Evelyn and Ainsley.

They were born tonight.

Ainsley is at Children's Hospital holding her own. She is tiny but is stable.

Evelyn is here with us, for now. We lost her some time this evening. We are loving her now while we can. All this time, we had no worries about our Hog Baby.

This is unreal.

Goodbye Chinny Chin Chins...

...hello twinny twin twins!

I wish I could upload a picture of my swollen face from my phone. You guys? It's epic. I don't know if it's the steroids or the preeclampsia or some side effect of disgusting hospital food, but my face is YOUGE! And feels like it's stuffed full of cotton. I sent it to a friend, and her husband called me Jabba the Hut. And I mean seriously, I laughed my ass off because the accuracy of that observation defines the saying, "it's funny because it's true."

Last night, I got the results of the 24 Hour Pee Jug Extravaganza. Apparently, 300 or higher is mild preeclampsia. My number was just over 1600. So I win! I win at the Pee Jug Extravaganza! My prize is a cookie and a scheduled c-section tomorrow!

It looks like tiny twin isn't in good enough shape to tolerate labor. I trust my doctor's opinion. She's twin B and is breech anyway. Given her recent behavior, I'm sure I'd deliver Hog Baby vaginally and then have to have a C for my stubborn itty bitty because that just seems to be the way this pregnancy goes.

I'm...ok. Ish. Off and on nervous. I go from, "I will rock the shit out of this shitty situation!" to just plain old, "shit."

Things that keep me positive: two full doses of steroids to strengthen their lungs. 32 weeks. My body isn't helping them at this point. I'm in good hands. I can drink beer soon. I can wear SHOES soon!

Things that are peeing in my cheerios: 32 weeks. Uterus of doom is making this all my fault. I won't see Olivia for another 4 days. I might not see these babies for a while. Holy hell they are cutting me all open and whatnot.

I think it'll all be fine. It is nice to have a plan anyway.

Family of five, coming right up!!!

No/yes/possibly/doubtful.

Updating is pointless, but I'm by myself with nothing but an iPhone and wifi soo hey hey hey, Internet!!!!

So my blood pressures and labs were all Rockstarish. Rockstarish, like, normal. As opposed to: full of vodka and traces of rhino tranquilizers. Why don't I just say they were normal? Because I'm a dick, that's why.

The doctor was all, let's look at your 24 hour urine and get you the second steroid dose and then you can be all moon-faced and complainey at home instead of here. Mmmmkkay. So I tell everyone who has rearranged their schedules to watch our outside baby so we can have two more babies and make them watch those two, too, while we go out every Friday and drink vodka and participate in recreational rhino tranqs. (because we are totally Rockstarish).

Then. Then!!! A half hour later? I go for my growth scan. Would you believe me if I told you that tiny twin hasn't grown at all in two weeks? I bet you'd believe me because I'm all woe is me and here is my dramz and oh wait! Let me lay it on you and then not update for like three weeks!

Still waiting to hear from my doctor but I'm guessing I'm having babies this week. Again. Or, always? Or...whatever.

And? AND!!!!! Mark got food stuck in his throat and had to go to the ER. And now he's in GI getting it fished out. I haven't cleared this with him, but there was a similar incident with a hot dog while we were dating that obviously is still mentioned with maniacal laughter on a regular basis. So clearly I am anxious to hear what sort of delicacy is lodged in there this time so I can prepare my ridicule accordingly.

In better news, he is in the very same hospital as me. So they can wheel him down later and we can spend the night groaning inisety while making the other patients think we are bumping uggs. Should be fun!

But a beard would go well with my lamb chops!

7 hours since my first steroid shot. I am disappointed to report that my biceps are no larger (but they do have an amazing amount of cellulite, which I officially declare to be the new black!) and I have not grown a full beard.

I am speaking in a man voice, but only because I've been awake since 3 a.m. And am running out of ways to amuse myself while sitting in bed tied to a bunch of monitors and sporting the Outkast Rib From Smoky Hot Hell (where everyone has onion BO and is a close talking overly affectionate hug giver but I can't move because OW! MY WHORE RIB!).

Blood pressures are down to normalish (128/92...better!) platelets and liver enzymes look good, babies are kicking me in my unmentionables. And by unmentionables, I mean my bladder, vagina, and butthole.

