Holy Crap! Am I this far along?! STILL amazed that we're still here and that everything continues to go so well. I feel SO blessed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
That being said, I don't mean to be ungrateful, but I thought I should shed a little reality on my life these days. The good and the bad.
So, here goes.
During the day, I am just fine. I go to work in the morning where I am productive and social. I'm slow going up the stairs, and I run out of breath if I have to present materials to a group. The worst is probably the "pregnancy brain" which causes me to use the wrong words and forget important names, dates, words, etc.
I come home around lunchtime and work at my own pace wherever I'm most comfortable, most often propped up in bed, but I could also work at the kitchen table, in the nursery in the rocking chair, on the couch, or my new favorite - on the deck in the sun!
I start getting lonely around 6pm when my dear husband is still at work, and I know I have a few more hours until he joins me. I watch a few things on Tivo. I catch up on my google reader and facebook.
All during the day, I may be aware of the boys because I bump my belly into something, or because I can feel them moving. I don't have to pee too often, and of course, I get to eat whatever I want.
Maybe I would normally run errands at lunch, but I haven't missed that too much, and things seem to be getting done on the weekends, so I don't feel like we're doing without or that anything is falling apart.
And as I've mentioned before, working from home does have its perks - I can screen my calls. I never have to wait in line for the bathroom. And if I'm craving brownies at 2:30, heck, I just throw a batch in the oven!
The evenings are a little depressing for me because T is at work and I'm home alone, which isn't new, but BEFORE the pregnancy, I would have worked late, had drinks or dinner with friends, maybe done some shopping. But now, once I'm home, I'm typically in for the night, so I notice his absence all the more. And I miss him more when I can't fill my life with other things.
By the time he gets home, its usually 8pm or so, he re-heats the leftovers from my dinner or makes something of his own. We watch some Tivo and go to bed. And this whole evening routine has begun to feel a bit too much like Groundhog Day for my taste. It's boring and repetitive. But I know it will end. And we can always spice things up by renting a movie, going to a movie, going out for dinner, etc. Which we do from time to time. It all sounds so mundane, but I guess that's the point - it is.
It's the nighttime that really is the worst for me. I don't have a typical night, but I can usually count on heartburn (usually treatable with 2-3 Tums), hip pain which then causes me to flip over sometimes every few hours, but on bad nights as often as every 20 minutes, difficulty flipping over which is become worse and worse almost every day as I now resemble a beached whale, a baby skull in my ribs (which contributes to more flipping), frequent trips to the bathroom (which on a bad night is 4 between midnight and 7am) and possible relocation to another sleeping surface in the house.
For example, last night, I woke up at 4am vomiting in my mouth. I know this is gross, so I'm sorry, but I had like a hiccup/spit up in my sleep and it was enough to jolt me awake and I probably had a tablespoon of stomach bile in my mouth. Ok, ick. And this was after having heartburn and already tried a few Tums.
So, I decided that I needed to be sitting up more, so that maybe the acid reflux would take advantage of gravity and the mouth puking could stop. So, I went into the nursery with my pillow and blanket and tried to sleep in there.
Fabulously, the acid reflux was gone. But my getting up had woken up the boys so they proceeded to play Dance Dance Revolution on my ribs/bladder. It was almost comical, except I was tired.
After about 15 minutes, I decided to try the couch. Which is softer than my bed. No matter which side I layed on, one of my boys was apparently being crushed because he would start kicking out. Maybe punching. I'm not sure. But it was obvious they weren't happy that I sent them to bed before their game was over. I finally found a position propped up against the back cushions with my blanket supporting my tummy where they were suspended in enough fluid to settle back down for a few hours.
And of course, I was in the deepest most wonderful sleep, at 7am when my alarm went off.
All that being said, I don't want to complain. Their movement means they're alive, and healthy in there. And the fact that these kicks keep getting stronger tells me that they are getting bigger and healthier. And those skulls in my ribs? well those are just bones getting stronger, too. It's all good. And its really only miserable at night, when I can't sleep. And I was probably only awake 45 minutes all night long.
But lest I seem too pollyanna and one think this pregnancy has been a cake walk, it has, and it hasn't.
I continue to pray daily and sometimes even while I'm awake at night, that the boys continue to grow and flourish, that they arrive safely, that they are healthy, that I have a speedy recovery, that we can afford them. I worry about mucus and premature labor and stillbirth and cord accidents. And I continue to thank God that we have made it this far, and that I have been able to experience everything - the good and the uncomfortable - that this pregnancy is. I never thought I'd get to carry my own child. And I am so lucky he gave us two!