The photo booth doesn't lie...

Saturday night we attended a wedding and reception. We've known about this event for several months. I remember when we got the invitations, I thought WOW, I'll almost be there by then...I'll be 36 weeks. Who knows if I'll even be able to attend...maybe she'll come early.

In past blogs, I talked about what I initially bought for the wedding that I could wear versus what I wanted to find to wear for the wedding...and did I mention? I finally did find that perfect maxi flowy dress that would fit over my very large belly? I found it on a random trip to the mall...when Ajay and I wanted to escape the heat wave a few weeks ago, we decided to head where Orange County heads when they want to shop...South Coast Plaza.

Anyway, at South Coast, there's a Barney's Coop, and that's where I found the perfect strapless, floor length black silk dress. It's fitted at the bust....in my case, very very fitted at the bust, and then just flows and flows for days all the way to the floor. I even had to buy some new shoes to make myself tall enough so as not to trip on the dress...here they are...in case you're curious...


Fun right?

And even more fun? At the wedding, the bride and groom had this ingenious idea of hiring a photo booth for the night, and everybody was supposed to have their photos taken, and then on the spot, you add them to their photo album with some special words for the bride and groom. I loved the idea!

After a night of receiving all sorts of compliments on my lovely dress and hearing just how great I was looking for beginning my 9th month of pregnancy, we got in line for the photo booth. We got in the photo booth. We took pictures in the photo booth. And what did I see to my horror and dismay?

The photo booth that I loved so dearly had not done me any favors....at all. After getting my nails and toes done and hair cut and my eyebrows done and I even gave myself a mud mask before the event (which is about five more services than I did for my own wedding!)...after all that effort, the camera doesn't lie...I look like I could eat Ajay. I mean, seriously, look at the size of that beefy arm! And those boobs that I tried so hard to make perky with the single largest strapless push up bra I've ever seen! And those pudgy fingers!!! I think I actually outgrew my wedding ring before the camera in the booth! I mean, seriously, are those dimples I see on the back of my hands? As in the kind you see on baby fatted infant hands?

Sure, my husband is the single sweetest and most suportive guy ever...he has reminded me on countless occasions throughout my pregnancy that this is what happens when you make your body support an entirely separate human being...and I get that. I certainly wouldn't want to be the anorexic friend of a friend who proudly told us all that she only gained 12 pounds during her pregnancy, and delivered a 5 pound baby, and by the time she got home from the hospital she only had 3 more pounds to go. Don't get me wrong...I don't want to be that girl. It's just that I must have been looking in our magical slimming mirror when getting ready for the wedding because these photos captured a version of me that I hadn't seen before!

My tattoo

Friday night we went to dinner at a restaurant in a counter-culture outdoor mall. It's one of our favorite places to eat.

Looking around, we noticed that every single "young person" was tattooed and/or facially pierced. Ajay and I discussed the fact that our generation missed out on the tattoo trend by a few short years....while some of my friends are tattooed, it's more of the peace-sign-on-the-ankle variety rather than full sleaves, fully colored Starry Night by Van Gogh.

Anyway, we talked on about the prominance tattoo placement...in my 20-something years, tattoos were placed in a location where they could be covered up without much effort...the tattoos of choice would be on your ankle, butt or back of your shoulder, which was more daring because what if you wanted to wear a strapless dress in your friend's wedding? What then? How do you prude it up and hide your bad-girl ways?

Given the prominance of modern day tattoo placement, wouldn't you have to make damn sure that your tattoo said something about who you are, boiled down to the core element of your being? Wouldn't you need to do a decade of transendental meditation to figure out just what this element would be that so clearly defines you? And with that said, do you really have that much time under your belt by your 20-something years to really know what you are at your core? Or is that just me in my 30-something mind over-thinking it and over emphasizing the permanence of the life defining tattoo? Perhaps this is the exact reason I never got a tattoo...well, that, and I don't feel that committed to any particular reproducable, tattooable image that I've come across in this lifetime.

So Ajay and I talked and laughed and continued to explore this topic for quite some time, and finally we got on the topic of "if you had to choose an image to tattoo on your forearm, what would the image be that best defines your essense, love, your reason for being?"


My response?


"...............I dunno...................cake?"

36 week ultrasound

Yesterday's ultrasound was good. Although Alia was feeling shy and covering her little face with her hand making a profile shot impossible, they were able to see what they needed to see to deem her healthy and of average size...currently she weights about 6.5 pounds, and they project she'll weigh about 7.5 pounds by the time she's born.

