My Pregnancy: Does This Fat Make My Fat Look Fat?

The following is a massive turbo PowerRant of epic proportions intended to purge some of the noise before we get all up in our labor with twin girls. Forgive any typos, two young women have ganged up on me and are giving me internal noogies and liver-twisters for the past two hours. 

But first, for the sake of balance and gratitude, the wonderful things about this pregnancy:

• The prospect of two more girls who are even remotely as wonderful as our 16-month-old, Luciana. I know they'll be different from her and from each other, but I've seen our work, and I gotta say without an ounce of arrogance, we make good babies. I mean, c'mon, she says "hi" to everyone she meets, calls dogs "Fuff-fuffs," dances to the King of Queens theme song every night (and then loves the MN lottery drawing). And then we read books ... lots and lots of books after all that television. Ahem. She also smells so good. No matter what. 
• Getting three kids out of only two pregnancies - efficient! I would not have gotten pregnant again. I can promise you that, Charlton Heston "from my cold, dead hands" style. 
• The positive attention you get when people find out it's twins - and then when some folks tell you that you don't look big enough to be carrying twins. God bless you. Also when people tell you that you look great and you can tell that they mean it. Bless you, bless your heart. Im gonna light a candle for you, my friend, and that's the truth. 
• Naming two more girls. So much fun. Even if your oldest brother has already made fun of one of them. 
• Refreshing the nursery with new artwork and first name letter decals for two girls. SO FUN! I never knew how much I'd love getting ready for babies, but I really do. From the laundry folding to the etsy shopping and craigslist stalking for deals - I have loved every minute of that part. Finding a matching crib to the one we already had (for less than what we paid for the new one from Target) was one of the greatest days of my life, seriously. There's something so satisfying about readying your home and a special room for your baby on the way. That reminds me, when's my steam cleaner shipping? Also, what have I become? I used to let dishes fester until they whispered my name. Now, I'm actually giddy about my new Shark vac! 
• Feeling two babies move. This will be in the rant section, also, because it's pretty intense and miserable at times. But it's a lot of fun, too, and magical, and reminds you that these people that you'll love for life have been traveling around with you for the last 9 (10 when it's all said and done) months. I look at Lulu and still can't believe that she came out of me. She was instantly her own woman, but she rode shotgun in my womb for 9 (10 long) months, first. Surreal.  
• The extra support, love and encouragement we've received from virtually everyone in our life. I will never forget it. Ever. 
• The new friends and incredibly talented birth professionals who've been nothing but generous, loving, supportive and excited for us (Nicole Stecker, Jess Helle Morrissey, Miranda Daby, Sarah Longacre, Margaret McKinley Owens, Megan Crown, Colleen Moore, Dr. Dennis Hartung, Sarah Biermier ... to name just a few). I would (almost) willingly go through this pregnancy all over again if it meant making the acquaintances of these gifted and loving people who serve families with courage and excellence. 
• The random acts of kindness and generosity from people you knew and liked (or maybe even friends of friends you haven't met) but maybe didn't realize how much they really cared about you and your family. They give you items for babies, refer clients to your new business or connect you to other people and resources that make this journey easier. Kara Root comes to mind. From sweet, unexpected notes on Facebook, to donating clothes and equipment to our family so that we don't have to find it or spend money on it - every time, I'm overwhelmed and humbled by the sweetness of people. 
• Pampering myself without guilt. This mostly means napping, resting, putting my feet up, sleeping in, closing my eyes, laying down, doing Hypnobabies or taking a bath whenever I get a chance. But I also went to the spa twice (once from a gift card, thanks boss), got a cleaning lady (some would say more of a sanity measure than pampering) and have been going to yoga (100% essential, actually, but often feels like pampering) and out for lunch and dinner with my family and friends more than usual. This is all with the knowledge that I will be hunkered down at home with these two new bunnies, getting our bond and tandem nurse on all winter long and beyond. 
• Starting my business from home, being home with my daughter (with a lot of help from grandparents and caretakers), and loving every minute of both of those things. 
• Watching my husband continue to evolve and become an even more exceptional father, husband and best friend than he already was. Also, seeing his glee at the thought of having three girls. 
• Becoming part of a special sub-culture/sisterhood of twins mamas that I never knew existed. I'm sure even more value will come of this when I have no idea how to fix one or more twinsie dilemmas and I can post on a message board and get 20 responses instantly. 
• Rocking my "outside" daughter to sleep while feeling my "inside" daughters kick and hiccup. Then realizing four people are sitting there, four strong women, and knowing my girls are, in that moment, right where they're meant to be. 
• Feeling so special knowing that two more souls chose me as their mama and P.J. as their daddy. The massive compliment that some divine consciousness somewhere thought that I was capable of successfully caring for two more children. I'm flattered. I have questioned your jugement, but I'm flattered! 

Ok, that's not exhaustive, but pretty thorough. Now the shit of it. And I mean shit. If you're not up for my whining, do not read on. And certainly don't comment. If you don't like it, go start your own blog and work it out, sister! 

