Careful Observation

The time stamp on this post is 5:43am. I've been up for a little over an hour. I really don't do either side of 5am all that well, but I'm getting tired of watching the sun rise.

Here's the disclaimer on this post. It'll most likely be graphic and somewhat grouchy. it's 5am and I'm tired of "watching" things.

#1. Watching my feet and ankles swell and deflate. Tired of that. Also tired of none of my shoes fitting and feeling a bit cliched as I shuffle, (not walk... can't actually walk) barefoot, around my house with what feels like water filled socks on.

#2. Watching the clock to count my contractions and try to discern what is an actual contraction vs. baby movement vs. just plain old uterine grouchiness. Basically the entire area of my torso is a battlefield right now.

I feel this bizarre need to quantify both of these rather irritating phenomenon. Perhaps it's a way of distancing myself from the atrocity of becoming a fluid filled sack of muscle spasms. I had a very similar (and equally disturbing to onlookers) reaction to my two most painful quasi-surgical experiences. And since it's still not 6am, I am going to subject you to both of them.

#1. After a lovely church led outing to a local "action" filled amusement "park", I sustained 2nd and 3rd degree abrasion burns to my right leg, left arm and face as well as two torn ligaments in my right ankle. I was 13. They poured liquid bandaid on the burns without cleaning them and sent me home with the advice of "take a bath" when I got there. The next morning, my mother took me to the doctor where they poured hydrogen peroxide on the wounds and used a surgical scrub brush to clear out the gravel and debris. I watched the whole thing and repeatedly pointed out spots that they had missed and should go back over with bubbly foamy peroxide and a plastic scrub brush. The nurses were a little afraid of me.

#2. In college I drove the world's coolest and possibly filthiest Ford Thunderbird, affectionately known as BOB, the luxury vehicle (as he had power window AND door locks). The excessive amount of driving that I did in this car I'm sure led to a very large and very grotesque Pilonidal Cyst. Check that link out. Isn't that disgusting? By the time I got around to having it checked out (the first time) it was roughly the size of a grapefruit. Again in the doctor's office, I had that bad boy lanced while I bit on a washcloth. No, I'm not kidding and no, this did not take place in the old west. They packed the wound with gauze and sent me home to soak in an epsom salt bath and remove the packing. My mom came in the bathroom with me to help get the gauze out of my ass. She was trying to do it slowly so that it would hurt less. I grabbed the side of the tub with one hand and the gauze strip with the other. That bathtub still has fingerprints in the porcelain.

When it happened again a few months later, I went to the emergency room, laid down on a gurney and had an intern stick a needle roughly the gauge of a bendy straw into the same spot to drain off more fluid. This time I had no washcloth. I do, however, have a lovely scar along the base of my spine. In case I'm every horribly disfigured in an accident, but my ass survives the fire.

What's the point? Other than grossing everyone out? I guess it's that I'm not that big a baby. But this shit is killing me. I can't walk. I can't sleep. I can't sit comfortably. I can't even lay down. My feet constantly swell and deflate, but never to the size or shape of actual feet. Plus I have this truly fantastic, low lying pressure as if someone were repeatedly head-butting my cervix. Which kicks off the charming cascade of irregular contractions, trip to hospital, shot of terbutaline, shakes and heart palps, ending nicely in coma.

So if you don't hear from me for a day or two, that's where I am. Either in the hospital or in a coma. don't worry, I already woke up H and asked him to work from home today. He responded by asking me if he needed to put pants on now and then rolled over and turned off the alarm.

Protein Shakes

Protein shake is not a food. It a food supplement. Does anyone else want to call brother Ed and tell him this? I have spent the last few days trying to convince him that he needs to actually consume and chew food if he'd like the lining of his stomach to become one continuous piece again.

Over the weekend he called me up to ask me where your appendix was located as he was convinced he had appendicitis. Turns out he is only consuming protein shakes.

arrrggghhh!!!!

But don't worry, between the protein shakes and the 4 hours a day in the gym, he's really buff. And isn't that what's really important?

No, he's not on a diet. he's just lazy. I'm on the phone with him now and he's making fun of his friend who went on a fruit cleanse fast. How that's different from protein shakes, I'm not sure. I suggested he just go out and buy some ensure, start a competitive shuffleboard league and complete the cycle of life.

By the way, he has a college degree. From a well known university. Does anyone want to give him a job? Perhaps if he had a job he would eat food instead of drinking protein shakes. But probably not.

In unrelated news, it's 11:40 am and I've already eaten a yogurt with peaches and walnuts and a bagel with cream cheese and I'm hungry again.

Brother ed suggested a protein shake.

moneymoneymoneymoneymoney

hooray for me!!! I got my first disability check this week!!! We will not comment on how small it is, but at least we got some money!!!

the reality is that it won't last long. The first check is for the first week in May and since I only get paid out on 13 weeks of disability, I will run out of free money sometime around the second week of August. But at least we won't starve until then!!!

I know my finances are very boring, but I was excited. Plus I got to take a walk to the bank yesterday to deposit my very own check. so that was a double bonus. Money AND a walk to the end of the block.

Wow, life is exciting here.

today I am toying with the idea of going upstairs to tackle some of my scrapbook from Italy. I figure I only went on that trip last june, so I don't have to feel so bad about it sitting around in a paperbag and not in the lovely scrapbook I purchased for it. Plus I can't really justify starting my wedding or honeymoon albums when I still have the worldwind driving tour of the boot to finish up.

I know, hold on to your seats, this ride is really on the edge.

In knitting news, I ripped out the one gigantic pink mitten I had made myself this winter. (don't ask, I clearly have gauge issues) and started on a really simple baby blanket. I am also in the midst of a rather complicated baby blanket on size 3 needles which may cause me to go blind. I think the pattern is a little too hard for me. The color switching is not something I ever learned so I'm sort of making it up as I go along. With not so hot results.

Now back to your regularly scheduled nap.

Last night H asked me when it was time for the next belly shot. I told him the time was two weeks ago and don't worry, I took one myself in the bathroom mirror. Something tells me he doesn't read the blog...

So I see that everyone was too traumatized by my giant belly to comment on my last post. Fie on all of you then!

Things are pretty quiet here on the upstate front. I am low on inspiration so I think I will post up a meme that Lacey sent me via email. I won't tag anyone specifically, but feel free to tag yourself. hows that for lazy?

Things you may not have known about me.......... in convenient 4 bite portions.

4 Jobs I've Had:

1. