Observations:
1. I recently discovered (unfortunately, while Andy was in the shower) that if I sit on the floor I can’t get up without someone’s help.
2. I stare at my stomach constantly. Seeing the babies move is, yes, amazing and beautiful, but it’s also strange. Take right now, for example. My stomach is a series of hills and valleys, thanks to the pressure of various baby body parts pushing outward. If Sophie were awake, I imagine she would enjoy running a toy car over the hills and valleys—they’re that distinct. Sometimes I can cup what must be a head, back or bottom in the palm of my hand. And often I see something much smaller, a foot, say, skitter across. I can’t help but stare. It’s so very human yet also so very alien to my experience.
3. The door to the small half bath at my parents’ house opens into the bathroom. As such, my dad has had to remove the door. Otherwise, I would be unable to open the door and get into the bathroom without getting stuck. In its place is a spring rod with a blanket attached. I’m still not sure if this is hilarious or humiliating.
4. At times, I think Sophie truly understands there are babies in my stomach. She always asks to see them, which means she wants me to pull up my shirt. And then she puts her head on my stomach and says “Babies! Ahh. Babies!” And then she “talks” to them but in baby language (lots of goo-goos and gaa-gaas). She claims she’s excited for them to come out so they can ride her tricycle and play in her car. And then, other days, she lifts up her shirt and insists I feel the babies in her stomach (I do).
5. I drink lemonade constantly. On our last grocery list I requested five frozen cans of Minute Maid lemonade. I could easily drink a glass pitcher-full a day if I wanted to.
6. I know I’m supposed to have some sort of motherly pride for my stretch marks (what Andy kindly calls my perfect baby marks) but I got lucky with Sophie—I didn’t get a single one. I was hoping to get lucky this time, too. And I don’t care if this sounds vain but I hate them. They’re everywhere. Apparently everyone is right—the pricey “Cocoa Butter Moisturizing Stick” I bought at The Body Shop doesn’t prevent them. (Nor do the various other pricey products I’ve bought in an attempt to slow them down.)
7. Picking out eight names (first and middle, enough to cover boy/boy, boy/girl and girl/girl) is surprisingly difficult.
8. I must remember to be careful about suddenly grabbing my stomach when I feel the babies move—people react.
At my weekly appointment yesterday the doctor confirmed nothing has changed—I’m still a good 2cm dilated and 60-70 percent effaced. My doctor did, however, get a report back from the doctor who reads all my ultrasounds and Baby B has dropped to the 10-25th percentile in weight. So next Friday I go in for a more thorough ultrasound to check Baby B’s growth. Of course I worry about this a little (OK, a lot) but I also think if they were truly concerned, I would have been called in for an ultrasound sooner. Honestly? I’m ready to be done being pregnant. But I’m also thrilled that there’s a very good possibility I’ll make it to 34 weeks—and then some.
Sidebar:
Andy would have been content with two children. Growing up in a family of five, I wanted three (I won). We’re both positive this will be it for us, but who isn’t 33-1/2 weeks into their pregnancy, while in labor or while trying to comfort a screaming newborn at 3am? It’s not until your baby is sleeping through the night and you’re curled up with your loved one, munching popcorn, sipping wine and watching a movie at 9pm on a weekday night that you think, Maybe one more.
Yesterday, as I was waiting for my appointment, a woman and her parents came in, with a 3-week-old newborn. Sophie wanted to see the baby, so I struck up a conversation with the grandparents. Apparently another one of their daughters had had three children thanks to Clomid (all single pregnancies). Because it had been so difficult for her to get pregnant each time, she decided to forgo any form of birth control. And then, at 41, she unexpectedly became pregnant with her fourth. The story was told to me in the form of a cautionary tale.
Later, when talking to Andy about my conversation with the couple, I admitted I, too, was thinking future birth control wouldn’t be necessary. He stopped what he was doing and just stared at me, eyes wide and said, “You’re going on the pill.” I am—we both are—thrilled to be welcoming these two new babies into our lives. But right now, in this very moment, I have to agree—three sounds perfect.
“By far the most common craving of pregnant women is not to be pregnant.” —Phyllis Diller
