Belly update! Week 26

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belly week 26

I’m now 26 weeks pregnant, or 6 1/2 months along. The babies are each about the size of an eggplant! In fact, I had an ultrasound this morning and each baby was one pound, 13 ounces each, so just shy of 2 pounds. We should break the two pound mark hopefully by the end of next week.

26 weeks also means that we only have six weeks left before I deliver. Crazy how fast it’s gone, even though it’s been a shortened pregnancy filled with doctor’s visits and hospital stays.

During the ultrasound, our girls were head to head, face to face, lying diagonally across my body. I’m so curious if they’re aware of each other, I keep asking but no one really knows. I mean newborns don’t even know their hands are attached to their bodies for the longest time, but it’s still sweet to see them smooshed together and acting like they love each other for now.

Loungey, loungey, lounge

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Before I begin, I want to take a moment to reflect on a milestone; today marks two weeks since I have been admitted to the hospital. I’ve survived two whole weeks!

We’re lucky here at high risk obstetrics that we have a little patient lounge (slightly ironic because it does not encourage patience among the 20 expectant mothers on the floor) that includes a TV, microwave, kettle, fridge, and is stocked with books, magazines, videos, and games for kids.

While it’s lovely to have somewhere to waddle to when my teeny curtain area is driving me up the wall, it can be a frustrating experience. Much like in the office kitchen, the lounge can quickly be taken over by mess. And yes, I know what men have been saying about women being messier, is true.

I usually just waddle down to the lounge to get water about 50 times a day since it’s so dry in here, but usually don’t hang out much in there since there’s always people in there with their guests.

This weekend, Santa came, and every time I went in there, it seemed to just be getting messier and messier. Food covered every surface and garbage was all over the floor. Often, you’ll find people’s food trays in the lounge, abandoned with their picked-over meals, as well as their garbage.

Monday, I had enough. It was disgusting. Not sure if people just assumed someone would clean it up, but I don’t see how it’s someone else’s responsibility to clean up that type of mess. We’re all old enough to have children, which means we’re old enough to know better. I tidied up the books and magazines, threw out the garbage and recycling, dumped people’s drinks, and wiped down the surfaces. When I told Jas, he looked at me like I was a crazy person, and possibly infectious with insanity. “You CLEANED the lounge? It’s not your job to do that.” But, I kind of feel like it is, we all live here, some of us for months and months, and others just a few short days, but why should we take our chill space and turn it into something gross just out of sheer laziness?

The lounge itself is touch and go. I find it hard to be in there as it can quickly be taken over by people and their guests, even when you’re already watching TV or eating a meal, but also because sometimes, the other women can come in and it becomes a time to gripe about our food (it’s awful, there’s no denying it), being stuck here, our babies, our situations, or even things we have absolutely no control over and are not being affected by, like the weather. (Oh, is it cold outside? I haven’t been outside in two weeks to notice.) Being here is hard, no one would deny that, and it’s extra hard since it’s Christmas, but the constant reminders and complaining do nothing to make any of us feel better.

So, I waddle back to my curtain, with my water, plug in my headphones, and watch something, because what else am I going to do?

Look! There’s two tiny baby bums!

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It’s amazing how quickly you forget the little things. Jas and I went to a multiples class last night here at the hospital and our teacher showed us a video that included a shot of a baby crying so much that they were turning that dark red/purple combination of a truly pissed off baby. I turned to Jas and wide-eyed said, “I remember Buds used to do that!” but before watching the video, those moments had completely slipped my mind.

As parents, we tend to think of our kids now, not as newborns, or even infants. When I think of Buds, I picture a hilarious toddler asking for more cheese and giving me big running hugs, I don’t think about him as the teeny tiny adorable yet scary newborn that was thrust into my arms after a super fast delivery.

