At least that’s what they all say. And I believe them. So I figured I’d better at least try to write some stuff down to look back on.
I’ve been avoiding this space a little bit because gosh, once you start, where do you stop? I have so many stories but so little time or energy. I just put one twin down and left the other happily on her mat…except now I hear her hollering after penning a brief few sentences and so sometimes I wonder what the point is in trying to accomplish anything?
Ok. I’m back. Just changed the diaper of the twin downstairs and spent 10 minutes trying to rock her to sleep except the upstairs twin woke up and was screaming so I came up here to the upstairs twin who had pooped so I put the downstairs twin down, changed the upstairs twin and tried to rock her back to sleep only then Ivy woke up so I put that twin down, rocked Ivy for awhile until the upstairs twin started screaming again, put a crying Ivy down and patted the twin back to sleep and here I am.
Confused yet? I’m never sure if I’m coming or going. Welcome to the three ring circus.
But let’s rewind to September which I think I can safely categorize as the most miserable month of my life. It was my fourth pregnancy in five years and it was two babies. My body was greatly protesting. Didn’t sleep much at night and oh what an effort to move. I pretty much spent the last three weeks slowly moving from my bed to the couch. I’d watch the kids play and be grateful they were doing so well together and depressed that I had no part in it.
I kept reminding myself that my condition was not chronic and the end was in sight. And I was so incredibly grateful that my body was cooperating and I was able to stay at home with my kids. Really, it was miraculous and a pretty stress free pregnancy until the last three days.
So that’s a good stopping point. heh. Catch you next time. Children are screaming.
37 weeks. Walking around the parking lot of my doctors office trying to lower my blood pressure. So much fun.