Tag Archives: Twin Mom Blog

Rory and Quinn: 5 Months

twins, 1st year, progression, growing up, chalkboard wallThe two of you are five months old now….Quinn, you’re actually five months and 2 minutes old, if you want to get technical, having stormed into the cold delivery room just moments before your younger (but much larger) brother.

People say time is relative but I’d say time is funny….and family is relative.  Five months seems like a quick drop in the bucket, sand in an hourglass, a quick fart in the diaper of life, but it seems like years ago that Jade was pregnant and the two of you were hiding shyly inside her fleshy incubator.

I walked past our television earlier today and saw the first family photo we ever had taken – a young and handsome doctor that wasn’t very good at giving epidurals had snapped it on our digital camera in the delivery room moments after they’d handed both of you to me.  I sat with one of you in each arm and Jade laid stretched out on the table, her arms tied down like a death row inmate and click.  The photo is ours forever.  It just seems like a long time ago.

I put you into your cribs at night and you’re too tall to lay sideways anymore.  In fact, you’re both so big that we have you sleeping in your own cribs now.  We’d put you both in the same crib, on separate sides, and you’d fuss a little and then slowly go to sleep………and then you’d slowly start crawling towards one another and, once you found your sibling, you would start punching and kicking them.  Then the screaming would start.  Game over.

We separated you a few weeks ago and I think it’s fair to say that all four of us are sleeping better now.  Mostly you’ll each wake up only once or twice in the night and often times one of you will actually just sleep straight through.

You’ve both begun to mumble quite a bit but Rory is definitely taking the lead on vocality.  We have a little baby monitor that sits in your room and while we go to sleep we listen to you mumble in the dim light.  “mmmrrr…..scwaahhhh……sshhhmmmeeee….we-we!”  It’s pretty funny…..but at the same time sort of creepy because it sounds like a demon.  You also do this really low growl that sends shivers up my spine.  We’ll be changing your diaper and you’ll look right at us and in a raspy wheeze go, “hhhhrrrrrr habba-habba.  Grrrrr rabba-rabba”.  It really does sound like you’re trying to cast a spell on us.

You’re both sitting up now (sort of) but I’ve gotta say that I think Quinn might be galloping into the lead with stability.  Maybe it’s because she’s lighter?  Rory, you’re like a little cinder block with a face and Quinn is like a feather with a gummy smile.

One of my favorite things to do lately is to face the two of you towards one another and watch you play.  You reach out and touch each other’s toes.  You chew on each other’s fingers.  You steal each other’s toys.  You both cry.  It’s loads of fun.

We’re heading back to South Dakota in about two weeks for your first 4th of July and ALSO your first plane ride.  I’m really excited about the plane ride and I don’t really know why.  Everyone has said that traveling with babies is a terrible, terrible experience but I believe in you!!  You’re going to do just fine.  We’re going to get on the plane and people will love you!  You’ll steal the show – just like a thief at a comedy club!

By this time next month we fully anticipate seeing some shining ivories.  We suspect that Rory may be beginning his teething campaign as of yesterday and Quinn I’m sure is not far behind.  I’m trying to spend as much time with you as I can and enjoy every minute because I’m sure that in six months I’m going to look back at a photo of the four of us sitting on the floor, me half supporting Quinn and Jade trying to soothe Rory’s sore gums and I’ll think to myself – that wasn’t that long ago but you’ve changed so much…

4 Months

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Rory and Quinn: 4 Months

“Little boys should never have to go to sleep because every morning they wake up one day older”.  That’s not an exact quote but it’s definitely an exact paraphrase of something someone said.  And it’s true.  In fact, it’s usually one of my final thoughts before placing each of you into your crib.  I look at you now, today, and realize that you’re much bigger than the day I first met you.  You’ve both grown and changed and…..”matured” isn’t the right word but I’ll use it anyway.  Your faces are filling out and your limbs are getting stronger.  You both smile more and more and you laugh constantly.

