can't say that I am happy about that, but I can say that I am not blaming anyone at all and that I look forward to the unearthing process to begin again in a few months. I doubt that I would be so forgiving if I didn't know that weight loss was and is possible.
The realities of childbirth are now clearer than ever with me. Thank you, childbirth class. Some advice, if you ever find yourself pregnant with multiples, do not go to a normal childbirthing class. You will feel left out. This past weekend, I not only took a childbirth class that lead me to believe that I would more than likely be having a c-section to get my passengers out, but I also met a Mennonite woman with 1 year old identical twins girls. She was their aunt and told me that their mother didn't know she was having twins until she gave birth to them. Makes sense, no sonograms for the Mennonites. No c-sections, I would imagine, either. So in the span of two days I saw the present and the past of twin births. And I have to say I am not all together ready for either. What I am ready for is to have two healthy babies, so I am working on thinking only about that.
My world is rainy and I have been eating peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. I started to add the smallest bit of Nutella to them today, but don't tell. It makes the sandwich taste like candy.
Our days have been filled lately with talking over and figuring out what our living arrangements will be when the girls get here. It has been slightly stressful in this housing market to even think of renting or buying a larger place. Last weekend we visited a co-op, which we thought was the answer, but sadly was not.
I don't know what it is like where you live, but a 2 bedroom apartment anywhere near us in this city is going for at least 350k. A house around the corner just sold for 600k.
Jeff and I have actually been very calm in our housing discussions, mainly I think because we know things will be ok no matter what because in less than 3 months we will have two tiny girls! The joy and craziness of that fact always overshadows trivial things like living in a one bedroom apartment with two tiny girls.
I have to say, though, that I starting to get more and more afraid of being left alone with said two tiny girls. Even though I am the oldest of three children, I have never cared for an infant. I have never thought of myself as the type of person who really likes babies. I hear some women talk about how all their lives they have wanted to be a mother and I cringe a little because I can't relate. The prospect of mothering two 4 year old girls or two 8 year old girls is much more appealling to me than two infants. I know this is something that I will get over as soon as they are here. But just as now when I feel bad that the girls have to live inside of me for so long, without being able to tell me what they need or how they feel. I am a little worried that they will have only me all day long to care for them. I am not really worried for myself, but more for them. I often see a mother holding one baby close to comfort it and I feel bad that I won't be able to do that for both of mine at once.
Sunday is our all day childbirth class. I am not looking forward to it. First of all, it is going to be geared towards women who are pregnant with one baby, I am sure. Perhaps there will be a little section of the day about birthing multiples, but I know I will feel left out of the day and slightly irrirated by all the singleton mom's with their choices and birth plans. I know I still have some choices that I can make as a woman pregnant with twins, but I also have to be prepared for them to be limited when it comes to birth. I have to say, I am also a little creeped out by being in a room full of pregnant women. I don't know why, I just am. Maybe I am wrong and it will be a very good day spent and I will learn lots. Before I got pregnant, I read all of these books about the natural childbirth movement, all of these anti-hospital books. Being pregnant with twins made my normal ObGyn practice drop me because I am considered "hi-risk", so the whole midwife center and natural childbirth thing is basically out for me. In some ways, this makes me sad. But moreso, I am a bit relieved. I am glad that my concern over having to give birth to two, not one healthly baby is making me give up the notion of some sort of special wonderful earthy birth experience. While I am not going to just give myself over to the c-section knife, I do know that it is ok for me to not worry so much about beating the system that is the over-medicalization (if that is a word) of modern childbirth. We will see how I feel about this after my birth experience, of course.
At least I know that if Sunday doesn't teach me anything useful, I already know how to get past fear and how to not fear fear. I think this will be what gets me through childbirth. My ability to stay calm and ride the rollercoaster know that things are never really as bad as you think they will be.
This post has been a bit of a downer. Sorry! I am now in the sixth month of pregnancy. I could possibly have two tiny girls in my life in as little as 10 weeks. The time is passing way too quickly and yet not fast enough. It is getting harder to sleep and walk around, but it could be and will get worse. Everyday the girls wage a great battle or have a rockin dance party in my tummy. I am reading books about parenting now, rather than pregnancy. I see mothers in stores or places yelling at their children and I want to ask them, don't you remember where they came from? Don't you remember how they got here? You would think that pregnancy and childbirth would be enough to make all mothers cherish and respect their children. But it doesn't and that makes me sad.
