Ok---I actually wrote this yesterday, but I'm a day late posting it...so two today!
For years I have wondered and been amused when you hear a woman quote how far along she is in a pregnancy---“I’m 26 weeks” or “Oh, I’m 28 weeks and 3 days.” How is the heck do they keep up with it? I can barely track down the day and date of the week on most days, much less the days and minutes that have passed since conception. Now—at 12 weeks and 4 days, I get it. I understand.
This past weekend we drove down to Jacksonville, FL to visit a good friend who recently moved. I found myself not only having an active awareness of how far along I was in the pregnancy, but also of how may hour we had been in the car, how much longer we had in the car (the seat belt was driving me bat-shit crazy), how long it had been since I last peed and the minutes until we would stop so I could go again, not to mention counting every second until lunch, and the time between lunch and dinner.
Suddenly, every second, literally counts. I can tell you now, that not only am I 12 wks, 4 days, I have 27 weeks, 3 days remaining---and January 15th is 192 days away and counting down.
The nausea has thankfully eased greatly the past week. Yesterday was pretty tough, but otherwise—it has been better! The vomiting is still there, but the OMG! I am doing to die; I’m so nauseous feeling, has thankfully subsided greatly.
What no one tells you is that pregnancy consists of a constant and ongoing feeling and complete and total discomfort—maybe it’s just a twin thing, but I don’t think so. I feel constantly full—like I’ve eaten 70 hotdogs in 10 minutes and didn’t even have the satisfactions of winning a contest. You can’t get comfortable sleeping—I’m too afraid of sleeping on my stomach to get a restful night sleep, and sleeping on my back or side just isn’t working.
All of this to say—The thought of having TWINS is finally setting in. It seems more real than surreal. With my stomach expanding daily, and the loss of my ability to “suck it in” in the past couple of days, I am (we are) starting to get really excited. We are also nervous, scared, and a little freaked out, but most importantly really happy and excited.
The house renovation has been kicked into high gear. Friday (tomorrow), is Ken’s 29th birthday and we will spend it at the doctor’s office, then in literally gutting our kitchen. The guys are coming with hack-saws, chain saws and sledge hammers, and as I cross myself in thanks while saying this—the MC Hammer marble floors will be gone by the weekend. I have to thank my dad for lending us Randy, Fielding and my (devoted, loyal and owes us the favor after we slaved away weekends in his house ;) ) brother, to knock out the demolition. Hopefully we will get most of it knocked out tomorrow-in time to enjoy, at least, a decent dinner for his birthday. Granted he got his present on Monday. 1. I am awful at surprises. 2. After phone calls from the PGA Store to tell me he had just bought himself his birthday present—I figured it in both of our best interest to tell him he was getting the TV he wanted, so stop spending money and buying himself gifts.
It kind of makes me laugh—now everything we buy we look at it in comparison to say—the price of a crib (or 2 cribs), or a double stroller. Suddenly, between that mentality and the house remodel, we suddenly need nothing for ourselves.
I guess that is step 1 in becoming a parent—putting your wants, not second, but last.
We should get some pretty good pictures from the utlra-sound tomorrow, I will post them then.
For now---here are some before pictures of the renovation--most of these are from when Ken first bought the house--but you'll get the idea.
Until next time…
B
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