Huh?

I thought for sure she weighed at least 14 pounds by the feel of my aching pelvis. I thought she may weigh...I don't know...maybe 16 pounds at birth!

Now a thought about the ultrasound itself...the regular ultrasound tech wasn't there yesterday, so we got the backup girl. I've been with her once before, right after we lost one of the babies...who knows, maybe I have a negative association with this tech because of that. And it's not like she's ever done anything wrong. But there are a couple of things that bother me about this tech, from trivial to well, clinical.

On the trivial side, do you know anyone who gets Botox treatments? Have you ever noticed that there face is not only paralyzed, but in a constant state of dewy perspiration? Well, this tech has "the glow", and a frozen face, and although she seems to have gone through the Botox training where they tell you you may have to try harder to smile and express emotion in your newly paralyzed face, this tech's face is in a constant state of a frozen half smile. And her eyebrows and entire forehead don't move at all...so it seems like she's a vacant pod person gazing at you with an emptiness in her soul, and it kind of freaks me out.

Secondly, on the more clinical side, let me just preface this by saying that I get the state that health care is in...I worked in the medical arena for my entire career, and Ajay is an anesthesiologist so I know all too well just how overworked everyone is, and how patients just cannot receive the level of care that they received before managed care and big insurance companies took over the world. I get that. But this substitute technician has been almost completely quiet throughout both of the scans that I've had with her. My regular technician starts out by pointing out "head, feet, eyes. Here's the heart...it's got a nice rhythmic beat of XXX beats per minute...." My point is it doesn't take much to make the ultrasound a much more gratifying and informative experience for us. A little communication wouldn't kill her...but that leads me back to her entirely paralyzed face...maybe she just....can't....talk...

Changing gears....let's focus on the positive, shall we? A good part of the ultrasound was being able to see how Alia's positioned in there so now I can make sense of the movements I'm feeling. Now I know her head is down, her spine is running midline, she is facing to my right, and all those taps under my ribs are in fact little kicks with her little feet. When I feel a hardness beneath my belly button, it's most likely a shoulder. And when I feel like she's doing a full body stretch all at once...well, that's her telling us it's time for some more space.

Speaking of space, this week she torpedoed forward. My belly seems to have projected directly forward by a couple of inches over night. If I want to get a laugh out of Ajay I just turn to the side and lift my shirt...it's amazing just how much she's grown in the last weeks.

Final ultrasound?

Today I have my final ultrasound of this pregnancy. It's the one they do to take some measurements and project the birth size and weight. I've been looking forward to this ultrasound for weeks...it's been a really long time since I've been able to see Alia.

I suppose this being the final ultrasound feels a little, well, final. My pregnancy has been a long one, (of course, not any longer than any other human pregnancy), full of ups and downs. And filled with a lot of fear.

When I learned that IVF worked and that I was in fact pregnant, it was no surprise. In the 12 days I had to wait between the procedure and the pregnancy test, I developed major pregnancy symptoms...I retained water like crazy, my breasts seemed to grow a size over night, and I just had that feeling that I was pregnant. And knowing that we implanted four fertilized embryos in hopes of getting twins, I actually had a feeling that there may be multiples in there growing away because the physical symptoms were so strong.

I remember my fertility doc telling me after the first ultrasound that she saw twins growing, and not to get too attached to the idea until after the first trimester. So I spent the first 12 weeks being somewhat reserved about not only having a baby, but I tried to keep a lid on my happiness about being fortunate enough to have two babies at once. At my 12 week scan, I found out there was one boy and one girl. Oh my gosh...that was such a happy day...I was so excited to find out we'd have one of each, and my happiness was probably compounded because I made it to the "magical" 12 week mark, meaning from that point on, the odds for survival for the babies grew exponentially.

By this time in the pregnancy, I was having lots of pregnancy related illnesses...I had a pretty tough time. I threw up every day for quite awhile. Sometimes the nausea was accompanied by migraines. The doctor told me this happened more with twin pregnancies because the babies produced a lot of progesterone...she advised drinking lots of water to flush out the excess, but it didn't seem to help the headaches...and Advil was off limits. So we had to wait it out. During all this, I still felt fundamentally fortunate. So I was sick every day...I'm sure I'm not the only one, I kept telling myself...and after all...I'm having two babies!!! What do I expect! I also felt really fortunate to not have to work at this point. In my career I had seen lots of female colleagues struggle through the early stages of pregnancy and morning sickness, and I felt really fortunate to not have to struggle like they did.