When discussing the type of parent I wanted to be with friends and family before I got pregnant, I would often mention that I didn't want to tell my kids what to do. I wanted to be an easy-going mom. To this I would hear that I would really just end up a pushover. I think I have finally figured this one out, though. Jeff and i have been discussing parenting a lot lately and what we really want to do is respect our children. And in respecting them, not try to control them or punish/bribe them into some arbitrary obedence. To me, there is nothing worse than a mom who says do this because I say so. Or a dad who uses fear to control a child. Nowadays it is almost as if as long a person doesn't hit their child, they think they are a good parent. But Jeff and I are really thinking a lot about how we would like to try to use discussion and reason with our girls rather than methods of control.
And these are the things that have been swim swim swimming in my head while two little girls swim in my tummy. Next week, we will see them again and measure them and see if they are growing as they should. I feel that I am. Growing as I should, in many ways. Let's hope they are doing their part as well.
Today, I feel as if I am at the top of the rollercoaster. About to be traveling faster than I knew possible. The point at which you realize that you are completely out of control of the ride and the end is going to get here too fast.
Of course I mean this in regard to my passengers. Tomorrow I will be 26 weeks pregnant! And knowing that 37 weeks is often considered "full-term" for twins means that I will more than likely have two babies in 10 weeks or so. That means that I could have babies in the month of July. I don't know what I was thinking, but I really thought I wouldn't have to start worrying about giving birth until August 1st. What was I thinking? Now I am on the speeding train, the top of the rollercoaster. Now I am holding on for the trip down. And there is this mixture of fear and excitement and my own flavor of love for both.
I look around our little apartment and think there is no way we are going to be ready in time. I think this is called "nesting." :) Well, my nest is tiny and cluttered and not ready!
Today I felt a new sensation along with kicks, tiny fingers are now grabbing at me from the inside. They are kneeding me like dough.
A few nights ago, I dreamt that my parents' cat died. She was attacked by a big dog and broke her leg. Then she just floated away, like a flying cat. Yesterday, my parents' dog, Tipsy, who was 18 fell down the stairs and injured her spine. So the dog died, not the cat. Tipsy was 18 years old and very ill, so while it is sad, she wasn't going to make it much longer anyway. I just wish she didn't have to be in so much pain at the very end.
I keep thinking about the Thames. About the walk between Big Ben and the London Eye. We went there so many times on vacation, that when I think about it, it is as if I am thinking of a place where I used to live. I am not actively thinking of this place, but it just keeps popping into my head. I want to get on a bus and go there all the time. It is so hard to have a favorite place that lives so far away. Why is it that the earth has to be so big?
Sometimes, I wonder if the girls can see my thoughts. Sometimes, I wonder if they dream my dreams. It would make sense if they could. I guess it would mean that thoughts and dreams could travel in your blood stream.
I want to send them my love of the Thames. I want them to understand this feeling that I can't quite understand myself. This love of a cold and rainy place where I spent the very first days of their creation.
I read a post on a parent's board asking how someone could teach their 18 month old to apologize for biting someone. Now, I am not in the trenches of parenthood yet, but to me that sounded like a silly thing to worry about. My big question right now is, how can I get my girls to understand a love of a certain place and time. Not as practical as apologizing for biting, I know. ;)
Every morning I wake up bigger. Rounder. This morning, I had brand new pearly white stretch marks on my top tummy. First ever stretch marks there. I wonder when they will turn red. I ran out of the bathroom to show Jeff, like I was showing him a new tooth or something lovely and fun. It must be sad to be a normal woman who finds these things gross, to think that any side-effects of making babies is ugly. After showing them to Jeff, I thought, these will never go away, wow, weird.
I am like a growing pumpkin. I wonder if a pumpkin farmer can see the increased size of his pumpkins every morning like I can? I need to me measuring my tummy. But I fear that I didn't start soon enough with the measuring and now it would be meaningless. Perhaps I am wrong.
I am a growing pumpkin. Full of little girls. A pumpkin full of girls.
That pumpkin line reminded me that the day that I got pregnant (you can actually scroll down to it! November 23rd), I wrote that I felt like the captain of a great ship. That I was ice and clouds. I took the captain line with me into the first trimester, like a little badge. I was the captain of a great ship with two passengers.
