This last week has been really weird. I never expected to make it this far, to be honest... I thought my body would say ENOUGH! at 36 weeks. Mostly because that seems to be a pretty common thing with women who carry twins. And it also seems that in almost every way, except the ones that count (ahem, laboring and delivering), my body is kind of telling me enough.
But, here I am.
I didn't write about my doctor's appointment on Friday before now because it was sort of bizarre. My housband wasn't able to be there with me for the ultrasound because he had a couple exams, so my mom came with me. I had a different ultrasound tech and a different nurse than usual, and it was all around kind of weird. My housband got there in time for the doctor's appointment, though, which was after the ultrasound, so it was a crowded little room. And that was when my doctor told me I could go for another couple of weeks--though, if you recall, she's always said she'd induce at 37 weeks.
I spent some time being upset over that; mostly, I don't like to be told one thing and then have it change at the last minute. If she had told me from the start we'll shoot for 38 weeks, I would have said ok! I guess I'm a little annoyed. Mostly because my feet are swollen (especially the left one), I read a ton of horror stories from the hospital's website about things that can go wrong after labor and delivery over the weekend, and I am also really bored. I've had my bags packed for probably two weeks now (though I really finished packing and getting every last thing ready on Saturday), and I'm just... waiting. I go to work every day, but only part of the day, my stuff is all packed up and put in random places everywhere, and I'd read a book but there are very few places I want to go, one of which is the library (because inevitably I will check out a book, have babies, then forget to remember that I checked out a book and accrue fines). Plus I like buying books more than checking them out, and we no longer really have bookstores, PLUS everybody stares everywhere I go, and guys, I'm just kinda tired.
Plus, my clothes don't really fit... even my maternity shirts are pushing it. So. Now after that complain-o-rama, I have to say that over the last week, I am a lot less freaked out about them coming. Especially the birthing part. That probably has a little to do with my friend, Whit, having her little boy in the last week. For some reason, that's been a really big comfort to me, mostly because she wasn't due much before me... and I find myself thinking, if Whit can do it, I can do it. Plus I'm a little jealous their little boy came before my girls. I've been walking a bunch in the last week and thinking positive thoughts (that has to help... right? RIGHT?), and I would honestly prefer if they'd just come on their own instead of having to be induced but if they don't come by next week, then that will be what has to happen. Because, listen. I have 12 pounds of babies in me right now. And one isn't growing quite as fast as the other. And mentally, I'm pretty spent.
I'm still pretty proud of myself for getting this far, though. I will just not really miss the endless heartburn. Did I tell you they both have hair? I have no idea the actual validity of that old wives' tale, but they do, indeed, have hair... we'll see how much when they come. Also, today was the first day I couldn't put on shoes. At least on my left foot. So I broke out my flip flops, which are new, by the way, because I guess I got rid of all my other ones when we moved. Also, I will be really glad to be able to wear my wedding ring again and not worry about my belly hanging out at any given moment. And though I might not be sleeping at night, it won't be because I tried to roll over and the contractions and/or pelvic pain woke me up. Also, I will be able to hug my housband again.
But then again, I'll lose my cup holder/table/hand rest when they're here. I am so SO glad everything has gone so well this long. It's probably good they didn't come before Saturday, too, because I didn't have any newborn onesies, and I bought some on Saturday and washed them then. And they weren't born on any of my siblings' birthdays last week, or on our anniversary, which is fantastico! And maybe they won't spend any time in the NICU! And we installed our car seat bases, and we decided we have no idea what we're doing!
This is all to say: I am still doing ok. Let's just hope they come soon, ok? Thanks. And now I feel guilty for complaining. But maybe it's ok, just this once?