At some point I crossed the line from huge to gigantic.
So sorry. You can see the proof below, if you are so brave. I didn’t want to put it right at the top of my post, because I wanted you to have the opportunity to turn back should you be of weak stomach. There’s my disclaimer.
It’s been an unseasonably cold week here in Central Florida, with several nights of hard frost which were not at all kind to our poor tropical plants. They were also not kind to Dearest who was stuck mixing a parade in the Magic Kingdom until all hours. And he does not own any gloves. He does own some long johns, thanks to our trip up north last winter, so he layered up the best he could and set off into the sunset, spending from 9 at night until 4 in the morning in the park on the coldest nights Florida has seen in years. Dearest is NOT a fan of cold weather and said he is going to add a clause to his next contract specifying that he does not work outside in temps below 40, no matter how important the show.
Last week I had my breastfeeding class at the local hospital. The description of it said moms and dads were welcome, but my babies’ daddy decided that he would go ahead and opt out of that particular evening of education. There were some other dads there, but mainly solo moms like me. I called him when it was over and told him that he really missed out: we watched a movie that was full of naked boobies and there were free cookies to boot! He didn’t seem too sad about it though.
Yesterday was our prepared childbirth class also at the hospital, taught by the same nurse who did the breastfeeding class. Dearest was not exactly enthused to attend this one either at first, but with a little persuading on my part and much eye rolling on his part, he relented. He liked it right out of the gate because the lady teaching it apparently looks exactly like President Roslin from his favorite show Battlestar Galactica. Somehow this made the whole situation much more tolerable for him, although I am thankful that he did not blurt out “So say we all!” at any point in the class. I would tell you that we learned tons and tons during this 6 hour class, but that would be a bit of a lie. We started the class by being paired up with another couple and asked to fill out a “How much do you know?” pre test on pregnancy, labor, and delivery. The couple that we were paired with was quite knowledgeable, truthfully, but we knew the answers to every damn question except 2. It was almost embarrassing. We had to kind of pretend like we were really thinking about stuff that we could have easily rattled off, just so we would not look like know-it-all overachiever pregnancy nerds. (The 2 questions we were stumped on were the name for the lower 1/3rd of the uterus- we knew the upper third was the fundus, but the lower third got us, and also the weight of the average placenta. We didn’t have a guess on that one, the guy we were teamed with guessed 6 pounds. I knew that was way off but I wanted to give him a turn to answer one.) I guess the reason that we knew so much is because a.) We learned a lot about reproduction because of our fertility issues and b.) I am an internet-addicted freak. The best part of the class was being able to tour the whole Labor and Delivery floor of the local hospital. Yes, we already had a nice introduction to the triage area, if you will recall, but it was neat to see the waiting rooms and the operating rooms and where the coffee maker is and everything. Gave me a better idea of what our experience there might be like should we go to term and deliver there.
Part of the class was watching videos of pregnancy and labor (nothing horrifying, we have already seen all the gore on Discovery Heath Channel), but the intro to one of the videos nearly caused me to leave the room. They are interviewing this pregnant woman about what she expects from delivery, etc, and she says in reference to her knocked up state “We are just so elated to have been chosen to be parents.”
Chosen? By what? By who? Does this mean you somehow deserve it more than an infertile couple? Do you think God chooses (or blesses) certain couples and not others? Because let me tell you, I know some real idiots who have been “chosen” to be parents, and some really amazing people who have struggled to get pregnant. And if we used IVF, were we “chosen” to have that succeed, or are we just pregnant despite the decider’s best efforts to deny us? What do people mean when they say they are blessed? Is there a higher power blessing certain “deserving” couples over others? Or are some people just lucky?
End of today’s rant. Sorry if you really believe God is picking and choosing particular couples over others. Sorry if you feel like we screwed with God’s will for us to be barren. I just have to hope that God doesn’t operate that way.
Things around here have been good, we had a doctor’s appointment on Friday, and the ladies are continuing to grow like champs, probably close to 3.5 pounds each. Sophia (the bottom baby for those of you playing along at home) has decided that breech is the way to be at this point, despite my best efforts to persuade her differently, and she has also decided that kicking my bladder would be a lovely plan, causing me to feel like I am going to pee my pants at least once a day. Thanks dear. Olivia is still transverse, and thanks to her antics our couch occasionally resembles the set of that freaky scene from Alien. If she stretches when I am lying down, it is really really alarming to see. My stomach distorts, sure, but now you can actually see her foot, elbow, head, whatever she is pushing up with, as if there was only skin separating her from the rest of us. I can actually grab her hand if she pushes out with it. I promise to pull out the camcorder sometime this week and try to catch it, because you gotta see it to be properly weirded out by it.
Speaking of weirded out, somehow I don’t really think the swimsuit designer intended this to be a bikini, but it doesn’t bother me! I can’t see a damn thing from my belly button to my knees!
And now, for your viewing displeasure… the 30 week twin belly shot!