Peeing in a jug is awesome!!!! I'm sure the nurses love handling my urine. My nurse is nice and has a really cute haircut. This is the best blog ever. I love cheese.

Uterus of doom FTW!

Blood pressure: 158/104
Protein: All up in my pee
Pitting Edema: indeedy

In the hospital for monitoring. I put my gown on backwards and almost had an inappropriate nudity situation. One of my ribs is popped out and the prospect of narcotics is making me hot and bothered. I have to pee in a jug.

Should be getting steroids soon to help develop the babies lungs. You know, FOR DELIVERY THIS WEEK?!

Here we go.

Christmas Cop Out

Merry...whatever you celebrate! We are staying home and eating food and enjoying the calm before the inevitable storm.

Elegant Damask Noir Christmas Card

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Blizzy, Thankles, Reprieve. Oh my.

I had really good intentions of  updating right after my appointment on Monday.  Like, really good ones.  It was a blizzard (we got, I think, 10 inches of snow, on top of the 12+ inches we got last weekend) and so I figured I'd use that as a great excuse to curl up with a warm beverage and my laptop and just update the shit out of my blog.

Heh.

I was worried about our tiny twin.  This always happens.  I leave a good appointment all high.  Yay me!  Mah uterus is badass and mah baybees is beeger!  Mah shit smells faintly of roses and fruit punch Gatorade!  You wish you were me!  I love cheese!

But then, a few days later, I'm all mah uterus is doomy and mah baybees probably isn't beeger!  Mah shit actually smells really...shitty!  Woe is me!  Cheese is all I have left!

So that's why I decided that I'd keep my appointment during the blizzy and just make sure that both babies were behaving.  This gives you a good idea of the road conditions:



The turnpike, which is usually the first road to be cleared.

 It took me triple the normal time to get there, and I figured it would be really fun to have my blood pressure taken after that drive.  Plus, I was really excited to talk to the doctor about my ankles.  Which have been upgraded from Cankles to Thankles, seeing as my calves are so swollen that they are the same width as my thighs.  When I wear normal socks, it basically cuts off my circulation, so this picture doesn't do it justice.  But it's all I have as proof of Thankle status:

My toes have more rolls than a bakery.

Yes, that's a picture of me, watching Mark assemble our THIRD new TV (the other two we bought were defectiveish).  We've had several debacles related to our newly finished basement and our newly purchased furniture and electronics, and also I broke my iPhone* and wasn't eligible for an upgrade and thus had to pay full price for a new one which is OK because clearly I AM MADE OF MONEY AND SAUSAGES AND GODDAMNED RAINBOWS.

But anyway, my blood pressure is normal and I am not peeing protein and so my doctor was less than impressed with my Thankles and the fact that the only shoes that fit are Crocs.  You know how I feel about Crocs, and now my doctor does, too and he didn't even need to see my exposed ass to learn how I feel about Crocs.  Dr. Stewart FTW!

Here is a picture of me, in public, wearing compression hose** with Crocs (fur lined!  with Jibbitz!) and pajama pants:

I was tempted to wear Mark's shirt that has a picture of a wiener dog and says,
"Have You Seen My Wiener?" because that's what I wear now every day at home because none of my maternity clothes fit anymore.
I'm saving it for when I go totally insane, which should be in a week or so.
I can see the news reports now:
"Woman In Wiener Shirt and Crocs Goes on Eating Rampage in Target."***

The babies were looking pretty freaking awesome at my appointment!

Hog Baby: 2lb 10oz.
Tiny Baby: 2lb

Tiny baby actually grew more than Hog baby this week.  Yay for eating cheeseburgers, tiny baby!  Her fluid is totally normal and the doctor thinks that she bought us another two weeks at least before we need to talk delivery.  I'm 30 weeks today, so that will put me right at 32.  Good, good, good news!

I'm still going to the doctor every week, and now we are adding in two nonstress tests per week to keep a close eye on them.  But as long as the nonstress tests look good, we aren't even going to do another scan until 32 weeks.  Fingers crossed!  My first test is this afternoon! 

In addition to my three appointments this week, I'll do my glucose test (to determine if there will be a return of the Wilford Brimley to this blog) and a bunch of blood work.   And I have to go to the regular doctor because either someone shoved a knife in my ear, or I have an ear infection.  Or the swelling has moved from my Thankles to my ear.  So many possibilities!

