^ two half dozen roses, one from each baby, as my Valentine's day gift. Oh, and my husband got me a bag of Doritos too. Three perfect gifts that I won't put in order of importance
happy day after Valentine's! I'm writing this from my bed where I'm grabbing mystery chocolates from a heart shaped box and just hoping for the best (the ones with the cherry in the middle? gross. So so gross) it's been a long couple of weeks of growing humans and so far all I can say is- I'm not sure how the population is so high. I don't think I could do this a second time. Granted, I've been reassured by several moms that have had single pregnancies and have also carried twins and pretty much all of them agree that twins are just ... harder. I hate to sound like an even whiner victim, but I'm trying to tell myself that every time I feel myself starting to lose it or think there's something wrong with me. I posted a photo on my Instagram account recently acknowledging how hard this has been so far and the out pour of love from so many mamas from all over was overwhelmingly beautiful. It makes me feel less alone (and crazy) when other women are telling me that this is all normal. And yes, we are lucky. yes, this is a blessing. yes, this is beautiful. But fuck, I am allowed to tell the world how uncomfortable I am and let everyone out there know that pregnancy is not just sunshine, rainbows, and cute monthly bump photos. It's hard. And I love all of you for letting me scream that from the rooftops freely.
Our babies are growing like crazy and it's soooo cool to read my pregnancy app every morning and see what's going on in there and what's on their agenda. I call my midwives way more often than I care to admit and ask the most lame questions that I need answered immediately: can I eat blue cheese crumbles? Can I sit in a hot bathtub? Can I take a men's multivitamin if I run out of my prenatals? Can my kids sense when I'm masturbating? (the answers in order: yes, yes, yes, LOL no) and luckily, they are all angels with senses of humor and seem to deal with crazy people like me on the regular. But god aren't women just such bad asses?! I can't believe our bodies can do this! and t's no wonder I'm exhausted all the time. "Sorry I didn't get around to doing the laundry today, I'm growing eyeballs and toes for two people growing inside of me." has become my new go to joke and luckily, I live with a saint. Andrew has kept the house clean, fridge full, laundry done, rubs my legs, let's me cry all the time, sleeps on the couch, and runs every errand under the sun so that I can focus only on relaxing and staying alive over here. We're almost out of the "hard part" and I'm already seeing a bump growing, my skin looking better, and my mood is slowly improving.
We went to dinner last night to celebrate our last Valentine's day where we can avoid a wait and sit at a bar. We held hands and kissed and enjoyed the date that has been our first in a while. But about forty minutes later, I was ready for the check and to get my ass back home. just writing this out has exhasusted me so it's time for my 3rd bowl of cinnamon toast crunch for the day and yet another nap.
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