This month you’ve both taken a serious notice of one another – uh-oh, it’s 12:54am at the time of this writing and I’m suddenly hearing little noises percolating from the bedroom…….it’s Rory, up for his midnight feeding.  Hello there, little buddy.  When you were born you used to grunt while you slept and while you ate. Now, about three days ago you started to “talk” during any time you weren’t sleeping or eating..  Actually, I suppose it isn’t very fair that I put quotes around that word.  If tonality says anything at all, you both have a mouthful to say to anyone that will listen.  You screech, mumble, warble and sing, sometimes to me, sometimes to your mom, sometimes to your sibling and sometimes to yourself.  I walked into the bedroom a few afternoons ago after getting out of the shower and found you, Rory, lying in your crib on your side, humming like an infant mogwai.

For reference of what a mogwai is, please google search the term, “mogwai”.  Sidenote: Quinn, you sort of resemble a mogwai.  Trust me, it’s okay and is a heck of a lot better than resembling a golem.

I love listening to the two of you make sounds.  Rory, your noises are more like songs and coos while Quinn’s, yours are more in the vein of laughs and screeches.  If you are upset you put your fists down at your side and go, “eeeeEEEEEE!!!!”  When you do this I shake you a little and you laugh, haha.

We also recently purchased you each your very own Johnny / Jenny Jump Up.  We plop you down in this swing that hangs from the door frame and watch you bounce…truth be told there’s not a HUGE amount of jumping that’s happening…..YET…..but I’m sure it will begin shortly.  Currently you both mostly just hang there and stare at one another, swinging around and gently pushing yourselves in one direction or the next.

I’m really enjoying watching you grow but, as usual, it holds a side of bitterness to it.  You’re both rolling over, making noises and beginning to grab things with your hands – you’re turning into toddlers!!  Today we gave you both your first taste of mushy rice cereal and you LOVED IT!…..just kidding.  Quinn, you began to lap it up like a dog but I’m not totally certain you a.) enjoyed it or b.) knew what you were doing.  Rory, you just started to cry.  Perhaps you’d enjoy it more if we splashed a little soy sauce on it?

I’ve started working nights and this last week with the two of you has been fanTASTIC!!  I am so happy to be blessed with additional time to spend with my kidlets during the day.  Working the standard 9-5, I missed you so and was feeling cheated out of a more time-dynamic relationship.  Now the flood gates are open and we get to spend nearly the entire day together before I go to work at 6:30.  It’s GREAT!!

That said, I do enjoy the weekends when I stay up late all alone, trying to remain on my night schedule, when I hear one of your mews from the back room and I rescue you from the dark, bring you into the light and feeding your hungry bellies.  It’s phenomenal having you both around but it’s also nice to get some one on one time as well.  I truly cherish our time together and am always more and more excited to see the people you are becoming.  Will you hate onions?  Will you like rock ‘n’ roll?  What will your favorite color be?  You’re here in our arms but there are so many unanswered questions.  Don’t worry, though, we’ll discover it all together.

3 Months

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3 Months

Rory and Quinn.

Looking at our monthly photos amazes me.  It’s incredible to see how you’ve grown so much in just the last 30 days.  Where you were once so easily carried around with one arm you are suddenly requiring the constant assistance of two.  Watching you grow and change has been an amazing treat but it also saddens me in a strange way.  Part of me looks forward to the days when you will crawl and walk and talk but another part of me just wants you to stay as you are – as our cooing babies.  You are wonderful little people and everyday I find myself loving you more and more.

I suppose that since I can’t control time nor the human growth element (yet…) I should just embrace your amazing process and run with it.  Just promise me that you’ll never be too cool to give me hi-fives.

Earlier this month your mom and I decided to embark on a well deserved vacation up to San Francisco to visit some good friends of ours.  Were we expecting the trip to be different than what we were used to, traveling alone or with dogs?  Yes.  Was it different?  DEFINITELY.  Was it more difficult?  Sometimes.  Was it more fun?  Sometimes!  There’s something strangely exhilarating about changing a babies diaper in the front seat of your car in a light drizzle at a gas station in a town you’ve never been to.  There’s something romantic about waking up at 3am in a strange hotel and watching Mtv with your family.  There’s something illuminating about buying beer then realizing that you don’t have a bottle opener and getting on YouTube to find a “How-To-Open-A-Beer-With-Your-Keys” video.

