When will I be able to breath again?
September 3, 2013 § 43 Comments
Being pregnant after infertility is really just very weird.
It is definitely not what I thought it would be. Which was pure unadulterated relief. Joy. Heavy, happy sighs. Floating of baby names and predictions of gender. And joy. And relief.
That was clearly very naive of me. It is all of those things. At times. But it is also some other really not so nice things.
My faith in this pregnancy can be understood as coming in three stages.
Stage I: Right after an ultrasound, I feel on top of the fucking world. Like life could not improve if I won the lottery and my family could live forever and I could travel and not work feel no stress ever again. This is obviously the best stage. And, consequently, the time when I am most excited and can get absolutely no work done. I fill my day with googling things like “twins AND sense of self” and “side-by-side versus tandem double strollers” and “baby carrying twins.” It is bliss. I’d live there forever if I could.
Stage II: And then after a few days, I start having nightmares. I mentioned these before. But, guys. They are so bad. I do fine during the day, but at night I dream of dead babies. Dead babies sliding out of me when I pee, disastrous dead baby ultrasounds, stillbirths. I’m able to snap myself out of it when I wake up. I can keep the monsters at bay during the day. I continue my google frenzy. And then I go to sleep again. And the icebabies cometh. This is happening about 4 times a week.
Stage III: Finally, as the next ultrasound draws near, I can’t even control the fear during the day. I’m certain I’ve spent the last weeks kidding myself. There are no more babies in there.
It’s such a confusing rollercoaster. Right now I’m in Stage III. My last appointment with my RE is tomorrow. It is the day I am supposed to ‘graduate.’ I am going to predict a few things. I will not sleep tonight. I will shake during my drive in. And I will have ridiculously high blood pressure when I get there. The Artsy Engineer and I talked about baking some of my grandpa’s oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for the nurses and other staff and taking them with us tomorrow, but I don’t know if I can do it. What if we come in carrying cookies and everything they represent (e.g., optimism, hope, ease) and come out with no babies? I don’t think I could manage the pity I would feel (imagined or otherwise) from the providers. She even brought cookies. Poor dear.
In true fashion, though, I am at least trying to fight this beast tooth and nail. I want so badly to enjoy this pregnancy. It may, after all, be the only one I have.
So, we did some crazy stuff over the last couple of weeks.
First, we started belly pictures. I think all I have right now is bloat, but my stomach is definitely not as flat as it was a month ago and I know it’s going to ‘show’ faster than a singleton pregnancy, so I want to document this progression. I’ll be 11 weeks on Friday, after all. Second, I went maternity shopping with my mom this weekend, who was visiting from out of town. If these twins continue to grow, I will need these clothes faster than most. I didn’t really want to buy any, but I have very few friends who have been pregnant and none who live in the area. And my mom was really excited about it. I may not get to see her again before I start needing stretchier pants, so I let caution to the wind and went with it. It was frightening. And exhausting. I used a prosthetic belly while trying on a couple of items, which was waaay WEIRD. We were there for nearly 2.5 hours. And I came home in significant enough pain that I was having a hard time walking without wincing (and I have a pretty high pain tolerance). Pretty sure it was coming from my uterosacral ligaments around my tailbone, but I can’t be sure.
And third (this is the real kicker), we bought a new car. We needed it. Both of our cars have nearly 200,000 miles on them. And my car is breaking down regularly. It was time. What I did not think it was time for was the type of car we went with. Get this. We bought a minivan. An 2011 Odyssey with only 20,000 miles on it. For a steal.
I thought I was years (possibly a lifetime) away from a minivan. But, listen. I am about to have 2 kids (positive thoughts), I have two dogs who come with us everywhere, and we drive all over the country to visit family. More than anyone else I know. I’m talking 16-24 hour one way trips. Comfort and ease are crucial.
We were first thinking we’d go with a wagon. But then we looked at the size of the double strollers. Those suckers come up to my husband’s nips (folded up). They are enormous. There is no way we could fit stroller and dogs. Or stroller and groceries. Or a stroller and anything else. I was shocked. So, naturally, we moved up to thinking we’d get an SUV. But holy gas mileage! And, really, many of them didn’t have too much more space than the wagon. And they’re expensive!
Then I test drove a minivan. And I was like, alright, Lentil. This car is perfect. It will carry your shit comfortably. It gets 28 miles to the gallon. It drives more like a car than a boat. You hate driving boats. You can WALK into the back seat and feed your babies while driving across the country.
I realized that the only thing that was not perfect about this van was, well, that it was a van. You know what I’m talking about. The van image includes the mom jeans, the food stains, those horrible stick figure family decals on cars (my reaction to which Things That Hurt Me in My Soul describes perfectly). Which is so silly. But still. I’m still in my 20s (for another month and a half). Am I really at the point where I am considering buying a minivan? Me? But I’m hip! I go to shows and love beer. I eat pretentious foodie food and make my own household products and shop at consignment stores. I DO NOT drive minivans.
But, really. Does a woman piling out of a luxury SUV with a couple of kids and a husband carrying two diaper bags look hip? No. Definitely not. It isn’t the car that determines the hipness. So, who am I kidding? The reality of the situation is that we will become a family of 4 (please please, universe) overnight. In March. And I’m pretty sure all I’m going to care about at that point is making the day-to-day things simpler and more convenient. So a minivan it is. We pick it up from the seller on Thursday morning. And I’m actually incredibly excited about the car and pleased with the decision. Unreal. Maybe I’ll even post a pic. You guys can help me think of names for it. And, if push comes to shove (har har), it has plenty of room for this.