This post could be categorized as “first world problems regarding my pregnancy” – so I get it if you don’t want to read on:
A few previously pregnant friends tried to warn me a couple weeks ago: that the time would come where I WANT to eat but would be unable to ingest much.
HA! I thought.
Turns out there is also a reason why docs recommend gaining most of your weight early on in a twin pregnancy. Suddenly, it all made sense. I should have expected it really because in the last few weeks I’ve noticed my stomach moving precariously towards my ribs – I’d bend over and my stomach would gurgle in a much much higher location than previously. So bizarre. Something happened literally between Monday and Tuesday last week and suddenly my normal sized I-can-still-eat-whatever-I-want-stomach turned into I-ate-a-bagel-two-and-a-half-hours-ago-and-I’m-still-full-and-burping-cream-cheese stomach.
A friend of mine (Megan!) recommended Prilosec 24 hour. Its helped with the burping but hasn’t so much magically created more room in there.
This morning I stepped on the scale to discover I had lost 3 lbs and for once in my life did not jump for joy. It is now officially time to commence: Operation Liquid Calories. Because the problem with feeling full all the time is that I don’t want to drink either, which doesn’t bode well for staying hydrated.
Regardless of what I eat or drink I tend to still feel full from it several hours later.
This uncomfortable yet inevitable milestone obviously deserves an Ode:
Every week is another week closer to 35-36 weeks and every day is another day closer to possibly being able to take the babies home with us. I’ve read that every day in utero is equivalent to 3 days in the NICU – so lets keep them in!
At this point we *should* be able to avoid the NICU and would probably just need a few weeks in a special care nursery.
I’m still amazed every time I see my stomach move.
Going to weekly doc appts now which makes me rest a bit easier in between
Holy cow we are going to have two babies in a few weeks
Nursery is being wrapped up this weekend!
The Bad
Holy cow. Its like someone turned on a switch. I can’t say I expected to make it through this pregnancy discomfort free, but I did expect to have a little heads up. Because for real something happened between Monday and yesterday and suddenly I went from mildly uncomfortable but still doing fine to my stomach has shrunk to the size of nothing and so I’m constantly burping up everything I put in my mouth and what I don’t burp makes me feel icky and queasy. In addition to that, my back has apparently, in the span of less than 24 hours, decided to say “I’m done!” and so now it is sore almost all day.
Working.is.getting.hard. And I sit almost all day.
The Weird and Amusing
I have, uh, apparently started producing….uh….nourishment for the babies. You know what I mean. And yes I realize that’s been in the works for awhile but this morning I got proof. That was weird.
At the latest doc appt I did not get a cervix check. They put a lot of stock in the negative Fetal Fibronectin which is supposed to last me about another week. Sure hope they are right. (So far they have been so I guess I can’t complain)
Holy cow we are going to have two babies in a few weeks.
My fundal height and waist size are almost equal, making me basically the perfect beach ball.
This Week By The Numbers
Fundal height: 41″
Waist size: ~42″
Pounds gained: 36 and counting
Number of times I’ve been told I look like I’m going to pop: 2. One person even said “when are you due? today?”.
Number of things or people I’ve smacked with my stomach: quite a few
Number of times a night I’m up to pee: 2-3 (this has lessened some thankfully)
Number of pedicures I’ve gotten “because I can’t reach my toes”: 2
Number of times I’ve thought: holy cow I’m going to have two babies in a few weeks: I’ve lost count
This post marks this blogs’ 200th post. At post One Hundred, I wrote “Here’s to another 100 posts, which will hopefully soon start me towards another finish line: motherhood.” If someone had commented and told me I’d be 32 weeks pregnant for post number 200, I would have laughed. And yet, here we are. Wow.
32 weeks means we can now deliver at our local hospital! But obviously we want the babies to keep cooking because birth at 32 weeks would still require a few weeks in the hospital. Next goal: 34 weeks!
Belly dance parties!
Going for weekly checkups
Another growth scan Friday!
All in all still getting around pretty well- at least I think so.
The “Bad”
At the last checkup I found out I’m 1cm dilated, though they didn’t seem particularly concerned. But they ran a Fetal Fibronectin which thankfully came back negative, which means I should be good still for the next two weeks. Still lets hope there is no more progress between now and next appt.
Back is definitely hurting by the end of the day
Work makes me tired. Zzzzz
The Weird and Amusing
Getting dressed in the morning – its just funny to watch. Trust me. One of these days I’m going to end up on the floor like a turtle on its back, rolling around unable to get back up. I’ll be…down in….just….a second….I swear.
