Or:
The Great Wait, Day 5
BeBop took me for my weekly check up yesterday and normally, I go on my own. It occurred to me in a moment of abject terror that as the nurse calls my name and walks me to the exam room, SHE ALSO WEIGHS ME.
"CRAP!" I whispered under my breath. "I should have had him wait in the waiting room!!"
She was a doll and told him to head down the hall towards exam room 4, and then she weighed me. "It’s just so depressing," I said. "I think at this point I weigh more than he does!"
I wanted him to be in the room to get used to the poking and the prodding and, specifically, the shoving of gloved fingers far into Girly Towne. I expect a great deal more of that in the days to come and I wanted BeBop to be as ready as he can be.
I reminded him once again (for the frillionth time) that when I’m giving birth (either vag OR having a c-section) he is NOT to go downtown. Nooooooo…he is to stay UPTOWN. I don’t want him seeing the miracle of birth close up, nor do I want him seeing my intestines laid out on a metal tray next to my belly.
My cervix is still closed, and the contractions are very sporadic. They’re not getting stronger or more frequent, so I guess for now the babies are hoping to celebrate their very first Thanksgiving from the inside looking out.
My hormones are going loco, though. Even more so than usual for me! Every morning when the babies wake up and start moving around, I say, "Good morning Jackson, good morning Parker." Lately I say, "Good morning, happy 36 weeks and 4 days," but only now I say it with huge gulping sobs that get stuck in my throat like, "Good morning Jack — son, sob, good morning, gulp, Parker. Happy 36 weeks and — gulp, heave, squeak, 4 days…"
Pathetic.
Here are some follow up pics, because seriously? I have NOTHING to say…
The decorations on the walls are…stickers! Isn’t that clever? They look like paint, but you can place them anywhere, in any pattern you like, and remove them or change them around later if you want to. We bought them in a local baby store and BeBop put them up a couple of weeks ago when he did the shelves.
Here Bosco is trying to enjoy a quiet, sunny day. Perhaps one of the last quiet days he spends for a long time. He told me to include the next photo, evidence that I did, in fact, place the stuffed animal in the car seat for practice and take it to the CHP (= Center of Hotness, People!) and to further prove, in case there was ANY doubt, that yes, I am crazy…
Here I thought you just did a little bit of amazing painting of wall monkeys. Here is yet another thing that I look at and think “why the hell didn’t I think of that”?? I have lots of those thoughts.
Aww, I remember the crying every morning. Poor thing!
You’ve done so well, and you’re so close to the end!
You’ve done an amazing job – caring for your puppy, giving birth to a blue bear and continuing to carry twins. I mean, really, who wouldn’t be crying every morning?
it’s me, thebloggerformerlyknownas theoneliner.
i love the pics of the bear. you must be hormonal by the look on bosco’s face. he looks quite frightened.
hang in there, girlie you’re almost there. : )
I am so, so excited to come check out your blog only to find that you have had the babies!
You are going to be such a fabulous mom!
Good luck, good luck, a thousand times good luck!
I love love love the bear. But you need one for the other seat, too.
Really. Do that, then take a pic.
The stickers rock, sort of like those Fathead things for sports. (I’m bowing my head in shame because I even know what those ARE.)
Keep on keeping on!
I was born weighing more than my husband, and nothing’s changed since then. It’s his fault, the skinny little shrimp. And so unfair, since he eats more than the typical family of four. Still, the thought of him being there when I am weighed is absolutely horrifying. Thank all that is holy for sensitive nurses.
So close! How funny Jack is one of the names we are seriously considering. You beat us to the punch, and I couldn’t be happier for you!
Best wishes to you!
I’ve been meaning to comment to say that we had a beautiful, wonderful “rescue” Boston Terrier named Sarge (most inappropriate name ever given how gentle and unassuming he was.) He was terrific with my son from newborn days on up. Sarge died last Christmas at age 14, but what a wonderful seven years he gave us. I am sure Bosco will be as sweet with the twins as Sarge was with my son. They are terrific family dogs!
When I went in for my C-Section the anesthesiologist asked me to write down my weight because he said, “I don’t think it’s right for a full term pregnant woman to have to announce her weight to a room full of skinny people.” I loved him more than anyone at that point.
Oh Dear,
I know that your body and spirit are probably getting tired. I’m a full two months behind you and I haven’t experienced the swelling with the twins (YET!) and yesterday, well, let’s just say that yesterday was a day.
Your muscles are probably aching, your belly is probably itching like crazy, your feet must hurt and then… giving birth to a blue bear must have been less than delightful.
I’m checking in ya daily to see how you’re doing, so hang in there dear friend!!!!
((((((hugs))))))
Update, Watson? Or are you….ahem…otherwise PREOCCUPIED???
Are you pondering what I’m pondering, Pinky? 🙂