In two days I'll be 27 weeks pregnant with twin boys and I sometimes feel like a machine stuck on repeat. Wake up, drink water, eat healthy food, drink more water to keep nighttime restless legs at bay, eat more healthy food, rest, maybe walk/swim, rest, think about eating cinnamon rolls, tell self not to eat cinnamon rolls, eat cinnamon rolls, eat tums, drink more water at night because restless legs are irritating, repeat. Sadly for me, but better for my unborn sons, I don't eat cinnamon rolls everyday but everything else about this daily formula is constant (at least during the week). It's weird to think of pregnancy this way, with more focus on its mundane nature instead of the miracle of life. I should be thankful because pregnancy can quickly move from mundane to frightening. I'm lucky my main gripe is restless legs and a yeast infection I just got (although I hear this is normal because, as a pregnant woman, my immunity is down).
Here I sit Saturday afternoon, full from a big lunch (the weekday is for healthy food and the weekend is for healthy food mixed with treats), and am positioned just right on the couch with pillows cushioning my left side, right side and belly. I don't have restless legs yet, they typically start later in the evening, so I'm guzzling water with ice (I love chewing ice) to attempt to ward them off but know, no matter how much I drink, they'll come. Oh yes, they'll come. I drink more than two gallons of water a day, guzzling water at night until the restless legs shut up and settle down. I wake a few times in the night to pee, obviously, and drink more water, then wake in the morning and start guzzling. It's insane but my body is thirsty!
So what's new pussycat? My bridal shower is next weekend, put on by my sister, mother-in-law and sweet mama. As the day grows closer, I can't help but reminisce about my bridal shower three years ago. I'm not a big fan of being the center of attention and large groups, so at my bridal shower I had a few glasses of vino. Next weekend I'll have to suck it up sans vino (maybe by eating tons of cake) - I shouldn't complain because with twin boys coming we need all the free stuff we can get! Our strategy is to see what we receive at our shower and go from there.
Another new pregnancy element to keep me up at night is To Breastfeed Or Not To Breastfeed, That Is The Question! I took a 3-hour breastfeeding class today at the local hospital. Although I wasn't happy waking up early to drive an hour to class (yes, I know I should get used to lack of sleep), I'm glad I attended because I learned so much: latching on, sore nipples, increasing milk supply, breastfeeding positions and pumping. I've been reading about breastfeeding with twins in "Ready Or Not Here We Come" by Elizabeth Lyons. I know it's going to be hard, especially in the beginning when they are eating constantly and I need to increase my milk supply, but I want to give it my best shot. First, it will save money (unless I lose my mind and start seeing a shrink). Second, the health benefits are hard to ignore. Also, I heard from a few people an electric breast pump may be covered by my health insurance, so that's awesome! So, I may pump from the beginning and bottle-feed breastmilk or breastfeed the first two weeks to increase my supply and enjoy the bonding and then breastfeed while also bottle-feeding and pumping.
Breastfeeding makes me think about nature. How, as a woman, my body is designed to make a child, feed the child, help him or her grow, and push the child out and into the world. Then, my breasts (sorry men, they aren't just for ogling and coping a feel) are made to feed the child. Amazing. Who am I not to feed them this natural nectar created especially for them (maybe ask me after they're a week old to see how I feel about breastfeeding - haha).
However, my philosophy with this pregnancy is to do my best and not set my self up for failure! So whatever happens, happens!
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
24 Weeks Pregnant With Twin Boys: Contractions, Heartburn, Aches, Pains, Exhaustion
I had a routine doctor's appointment today with my OB -- I have two doctors: a regular OB and a specialist (whom I refer to as the fancy doctor because of his high-tech equipment) because I'm carrying multiples. I go to a practice with two OBs, one of which will deliver my children unless I go into labor when they aren't available, and also see a specialist who makes sure the twins are healthy and growing normally (I call him fancy because I'm an idiot who uses terms like fancy and also because his equipment gives us the best pictures of the babies! So far, we've seen the beautiful face of one while the other was camera shy.)
