3 years, 2 babies, 1 impatient mama-to-be

As of yesterday I have been married for 3 years. I was thinking a lot about how I am going to have to start sharing this man of mine with 2 little ones soon.  I am pretty sure he was made just for me, so hopefully I learn to share quickly because I have been spoiled for the last 3 years.

I am off of bed rest. The good: I am free, I am a bit happier,  I can get a few things done. The bad: my muscles are completely atrophied, I get winded walking from one end of the house to the other, I am so full of baby parts that I can barely move, I have pink eye and one of my pinky toenails is falling off.  Apparently I am falling apart. Literally. Hmm, maybe I need to go back and find more good… 

At the moment these babies would be eliminated from the olympics. They are totally juiced up on steroids. I think it would be cute to have them arm wrestle each other (stay tuned) so that is in the master plan if they ever come out! Technically I am due in 5 weeks. Well, twins are full term at 38 so 3 weeks. I have 10 pounds of baby shoved inside of me. All of you women who have big babies...I feel your pain. You have my respect.

So that's the update around these parts. And trust me, these parts are getting pretty round.

47 days and counting

That's right. I have made it on strict bed rest for 47 days. Am I going crazy? Yes. Is there any end in sight? I don't know. What I do know is that there is only so much one can watch and read. There is only so much time in the day that one can rest and sleep. And I am pushing the limits. Big time.
But we are growing by the day. That's the goal. Bryan calls me 'big belly' and I'm not even offended cause I am. I have a hard time breathing. I can only lay on my right side without pain (due to the arrangement of little heads and feet), I eat like crazy and my entire body shakes when both babies have a dance party together which happens quite often.
The doctors have slowed down talk about steroid shots and new anti-labor drugs and have started making comments like, "You can stop the medications at 34 weeks" and "We will go in and take them at 38 weeks". Oh heaven help me if I make it to 38 weeks. XL T-shirts are already being filled out quite nicely around the midsection.
So for now that's the update. Supposedly there is a whole world going on outside of my house, I am going to have culture shock when I am finally free. I hope that you are all enjoying it...I will join in again some day.

Back to school (or not)

Today school starts back up without me and I am having a hard time with it. I thought I would be just fine but I keep looking at the clock and thinking what period I would be teaching at that moment. It makes me sad. I try to keep thinking about all the crappy stuff I had to deal with to make not being there easier. Like the girl in my 1^st hour that would never stop talking and the girl in my 3^rd hour that I had to dress code 3 times a week because she was showing way too much skin (and tattoos).  I make myself think about the time I had a gang leader in my class that did nothing and the time I kicked him out of class and told him that he was wasting oxygen in my room (that was also the time I was a little nervous walking to my car after school). But it doesn’t work.  I am still missing it. Gang members and all.

Maybe it was divine inspiration this morning that took my thoughts back to starting college. I got all set up in my tiny dorm room and thought about how my entire life was changing. I was in a new state, I knew no one, I had no friends, and I got lost everywhere I went. What if I didn’t like it? What if I just wanted to go back home? What if the next 4 years of my life were friendless, eventless, and miserable? I was scared. I decided to give it a shot and I am so grateful I did. I can’t look back at those years and not smile. I made friends that are still my best friends today. I learned my way around, got a great education, and loved, no absolutely loved it. All of it. 

So today I will give it a shot. Good bye to grading papers, taking attendance, and kicking out gang members. Hello to cooking 40 fingers and toes full time so that someday (hopefully not too soon) I can be so grateful for spit-up, gross diapers, strollers, and smiles. Sounds like an adventure worth giving a shot.

This human incubator would like to sleep in

If you have ever stayed at a hospital you know that things get up and running pretty early. Around here is no exception. I have no problem with getting up early in normal life, but in my current predicament, what's the point? Get up early and...read? Watch TV? Go back to sleep? Knit a baby hat (yes, it's my attempt to being crafty)? See my reasoning? I say let the human incubators sleep. All day if they want to. Here's what the morning is like around here.

6am- nurse shift change and medication time (not to mention the earlier waking up for more medication)
6:15am- someone comes in and loudly empties the trash (which we have learned to put right by the door)
6:45am- Nurse pokes her head in and sees that I am still sleeping
7am- breakfast comes in. They just set it on my table and I eat it later...usually cold but that's ok
7:30- the Tech comes in to take my vitals, if she's nice she tells me she will come back later to get my weight (lovely)
By 8 I have usually given up and turned on my light, which prompts the nurse to come in and check me out.
By 8:15 they are in my room cleaning and mopping as I am hooked up to multiple machines to see if I am having contractions.

