Thursday, April 27, 2006

In the middle of the night...

I woke up in the middle of the night (nothing strange there) feeling hot (also not unusual). I rolled over to look at the clock, which said 350, and I thought, “well, that’s why I feel hot.” And then I woke up a touch more and realized where I was. And then it was 3:51.

Other than my ridiculously interrupted sleep (and bizarre dreams) pregnancy is mostly going well. I have perhaps more than my fair share of aches and pains, but the babies are growing nicely (and doing their fair share of kicking) and my perinatologist told me I have a fantastic cervix. Really. So far, it seems despite what it took to get to this point, my body is doing surprisingly well at this whole pregnancy thing. Except for how uncomfortable I am. And the heartburn. Oh, the heartburn. But that’s me, and not the babies, so I’m counting myself lucky. 24+ weeks and counting.


A while ago, I wrote about the weird experience of going to the Moms Parents of Twins club. Last week, we went to our first prenatal education class, which was also weird. This was actually an Infant CPR class, and a very small group - one other couple, plus a single woman. I puzzled over the other couple - clearly not pregnant (actually, I don’t think the single woman was, either, but that was less clear initially), fairly established looking, and strangely familiar. After studing them across the table for a minute, it came to me. The woman, G, was one of the moms I met at the Twins club meeting - she’s the one expecting twins via a surrogate. We didn’t talk much during the class itself, though she and I both reacted to the initial training video (horribly anxiety producing), the somewhat creepy training doll (it had replaceable faces that pulled off for each couple), and the confusing steps we had to practice (is the child responsive or not? blocked airway? is the chest rising?). After the class, we chatted with them for a bit - J stayed with her husband, and she and I headed to the ladies’ room. “We’re doing the expectant moms going to the bathroom thing,” I said, and she smiled. What? She’s an expectant mom too. (I suspect that’s not obvious to a lot of people, though.) While we were gone, the guys apparently had a nice chat. Her hubby, V, shared that they used IVF, obviously (uh, yeah, actually it is obvious) and J noted that we did too. So we’re all on the same page there. They’re a bit older, and perhaps more financially stable (though after who knows how many attempts at IVF and finally a surrogacy, well, who knows?). In any case, we have our first set of twin-parent-couple-friends. I hope. I didn’t get their info or anything, but I’m sure we’ll see them at a twin club event at some point or another.

(I meant to write more about the Infant CPR class itself - it really was quite bizarre. It started with this video that was really terrifying - like, here are some examples of frightening situations you may or may not be able to do anything about, but we’re going to show you what you can try anyway, just for kicks. The training doll not only had a peel off face, but a peel-open chest -- so you could see the ribcage. And the practice routine depended largely on how focused the instructor was at any given moment. Still worthwhile, I think. But not what I expected.)

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Mum's the Word

I’ve been a bad blogger. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, though actually stringing together words is sometimes more complicated than it should be. I think I just don’t know how to talk about this part of it. The part with the plans and preparations and fears and excitements. And I know that sounds silly. It’s not so much the “infertile writing about pregnancy” issue, though I do think that’s part of it. It’s just that I don’t really know what to say. Only that’s not true - I have lots to say, I think. I just don’t quite know how.

I think maybe it’s an identity problem. Writing about pregnancy and preparations and fear and trepidation is to assume a pregnant identity. I’m doing okay with that out here, sorta, maybe, but I’m not sure yet how that translates here. Plus, I have so many little things floating around that I want to share or work through or whatever, and I don’t even know where to start.

I guess I’ll take it one post at a time.
Starting tomorrow.
I hope.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Miscellany and mush

My mother, who recently decided she didn’t want to be called “Grandma” because it seemed too old (something I’m not holding against her in the least - she can try to have them call her whatever she wants. It’s not like they won’t make up their own word, anyway) went shopping last weekend while on vacation, and apparently bought a boatload of baby stuff. Despite her disavowal of the label, she’s sure acting like a grandma :)


In other news, my brain has turned to mush. Really. My memory is shot. I have trouble remembering what I set out to do when I get up, or go to another room, or open up a web browser. I can’t do basic math (not that my arithmetic skills were ever all that hot, but still - adding 2 + 3? Not the stuff of geniuses). It’s a good thing I’m a list maker, or I don’t think I’d get anything done. And as it is, I still have to remember (1) where I put the list and (2) to check what’s on the list.


Best of all: I recently updated my blogroll and got to add a second star to two dear friends.


Did I mention mushbrain? Because that might explain how I drafted this post a couple of days ago and then, somehow, didn’t post it. Um, yeah. And on that note, I’d better track down my list again and see what else I thought I’d already done.