At my 20 week anatomy scan, we found out that we had lost our little boy. That day is still the saddest day of my life, and can bring tears to my eyes instantly...all my mind has to hear is the thought "20 weeks" and it goes right back there. I remember being so sick with a terrible cold, but so happy to have Ajay there for the scan. I remember as the stenographer came into the room and greeted us, I told her I couldn't wait to see them, and I hoped they were awake and feeling playful. And she put the probe to my tummy...and told us she had bad news. Just that memory alone makes my heart sink.

I spent the next few weeks coming to terms with how things changed so quickly. I wrote about my loss, read about other people who lost their babies late in the pregnancy. I tried my best to come to terms with the new picture in my head. Although I had done my best to take it slow with my hope, I had finally felt safe with my twin pregnancy, and now it wasn't going to happen the way my mind had come to see it. There was also a feeling of being gypped...I felt like I had endured all the sickness associated with twin pregnancy and wouldn't get the reward at the end. I removed myself from online expectant twin Mom forums, told a few of the expectant twin Moms I had come into contact with who had similar due dates what had happened, and that I wouldn't be able to keep up with them and wished them luck. It was all just too painful. That was a really dark time trying to come to terms with how quickly everything had changed.

I can also attest to the resilience of human beings after this experience. Slowly, our minds turn the corner...slowly we come to terms. Slowly we begin to see the happiness that the new alternative offers. We see the benefits of what we now have versus what we thought we had. So since we lost our little guy, I've felt my mind shift. And don't get me wrong...it was not easy. In this transitional period, there were days I didn't get out of bed. And as time went on and I began to cope, there were still things that were just to painful for me to deal with...like not being able to see baby boy clothes at the baby store. But all in all, I began to recognize how fortunate I still was. In reading about other Mom's who had lost babies at 4 months, 5 months and all the way up to full term, I realized I had something they didn't have...I still had a healthy little girl growing away. My OB also pointed out that she'd be a safer pregnancy moving forward because she didn't have to compete for space or nutrients. And let's not forget that two babies are double the size and weight of one baby, so my pregnancy became a whole lot more comfortable during the months that followed.

So, as I said before, today is the last time I'll be seeing our little girl while she's still on the inside. This gives me a feeling of finality, and even closure to some extent. We're all done with ultrasounds now. We made it through 8+ months. We just might be parents after all! And yes, I'm still fearful, if you couldn't tell by the last remark...I still am afraid to count my little chicken before she hatches. I don't know how to love her less or keep my excitement to meet her in check at this point...my arms already feel the need to hold her. But after 3 years in the making, we're further along in the process as we've ever been, and for that I'm grateful and optimistic.

More nesting...and more nesting

I've been feeling the nesting genes kicking in lately. From finishing the nursery for Alia's arrival to clearing out my own closet of all the things I will never wear again, to preparing the house for the arrival of my family members that will be visiting after Alia's born...the house is in a fairly constant state of being cleaned and fluffed. Spare bathrooms have been challenged into coughing up space for our visitors' cosmetics and other things. Space has been created in shelving that formerly held stuff that I didn't know what to do with (and now I know...it should have gone in the garbage a loooong time ago) so guests have a place to keep their stuff. Spots have been cleaned off furniture. The outdoor furniture has been moved from the garage's winter storage to the patio where it belongs...allowing me to park my car where it belongs once again.

Yesterday I worked on the outside windows on the back of the house...I know, it doesn't sound like much, but we have...let's see...two single french doors and two sets of double french doors that are all ten feet high, as well as four windows, just on one side of the back of the house. So getting the cleaning stuff, the step stool, the paper towels, and then more paper towels, the broom to knock off spider webs, the scrubby sponge to clean the hard to dislodge baked-on bird poop, as well as a bucket of soapy water to use with the scrubby sponge on the baked-on bird poop....well, you get the picture, was no small task. What started as a little "that spot needs to be cleaned" turned into an obsessive compulsive Rain Man like effort to rid my home of all things nasty.

Today I sit here typing in the office/library, admiring yesterday's hard work of cleaning the french doors...only...what's that? Could it be possible that the little spot that began yesterday's obsession is actually on the inside?

