Category — Belly Pics

My first post-partum belly pic. Looks an awful lot like my 20 week pic, doesn’t it?

I’ve been getting lots of requests for an update. As you can imagine, things are very hectic around here. So here’s my update in list form:

• Yes, I have gone to the bathroom multiple times without incident. I did not have any tearing or stitches, so it hasn’t been an issue.
• The girls are doing awesome. We’ve had to supplement with formula because they lost over 11% of their body weight within two days, but they’re doing great.
• Nursing is going well, though it is a challenge. Luckily, I had a militant crazy nurse on my last day who set me straight and showed me how to REALLY nurse. She saved my ass, seriously.
• I miss being pregnant. A lot. I have seriously lost my shit on several occasions and I hope I can keep my head about me. Longer post on that to follow.
• My pelvis still hurts like hell.
• I still waddle and my back and hips haven’t figured out what to do with a heavy but empty uterus yet.
• I can reach all parts of my legs now.
• I can sit upright on the toilet like a normal person.
• My house is a fucking disaster.
• I am jaundiced and have a tough time staying on my feet for very long because my iron’s low.
• My legs have shrunk down from their tree trunk-like state, but my feet are still really swollen.
• Someone told me that when you have a baby, you go to the hospital with a husband and leave with an idiot. I feel sorry for them. Chris has been nothing less than totally amazing. Thank you, babe. Over and over. Thank you.
• I am curious about the state of my vagina, but am too scared to look.

I’m sure there’s more. If you have specific questions, leave a comment!

Yeah, I’m still here.

I had a royal emotional breakdown last night. You see, I’ve been feeling like a bit of a failed circus act lately, and really it’s our fault. We’ve been on the edge of our seats, setting the expectation that these babies are going to arrive “any minute now.” So, it’s only natural that everybody and their mother is calling and emailing and asking when the babies are going to get here.

Then, faced with the possibility of induction today/this week, I really started to feel pressured, like I NEED TO GO INTO LABOR TODAY OR ELSE. You see, as much as I want to meet my daughters, I’m not a fan of the induction route for me except in the case of making it to 38 weeks, which the perinatologist already set as a cut-off date due to the shared placenta.

Anyhow, all of this finally got to me at the 11th hour.  With Chris offering yet another “trick” to put me into labor, I pretty much lost it and told him to stop telling me what to do (sorry again, baby). The hints and advice of how to get these babies out is just too much now. The girls clearly don’t want to come out yet, and that made me feel like a big, fat, pregnant failure.

Anyhow, after a tender talk and lots of sappy hugs, we figure that unless it’s a medical necessity to induce this week as opposed to next week, we’ll just wait. Yes, I am willing to go to 38 weeks with these babies. 

I’m really not sane, am I?

Today I was supposed to see Dr. Amazing, but the receptionist put me with the wrong doctor so I rescheduled for tomorrow. Clearly, that’s a sign, right?!? (I’m pretty superstitious like that, so don’t laugh too hard.) So really, by the time we see the doctor anyhow, there will only be six days left till I hit 38 weeks. I can certainly wait. It’s not like I’m ever going to see a bikini for the rest of my life either way, so what’s the difference? 

I feel much more at peace now, and that makes this mama-to-be very happy. We’ll see what the doctor says tomorrow.

In a last-ditch effort to naturally induce labor, I went to an acupuncturist this morning. It was my first foray into the world of ‘alternative’ medicine and I’ll admit, I was skeptical. Not because I’m a die-hard believer of Western medicine, but because I’ve tried so many idiotic things to bring on labor at this point that I had zero expectations.

After an initial overview of my health and symptoms, Dr. J took me and Chris back into a small room where I laid on my side on a table. The doctor explained everything she was doing and started out by inserting a bunch of needles into my skin: one on each of my hands, a cluster on my lower back, and several on my feet and ankles. They didn’t hurt at all, but some of them definitely gave off a distinct feeling of energy being released or tapped. Dr. J explained that if a particular point is really full of energy, it’ll give that charged-up feeling when you poke it.

After I was well punctured, Dr. J brought out this brown cotton-y looking stuff. This is called moxa, and it’s placed on the ends of the needles and set on fire.

Yes, I allowed this. No, I was not drunk.

