Yeah. No news yet. I sincerely wish I had some sort of productive actions to report, but instead, I just feel more miserable by the day.
Nausea, severe hot flashes, diarrhea (as fun as it sounds!), constant achiness, back pain, cramping (that never goes anywhere), whole body itchiness, heartburn that never goes away, indigestion, bad swelling, headaches, dizziness, total insomnia…
And now, with the added bonus of some serious sinus-infection/cold/flu-like symptoms. What. The. FUUUUUGH.
Meanwhile, everyone else seems to be going into labor (or at least showing signs in that direction), people due 2, 3, or even 4 weeks after me all show signs that their bodies will, in fact, expel their residents at some point. But me? I mean, yeah. I am so incredibly grateful to have avoided preterm labor, but really. It’s taunting me at this point. I am physically miserable, and these boys, given their druthers, would stay inside me FOREVER. I have had the odd contraction, and more of them over the past several days than in the past, but they never go anywhere, and they are all focused solely on my lower back (all the pain, none of the progress). I have TWO babies in there, and my body seems perfectly content to torture me for as long as it damn well pleases. My friend with a singleton, due a week and a half after me, chirpily updates her Facebook status to reflect that she is contracting regularly and headed to the hospital today… I may kill her.
I am almost to the point of complete hysterics. I know I have a forceable eviction date set, but I’m terrified that I’m going to see the OB today, and he’s going to discover that this sinus nonsense is, like, an actual FLU or something, and they will postpone the c-birth. I may lose my mind and perform my very own c-birth a la hari-kari if there is no promise that this pregnancy will be ending in the next couple of days.
And yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. The end sucks. The end is hard. Everyone suffers at the end of their pregnancy, and I know that I have gotten off SO easy throughout this pregnancy, with minimal symptoms for the first 30+ weeks. And I know I am so ridiculously lucky to find myself at this glorious end. I really promise that I know how seriously wonderful it is, how many people would kill to be here, how long I wanted to be here myself. But perspective has totally flown the coop at this point. It is time. I am DONE. Boys, I love you, but GET OUT. Get OUUUUUUUUUUT.
Somehow, they just don’t seem to hear me.
Sigh. It’s not so much that I need the pregnancy to be over (though it is definitely a big part of it), but rather that I need the healing to begin. It’s that I know that getting these boys out is only the first step in an arduous process of rebuilding some semblance of physical normalcy. I cannot begin to recover from 38 weeks of physical insanity (plus the 6-ish prior weeks of IVF torture) until this pregnancy blessedly ends, and I know that the recovery itself will take plenty of time, too. It’s like the doctor telling you, “This will only hurt for a second,” but knowing that they’re going to have to do whatever injurious action over and over and over and over again, never knowing when will be the last time you’ll have to endure that pain. The only thing you know is that Step One is “Removal of Uterus Residents”. It’s crazy-making. You will eventually feel better, but who knows when that might be. Ugh.
In other news, there’s, like, soccer games and stuff going on right now. H is (naturally) a huge fussball fan, so we watched games on both Saturday and Sunday. The US/England game on Saturday was good (resulting in a 1-1 tie, which may as well have been a loss for England, according to their fans… poor Rob Green…), but Germany really performed well against Australia on Sunday (4-0 win, which is a really high score for soccer). And H was really happy, talking to the boys about this player and that, how this one moves the ball well, and that one is a good striker, etc. I foresee many more days of H watching soccer with the boys (um, if they are interested, of course…). “You all stay here and watch the game with Papa. Mommy’s going to a magical place called a BAR! She’ll be home in a few hours!!” Someday…
Today, H’s mom arrives. She lives in Washington State, so she’s making an enormous journey to come out southeast. Her flight leaves reasonably early, but will not arrive until 11:40 p.m., and because it’s so late (and our airport is *tiny*), she will need H to pick her up, because the rental car places are closed then. She can’t find a decent rate online, and so she is waiting until she gets here to see if she can find something better. Luckily, my mother loves a project, and so I have tasked my mom with taking H’s mom here and there to search for a rental car on Tuesday. Given my current physical/mental state, I presume that the only thing I’ll absolutely “want” to do will be to sit in bed and drip snot all over the place and complain about my hips and back. We’ll see.
In packing for the hospital, I seriously considered packing a giant bottle of my favorite red wine, but thought that perhaps my doctor wouldn’t be so fond of me mixing pain meds with alcohol (nor would my babies be particularly fond of consuming my alcohol-tainted milk/colostrum… actually, they may be quite fond of it, but I don’t know that it’s the best thing for them, health-wise… Don’t fret, Red Zinfandel. I will get to you soon enough.). So, instead, I packed a shitload of chocolate (Reese’s miniatures, Cadbury Fruit and Nut), crackers (the cheese or pb-filled kind), almonds, magic pooping cookies, dried fruit, and gummi bears. I’m a snack fiend generally, and I’ve spent time at this hospital before, and I know that their food SUCKS and is unreliable in it’s delivery, so it seems like it might be a good idea to bring some food of my own to tide me over between (possible) meals. Any other snacks you’d recommend? Should I just demand that visitors not be allowed admittance without some sort of outside meal or tasty treat?
Ah. Two more days. That is my chant. Two. More. Days. Two more nights of horrid discomfort and no sleep before I begin even more nights of slightly-reduced discomfort and interrupted sleep. Here’s hoping that 48 hrs from now finds me with babies on the outside.