Anyway, at my appointment I found out the minute-long cramping I experienced yesterday around my pelvic area and lower back was most likely a contraction, which (I learned) is normal considering I have more baby in my belly at 24 weeks than normal. My feelings on labor and delivery are somewhat similar to my feelings on raising newborn twins as in I know I can do it and it's going to be hard but I'm also scared. So, when I found out this cramping (which I can only compare to a menstrual cramp) was a contraction, my pregnancy awareness kicked up a notch.
You see, I know I'm pregnant but it hasn't 100% sunk in that I will be giving birth in (hopefully) 14 weeks. I know this to be true but I can't wrap my head around it and everything else (being a mother, taking care of newborn twins, etc.). So, things like having a contraction and feeling my sons flutter in my belly push me closer towards full pregnancy realization but I am still astounded daily this is all happening.
Similar to the first year of raising twin boys with a husband who works full-time, I'm sure we'll look back on this all and laugh while not being able to fathom life without our sons but it's still odd. However, maybe I'll come to full-realization mode before I deliver because every week I seem to feel more pregnant. Not simply because my belly is expanding but because I feel aches and pains (especially my hips) and am really tired.
My heartburn has kicked up a notch, making me feel like a fire-breathing dragon, my hips hurt in the morning like I've been riding a bronco all night (trust me, I have not), I tire easily, am hungrier, thirstier (I didn't think it was possible) and am somewhat emotional. My body aches and the flutters in my belly are becoming more pronounced every day as my sons grow. However, I think it takes nine months to make a baby (or 38 weeks or less with the case of multiples) so you can slowly become aware of this crazy miracle, to fully grasp everything involved and it's magnitude. I'm allowed to have children, even two at a time! Me! It boggles my mind. I am going to give birth, either vaginally or through C-section, and be in charge of two boys! Me! I am slowly becoming more and more excited and less fearful day by day.
In the words of my sweet mother, "You can do it!"
Anyway, at my appointment I found out the minute-long cramping I experienced yesterday around my pelvic area and lower back was most likely a contraction, which (I learned) is normal considering I have more baby in my belly at 24 weeks than normal. My feelings on labor and delivery are somewhat similar to my feelings on raising newborn twins as in I know I can do it and it's going to be hard but I'm also scared. So, when I found out this cramping (which I can only compare to a menstrual cramp) was a contraction, my pregnancy awareness kicked up a notch.
You see, I know I'm pregnant but it hasn't 100% sunk in that I will be giving birth in (hopefully) 14 weeks. I know this to be true but I can't wrap my head around it and everything else (being a mother, taking care of newborn twins, etc.). So, things like having a contraction and feeling my sons flutter in my belly push me closer towards full pregnancy realization but I am still astounded daily this is all happening.
Similar to the first year of raising twin boys with a husband who works full-time, I'm sure we'll look back on this all and laugh while not being able to fathom life without our sons but it's still odd. However, maybe I'll come to full-realization mode before I deliver because every week I seem to feel more pregnant. Not simply because my belly is expanding but because I feel aches and pains (especially my hips) and am really tired.
My heartburn has kicked up a notch, making me feel like a fire-breathing dragon, my hips hurt in the morning like I've been riding a bronco all night (trust me, I have not), I tire easily, am hungrier, thirstier (I didn't think it was possible) and am somewhat emotional. My body aches and the flutters in my belly are becoming more pronounced every day as my sons grow. However, I think it takes nine months to make a baby (or 38 weeks or less with the case of multiples) so you can slowly become aware of this crazy miracle, to fully grasp everything involved and it's magnitude. I'm allowed to have children, even two at a time! Me! It boggles my mind. I am going to give birth, either vaginally or through C-section, and be in charge of two boys! Me! I am slowly becoming more and more excited and less fearful day by day.
In the words of my sweet mother, "You can do it!"