Attention Deficit or Just Tidy?

This morning I decided to tackle a small project that I've been putting off since last November...

I've been saving all my ultrasound printouts since my very first one at the fertility doctor's office. While I was under the care of my fertility doctor, I got an ultrasound every week to check on how the little Hatchlings were doing... which means that for the first 12 weeks I had weekly printouts...several per week. Then, when I "graduated" from her care, I continued to get ultrasounds quite often at my regular OB/GYN, particularly after I lost one of the babies...I was so nervous that I went in every week just to make sure things were okay with our little girl.

Flash forward 8 months, and here we are...I had begun to put the printouts in a photo album but that only lasted about the first couple of weeks. After the first few weeks, I decided rather than taking all the extra time to put the photo inside the clear protective sleave, it would be better to just cram the printouts in the book in no particular order.

So today I picked up where I left off eight months ago, and finished the ultrasound photo album. And just so we're clear...no, I didn't "scrapbook" all the photos, using creative stamps and cut out shapes and thought bubbles...no, no, no...you see, the goal was to actually start and finish the little project, and inserting any creative brainpower and extra work would have for certain thwarted my effort and become quickly overwhelming. And no, I don't have a thing against all you scrap bookers out there...I just don't have what it takes to ever complete a single album. Today's goal was to just get those photo printouts in chronological order, label which baby was photographed (in the first 20 weeks, I had twin ultrasounds), and put them under the clear plastic protector in the little photo book. And I accomplished my goal.

What has happened in the past when I've tried to create a scrapbook as described above is I buy a scrapbook, bring it home. Then I go to a scrapbook store and spend about $150 on all sorts of colored paper, stickers, special paper cutters, patterned cutters, paper texturizers, and other accessories and bring them home. I put them on top of the scrapbook and go watch TV or sit at my computer and check email. Then a week later, I pick up the scrapbook and the $150 worth of scrap booking stuff and put it on the kitchen table. I get out the pictures that I'm going to work on on put them next to the scrapbook stuff. Then I decide to clean the kitchen instead...because I can't stand to do a project if my surroundings are messy.

Then from the kitchen cleaning, I decide I could throw in a load of laundry before I start working. And after the laundry is in, I decide the kitchen now looks really nice, but the family room adjoining the dining room needs some attention, so I work on that. By then the laundry can go in the dryer. From the laundry room, I return to the kitchen table and realize that the kitchen would look a lot better if I put all this scrapbook making stuff away. So I collect it all, place it in a plastic bin, and put it in the closet.

And that's how I roll.

And just when I was bragging

Yep, only yesterday I was blogging away about how I sleep like the dead most nights. So of course, last night I woke up at 2:30 and my mind and body were AWAKE!!! Like with bright eyes and bushy tails!

2:30 a.m....might as well get up and pee...

3:30 a.m....guess I can pee again since I'm still up...

4:30 a.m....get up and have a glass of milk...maybe that will help...

5:30 a.m....finally fall asleep again...

6:30 a.m....gotta pee again...

I suppose this is just nature's way of preparing me for what's to come in less than a month from now!

35 week development

Here's what the experts at Babycenter.com have to say about how Alia's doing this week...

How your baby's growing
Your baby doesn't have much room to maneuver now that he's over 18 inches long and tips the scales at 5 1/4 pounds (pick up a honeydew melon). Because it's so snug in your womb, he isn't likely to be doing somersaults anymore, but the number of times he kicks should remain about the same. His kidneys are fully developed now, and his liver can process some waste products. Most of his basic physical development is now complete — he'll spend the next few weeks putting on weight.

How your life's changing
Your uterus — which was entirely tucked away inside your pelvis when you conceived — now reaches up under your rib cage. If you could peek inside your womb, you'd see that there's more baby than amniotic fluid in there now. Your ballooning uterus is crowding your other internal organs, too, which is why you probably have to urinate more often and may be dealing with heartburn and other gastrointestinal distress. If you're not grappling with these annoyances, you're one of the lucky few.

Miss Manners Nightmare or Just Plain Practical?

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the baby shower that the ladies at Ajay's work threw for us. I received an enormous amount of the most thoughtful gifts...lots and lots of clothes, as well as toys, blankets, and whatever else you can think of that a new baby might need or want. Here's a shot of the loot that I came home with that day......and this photo doesn't include the little red wagon we received packed full of everything a little girl could ever need for a day at the beach!