I definitely do not think that random people on the street doling out advice to passing parents have anything of value to add to people’s lives, but I will agree that time goes so quickly, as everyone and their mother and nana will tell you. Our first year with Buds happened so quickly, and I was lucky enough to be home for it all. Now, his second year is almost done in a flash.

With the girls, we know they’ll be in the NICU, so their beginnings at home with us will be more like their three month mark. It’s weird to think about the difference between the babies’ “real” ages and their gestational age and how that will factor so much into their development and even into things like their immunization schedules.  I talked to our teacher about the effect of the NICU on the girls then being brought home and bonding with each other, as they will have spent time in separate incubators. Despite the fact that we’ve been there before with an infant and know the basic way to care for a child, having twins, and preemies, no less, will be an entirely different experience.

Although the point in the class where we added up newborn twin care, and it came to something like 21 hours out of the day, was terrifying, the pictures and videos of the newborns took me back to the beginning with Buds, and I’m excited to have a new beginning with our baby girls. Plus, their little bums just looked so cute!

Newlywed bliss?

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weddingshotJas and I just got married. Like just, not even two months yet. Which I suppose means that we are still newlyweds. I’m not sure many newlyweds spend their first couple months married separated, with one holed up in the hospital and the other at home with a toddler. But, this is our current reality.

We weren’t married or engaged when we had Buds, though people naturally assumed that we were and would always refer to Jason as my husband. After we did get engaged, the only time I ever used the word fiancé was when I was doing wedding stuff, for some reason it just sounded so weird, so snooty. Since being here I have easily said and heard the word husband 7000 times. It’s weird to refer to him as my husband as we’ve been through so much together prior to our now six-week marriage.

We had planned on taking a honeymoon right after Christmas, but things happened, and here I am. So, no honeymoon, unless you count this time apart as our honeymoon, which he may in fact do. After living together and having a child together, it’s so strange to be completely separated when we should be celebrating our new adventure together. Once the twins are born, our relationship will shift again, as it naturally does when children are involved, which means we will have even less time for just the two of us, but will be embarking on a whole new way of life together. We both wanted a big family, and now we will have one.

Besides, a one year anniversary may just be the perfect time for a honeymoon.

Santa Claus is coming to town

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Santa visit

Santa came to visit us today because we’re just extra special. Some of the women had their kids here to meet Santa, and they were so excited, running down the hall to see him. It was both adorable and slightly heartbreaking, for all of us stuck inside the hospital for Christmas.

Buds is with Grandma and Papa today, so not able to see Santa, although I know that he would have looked him over as if deciding whether or not he stacked up. The nurses and staff decorated our wing, and little ornaments hang from the ceiling. Jas bats at them like a cat whenever he visits.

A little Christmas cheer is spreading through the halls here at High Risk Obstetrics, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

The great boob debate

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Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past fifteen years, you know breastfeeding is the best for babies with healthy moms. It’s pretty much become an assumption now that after you deliver, you breastfeed, with doctors, friends, and perfect strangers saying it more as a statement than a question, “You plan to breastfeed.”

When Jas and I took our prenatal classes when I was pregnant with Buds, breastfeeding was an entire class, while postpartum depression barely made a blip in the conversation (something I still find bizarre given what we know about it). My plan was always to try and see what happens. So, that’s what I did. I tried and tried and tried and tried. I tried until I was bleeding, aching, sore. I tried until he was losing more weight than the recommended 10% and his diapers were dry. I tried despite lack of sleep and food. I tried because the specialists and the nurses and the doctors told me to “just keep trying.”

I tried until Jas came home one night from work (he was back to work within two days of Buds’ birth) and found me distraught at not being able to feed our son. Jas sent me to bed and took over, and ultimately we gave Buds formula. At his doctor’s appointment the next day, my doctor asked how the feeding had been going, and I nervously told her about the formula. My doctor, old school in so many ways, looked me in the eye, held my shoulder and said, “It’s ok to give your son formula when he’s hungry.” I exhaled the breath I was holding, expecting the usual “just keep trying” speech. I did, in fact, keep trying for another couple weeks, using all of the milk-producing hints I found, but to no avail. Ultimately, I stopped and Buds was fed on just formula until he was six months.