Monday, July 8, 2013
24 Weeks Pregnant With Twin Boys: You Don't Have To Be Happy All The Time
I was filling out forms today for my soon-to-be-born sons' pediatrician and came to the question: "Is there a family history of any of the following problems ... " Among the listed problems was allergies.
I asked my husband via text message if he was allergic to anything - obviously I'm a bad wife because I should have his allergies memorized, as well as his dislikes and likes and his social security number. His response to my text? Life. He's allergic to life.
Sounds pessimistic but considering our house got struck by lighting almost two weeks ago (yes, lightning), all our electronics were fried, there's a hole in the wall and carpet damage (in what will be the nursery), and we've been without air conditioning since and just found out we'll be waiting several days longer for that sweet, sweet cool air to caress our sweaty bodies ... I'll give him a pass. To put it lightly, it's been frustrating since we are definite creatures of habit and homebodies.
However, his remark made me think about my pregnancy.
Am I supposed to be happy-go-lucky constantly? You know, floating on a pregnancy cloud, nesting, picking out onesies and witty bibs that say things like "I Get My Looks From My Mom" or "Chicks Rock" or something equally nauseating? Am I not allowed to be scared? There's something about pregnancy that makes me feel as if I'm supposed to be this cheery, can't-wait-for-baby lady, you know, the type of lady I should be as a wife and when I am actually a mother.
I thought about this late last night while trying to sleep in a home without air conditioning - it was easily 85 degrees and my restless legs were ... umm ... restless. Two fans were blowing air hotter than dog's breath into my general direction and the ice pack on my chest was sweating worse than me in church if I ever actually went to church. I tried to trick my brain: It's not that hot in here, I'm not sweating even though I'm nude and uncomfortable, honest. Let's think about the people around the world who don't have luxuries like air conditioning (As the kids say, First World Problems). Around 3 a.m. I finally said: You know what!? THIS SUCKS. (Don't worry, a generous family member let us have an extra window unit so the bedroom is delightful now).
Anyway, I'm scared about having twins and excited too. Deep down in my heart I know it will all work out -- especially considering the shitty moms I've seen out and about and in the public eye - as a woman at an engagement party told me, "If Snooki can have a baby, anyone can have a baby." I know my husband and I will figure it out but I'm still scared. Scared I'll be so exhausted I'll want to scream at my child or pack up and leave town. Post partum depression scares me. Labor scares me. I'm scared I'll lose myself. I'm scared I'll be a bad mother and raise a bad kid all the teachers hate to have in their classroom. I'm scared I'll fail because this ain't an ambitious workout and diet I'm attempting to follow, this is motherhood. I'm scared about a lot of things because change is scary.
I was never the happy-go-lucky type, just not how I was raised. While I tend not to freak out in bad situations, figuring it's not helpful, I tend to look at my glass as half empty most of the time.
I'm not into the whole decorate-my-nursery-like-the-tackiest-theme-ride-at-Disney-World or adorable yet expensive onesies my sons will wear once, maybe, before they get too big. Frankly, I'm a Frugal Fanny. I'm reading a baby book on twins: "Ready Or Not Here We Come" by Elizabeth Lyons. It's my type of book - written by a honest woman who's been there and lived to tell the tale. However, I think past the suggestions in this book, a parenting style is mostly developed by learning along the way. I haven't changed a lot of diapers in my lifetime but I'm positive after 24-hours home with twin boys, I'll get the hang of it and be a Diaper Wizard ... well, I guess since I'm a woman a Diaper Witch, but that sounds awful.
This isn't to say I don't care, like I'm a laissez-faire parent-to-be, like I'm the cashier at Wawa I saw yesterday, who, after being told by a customer a toilet in the bathroom wasn't working, couldn't have cared less. I don't work there and I cared more about the stall than this young lady did. I'm not some Botox-ed out Housewife of Fancy Places who doesn't want anything baby-related in my home and, frankly, will have the baby raised by nannies.
I care about my twins and being a good mother but feel there's pressure put on mothers, especially expectant mothers, to be the best mother, to be Super Mom, making healthy bag lunches for their beautiful children who started walking at 6 months and speaking at 9 months. Super Mom's children are bi-lingual, star athletes, award winning musicians and poets. It's the American way, we want to be the best even if we're swallowing anxiety medication with white wine!