Funny how things change so fast. Now I am a pumpkin full of little girls.
We had a sonogram on Friday and the girls are getting so big! Rachel weighs 1 pound and 7 ounces. Anya weighs 1 pound and 9 ounces. At 24 weeks, babies should weigh 1 lb 7 oz. So, my girls are right on track! I am growing two babies! :)
We saw Anya sucking, moving her little lips and touching her nose. Speaking of noses, Anya very clearly has her dad's nose (second picture). There was no mistaking it in profile. :) While Anya was in profile, Rachel was looking straight at us, which was a little scary (3rd picture).
Last Monday, I weighed in at 261. This morning, 259. Hmm. So I am 6 months pregnant and I lost 2 pounds last week. And believe me I am eating and eating and eating! These babies must be using more resources than I think they are. What makes it so hard is that I don't think I have been actually hungry for weeks. I eat all day long. Perhaps it is that I am eating healthy. I have no idea. So far today, I have had a 3 egg and cheddar omelet, an ice cream sandwich, a pound of strawberries, 2 cups of Cheerios and a pint of blackberries. Plus lots of water. And it is only 11:52. How on earth will I eat lunch in an hour? I have no idea.
Jeff has been learning to cook and has been cooking huge amounts of food for me every night for dinner. BBQ chicken and fresh brocolli and steaks and baked sweet potatos. All kinds of stuff. And I nearly have to force myself to eat it all. In the middle of a huge taco dinner out last week, I said that I can't wait until I starve myself again. Of course, that isn't what I used to do, I was being funny. But really, I am so sick of eating this much food. I am beginning to not enjoy food again, like the taste of it or the action of eating. I remember when I was losing weight and I would have killed for an ice cream sandwich. Haha.
Anyway, my complicated relationship with food is ever-changing. I have gained 32 pounds in 24 weeks and I am ok with that. It is just the actual eating that is bothering me right now. I have to say that when I saw the 2 pound loss on the scale, I worried that something mystically took the babies out of my tummy and that is what the two pounds gone was. Crazy pregnant girl. Jeff says I've watched too much Buffy and Angel.
I have to say that I feel like a bit of a fraud because I haven't been writing about the emotional rollercoaster these hormones are putting me through. I tend to write only when I am happy and thus you must think I am this crazy happy girl. But the truth is, this past month has been hard. I think that since I have felt better physically, I have started to worry and worry and worry about all sorts of things. My mood swings have been a little out of control and poor Jeff has had to deal with it. I wish I knew how much of this is being pregnant and how of this is being 5 months off of Prozac. I wish. I wish. I wish I knew. No matter. I suppose I will find out when the girls get here.
We get to see the girls again on Friday, via high resolution ultrasound. I can't wait to see how much they weigh now and how big they are. I can't wait to see that they are growing at the correct rate. I think it will help to encourage me to continue the big eating.
So it has finally dawned on me that our tiny 1 bedroom apartment in DC is not going to be big enough for two babies AND Jeff and I. I think I had been kidding myself when people asked me about this. I would say, "oh, we will be ok for a year or so." Now my thinking is that we will be ok for 3 months or so and that it will be extremely cramped with all of the baby stuff that I am sure we will "need?".
So... the idea of moving is now in my head. And my nesting urges are taking over and I am feeling completely crazy about making sure we are ready for these babies. And if you saw our apartment, you would know that we are nowhere near ready.
Nearing the 6th month of pregnancy, my reading and worries have switched from the actual pregnancy to what happens when the babies get here. Breastfeeding being one of the biggests topics and of course the whole having enough room thing. As if she were reading my mind today, my street grandma, Lydia, asked if we had a place to live. This 73 year old panhandling woman is worried about my living situation. It is touching and yet, strange.
Last night, Jeff read a passage from a book outloud to me and the girls starting kicking away. We weren't sure if they were reacting to his voice, but just in case, he started reading to them. He is reading "The Golden Compass" by Philip Pullman to them. All through the first chapter, they kicked and kicked to his voice. I do hope it was in reaction to his voice and not something that I ate. :)
I have started to think about seeing them interact with one another... with one child, parents just think about the relationship they will have with the baby. But, I have started to think about how wonderful it will be to hear one girl call the other by her name or see them playing togeth | | |