Rory, you fuss less and less as the days go on and Quinn, your eyes get bigger and bigger.  Rory, you’ve begun to thrash your arms and legs around, swiping at little objects and slapping me in the face while I sleep.  Quinn, you’ve begun to roll over, mostly onto your side and ALMOST onto your stomach.  Rory, you don’t even try to roll; you prefer laying face down and, from one deranged mouth-breather to another, that’s okay with me.  Quinn, you laughed for the first time when your mom was giving you a bath a few weeks ago.  The sound of your coos makes us smile; you’re becoming quite a noisy baby and will “talk” with us if we ask you questions.  Your big gummy smile cracks me up.  Rory, you drool…a LOT.  Honestly, I’m not even so fearful of you smothering yourself in your blankets as I am of you drowning while you sleep.  We put bibs on you in the middle of the day just so you don’t get your shirts soppy wet.  Quinn, you’ve begun waking up at 6:30am pretty consistently.  You are not hungry.  You are not wet.  You just want to play.  You cry until someone sits you up, at which point you look at us, smile, laugh and then start to coo.  I don’t even care that it’s 6:30.  Rory, you sleep all night….you actually sleep all night and most of the day.  The other day you slept 10 1/2 hours.  You are a true professional and you take your rest very seriously.

Everyday I leave to go to work and everyday I think about you all day long.  It’s tough to be away from you for such stretches…..maybe I should tape a picture of myself to the ceiling above your crib?  Maybe I should get you a live webcam?  When I come home and pick you up, it is clear that you recognize me and laugh.  You both do it and those two moments are the absolute highlight of my day.  We’ve got more family coming to town soon – Your Aunt Theresa, who you haven’t met yet and your Grandma June is coming back for her second visit and I think they’ll both be pleasantly surprised at how big you’ve gotten and at how much Rory drools.

TWO MONTHS

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Interview with The Fusionist

Make sure you go check out The Fusionist to see us gab a bit about cancer, careers and fun with IVF.

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Two Months

Happy two month Birthday, Rory James and Quinn Marie!  I guess what they say is true – time really does fly when you’re mad with sleep deprivation and tottering on the edge of delirium!  WEEE!!

Rory, you fell asleep in my arms a few nights ago while I was watching a Roseanne marathon on Netflix.  (Netflix is something that will have probably come and gone by the time you’re old enough to understand….Roseanne is forever).  I took you into our bedroom to lay you in your crib and noticed how strangely big you’d gotten all of a sudden.  It seems you’ve almost doubled in size and the box of “old” baby clothes that we just packed away seems to attest to that.  In some regards it’s sad – seeing you growing up so quickly and watching as certain aspects of your “newbornness” get piled away but it’s also very exciting and amazing.  You’ve become less fussy over the past few weeks (Praise God!  Thank you, Jesus!  Shalom and peace be with you!!) and you’ve actually begun to smile, seemingly under your own will.  You see, previously you’d only lift one side of your lip up into the air ala Elvis but I think you were mostly in the throws of a milk enduced bender.  You’re getting heavier and heavier as well.  Your last doctor’s appointment weighed you in at an astounding 12lbs 7oz and 24.6″.  You, my friend, are a meatball, deep fat fried and covered in cheese.  Don’t worry though, I hear you grow into it at around 14.

Quinn, gentle Quinn.  At 10lbs and 22″, you sit silently on the couch, lying in wait for your perfect opportunity.  You lure your victims in with your large doughy eyes and cunning smile.  You paralyze your grandparents and our friends with your Gerber Baby face and then, when their defenses are down, you strike.  With the wail of a wild banshee and the redness of a cherry tomato, you scream as though you were being drawn and quartered.  It is a rarity for The Fireball to ignite but when it does, everyone should be warned to stand back and, in the event that they are caught in the line of fire, stop, drop & roll.  You’ve recently become much more alert, holding your head up for minutes at a time while gazing at the world around you.  People stop us on the street to say, “Look at that baby!  She just has so many facial expressions!” and then they see that we’re each carrying a child and they say, “You have two!” but Rory is usually asleep, his fists clenched, dreaming about punching something.