My feelings about this are similar to my sister's advice concerning breastfeeding. I am going to breastfeed my twins but, as my sister advised, not set myself up for failure. I don't want to be one of those lunatics who breastfeed until the child has a full set of adult teeth, however, I know the benefits of breast milk so I want to be Mama Moo Cow for as long as I can. Choo choo the Milk Train is coming into the station! However, I will not set myself up for failure. I will breastfeed as long as I can and that will be fine. I will do my best as a mother and that will be fine. I'm not a superwoman and shouldn't be expected to have superpowers, neither should any mother. Am I excited? Yes. Scared? Hell yes. But this is OK.
I asked my husband via text message if he was allergic to anything - obviously I'm a bad wife because I should have his allergies memorized, as well as his dislikes and likes and his social security number. His response to my text? Life. He's allergic to life.
Sounds pessimistic but considering our house got struck by lighting almost two weeks ago (yes, lightning), all our electronics were fried, there's a hole in the wall and carpet damage (in what will be the nursery), and we've been without air conditioning since and just found out we'll be waiting several days longer for that sweet, sweet cool air to caress our sweaty bodies ... I'll give him a pass. To put it lightly, it's been frustrating since we are definite creatures of habit and homebodies.
However, his remark made me think about my pregnancy.
Am I supposed to be happy-go-lucky constantly? You know, floating on a pregnancy cloud, nesting, picking out onesies and witty bibs that say things like "I Get My Looks From My Mom" or "Chicks Rock" or something equally nauseating? Am I not allowed to be scared? There's something about pregnancy that makes me feel as if I'm supposed to be this cheery, can't-wait-for-baby lady, you know, the type of lady I should be as a wife and when I am actually a mother.
I thought about this late last night while trying to sleep in a home without air conditioning - it was easily 85 degrees and my restless legs were ... umm ... restless. Two fans were blowing air hotter than dog's breath into my general direction and the ice pack on my chest was sweating worse than me in church if I ever actually went to church. I tried to trick my brain: It's not that hot in here, I'm not sweating even though I'm nude and uncomfortable, honest. Let's think about the people around the world who don't have luxuries like air conditioning (As the kids say, First World Problems). Around 3 a.m. I finally said: You know what!? THIS SUCKS. (Don't worry, a generous family member let us have an extra window unit so the bedroom is delightful now).
Anyway, I'm scared about having twins and excited too. Deep down in my heart I know it will all work out -- especially considering the shitty moms I've seen out and about and in the public eye - as a woman at an engagement party told me, "If Snooki can have a baby, anyone can have a baby." I know my husband and I will figure it out but I'm still scared. Scared I'll be so exhausted I'll want to scream at my child or pack up and leave town. Post partum depression scares me. Labor scares me. I'm scared I'll lose myself. I'm scared I'll be a bad mother and raise a bad kid all the teachers hate to have in their classroom. I'm scared I'll fail because this ain't an ambitious workout and diet I'm attempting to follow, this is motherhood. I'm scared about a lot of things because change is scary.
I was never the happy-go-lucky type, just not how I was raised. While I tend not to freak out in bad situations, figuring it's not helpful, I tend to look at my glass as half empty most of the time.
I'm not into the whole decorate-my-nursery-like-the-tackiest-theme-ride-at-Disney-World or adorable yet expensive onesies my sons will wear once, maybe, before they get too big. Frankly, I'm a Frugal Fanny. I'm reading a baby book on twins: "Ready Or Not Here We Come" by Elizabeth Lyons. It's my type of book - written by a honest woman who's been there and lived to tell the tale. However, I think past the suggestions in this book, a parenting style is mostly developed by learning along the way. I haven't changed a lot of diapers in my lifetime but I'm positive after 24-hours home with twin boys, I'll get the hang of it and be a Diaper Wizard ... well, I guess since I'm a woman a Diaper Witch, but that sounds awful.