Dr. J warned me that the blazing moxa on my feet would probably feel like it was burning my skin, but assured me that it wouldn’t. Well, one of the needles starting SEARING deep into my foot and I cringed in pain, gently informing her that it burned. “It’s good practice for enduring the pain of labor!” she sang. So endure, I did. Wouldn’t you know the fucker blistered my skin? Maybe there was lots of energy in that one.

After setting me on fire, Dr. J burned some sage and waved the flaming herbs around me and Chris. The whole experience had a lot of fire, now that I think about it. It was like being back at a Grateful Dead show. 

Then, Dr. J put these little ear seeds in my ears. These are teensy tiny silver balls stuck to a bit of adhesive that go on pressure points on your ears. I guess I’m supposed to rub them. They kind of hurt.

Finally, she poked THE TOP OF MY HEAD with a needle. And so I was cooked. Literally. She put me under a heat lamp and let me cook for a while. This part felt lovely and relaxing. 

Nothing’s happened yet, but I’ve been reading that it’s generally a 48-hour window where something might start stirring. Which pretty much puts me out $125 if the doctor wants to induce me tomorrow. 

Sigh. 

At this point, I have tried almost everything in my power. (And NO, I will NOT try castor oil!) This is probably the end of my will, folks. I see Dr. Fantastic tomorrow at 1 p.m. I’ll keep you updated!

Okay, this isn’t funny anymore.

Has my uterus just given up? Have the babies forgotten they’re supposed to come out? Because I’m ready, folks. I’ve had it with the phone calls asking if there’s any news. Nothing’s happening.

So help a girl out, will ya? Do a water-breaking rain dance. Grab a uterus-shaped voodoo doll and give it a squeeze. Sprinkle some happy-baby gris gris into your tea. Send me a bunch of cervical hocus pocus. Or just put in your guesses for the birth here. 

I did lose my mucous plug (a.k.a. “the mustard plug”) over the course of two nights, Monday and Tuesday. Apparently, that means JACK SHIT and I’m still pregnant. I’ve tried everything. Walking (well, if you can call the shuffling waddle that I do “walking”). Spicy food. Sex, both with and without my husband. Long conversations with the girls. I’ve been picturing a flower opening up and birthing babies. I even had half a glass of wine. I’m *thisclose* to sitting in front of reruns of “A Baby Story” with my legs spread open so that the girls can see what they’re supposed to be doing.

Other than the obvious extreme aches and tear-jerking pains, everything is just fantastic, thanks! The non-stress tests are going well. Here’s a picture to prove it — it’s the last known photo of me smiling. Babies are great. Etc.

Short update this week. I hate to sound so ungrateful, but my morale’s in the shitter today. Perhaps I’ll catch up later.

 It’s great to be a Florida Gator, especially after whipping the pants off Georgia.

(Is it just me, or does it look like I’m hiding a watermelon under my shirt?)

I wasn’t sure I’d ever write “week 35″ in an update post, but guess what? I just did, sucka. 

I’d like to take a moment and share this photo montage with you. It’s my belly growth in five-week increments. What a difference, no? 

It feels like my pelvis has been crushed by an elephant, no exaggeration. Every muscle in my body is screaming for help. My belly is hanging low with the weight of over 11 pounds of baby. In fact, you can’t really tell in this week’s belly pic, but my belly has really dropped – there’s all kinds of room between my boobs and my uterus. When I walk, my belly touches the tops of my thighs. My hips feel arthritic. My lower back….my god, my lower back is a mess. 

BUT! Mentally, I have a second wind. I am so excited, I can barely contain myself. And actually, let me gloat for a minute and say I am so effing proud of myself for growing these two babies. Just knowing how well they’re doing makes every pound, every stretch mark, every skin tag worth it. Indeed, the girls are in the 60th and 62nd percentile for growth – basically, it’s two singleton-sized babies at this age in my uterus. 

Can I grow some babies or what?!?

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Wow, look at how incredibly massive I am long my hair is getting! 

I am massive

The presidential debates last night got Baby B all riled up into a bizarre bump in the center of my belly. 

What’s the matter, baby? Did McCain’s lizard-tongued slurping scare you?

(God, I hope she didn’t flip back over….)