Apparently I have created a little reputation because everyone says they save me for last since I 'sleep in'. Really? The other girls stuck in this joint get up early? Really? I just figure that I should enjoy it while the sleeping is still possible.

p.s. Happy New Year! I hope you all had fabulous celebrations! I, in fact, was sound asleep and loving it.

Freedom

Yesterday I got 2 field trips. Ya, that's right. I haven't been outside of my hospital room for 6 days and I got out twice yesterday. I went to an ultrasound in the morning (all the way downstairs) then Bryan and I toured the NICU last night. It's amazing how I forgot how it feels to have a breeze going through my hair (Bryan was driving the wheelchair really fast - or at least it felt like it). I heard noises, I saw real people. in the real world. Weird. Life is happening without me. Oh well.

If anyone has ever been in a NICU, you had a humbling experience, I am sure. We got treated to a tour by one of the head Doctors (thanks to my Dr). Wow. I am amazed what the medical world can do. Wow. As we went around, I pictured myself on many of the hard wooded rocking chairs there rocking tiny babies connected to all kinds of monitors. And I felt comfort. Not comfort that we would be there soon, but comfort that whatever happens will be ok. Not the perfect situation, but we will be ok.

In the elevator I talked to a mom whose baby has been there for 3 months. The mom was beautiful, confident, and happy. And I am glad that I got to see that, because I needed to.

Next need: fresh air. Will you take a big deep breath of fresh air next time you go outside for me? It's been a while (12 days to be exact) since I have been able to do that, I appreciate it. Oh, the little things that we take for granted.

Some may think it's sad

Christmas time means doing puzzles in my family. Well, at least one puzzle per season. My parents got a new one this year and donated it to the cause (the bored in the hospital cause). Well, Bryan started it last night and by the time we woke up this morning it was done. He won't tell me how late he worked on it. My contribution? I helped pick out the edges last night. Yes, I helped find a measly 20 edge pieces on a 500+ piece puzzle. Anyway the puzzle says, "I'll be home for Christmas". My nurses all think it's sad. I don't. Can't you make home where ever you are? Sure Christmas morning will be different but it's ok. We are home. For now. And we are just fine.

As for today, we are trying some different meds to stop contractions that will not stay away. I am still not sure why these babies are in such a hurry to get here but they are not giving up easily.I hope this stubbornness doesn't last for the next 18 years...

Readjusting my swing

I don’t like playing baseball. Not to brag, but every other sport I can hold my own in. However, I have never been good at the baseball/softball thing. It’s not the catching, pitching, throwing, or even running that I am horrible at – it’s the batting. Yes, I have never been able to figure that one out. I can swing with all my might and totally miss the ball. And I hate it so usually I just avoid it all together. 

One summer I got to coach Primary softball. It was great. I learned how to help people (kids) that can’t hit the ball (like me) be able to get the bat on the ball so they can play. You have the kid take a swing then pitch the ball to the bat. Yes, you pretty much throw the ball at their bat. Works like a charm. They connect with the ball and go running. That’s my kind of softball. I swing and the ball will be there. I can do that.

Apparently (until Thursday) I was under the impression that I was playing Primary ball in life. I was ready to swing and was planning on the perfect pitch coming right at my bat. No adjusting, contact guaranteed. Here was the pitch:

Get pregnant in July, work during a healthy pregnancy until about spring break (when I have to stop because I am too uncomfortable and big), in April give birth to a 8 pound chubby-cheeked baby (we like big babies in our family), then be done with teaching.

Life is not like primary ball. In fact sometimes you get a pitch so wild that you say, ‘Wait a minute, was that one for me? That’s not fair. The girl right before me got an easy one right to her bat.”

Here’s what my pitch looks like now. On Thursday I left school for a regular doctor’s appt. They discovered that I was having contractions (that I couldn’t feel) and was sent to the hospital ASAP.  Friday an ambulance took me to a different hospital better equipped to stop my labor or take care of tiny babies should they refuse to stay in. Although they have managed to stop the contractions through lots of drugs, I am here to stay for a few weeks. Hospital. Bed rest.  Weeks. Brutal. Talk about a wild pitch. 

So we are finding ourselves readjusting. Readjusiting to living in a hospital room, having a career end way sooner that expected, long days of uneventful bedrest, and possibly tiny babies sometime in the future (but let’s hope not too tiny).

So, maybe now I will keep my blog updated. Although, I am pretty sure that I will run out of things to blog about…considering my entire life now exists in a tiny little room. But it will be worth it It just will take some readjusting.