Still bumping into things with my belly. Clearly I have no idea where it is in space.
Getting out of bed is another funny thing, involving a 3 step process of sitting up by pushing on the bed or Bryan, working my feed around to the floor and then using the momentum to get out of the bed where I then waddle to the bathroom because one or both of my hips are probably still slightly asleep.
When I get back into bed, I kinda just…..fall in. An “oomph” may or may not get uttered in the process.
Bryan says I’m snoring. I’m sure this is also cute and definitely falls on the list he no doubt makes in his head of things he loves about his hugely pregnant wife 🙂
This week in numbers:
Number of times I’ve been told I’m about to pop: 3
Number of things I’ve hit with my belly: who knows
Pounds gained: +35. Holy cow. (moooo – dang now I want ice cream)
Number of times I’ve thought to myself wow, we are going to have babies soon (but not too soon): too many to count, and I still don’t totally believe it
We are a mere week away from the point where I feel like I can breathe easier. Not that I haven’t been grateful for the other milestones, but for us 32 weeks means we can deliver at our local hospital and should be able to avoid the NICU because they have a Level 2 nursery (unless there are other complications of course but I’m just pretending that won’t happen). 7 days, and yes I’m counting.
Holy moving babies batman!
Still on my feet! Though off of them much more than I would be normally.
I think we have musical babies – I went to a choir concert on Sunday night and they were GOING CRAZY! As a music person myself, this makes me happy!
Nursery is coming together.
The “Bad”
Sleep has been lacking. I’m either waking or getting up 5-6x a night to pee or reposition myself because my hips/legs/butt have fallen asleep. Rolling to a new position is starting to become interesting, albeit amusing. Everyone tells me to sleep while I can, but that’s been easier said than done.
That shortness of breath is starting to kick in. I seem to notice it more in the morning, strangely.
The Weird and Amusing
Our c-section is scheduled for May 14 – just shy of 38 weeks. Yeah, right.
Babies movements have been changing. I’m feeling fewer “kicks” and more “rolls”. These rolls, particularly with two, can be quite crazy.Remember the alien thing I mentioned last week? Well this week its worse. I swear something is trying to crawl out of my stomach. I even got a couple movements this week that were a bit painful.
Shortness of breath makes my job as a Speech Therapist – you know cuz I’m talking all day – interesting. A couple days ago I’m trying to teach one of my kids the “sh” sound and had to stop because it was making me lightheaded.
I’m not looking forward to the point where I run out of episodes of “Love it or List it” to watch. I will be said when they start recycling.
Literally about all I have energy for during the week is work. Even that is a struggle. After I get home? Pffft. My butt is imprinting the couch.
It looks like someone shoved a beach ball up my shirt
Has anyone watched the show “Preachers Daughters”? You should. For real.
This week by then numbers:
Number of nightly bathroom visits: 3-5
Number of times I’ve been told I’m about to pop: zero (odd)
Number of times I’ve been told I don’t look pregnant from behind: 3
We had our second shower a week after the first. Having been to one the week before made it no less weird. I still walked in the door, admired the decorations and felt like I was celebrating for someone else.
The first thing I noticed was the super cute (and deliciously yummy) cake:
Hoooo’s ready to party?My awesome host and her son
How cute is that food table? I especially liked the cupcakes with the Oreos for eyes. Unfortunately I didn’t get a close up picture.
The game we played I have to say was totally unfair as it required a functional memory. She had put an assortment of baby things in a cute bag and we had 10 seconds to commit as many to memory as possible. Considering I can’t even be counted on to pay my electric bill consistently, I felt I was at a distinct disadvantage.
I lost.
But its cool, because I (well, the babies) still got presents
A few of my favorites included some personalized stuff and the MamaRoo– it came highly recommended by a friend of Bryan’s step mom and so she bought us one. I have to admit it looks awfully comfy and a friend already commented on how she’d like to try it except it probably has a weight limit. 🙂 We also got tons of diapers – never in my life did I imagine excitement over diapers, but I squealed YAY DIAPERS every time. One of many strange firsts to come I am sure. (I’m particularly excited about our first squeal over baby poo. Bryan laughed at me when I mentioned it. I told him to just wait)
It is amazing how much stuff we got. In fact, by the time my parents get us some of what we didn’t get, there honestly won’t be that much left we have to buy. Except my one picky item – the super expensive Bob double jogging stroller.
