Twenty Weeks

The other day someone congratulated me on my impending birth.

"Any day now!" they said.

"If May was October then yes, ABSOLUTELY YES!"

I can't believe I still have four plus months to go. I mean... I'm twenty weeks pregnant technically, but also, in a way, forty weeks pregnant because two times twenty = forty (I RULE at math!) and we must not discount the fact that two are indeed incubating in one oven. So, hi, I'm nine months pregnant.

So THAT's why I've gained thirty pounds! Aha!

Moving on...

I went to the symphony with my sister Friday night and could barely sit still without dying. The pressure has suddenly become severe on my pelvis and my heartburn has, in the last few days, turned into full-fledged acid reflux which is terrible and gross. Thus far nothing has helped sans for chewing several sticks of gum at a time and sit-sleeping as not to choke on my own bile. Charming I am not, although happy I undoubtably am.

These pictures are beyond ridiculous.

As you can see in the above TMI belly shot, the unitard has been retired. I may invest in a larger size that will stretch beyond infinity but I think I might be living in skirts and dresses for the rest of the summer. (I've already outgrown two of the three pairs of maternity jeans I own, oy.) In the meantime, or as long as I have the
ballssacs to post them, I'll be showcasing the bare belly in all its growing glory. (Re: stretch marks. I've been lucky enough not to get them my last two pregnancies. Apparently stretch marks are hereditary although I am anticipating I may not be so lucky this go 'round. In the meantime, I'm applying Josie Maran's whipped Argan oil Body Butter twice a day and trying to master the not-yet-in-existence art of skin exercise.)

The nursery is coming together, crib is on its way and my mom's getting started on the curtains (which will be in completely different fabric than originally decided. I can't wait to show you! It's going to look amahzing.) My friend ended up having the EXACT same rug I was going to buy new from IKEA, homeless and rolled up in her garage, so now we have our rug free of charge + excellent vibes from one of our favorite families. My parents drove the rocking chair up this weekend and I've spent the last two nights rocking back and forth in this mess of a nursery/office, puking in my mouth and rubbing ye olde giant stomach.

I go in for my next ultrasound Wednesday to measure babies' parts/fluids on the high-tech machine with the perintologist. If this was a singleton pregnancy, this would be my second (of three) total ultrasounds but because of the twin pregnancy, it's my zillionth. Quietly, I'm loving being able to spy on my womb mates. Hal and I were joking that by the time our kids are having kids, they'll have micro-cameras in their body cavities allowing them to watch their entire pregnancies on giant robot-screens, narrated by their generation's Morgan Freeman, and I'll be like, "when I was your age I had to drive five miles to see a HUMAN technician with cold hands..."

For now there's the following Babycenter diagram, featuring the babies as they look today, banana sized and kicking
assbelly.

As many of you know, every pregnant woman has a sign on her bod that says, "Feel free to talk to me about my uterus!" and also one that says "Ask how long I plan to breastfeed!" and another one that says "Please, I beg of you, tell me all about your unmedicated home birth and how I should do the same thing!" but my favorite unsolicited advice yet came Friday night during dinner.

My sister and I had just settled into our quinoa and vegan "cheese" covered potatoes at a local vegan eatery (which is AMAZING by the way, you should definitely go eat there immediately) when a beautiful wild-haired, braless woman approached our table with a makeshift note. She had seen me come in to the restaurant and HAD to tell me about the documentary that changed her life and that would surely change mine. She even went so far as to write me CliffsNotes on the back of a receipt.

She was desperate for me to give birth at a camp in the Black Sea and when I told her, "That sounds amazing! I'd TOTALLY be down to do that but you see, I'm having twins, so it wouldn't be safe for me to...."

"Nononononono!" she interrupted. "Twin births are no problem for Black Sea-birthers! It's the way nature intended!"

Apparently there were twins in the documentary, birthed naturally with the assistance of nature's own midwife dolphins.

I'll admit, I did check out some information on the doc and it looked undoubtably fascinating but, um,.... yeah, not for me. I'm perfectly comfortable utilizing modern conveniences like hospitals, epidurals, postpartum cotton underwear with built-in-icepacks...

My ideal birth experience = giving birth to healthy babies with as little postpartum discomfort as possible (which is why I'm going for a vaginal birth as long as baby A isn't breach. As in breach position, not leaping dolphins). That being said, in my next life, I'm very interested in attending Black Sea Dolphin Doula birth camp and will be taking the generous stranger's notes with me to the afterlife via my freestyle canoe.

Until then, I remain humbly...
twentyforty weeks pregnant.

you grow girls!

For those who inquired about my charm necklace, I posted about it, here. And thankfully for me, there is room on the necklace for two more names. Also, thanks for all your incredible comments on the name post. That was a fun one.

GGC

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nineteen weeks

eighteen weeks

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sixteen weeks

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thirteen weeks

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nine weeks

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