Our nights were getting better and our sleep was getting longer and then….we don’t really know what the heck happened.  Suddenly you decided to move back to three feedings a night and refuse to shut your eyes once you’d woken up.  Sometimes it’s frustrating because I feel like you don’t understand how truly delicious sleep can be and I have no way to tell you yet but let me just say this….If I have to be up with two people screaming at me to shovel food down their gullets, I’m glad it’s you two.

ONE MONTH

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One Month

Roe and Q,

Happy one month birthday!

Before you were born everyone told us, “Time will fly by all too fast so you better enjoy them while they’re little” and for once, all the unsolicited advice was correct.  I can’t BELIEVE you’ve been here for a month already – that’s the entire lifespan of a fruit fly!!  Regardless of how brief the last thirty days have seemed, they have packed a serious punch, like a dwarven version of Mike Tyson.  Now, not to sound like a decrepit old woman already but it really does seem like only yesterday that I was still massively pregnant and begging you to evacuate the premises……..

I’ll be honest, this has been a pretty intense month with you so far.  At everyone’s (unwanted) suggestions, we were bracing ourselves for the worst ( The Antichrist) but thankfully you’re not even close to as difficult as we were expecting (you’re only about as bad as The Pope) but it’s still FULL THROTTLE.  Sleeping is certainly not the thirteen straight hours we were used to but we’re still functioning with the every 3 hour feeding schedule you’ve so politely mapped out for us and are THRILLED that you’re on any kind of a consistent schedule at all.  The first night we had you home with us was insane; it was like The Three Stooges Have a Baby.  We were clueless idiots bumbling around with you all night while you were up for 6 hours straight tag teaming us.  After the first night spent inside Dante’s Inferno we were definitely bleary-eyed, sleep deprived and wondering what exactly we had signed up for.  Top to bottom, feeding you has been the most challenging part for us as you both are very thirsty Schrute babies (Dwight K) but everyday is getting better, easier and less painful for my poor mammaries.  John’s nipples seem to be doing fine; he claims to have taken an intensive 12 hour internet boot camp on milk-tating dads.

Both your Grandmas left two weeks ago so we are now fully on our own with you and it was pretty scary at first.  When you cried we felt like chimps trying to disengage an A-Bomb, slapping at random buttons hoping it would shut off.  The first couple days at home with you alone by myself (while your dad was at work) were pretty hard but the more I get to know your separate little personalities and bends, the easier it gets.

Rory, at this point in your life:  you love sleeping on your stomach (much to my and the AMA’s discomfort), hate having your diaper changed, want to be fed the moment you open your eyes, snore while you sleep, grunt while you eat, constantly want to be snuggled and look just like your dad.  I wouldn’t go so far as to outright call you a fussy baby but you’re definitely tipping the scale in that direction.  Hey…speaking of scales……you are a seriously stout little man at 10 lbs 6 oz and 22″ long.  Coincidentally, you are the exact dimensions as an Irish lager and hold the same physical attributes: tall and pale.  Your dad and I frequently refer to you as Meatloaf, Cinder Block or Ham Steak and play Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who gets to lug you around in the Moby wrap.  Don’t get us wrong, we LOVE to carry you with us but in our own self interest and the safety of our lower backs we have to trade you off from time to time and take mandatory 15 minute breaks.

Quinn, at this stage you are our calm baby.  You like to sit in your little lamb chair and just look around, smile while you sleep, love to have baths and are mesmerized by lights.  You are awake much more frequently but are very self content – although when you do get mad you scream very loud and kind of sound like a dying bobcat.  You are also getting much bigger in your own right at 8lbs 11oz and 20.5″ long but do not pack the heavy punch that Rory does, as a little lady you are much more dainty…ironically, you have more chins than a Chinese phone book.  The bigger you get the more you look like me (although at a whopping 9lbs 8oz you still don’t weigh as much as I did at birth) and you definitely have my/your Grandpa Wade’s eyes and eyelashes.  Right now our nicknames for you are Quinnie Pig, The Pig, Bobcat and Voldemort….because sometimes, when you’re swaddled and have a hood on you do sort of resemble The Dark Lord from Harry Potter Book 1 (also known as Harry Potter and the Sorcerors Stone OR as it is referred to in England, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone). Yes, we are nerds, you’ll have to live with it.  The other day while you were taking a nap next to me on the couch you woke up, looked right at me, smiled and put your hand on my face.  I don’t think it gets much better than that.