My running buddy – you may have seen her in last years marathon training posts 🙂My super cool neighbors
The showers were exactly what I’d imagined they would be. Our babies are spoiled already and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Just two more weeks till the next big milestone I’m shooting for: 32 weeks.
At our last OB appt they did an ultrasound and per the tech’s measurements Abby has caught back up and is no longer 5 oz smaller. As of last Friday her estimated weight was 2 lb 13 oz and his was 2 lb 14 oz, which means I’m already carrying almost 6 lbs of baby. I look like it, too.
I have been very lucky so far and have experienced minimal physical discomfort. I’m more just tired. And yes, I realize there is still time.
The nursery is painted! Hoping hubby will put cribs together this weekend so we can decorate and finish setting up everything.
The “Bad”
I really wish these stupid Braxton Hicks would stop. I know this isn’t going to happen but one can wish anyway. Some days they are just exasperating.
I really suck at getting thank you notes out in a timely manner.
The Weird and Amusing
Pregnant eating – because if the food falls, there is no way it’s going to make it to my lap.
I dropped salsa 3x and totally proved my theory correct
I got a highly amusing voicemail from the OB’s office yesterday asking when I’d like to schedule my c-section…..after May 12. May 12 is 37.5 weeks. I’ve never thought I would make it that long. I guess only time will tell, and I”ll go ahead and schedule it on the off chance that actually happens.
Movements have shifted some to include more rolling like movements. These are visible from the outside if you watch closely and creepily somewhat resemble what looks like an Alien trying to break free. (ET phone home?)
My first trimester appetite is back. I want to eat ALL THE FOOD. Hey, can I have a bite of that?
I keep getting told that I don’t look pregnant from behind. While I really appreciate this sentiment- what does pregnant from behind look like anyway?
This Week By The Numbers
Number of swift kicks to the bladder: 4
Number of comments on how I look like I’m going to give birth soon: 2 (can’t wait to see the count on this one in a few more weeks)
Number of backtrack comments that I look small for twins: 2
My parents keep old photo albums in the basement, and sometimes when we are visiting I make a trip downstairs and flip through them. Some are of them, some of me, some of my sister, and some of people I don’t know. I’ve seen these pictures a thousand times and yet I look at them again anyway. Most are of pictures from when I’m too young to remember, or was only “a twinkle in my mothers’ eye” so they say.
When Bryan and I got married, it was a small celebration involving about 12 people, a day of planning, buying wedding bands at a pawn shop (no, I’m not kidding) and my best friends living room. But I had forgotten to take my camera. Luckily one of my friends had one and took a few photos for us:
They turned out nicely, but I have always since wished I had hired a photographer of some kind. Even if it was just to get a few nice, frame-able photos of the two of us.
Personally, I like to pretend I can take pictures, but I can’t. I mean I can capture a couple smiles like everyone else but the scope of my “talent” pretty much ends there.
I can filter an Instagram photo with the best of ’em, though. 🙂 Everyone looks skinnier, happier and blemish free after adding Lo Fi or Amaro to an Iphone photo.
The point is, after the long awaited positive pregnancy test I knew I wanted professional maternity photos, especially since all of our pictures are captured on Iphone and Instagram filtered. I tried to do some research on “poses” but got freaked out by the vast number of bare belly pictures (just not my thing) and decided that I should just let the professional do her thing. It was much less stressful for me this way, anyway. I hadn’t met the photographer before but she came highly recommended by a friend who promised it would be worth the money. (She was totally right) We had them taken yesterday and she mentioned providing us with a password to review them online in 2-3 weeks, but didn’t mention she’d be posting some sneak peeks. I received an email from the friend who recommended her this morning with these attached.
Yes, admittedly, the title of this blog post is cliche and overused. But also perfect. Just these four pictures express so much.
These bears were given to us by my grandfather a few weeks before he passed away
I consider every week at least a small milestone. We are one week away from our next small goal (30 weeks) and 3 away from the next big goal (32 weeks – at 32 weeks we can deliver at our local hospital which has a level 2 nursery)
We got a TON of stuff from our baby showers (I still have to do a write up on the second one)
Bryan actually won some money from a recent business Vegas trip (tough break right?) and so I have money to set aside for the fancy pants jogging stroller I want if we don’t end up getting one secondhand. Its a bit ridiculous how happy this makes me.