A bunch of other stuff happened with my Outside Baybee, better known as Olivia the Febrile Seizure Champ, on Monday.  I'll just save it for another post.  But she's good too, and she's actually in her bed yelling "MAHM!  MILK!" right now. 

Happy Thursday!

*My fingers?  Also fat rolly sausages.  I totally butterfingered my phone and just dropped it for no good reason at all.  Carpal tunnel + sausage fingers = broken iPhone (squared).

**Thanks for the suggestion, but even compression hose can't contain the power of the Thankle.  All they did was make it more painful to take my socks off.

***I really need to get my caption length under control.

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One Year Ago:  10 Months: You know who else can do that? My Cat.
Two Years Ago:  Too Sweet for My Own Good
Three Years Ago:  Lazy blogger has no post.  :)

Overwhelmed

With Relief...

We had our appointment on Monday...like, more than a week ago. 

It's too confusing to refer to Twin A and Twin B, because they move all around in there and it's never really the same - so we call them Big Twin (or, as my doctor says, Hog Baby) and Little Twin.

Big twin is...a hog.  No, really.  The doctor called her the Hog Baby, which is one of the many reasons I love him - nice, funny, and smart.  Hog Baby is measuring exactly on track.  No drama for her.  2lb 7oz.

Little twin is...hanging in there.  1lb 10oz.  Over 14 days she grew an appropriate amount for 13 days.  This was good enough to earn us another two week reprieve!  Yay!  As long as she keeps it up, and continues to look healthy, there is no need to rip the babies from my uterus of doom.

I am totally excited to meet these girls, but not yet!  Not just yet.

With Kindness....

Thank you very much for all the nice comments.  Really.  I do read them all and I appreciate every single one.  I promise I wasn't trying to make drama by not posting.  I've been completely exhausted and every time I thought about posting, I just took a nap or ate cheese instead.  Or, I ate cheese THEN took a nap.  Either way, it probably involved cheese and nap, is what I'm getting at. 

I have returned a few emails, but I promise to return all of them soon.

A group of my local mommy friends organized to bring us meals so that we wouldn't have to worry about cooking.  And oh my sweet baby jeezus it was the best thing ever.  I never realized how much of a relief it is to not have to worry about dinner or cleanup.

I'm not an overly emotional person, but every time I think of how nice people have been?  It makes me a little weepy.

Verclempt, if you will.



Talk amongst yourselves...


With Ouchiness...

So, I'm off work on short term disability.  Not on strict bed rest or anything.  Just, "hey, take it really easy and gestate two properly sized humans, mkay" rest.  If this little baby doesn't keep growing, we are going to have some pretty little preemies, and I figure the best I can do is eat well and sleep often.  The doctor agrees.

Yesterday I cried mid-afternoon because my body hurts so bad.  My fingers and hands and feet are so swollen.  I seriously cannot fit my feet into one pair of shoes.  If I have to go out, I wear my running shoes untied.  Today I took the dogs out to pee in Mark's shoes and I looked like a pregnant clown (partly due to the shoes and partly due to my hobo-like appearance and rosy cheeks).

I can't even open a water bottle without wincing. 

And yes, I know, woe is the pregnant lady, etc.  But wow.  I have hip pain, back and neck pain, and can't stand more than a couple minutes without getting a hot flash and feeling light-headed.  It's pretty much all I can do to take a shower these days.  I typically save up all my energy to play with Olivia and then I nap while she naps and when Mark gets home from work. 

I sleep sitting up.  Like the Elephant Man.

Being nauseated and in pain for 6 months is just...exhausting.  I am sure that Mark would agree, since he is working and then coming home and doing every single thing around the house.  I love him.

With Cuteness...

Oh, but my daughter.  You guys?  She is so much fun right now.  She's getting so smart and funny and just full of The Mischief.  She knows about half of the alphabet, she grabs the remote and starts pressing the buttons while screaming "WORD WORLD," she dances and laughs and smiles. 

I have pictures to post but not right now.  Because I don't feel like it, basically.

We switched her to a big girl bed and she loves it.  The past few nights, she has grabbed her blanket, said bye to Dad, the Dogs, and the TV (Parenting WIN!) and then climbed the stairs while yelling "BED!"

I love her. 

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One Year Ago: 38 Weeks, 6 Days
Two Years Ago:  Possibly Changing My Name to Wilford Brimley
Three Years Ago:  What?  I have a blog?