I am writing this from my parents' house, where we have spent the last four days in and out of the pool with our noodles. Okay, so MY noodles would be the more apropos wording, as I tend to hog all of them to keep myself afloat. Every time Fable asks to borrow "the pink one" I sink to the bottom of the pool like Titanic.
My doctors are still permitting me to weekend away, specifically at my parents' house, which is only a two-hour drive from Los Angeles and surprisingly still doable. I can still comfortably steer my car and sit in a bucket seat! Success! That said, this will be my last long weekend here with the fam for poolside R&R. The next couple of months I'll be home, cranking the AC and doing indoor activities with the kids.
Both babies are breach. Side by side, with heads in ribcage and butts resting comfortably against my nethers. Sure, there's still time for them to move around but it's harder with two, so I'm preparing myself for all possible options. We shall see. Er, we shall C.
I had an amazing prenatal massage with this incredible Sikh healer/masseuse who cured me of any and all discomfort I was having and I've never felt better. I haven't had so much as one minor bout with Acid since seeing her Wednesday. Not sure it was the massage or all the watermelon I've been downing before bed. (I still stand by watermelon as the ONLY thing that has helped with my reflux issues. But ONE slice will not suffice, ladies. We're talking cut a watermelon in half, grab a spoon and go to town dot com.) Orrrrrr, you might want to call your local Sikh healer and have her go to town on you.
At last week's weigh-in I officially hit the 55+ mark, which is totally healthy for a twin pregnancy but still. 194 pounds is a difficult number to swallow with a smile, even when you know it's all for good. And I feel good! Surprisingly good. I have to literally remind everyone I'm with that I'm okay! I feel okay! Sweaty but okay!
I do have me a case of the Pregnancy Brain which came on full-throttle the other night when trying to find my car in a hotel garage and realizing after walking three miles in circles and being like, "Don't worry! It's here somewhere!" as I led my friend on a wild-parked-car-chase, that I was actually parked at an entirely different hotel. I'm pretty sure Alice wanted to smack me upside the head. Thankfully, when you're pregnant people only WANT to smack you, they would never actually do so. I don't think.
This was a red letter week in our household for two reasons. One. I made it to thirty-weeks which has been major goal #1, according to my Perintologist. Every time I see him he's like, "just make it to thirty-weeks, sister." And I did! Which is grand! I cannot wait for a high-five when I see him on Wednesday! Or maybe we'll go big for the high-ten!
The SECOND very exciting thing that happened was that SOMEBODY decided to start pooping on the potty (hint: not me. I've been doing that shit for years.) and her name starts with F and ends with Able! As in ABLE-POTTIED! She's still having a hard time remembering to pee in the pot, but we're five for five in the poop department and my BIGGEST goal this pregnancy (second to delivering as close to term as possible, obviously) has been to only have TWO asses to wipe at a time. I don't know that I would be able to handle wiping three different butts in the same afternoon. So. This. Is. Huge.
The not so exciting thing? Fable falling head-first and backwards into the jacuzzi. I leapt off my chair and dove in after her (obviously) but my instincts were such that my priority was Fable and I completely forgot I was pregnant and had a body that was not "dive in jacuzzi" esque. Fable was fine. She held her breath like a champ (we had been working on that earlier) and even though she was extremely shaken, and a little scratched up, she was all good - cried for a few minutes, then went on her merry way. I was not fine. On my way in to get her I slipped on my ass, luckily, sliding into the water but nonetheless eating it pretty hard. As soon as I had Fable (happy and fine) in my arms I panicked. I froze, more like. I felt paralyzed - like my instincts were confused, at war, in two different places...
As a pregnant person, my instincts are to protect my body, my babies. But I learned yesterday that I'm a mother BEFORE I am a pregnant one so I dove in after Fable without even thinking about what I may or may not be doing to my body. Luckily, I was fine and so are the babes. It took me a few hours to come down from Shakesville. My body was so tense I was actually having contractions and although a bit scraped up and with a sore tailbone, I was fine. Somewhat hysterical but fine. The babies were more active than ever (moving around like goldfish in a plastic bag someone just hurled across a room) and Fable was back to her normal, chipper "Mommy? Where is your smiley face?" self.
Over the weekend I got to hang with my grandparents and Nana as well which is always lovely. My grandpa serenaded the babies with a song I'd never heard featuring one of the babies' names and I listened to the stories of my grandmother's birth - about the days before the NICU existed and how when she was born, the smallest of the triplets at two-and-a-half pounds, she went home with her siblings and mother DAYS after being born because that's just what you did. How her mother kept her and her sibs alive with Sterno cans to heat the water that surrounded their makeshift "incubators"... and when they all got sick with pneumonia? Great-grandma Belle stayed up all night every night feeding the babies with eyedroppers, one by one, by two by three.
Pretty remarkable how much has changed four generations later.
Last night Hal and I went to Blockbuster to rent a movie and in line was a man with his four children. A son, a daughter and the youngest, two identical-twin girls. We followed them around the store like a couple of spies, trying to picture our own identical brood. The kids were well-behaved and remarkably sweet with each other. The dad seemed opposite-of-stressed as he tried to negotiate a DVD decision with his four kids.
"See?" Hal turned to me. "This is going to be easy."
Uh. I don't know about that but I did leave the rental place feeling a sense of relief at the sight of four happy kids in their pajamas, a brother and his sisters, marching off toward their family van, side by side on a Saturday night, movie in hand, all of them looking forward to getting home and watching it together.
My mom finished the stroller blankets for the girls. (Photos to come.) I'll bring them up with me tonight when we head back home to LA, where they (and I) will stay until the babies arrive. Us and our ANKLE-DEEP baby pool.