Breastfeeding is always an entertaining topic to discuss with moms, because when I would give Buds formula, I would get the nastiest looks out in public, like I must naturally be a horribly lazy, self-centered mother, but ask my breastfeeding friends and they will say they get the same looks if they try to nurse in public. So it’s expected for us moms to breastfeed, but only if other people don’t have to see it. And don’t even get me started on the mom-on-mom hate that happens related to feeding, especially in the online community.

I never felt bad for giving Buds formula, after all, I was feeding a hungry baby, and looking at him now, you would never know he started life so small. When Jas and I took a tour of the NICU our girls will be living in, the pediatrician had talked to us about breastfeeding, and I explained what happened with Buds. His response was to try, and even a couple of drops of colostrum and milk can help a preemie. A nurse then showed us around the unit and explained what it would be like at the beginning.

“Naturally,” she said, “you’ll be pumping your milk right away.” Again, I explained my past attempt at breastfeeding. For easily another ten minutes, she proceeded to tell us how breast milk is the best and only way to feed a baby and especially preemies as they already have so many other needs.

Walking to the elevator, Jas took my hand, and without me saying anything, said, “I don’t want you to stress about the feeding. You’re already so worried about the babies, and we’ll see what happens. But I never want you to feel how you felt before with Buds, that you were a failure, that you couldn’t feed him. We’ll do what we can for our girls, but don’t stress.”

And that is why I love my husband.

Belly update! Week 25

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belly week 25We’ve hit another milestone, 25 weeks! Yay! With every week, our baby girls grow stronger and will do better if they are delivered. Also, at 25 weeks, we have 7 weeks left to go!

So our little cantaloupes are no more, now they’re two cauliflowers! Not as sweet, but pretty funny to picture two cauliflowers in my belly, especially as I actually think cauliflower is pretty gross. Inside, those two little ladies are growing cuter and continue their important development. Today at my ultrasound, they were shaped like an inverted L, with Twin A lounging along the top of my body, head right under my belly button, and Twin B was straight down, with her head down as well.

Another fun fact is that according to my friend, when I laugh, my belly shakes like a bowl full of jelly, so in other words, I am becoming more and more like Santa every day. Better lay off the cookies.

A room of their own

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I’m pretty sure that a lot of parents enjoy decorating the nursery, especially with their first baby. When we were having Buds, we lived in a small apartment, which meant no painting, and also meant that his room was shared with our small office desk and chair. Since we couldn’t do much, I used wall decals and meticulously arranged monkeys dangling from palm trees as well as some of our favourite maternity shots over his crib.

Right now, the girls room is literally one crib and white walls. That’s it. No dresser, no change pad, nothing pretty waiting for them to welcome them home. Our doctor suggested that we not make any purchases until 24 weeks, just in case. I listened, only buying a few things right before coming in to the hospital to get us through the time in the hospital and first few days at home.

Knowing that our baby girls will be in the NICU for some time, I want them to have a lovely room to grow in. Jas and I have talked about décor and I spend some time in the hospital perusing our options. I feel like Pinterest has really ruined us normals who aren’t going to be arranging some elaborate nursery, complete with hand-painted wooden dolls, or whatever is au currant. Buds’ monkeys have been transported to his new room, but are peeling away. At home, in a box, I have a complete cars and trucks scene, his favourite things since, well, anything, which I hope to have up and looking fabulous by his birthday in February.

I know that we have lots of time after they’re born to get everything done, unlike with a full-term pregnancy where you’re shipped out of the hospital ASAP and then you’re at home with a newborn and have no idea what day it is, let alone the desire to start decorating.

In the end, our girls don’t need some Pottery Barn catalog room, their room will be special, because these ladies are special and, really, how long do we have before they tell us they hate their room anyway?