Has parenting been everything we were hoping it would be?  YES and more.  Has it been as difficult as we were anticipating?  NO thank goodness.  Can we imagine a life without you?  NO…but maybe an evening…We both are so incredibly blessed to have you.  Two years ago when your dad got cancer we thought it was the absolute worst thing that could ever happen to us and we were afraid that we’d never be able to have children.  Two years later, it was directly BECAUSE of that terrible and wonderful diagnoses that we ended up having twins.  Because of cancer, you are here.  Everyone tells us that God can take muddy circumstances and turn them into something gold.  Now, with absolute certainty, we can both say that every sleepless night, dirty diaper and  high frequency scream was worth every moment of chemotherapy.

We’re excited to meet you and talk to you when you’re finally old enough to read this…and for the day that you do: remember to just sit back and relax.  Right now you’re in the other room sobbing because you’ve dropped your pacifier.  Remember, things only get easier.

-mom and dad.

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Birth

Okie, dokie, artichokie, like an old man driving on a Sunday afternoon, this post has been slow in coming.  I’ve LITERALLY sat down roughly 20 times to jot down my thoughts and keep getting distracted by different things (as a new mother, I think you know what I mean…….yeah, facebook).  Se la vi.

Two things I promised myself I wouldn’t do in this post:  1.)  I will NOT be giving you the nitty gritty details about my birth story.  I will NOT tell you about delivering a placenta via c-section or about trying to poop after said operation.  I will NOT tell you about staples in my abdomen or having a catheter.  The second thing I refuse to do on this blog is 2.) Make lists.

Going into the hospital we didn’t really know what to expect.  Not only were we not privy to the sexes of our children but we had no idea how the process was going to shake down.  To help my fellow woman and pregnant post-op men avoid the shallow but perilous pitfalls that I stumbled into, I’ve created a list…and I’m calling it, “THREE THINGS I WISH I WOULD HAVE KNOWN AHEAD OF TIME”.  You, fellow reader, are currently “ahead of time”.  You, friend of friends, can apply these rules to your future experience.

1. THE NOOB

Let’s say you need an epideral.  Would you come over to my house and ask me to do it for you?  No.  Why?  Because I’m not a doctor or professional anathesiologist.  I lack the training and knowledge.  When you go to a hospital, you hope that these people will be assigned to you.  Not so.  You should SPECIFICALLY ask to have all students, residents, nurses in training, etc. excused from the room OR, at the very least, ask to have the syringe removed from their desperate and shakey hands.  They can watch, but they mustn’t touch.  After receiving the lovely epidural twice, the “professional” (ie professional student) decided he couldn’t quite find the magic spot and handed the NEEDLE back over to the REAL DOCTOR.  Why, why, WHY, was there a nubian sticking objects into me without my knowledge??  This rule can be applied to IV placement.  If you’re not good at IVs, you shouldn’t give them.  If you have to “fish around” you should maybe consider a job at the wharfs.  My body is not your ocean.  I am not your class activity.  You do not pay me tuition.  Goodbye.

2. THE BOOB

Lactation consultants must die; they should literally drown in a vat of warm breast milk.  If they come uninvited into your room like a pack of grace hungry Jehovah Witnesses, simply wave around some garlic and crucifixes as if trying to ward off a vampire – they’re about the same sort of soulless monsters.  They grab at your boobs and nipples without permission like a football playing rapist.  They bring you machines and new ideas they want to try out.  “Try tickling the babies’ cheek.  Try tickling his foot.  Try cranking her elbow.  Try hanging him upside down and swatting at him with a bamboo shoot.  Nothing?  Hmm, maybe tomorrow….”  At one point a 200 year old woman who we dubbed Mother Earth entered the scene and tried explaining to us what we should be listening for; how we would know if the baby was eating vs. just suckling.  She says, “If the baby is eating, it will sound like this -” and she began to make suckle-suckle-gulp-gulp-suckle-suckle noises that sounded like someone trying out for the World’s Sloppiest Soup Eating competition.  “If the baby is merely suckling at your teet, it will sound like this -” now imagine an angry guinea pig trying to drink from his hanging bottle but the guinea pig has no teeth and the bottle is made from wet meat.  John, in classic John fashion, straight facedly asks, “Could I hear the first sound once again?  How did it go?”  Suckle-suckle-gulp-gulp-suckle-suckle.  I try not to laugh and John rests back in his chair, folding his arms.  He says, “I see”.