• Getting pregnant before losing all the weight from the first. That made me really sad and worried. I was getting there. I had worked hard, but certainly wasn't as focused on the scale with a new baby to care for and a career to return to. I had just started fitting back into stuff, in fact. Feeling good, going out with the girls, there may have even been sequined tank tops involved. Sigh. But there are worse things and nursing two should be of assistance with getting back to normal along with a lot of cardio and slowing my roll on nightly dessert ... ok sometimes twice-daily dessert. 
• Instantly becoming a medical ticking time bomb (or being made to feel like one by a few crappy sources) upon learning there were two. 
• Having to switch my medical provider because the midwife group I was with didn't do twins. 
• Starting a new job on a Monday after finding out the previous afternoon that we're pregnant ... again ... way before we'd planned. Our daughter was 9 months old. 
• The worry of going down to one income mere days before the news of twins was delivered. My upset over the job was short-lived with the doors it seemed to open and the balance it promised to restore, however, twins was a whole other upsetting story. 
• Trying to effectively mother a growing and active toddler while being in chronic and at times severe pain. Thank you, God, for a child who is agreeable, largely independent when it comes to play time and just generally the light of our lives. She makes everything seem not just manageable, but wonderful, even on my very worst days. 
• The statistics of multiple pregnancies and births. F*ck you, statistics. Remind me, what are you good for? Moms need preventative practices, not numbers that dance in their heads bringing visions of NICUs and feeding tubes. I know there's a reality to a multiples pregnancy and birth, but a lot of sources seem hell-bent on merely scaring the hell out of you, when you are feeling the most vulnerable. If the goal is healthy moms and babies, there are better ways to communicate that will cause the desired actions rather than total terror, aversion and denial. Trust me. 
• The profound limitation of my birth choices. Here they are: deliver in an operating room in scrubs on my back with my feet up in stirrups with, in many cases, a mandatory epidural and artificial induction at 38 weeks, or, drive to Hudson, WI, for one of a few local, magical OBs who really gets it, who believes in women, in medical facts rather than medicine via avoidance of liability, and who protect and advocate for the natural strength of a birthing mama (twins, breech, advanced maternal age or otherwise). Home birth was also an option we strongly considered and is valid, healthy, safe and wonderful for many families. 
• Elevated blood pressure thanks to anxiety, blood volume, perhaps genetics and general bigness. 
• Anxiety, depression, fatigue, worry worry worry. Also tears. Also gas. 
• The strangeness and often pain and discomfort of two strapping babies battle dancing inside my body. As I write this, they are terrorizing me, making raw and sore the outer boundary of my whole gut, threatening to rupture a bag or two of waters (hey, we're 36 weeks, go for it!), pressing my hips out, rolling incessantly along my diaphragm, stabbing me in the sides (where the f*ck did you find a shiv in there? is that part of my rib?), making it hard to breathe and insisting on tying my urethra into the occasional sailor's knot. 
• Debilitating stabbing pain due either to liver strain (why not in college?) or muscular-skeletal stretching. Kiss your acupuncturist. 
• Burning ribs, mid and low-back pain, sciatica! sciatica! Kiss your chiropractor. 
• Ligament pain and pelvic misery that only gets worse by the week. 
• Pain while sitting. 
• Pain while lying down. 
• Pain while standing. 
• Pain while operating a motor vehicle. 
• Heartburn and waking up with a startle to find the slightest bit of vomit in my throat from reflux. Lovely but perfectly normal according to many miserable mamas on babycenter, ala "I'm so sick of waking up choking on my own vomit! Aren't you?" Again, I can't believe this didn't happen in college. Oh, the irony. 
• Being somewhat robbed of the opportunity relax and enjoy this pregnancy and hopefully unmedicated birth, having done it all before. Having twins is like starting over in a lot of ways. Yes, I know what the pain of labor and delivery feel like and I know I can handle it, but how does that change with twins? I'm guessing not for the better, but I'm trying to program myself to believe otherwise. 
• Worrying about the vulnerability of Baby B that they speak of after Baby A comes out. It's a general term and the thought of a vulnerable baby in any context is not pleasant. 
• All of the normal scary pregnancy risks, but multiplied times two (eclampsia, abruption, previa, distocia ... pretty words with potentially nightmarish outcomes). 
• Swelling. I didn't have much until just about two weeks ago but now it's on. I'm wearing flip flops in October out of sheer necessity and my feet look like matching Honey Boo-Boo's moms, just without the neck rash.  
• Trying to sleep. Insomnia and the logistical nightmare of merely turning over ... there aren't words for how much this sucks. 
• Getting out of bed in urgency only to expel 1/2 t. of urine. 
• The first trimester of extreme nausea marked by abruptly getting up from my desk for the looong walk to the bathroom at my old office, and realizing "There's no way in hell you're going to make it. Why did you even leave your desk? And why are you already thinking about what you might eat after you vomit? Girl, you nasty." 
• Periodically (regularly) behaving like a savage, awoken-from-hibernation man-bear-pig-mama-beast-Rosie O'Donnell creature towards the one man who is made perfectly and meant divinely to walk through this challenge with me. My husband, everyone (applause). Do our partners ever get PTSD from this experience? Because if not, mine will be a guinea pig for the psychotherapy community ... though he's very strong and unfailingly devoted, if I were him, I'd be on Xanax for life. 
• Not being able to hold my daughter as closely as I would like or play with her as actively as she deserves due to the physical limitations of my bloated, painful bodymeats. 
• Feeling separated/distracted from loving said husband by pain, anxiety, super-fatness and fatigue (but keeping the faith that, with intention, we'll be closer than ever once two precious newborn baby girls are in our arms and we can dig in on the job of caring for our little-big family, together and for always). 

Whew. I think that's quite enough for now. Those who know me know that I need not spend a lot of time or energy qualifying any of this with apologies to people who have been challenged with infertility or infant loss (and thinking of you deeply on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance today). Those who know me know my heart, and therefore know that I am infinitely grateful for everything I've been given and unwaveringly empathetic, respectful and loving toward those who have struggled just to make and keep their beloved babies. 

Well, I feel better. But you ... you look pale and unhappy. Sorry about that. Really I am. Now let me tell you about the time the shower curtain got stuck between my epic butt cheeks. Yep, that was my rock bottom (pun intended). Feel better? Good.