Sweet and sour

We went to the doctor's office yesterday, as a follow-up visit to our hospital stay. Cervical length was the same as last week, which is still too short but good that it's stable for now. The babies are growing a lot. The doctor was delightfully surprised by how big they are for twins. They are in the 50th and 75th percentile for singletons, which means that for twins they top the charts. Baby A (on the bottom) is 2 lbs. 15 oz, and baby B is 3 lbs. 5 oz. I gained a couple pounds, but nothing significant... hard to believe in light of recent belly growth (see photo below). Both babies are still active. This new medicine seems to make them hyper. A's activity has really picked up. Last night I was lying against SP, and he could feel A kicking and moving against his leg, a first since A is so low and usually impossible to feel from the outside. Another time, SP had his hand on my upper belly, and B kicked so hard that it moved his hand! Next Friday I have another appointment. They will check cervical length, do another fFN test, and I will have to do the 3-hour gestational diabetes test. Why? Because I failed the 1-hour test by ONE FRICKIN' POINT! Luckily they have an unused exam room I can lie down in while I'm there.

SP and I are doing okay here at home. We're trying to adjust to the new life that we are forced to have. SP has been clearing the bedroom of clutter, trying to make it nicer for me since this is where I spend most of my time. We have been trying to figure out how to make this situation work once he goes back to work on Monday. The key will be keeping all of my activities and food and drink easily accessible, since I'm not supposed to get up much. It's not the end of the world if I have to go out to the kitchen to refill a water bottle, but too many of those little trips are frowned upon so they are to be avoided. You are not supposed to get up on a whim. If you want to read a book that you forgot to ask your husband to put by your bed before he left for work, for example, it's not okay to get up and get the book. Too bad for you.

Anyway, boredom is boredom, not such a big deal. There are things that bother me more. One is that I am a control freak who doesn't like when people come to my house and look through my cabinets and refrigerator and other things to find stuff that they can cook with or get for me. Why? Because I don't think we are neat and clean enough, and these insecurities are now plaguing me because I can't be in control when people come over. Yes, I know it is stupid and petty, but it is what it is. I can't change overnight. My in-laws are coming tomorrow to throw us a little shower since we are missing the real one they were going to have for us out of town, and it's just KILLING me that they're going to be going through my kitchen and I'm just going to have to sit here like a helpless lump.

The other thing that bothers me a lot about this situation is that my sense of self as an active, productive, contributing, INDEPENDENT person is quickly crumbling. If I can't teach, if I can't cook dinner, if I can't pick my clothes up off the floor and put them in the laundry bag, even, what good am I? And it goes far beyond that. I can't easily get dressed by myself anymore, can't take a shower when SP is not home, may not walk across the apartment to get myself something unnecessary. The basics are gone. And SP is even in charge of sticking me with a needle every few days and changing my medicine pump. I think about how it would be if I had a permanent disability. I know I would be very hard to live with. But I'm hoping I would become used to it and become more positive, gracious, and proactive about doing something about things that frustrated me. For now, I think the sudden change and the significant side effects of the medicine have left my head spinning, and I don't quite know what to think or how to cope.

But the big picture is very clear to me right now. I will do what I have to to keep the babies in me as long as possible. Admittedly, I can't promise to deal with all this with grace and virtue. I think a lot of the anxiety and disorientation I feel right now is really a result of an overall, ever-present worry about the babies. When will they come out? Will they be okay? This is the scariest thing to not have control over. The other things are things I would like to have control over in lieu of this big thing. And I just don't. There's little to latch onto right now. This is where faith comes in, something that I have a love-hate relationship with. As the old church song, turned 1970's country western hit goes, "One day at a time, sweet Jesus." One day at a time, indeed.