3.  THE NOOD*

Have you ever had that dream where you’re standing completely naked in front of a group of strangers?  They’re all poking you and prodding you and you feel sort of insecure but for some reason you can’t get out of their gaze?  Well, the fine folks at Kaiser Permenente can make that dream a reality.  You will be wheeled unceremoniously into a frigid cold room.  Your “clothes” (paper robe with twist tie) will be ripped off in one swift motion and you will be left standing there with nothing but your contact lenses to hide behind.  It’s not that bad if you come from a stripper background but for me, it was a little uncomfortable.  I’m so modest, you know, I wear chastity belts to my gyno appointments.  Anyway, prepare to run the gauntlet in your birthday suit.

*I know I didn’t spell that right (nude) but I really, really wanted it to look like the other two headings.

NOW, without further ado, allow me to take you on a visual journey of our trip into the ‘hood (parenthood).

Above, the view from our room; the top floor of a parking structure.  While this may seem trite, it’s certainly a better view than the room below us had; a brick wall.

Our anniversary is March, 26.  0326.  It’s not QUITE right but it’s still sort of cool.  Did anyone watch LOST?

This is where the doctor’s wash their hands before cutting people open and after making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

One last family photo while we’re still just an “us”.  The doctor’s asked “What are you having?” and we said, “We don’t know!”

And then there was Quinn!  I can’t even explain how amazing it was to hear the doctor call out that we had a little girl.  We had a girl……a sweet little footie pajama wearing girl of our very own.  The doctor’s asked, “What is her name?” and we said, “We don’t know!”  As you can tell by the giant cubist painting, Quinn is just as modest as I am.

This face is going to be my undoing EVERY TIME.

Quinn was followed quickly by our little man, Rory.  One look at him and I knew we had ourselves a little mini-John.

Getting to hold my babies’ for the very first time!  HEAVEN.  There were so many times in the last couple years that I feared this moment may never happen for me – such an incredible moment of God’s faithfulnes and blessings.

Later on in the recovery room Quinn and I had a discussion about the day’s events – clearly her face is saying she’s not so sure about this place.

We were disappointed to learn that they no longer do the standard hospital mugshot baby photos so we decided to do them ourselves.  Below are John and I’s circa the 80’s.  It’s crazy how much Rory looks like John!

And thus concludes our greatest journey right on the coattails of an even greater one.  Please be sure to come back for regular updates and adventures; thank you for playing and do come again.

John and Jade.

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37/38 weeks

Alright babies, listen up!  We’ve got you surrounded!  We have several doctors, nurses and other medical personnel out here with their appropriate utensils and tools, built for cutting, pulling and yanking.  This is your final warning.  You have exactly 24 hours to come out with your hands up or we will come in to get you.  I cannot sugar coat this anymore.  GET OUT.  GET OUT.  YOU ARE NOT WELCOME ANY LONGER.  Like a bad friend or rude family member, you have overstayed your welcome.  Now, please allow us to state that we are seriously impressed with your commitment to the uterus but it’s time to move on and go our separate ways.

Earlier this week we took you in for your final ultrasound with both Grandma-mas in tow.  They’re both from “Back When” so neither of them have ever seen an ultrasound performed before…I know it’s hard to believe, but when your grandparents were children, there was no such thing as electricity or cars and fire had just been invented so stoves weren’t even in the question.  Regardless, all four of us were, as always, exceptionally excited to see your contorted, fuzzy, black and white bodies twitching and punching in there like tiny little boxers having isolated seizures.