This isn't to say I don't care, like I'm a laissez-faire parent-to-be, like I'm the cashier at Wawa I saw yesterday, who, after being told by a customer a toilet in the bathroom wasn't working, couldn't have cared less. I don't work there and I cared more about the stall than this young lady did. I'm not some Botox-ed out Housewife of Fancy Places who doesn't want anything baby-related in my home and, frankly, will have the baby raised by nannies.
I care about my twins and being a good mother but feel there's pressure put on mothers, especially expectant mothers, to be the best mother, to be Super Mom, making healthy bag lunches for their beautiful children who started walking at 6 months and speaking at 9 months. Super Mom's children are bi-lingual, star athletes, award winning musicians and poets. It's the American way, we want to be the best even if we're swallowing anxiety medication with white wine!
My feelings about this are similar to my sister's advice concerning breastfeeding. I am going to breastfeed my twins but, as my sister advised, not set myself up for failure. I don't want to be one of those lunatics who breastfeed until the child has a full set of adult teeth, however, I know the benefits of breast milk so I want to be Mama Moo Cow for as long as I can. Choo choo the Milk Train is coming into the station! However, I will not set myself up for failure. I will breastfeed as long as I can and that will be fine. I will do my best as a mother and that will be fine. I'm not a superwoman and shouldn't be expected to have superpowers, neither should any mother. Am I excited? Yes. Scared? Hell yes. But this is OK.
Monday, July 1, 2013
23 Weeks Pregnant With Twin Boys: Tired, tired, tired and the moody blues
I'm 23 weeks pregnant with twin boys (17 weeks to go!) and have been asked constantly: "How do you feel?" Well ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, I'm tired and thirsty. Thirsty and tired. My doctor says this is normal - my body is working for three afterall. Although, I drink so much water, camels think I'm crazy. Cha-ching! Badda-bing!
That was a dumb joke but I don't care because I'm tired and moody and, as a pregnant woman, I get a free pass because I'm also told constantly by strangers and family alike: "Wow twins! You're going to be huge." Thank you, thank you so much because I wasn't already feeling whale-ish, especially as I waddle down the street amongst bikini clad, sundress wearing ladies. Summer, summer, summertime stinks when you're large and uncomfortable. Well, not waddle. I've caught myself waddling once or twice but I'm not full-blown waddle-woman yet. YET!
It's funny ... well not funny but whatever ... I've read about pregnancy side effects (for lack of a better word) and haven't felt the brunt of them until lately, not counting my first trimester nausea-o-rama. My mood is weird, fluctuating throughout the day and week from depressed to optimistic and in between, I'm exhausted and get exhaustion hangovers as in I did housework most of Saturday and went to the movies that evening (the Raisinets were divine, the Sprite was cold, and "The Heat" was funny) and Sunday I was worthless. My feet have started to ache (even upon waking, which is odd because duh, I was asleep for hours and hours - why do they hurt? Do I sleepwalk?), I can't think straight and zone out constantly, I'm forgetful (especially mid-sentence), I'm so thirsty I drink more than a gallon of water a day and even water before bed and throughout the night (when I wake up to pee from all the water I've been guzzling like I used to guzzle white wine) and when I arise in the morning what do my wondering eyes see in the toilet bowl? Pee the shade of a highlighter. Am I pregnant with twin boys or camels (although I have nothing against camels)? You be the judge.
Another gripe for the Almighty Complaint Department of Pregnant Women Everywhere is my dreams. What is up with my dreams? They are scary or erotic. Last night my best guy friend died in my dream. Before that the nightly lineup typically featured murder (sometimes I am a serial killer, sometimes I am going to be killed - don't worry, I didn't kill my friend last night, HIV got him, which is equally uplifting), mayhem and dark, twisted things or erotic but odd. What gives? Shouldn't I be dreaming about the babies growing inside me, my inadequacies as a mother, losing my children, forgetting I had children, etc. - you know, all the crap I think about only right before I am trying to fall asleep? Although, I was told bad dreams are good for post partum depression, which sounds lovely (if it's actually true) but also makes me wonder why the person who told me that is concerned about me having post partum depression in the first place. Oh snap! Sorry, did I tell you I'm moody?