We did maternity pics today. They should be available in 2-3 weeks. I can’t wait to see how they turn out!
Starting the nursery this weekend
The “Bad”
Ok, who hit the “holy cow I’m tired” switch and why wasn’t I warned? Well, ok, according to my updates I was warned. But I guess since I mainly bypassed the first trimester fatigue I didn’t expect much this time around either. Wrong. Its not so much can’t stay awake kinda tired as I just feel really worn out kinda tired. I find it worth celebrating getting through the work day and loading 5 dishes into the dishwasher. What? That’s an accomplishment, right?
The Weird and Amusing
Pregnancy brain story of the week: I mobile deposited a check earlier this week and started getting upset when it wasn’t hitting the bank account. I called the bank to be informed that I accidentally deposited it into the wrong account. *facepalm*
My bra’s are getting uncomfortable. Unfortunately I still have to wear one in public. Drat.
Sitting in my office chair sometimes causes a sore pubic bone. When that happens, after I get up I waddle sexily for a few steps. Well, there’s something I didn’t anticipate.
I’ve watched more episodes of “Love It or List It” than should be allowed. I badly try to predict which one they’ll pick.
Growing up we are taught to avoid the use of certain four letter words. They are coined bad words and words that we should not use until we are adults, and even then can be seen as rude an inappropriate. (One of my favorite four letter words begins with an “F” simply because it can be used as just about every part of speech in the English language, but I digress.) Four letter words aren’t limited to cuss words. Others have been given a bad rap, like diet. Regardless, they are seen as unpleasant and something that we try to avoid.
Let me just preface this by saying I don’t like to “fail”. I studied my butt off in school and try to do the best that I know how with both the small and large things in life in order to avoid failure. Whether due to hard work, talent, just plain dumb luck or a combination of all three, I’ve been mostly successful. I’ve managed to avoid “failing” in most of the things I have attempted. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
It isn’t all sunshine and roses, however, because part of the problem is that I am traditionally afraid of failure. I was notorious for this until about my mid 20’s – I never tried out for a school play (though I was lucky and found a local theater as an adult and pulled some courage together), never took a dance class in college and for awhile swore I’d never marry again because I didn’t want to repeat that failure. The fears dictated the choices I made, both large and small.
I was first married at the age of 22. My then husband and I had dated from my junior year of high school. As a member of the Air Force, my ex looked forward to a life of traveling and fairly frequent deployments, a lifestyle I was not ready for. Our personalities were different. Our interests were different. Our goals were different. But we loved each other and I believed, naively, that love could conquer all. I learned later that this love was different. I was a different person then: anxious, worried, still suffering from some depression and disordered eating habits and had very little self confidence. This love stemmed, at least for me, from a form of dependence. What others’ saw before we even married I couldn’t see except in hindsight.
That relationship ended about 5 years later, and was something I had a very difficult time dealing with even though I was the one who left. I was only 27 and my marriage had failed. It was the biggest failure I had to deal with in my lifetime. Regardless of what he may have ever said or done I still firmly believe that it takes two for a marriage to succeed and two for it to fail. I absolutely played my part. I was too needy, too dependent, not confident or self sufficient enough. It wasn’t on purpose – I didn’t know any differently, but in the end I contributed to the separation as much as he had. While going through the motions of divorce and the logistics of separation at times I felt even more miserable than I had in the relationship. I felt like a failure. Because of that feeling, I couldn’t allow myself to look for someone different who might truly compliment me. It ruled how I lived my life.
Through the help of a no nonsense, tell it like it is therapist (which I appreciated) I sucked it up and ventured forward. And boy am I glad I did. Because today I sit here, married to a man who truly DOES compliment me, one that I’ve grown to love MORE as time goes on and not become more annoyed with, one that is really my best friend – something I thought didn’t really exist.
I get that not trying out for school plays and avoiding dance classes are small in the grand scheme of things and have likely not drastically altered the course of my life. What comes from all these fears of failure though, big or small, is one central thing: lacking the courage to try.
Never be afraid to fail. It’s going to happen. I am going to make some small and large mom failures with you guys. What seems the most important to me, though, isn’t the failures but what you learned from them. Had I not experienced that massive relationship failure I wouldn’t be where I am right now – feeling just about the most blessed I have in my life. Do the best that you know how with the information that you have and try, for both the big and little things and I think you’ll be able to avoid the biggest four letter word (in my opinion): regret.
Journey To the Finish Line 