I also have several girlfriends who had babies somewhere around two years ago...and let's just say that these little girls are very well dressed little cuties. So the last time I got together with the girls, I came home with a whole bag of baby girl clothes....



We're talking overalls, onesies, little dresses with matching little ruffled bottoms...tons of cute little things that look like they've never been worn. When I was telling my friend Tamra about all these great hand-me-downs I received from our mutual friend, she said the clothes look unworn because they weren't ever worn...and the reason why is that for most baby showers, people love to buy the itty bitty sized stuff, and you end up with too much of the smallest size. After reflecting about the motherload of things I received at my shower, I had to agree. I had enough stuff to warrant changing Alia three times a day for the first three months. And that's where my friend let me in on her little secret...

She said before her baby was born, she gathered up all the 0-3 month stuff that she received as a gift (that came with a gift receipt) and carte blanche exchanged it for 12-18 month sized stuff---the same exact clothing item, only a year later in size. She said that way she stretched out the usefulness of all the thoughtful gifts she received, and nothing went to waste. (However, Tamra also said when she let her sister in on this strategy, her sister was less than impressed and told her it was rude to return or exchange the gifts.) To me, though, it made sense...all the teeny tiny little summer clothe styles that I received for Alia will work just as great next summer, when she's wearing the larger sizes.

I don't know what Miss Manners would say, but for this girl, I'd much rather get good use out of these generous gifts than let them go to waste (or rub Alia's poor baby skin raw by countless outfit changes per day in an attempt to use them all.)

So today, that's how I spent my day...I gathered up many of the things that people were kind enough to give me and thoughtful enough to include a gift receipt with and exchanged them for the exact same outfit, only bigger.

So for any of you out there who are not afraid to offend the Miss Manners of the world, there's my secret...I exchanged some clothes for bigger sizes. Because for me, I'd much rather think that a gift I've given gets used regardless of the receiver exchanging it for a different size.

Nocturnal Habits of the Ready-to-Pop

Everyone, mainly strangers on the street, strangers in the grocery store, tells me "get your rest now" when they see the very large, voluminous belly that now pokes out beneath even my maternity tops. But most of my girlfriends who have kids say "yeah, you're at that uncomfortable part where sleep is impossible...I didn't sleep for the last two months!"

But here's the thing...aside from the waking up several times per night to pee, (which has been happening since my third month of pregnancy) and the ensuing insomnia that occurs on occasion after my potty break, I've been sleeping like the dead. And for long amounts of time....I'm in bed by 9:30 (or 10 on a wild and crazy night) and get up around 8:00 in the a.m. And before pregnancy? I was up before 6 every day.

Back when I was pregnant with twins, I remember reading that the little baby parasites really take it out of your body and you need at least an extra hour or two of sleep per night. Apparently my body took this to heart, because since reading that, I've been sleeping like there's no tomorrow...

And dreams? Some mornings I'm astounded and even embarrassed by the colorfulness of my imagination on these new hormones. Last night, for example, in my dream Ajay was out of town, and I somehow got involved with a group of people who were up to no good....including Formula One racer David Coulthard and Victoria Bechkam. Oh, and we all lived in Bloomington, Indiana, which is where I went to college. And David Coulthard was driving a 1980's Trans Am or Camaro and was involved in some sort of plot involving Victoria Beckham...I never found out what they were up to but it seemed that they were ripping some one off...a heist if you will. And they were using my house (which was really not my house...it was a condo I was considering buying that my realtor currently owned and resided in...only she was out of town for the weekend....because that makes sense, right?). And in this condo, the master bedroom contained a bathroom so big that it could have been a gym locker room...it even had a steam shower big enough for 30 people to sit in. And then, all sorts of people were coming out of the woodwork to crash there, including my Dad, my brother, and friends from high school and college. They would knock, bring in duffle bags, inflated rafts for the community pool, ice chests (because Hoosiers are an ice chest loving people), and enough clothing for a week or so. And there were all sorts of things going on around me...and I was clueless about everything. It was as if people were coming in and taking over my home...and I had no control...and there were bags everywhere...and I didn't agree with a lot of what was going on...people coming and going all night long, police showing up to tell me that the neighbors were complaining about the noise...it was a disaster.

Ummm, I just read my last blog...and maybe this dream isn't so crazy.