Maybe my scary dreams mimic my fear in regards to raising twins. I won't know what to do, I'll be overwhelmed, it will be hard, I'll lose my identity ... Let's not forget giving birth isn't something women look back on fondly.
In more uplifting news, I did get 3D pictures of Baby A's face (Baby B was not cooperating) and he's a cutie. It's weird to think he's my son. I will have two sons. That's weird. I forgot to put on underwear today and made tea this morning but left it on the counter at home but I am allowed to have children - boggles the mind. For goodness sakes, I laugh at Peter Griffin's fart jokes. However, I think it's one of those things that's weird now but, eventually, I won't be able to think of life without my sons. So, let's end this post now before I start complaining again!
That was a dumb joke but I don't care because I'm tired and moody and, as a pregnant woman, I get a free pass because I'm also told constantly by strangers and family alike: "Wow twins! You're going to be huge." Thank you, thank you so much because I wasn't already feeling whale-ish, especially as I waddle down the street amongst bikini clad, sundress wearing ladies. Summer, summer, summertime stinks when you're large and uncomfortable. Well, not waddle. I've caught myself waddling once or twice but I'm not full-blown waddle-woman yet. YET!
It's funny ... well not funny but whatever ... I've read about pregnancy side effects (for lack of a better word) and haven't felt the brunt of them until lately, not counting my first trimester nausea-o-rama. My mood is weird, fluctuating throughout the day and week from depressed to optimistic and in between, I'm exhausted and get exhaustion hangovers as in I did housework most of Saturday and went to the movies that evening (the Raisinets were divine, the Sprite was cold, and "The Heat" was funny) and Sunday I was worthless. My feet have started to ache (even upon waking, which is odd because duh, I was asleep for hours and hours - why do they hurt? Do I sleepwalk?), I can't think straight and zone out constantly, I'm forgetful (especially mid-sentence), I'm so thirsty I drink more than a gallon of water a day and even water before bed and throughout the night (when I wake up to pee from all the water I've been guzzling like I used to guzzle white wine) and when I arise in the morning what do my wondering eyes see in the toilet bowl? Pee the shade of a highlighter. Am I pregnant with twin boys or camels (although I have nothing against camels)? You be the judge.
Another gripe for the Almighty Complaint Department of Pregnant Women Everywhere is my dreams. What is up with my dreams? They are scary or erotic. Last night my best guy friend died in my dream. Before that the nightly lineup typically featured murder (sometimes I am a serial killer, sometimes I am going to be killed - don't worry, I didn't kill my friend last night, HIV got him, which is equally uplifting), mayhem and dark, twisted things or erotic but odd. What gives? Shouldn't I be dreaming about the babies growing inside me, my inadequacies as a mother, losing my children, forgetting I had children, etc. - you know, all the crap I think about only right before I am trying to fall asleep? Although, I was told bad dreams are good for post partum depression, which sounds lovely (if it's actually true) but also makes me wonder why the person who told me that is concerned about me having post partum depression in the first place. Oh snap! Sorry, did I tell you I'm moody?
Maybe my scary dreams mimic my fear in regards to raising twins. I won't know what to do, I'll be overwhelmed, it will be hard, I'll lose my identity ... Let's not forget giving birth isn't something women look back on fondly.
In more uplifting news, I did get 3D pictures of Baby A's face (Baby B was not cooperating) and he's a cutie. It's weird to think he's my son. I will have two sons. That's weird. I forgot to put on underwear today and made tea this morning but left it on the counter at home but I am allowed to have children - boggles the mind. For goodness sakes, I laugh at Peter Griffin's fart jokes. However, I think it's one of those things that's weird now but, eventually, I won't be able to think of life without my sons. So, let's end this post now before I start complaining again!
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