Crazy

Just as expected, these last weeks of pregnancy have not exactly been easy. In fact, to put it politely, I’m pretty @#$%^& miserable...and just a pleasure to be around. I do attempt to mask my misery behind a polite smile while I’m at work, but by 5:30 I’m pretty much done. This means my husband never sees that polite smile. Instead he sees the whiney, cranky, and downright crazy version of his wife. It should come as no surprise that Roger “handles” me like a champ – listening to me and nodding with sympathy and only occasionally attempting to liken my aches and pains to something he is experiencing (I mean, really? Do you want to go there?). He actually seems to have adapted to my craziness quite well – knowing when to indulge it and when to put his foot down and stop the madness.

And I’m afraid it is full on madness. Some of it is pretty normal though, I think – the books call it “nesting,” this obsessive need to have everything clean. Now, I’m a pretty tidy person (my college roommates might beg to differ, but I’ve grown up a bit since then), but I’ve never been too terribly concerned about dirt and germs. I live with two dogs for God’s sake! What would be the point? And yet, here I am – 9 months pregnant attempting to scrub floors and wash windows and organize everything from the condiments in the pantry to the tools in the garage.

Roger has only so much patience for my obsessiveness, and I can hardly blame him. I think he feels bad to find me sweeping the garage in 100 degree heat but he has a hard time offering to take over when he doesn’t understand what a clean garage floor has to do with taking care of our babies. “Robyn, I wasn’t aware we were going to let the girls crawl around out here,” he says with a straight face. I kind of want to punch him in the nose. But before I begin my attempt to justify my admittedly absurd actions, he takes the broom out of my hands and sends me inside.

There are other signs of craziness too. For example, what woman, 9 months pregnant with twins, decides that now would be a good time to install a full length mirror in her bedroom? For the past seven months, I’ve been fixing my hair and putting on makeup in the small medicine cabinet mirror that came with our house. The most complete glimpse I’ve seen of my pregnant self has been in the mirror in the bathroom at work – and even that’s just waist (or what used to be my waist) up and fully clothed! So you can imagine my horror the first time I stepped out of the shower and into the cruel judgment of that full length mirror. A normal person would have thrown something at it to make the terrifying reflection go away but the masochist in me continues to torture myself.

I’ve been told this particular brand of madness - the nesting anyway - will subside a bit when I give birth, but it’s likely that a different kind of craziness will take over. Great. But at least pretty soon I’ll be way too busy keeping two humans alive to notice the dirt in the garage or obsess about the misshapen girl in the mirror.

Confessions from a Pregnancy

First of all, I feel truly blessed to be experiencing the completely crazy phenomenon that is pregnancy. But that doesn't mean I'm loving every minute of it. In fact, I have become immediately suspicious of any woman who claims she "loved being pregnant." I think she's either a liar or she just doesn't remember it all that well.

I know pregnancy is different for every woman, and when I compare my own experience to those of others I'm consistently reminded that it could be worse. (Apparently, it could also be better. I've heard rumors that morning sickness usually subsides after the third month...that would've been really nice. Sigh.) It's funny though, that the things I feared most about pregnancy - the expanding belly, the weight gain, the absence of wine - aren't really the worst parts at all. Now, don't worry. This isn't where I share all of the horrifying details about being pregnant. I didn't randomly return from the blogger graveyard this evening with the intention of starting a big whine fest; however, I do feel the need to confess that being pregnant is not my favorite thing.

However, there are a few good things about being pregnant, and in this last month I'm going to have to really focus on them to keep myself from spiraling into a pit of over dramatic self pity. So here goes...my list of the cool things about being pregnant.

1. Feeling them move - It just never gets old. I know it's a little weird that I constantly have a hand on my belly, but I can't stop myself. And watching the movement through my skin is even better. It's simultaneously the creepiest and coolest thing I've ever experienced.

2. The smiling - People are extremely friendly to pregnant people. Strangers smile at me and ask how I am...and I kind of love it. Of course, I fear I'm rapidly approaching the point where the smiles are mere attempts at masking the initial looks of horror that say "Good God! That woman looks like a baby might burst out of her at any moment...should I call 911?"

3. The eating - Let's face it; I'm a girl who likes to eat, and being pregnant has provided me with the perfect excuse (not that I've ever really needed one!). It hasn't been a total ice cream free for all - I've had to fit in a ridiculous amount of protein and lots of fruits and veggies too - but it's still been pretty cool.

4. My husband - From the moment I realized I was pregnant, Roger has said and done everything right. (Well, almost. I've only had to threaten him with bodily harm once or twice!). He's been the perfect mix of sympathy and encouragement. In true Roger form, every anxiety I express he manages to prove unneccessary. Even when we found out that his office would be closing shortly after the babies arrived, while I panicked, he assured me he would "make a plan" as he focused on the job hunt. And sure enough, his "plan" worked out and he's now happily employed with a new company. And whenever I start freaking out about any of the gazillion things there are to freak out about raising kids in this cruel, crazy world, Roger's mere presence reminds me that good things happen every day and despite all the bad stuff, this world can be pretty amazing too.

5. The whole miracle thing - When all else fails, I think about how completely incredible it is to be hosting two tiny lives inside my body. As physically challenging as the last eight months have been (and I fear the worst is still to come!), to be so instrumental in this kind of true miracle is both a privilege and a gift.

That's all I got for now. But hopefully it will be enough to get me through the coming weeks....I have a feeling it ain't gonna be pretty!

Here I am - big belly and all. I'm practicing with my friend's new baby, Owen. Good thing my hair hides the look of terror on my face!