The babies are A. 5lbs and B. 5lbs 2oz respectively (doc can ballpark weight, give or take 10% by measuring the length of their bones and head circumfrence) which means they are still growing three weeks ahead of schedule. Which means I am thirty-three weeks pregnant with two thirty-six-week-sized womb-mates. The doctors thought they would have slowed down by now but not these chickadees.
These babies seem to think this womb is some kind of Equinox Fitness club. I keep picturing them spotting each other like, "COME ON! TWO MORE BENCH PRESSES!" YOU CAN DO THIS, RUAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!"
I do not birth big babies (Archer and Fable were both seven-pounders full-term) so having jumbo-twins is a complete mystery to the doctors and myself. Especially when twins usually run small for obvious reasons. Ahem, THERE ARE TWO OF THEM IN ONE BODY!
Apparently, these girls are super-pros at finding ways to move around my uterus to best utilize space and even though, in the ultrasound they looked like one giant two-headed mass, I am told there is still plenty of amniotic fluid for them to keep growing as they have been thus far. Hence the excitement/panic... It's overwhelming to think these babies are STILL growing. That I am still growing with them, and that they could come at any time. Now! Or... Now!
I definitely dropped this week but I think it's because there is nowhere else for my abdomen to go but down... it's so heavy with human and such, that it has no choice but to fall between my legs like a swollen appendage.
I'm dropping off my hospital paperwork this week and have my bag packed and ready. Full of newborn clothes and mama clothes, but most of all, neurosis, which take up at least half of my suitcase.
R&B are in Yin Yang formation right now, heads in the middle of my belly, bodies forming an S shape. C-secto is definitely the name of this game with Baby "A" breach and Baby "B" transverse, which was bumming me out at first but now I'm over it. I've already had two vaginal births, might as well give a C-section a try, no? Party on.
The last few weeks of pregnancy are some of the toughest weeks that exist - it's limbo like nothing else and one lives in a state of bipolar... ness. I go back and forth between being excited and terrified. Am I ready? HELL YES! Am I ready? HELL NO! Am I ready? HELL MAYBESO!
More like, hell, I don't know.
We're having a heat-wave which is only adding to my anxiety. I'm having hot flashes several times a day and have to repeatedly change my clothes because I've literally soaked through them. I can't sit in a chair to work anymore because even with legs spread eagle, my belly is rubbing against the chair. And I'm just... ugh, you know? UGH. Sore and bleck and ergh and ugh and huge and heavy and ouch. I actually feel exactly like I look in this photo:
I'm trying to think of something funny to say but I'm too exhausted to feel clever or interesting. I'm grateful I was able to go this many weeks before collapsing in a pile of WompWompWomps, but now I feel as though I'm DEAD MOM WALKING. I'm completely wiped. I slept zero last night thanks to sporadic contractions and electro-nerve-torture of the crotch. My appetite is waning c/o R&B acting as a sort of Belly Band and everything is just feeling increasingly difficult. Like this post for instance. This post feels like I'm typing in slow-motion with my eyes crossed.
The good news? I'm the only one who seems to be suffering. Everyone else is kicking dat ass and that's what's most important right now. Besides, having been through this twice before, I know that once the babies arrive and we're all settled into our new lives, I'll totally miss this. ALL OF THIS. Just like I did after Archer and Fable were born and I was like, "Aw! Pregnancy! I love being pregnant! Pregnancy is the best" I'll forget the reflux and the cramping and the waddling and the fact that I resembled Shrek...
... and I'll cry. Because uncomfortable as I am now, I'll soon miss how it feels to carry life around on my person so nonchalantly. I'll miss the weekly ultrasounds, making friends in the waiting rooms of doctors offices, getting foot rubs while reading September issues on the couch. I'll miss watching the kids watch their sisters move my belly around like it's their bitch. And my belly is INDEED their bitch:
...But most of all, I'll miss the anticipation of knowing that something huge is coming, and in this case, something DOUBLE-huge. Something so huge I still don't quite believe it's ACTUALLY happening.
Minus the discomfort and the hot flashes and the cramps, the last few weeks (days?) of pregnancy are like Christmas Eve on steroids. Except, I'm the one dressed up like Santa Claus.