Guesstimated weight for you two chunky fatsos are now as follows; Baby A, hailing from the left side of the womb is weighing in at a hefty 6lbs 14 oz while Baby B, visiting us from the right side of the womb, stands in at a beefy 6 lbs 6 oz.  Both excellent!  Both solid little cinder blocks.  Sturdy individuals.

I can’t help but wonder if either of you will tip the scales towards the 7 pound mark by Thursday.  Probably.  When I asked John what he thought he reached out and shook my belly, speaking softly into it, asking, “Oh, Magic 8 Ball, will the babies bypass the 7 pound mark?”  He then stared at my belly button and simply said, “Ask again later”.

Very funny…

Actually, on Thursday (the day you will be unceremoniously ripped from my womb) we will be 38 weeks and 1 day pregnant.  Now, you’re probably not a science buff (yet) but that’s just over FULL TERM for a SINGLE BABY!  Never in a million years would I have dreamt that we’d make it this far.  There is no doubt in my mind that you two should be totally cooked and ready to hit the ground running (almost literally).  If you were noodles you’d be extremely soggy right about now.  Your dad likes to joke that you’ll probably be born with driver’s licenses and mustaches.  -)     (cyclops winky emoticon)

The dreaded PUPPPS has come back with a horrible vengeance in the last couple of days and I have been itching like nobody’s business.  It’s awful.  Seriously, I look like I went rolling nude through a patch of poison oak.  Thankfully, other than that little treat and my swollen hands and feet that look like stuffed party weiners, we’re actually doing pretty well.  You’re both moving like crazy and seem to like it when we “pet” you through the belly.  Mee-YOW.

Your dad and I were lying in bed last night talking about how crazy it is that you are FINALLY going to be here in just two more days!  That’s nuts!  We’re going to be parents of TWO children in just two days.  This completely blows my mind and I am honestly having a hard time trying to really soak in what that means.  I think it must be something that you can’t fully understand until you’re already knee deep in it.  The main thought that keeps rolling through my mind on constant loop is, “This time next week…..this time next week…..”

The entire pregnancy has been an incredible experience every step of the way (albeit, not always an exactly easy/pleasant one) and we both feel so blessed to be starting this new journey with you two.  I can’t wait to show you how incredible this place can be.  I promise that we will try our hardest to not screw you up beyond repair but I cannot make any guarantees.  Just brace yourself for good cooking (me) and bad jokes (dad) and you’ll be ready for just about anything!

See you in two days!  We’ll be the ones smiling stupidly and saying, “Whoa” on repeat.

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36 weeks

Ok, guys.  If you were waiting for an official invitation to come out……let me take this moment to officially invite you to come out.  Seriously.  I’m not kidding.  I’m beginning to think you’re worse than Clementine when she gets wind of an impending bath – battening down the hatches cause it’s going to take nothing but sheer force to drag you out of your hidey hole.  I promise you’ll like it once you get here.  Change is good!

Pregnancy naustalgia is falling to the wayside to be replaced by an end of pregnancy discomfort that I never imagined one could feel.  I think women friends conspire to leave out these little details because it’s too depressing for the impending mommy.  I literally have to pee about every half an hour and in the words of your dad, “Your hands and feet look like creme filled snausages.”  Sexy.  We have completed about 18 of the 29 ways to start labor tricks.  Honestly, I’m losing hope in this already.  You guys don’t seem to be affected in the least by all our shenanigans.  I even galloped around the house like an idiotic horse for about 10 minutes…………..ridiculous and shameful desperation.

Both of your Grandma’s are here now too.  They came in for the big show.  Starting to kind of feel like we’ve all gotten dressed up for prom and then got ditched by our dates around here.  But we’ve cheerfully added them to the Ultimate Humiliation contest while we wait.

Had another appointment with the doctor this week and had our c-section rescheduled to the 6th now so it’s potential that your birthday just got shifted a day later for the rest of your lives.  Still hope we don’t make it that far but at least that extra day skated us out of getting an amniocentisis done.  Big needle going into my belly = horrific.  Have I ever mentioned to you my paralyzing fear of needles?  Bad news for me is that she said you two are nowhere close to coming out.  You must really like it in there.

Did I mention we have tamales straight  from the cart out here………eh? Eh?

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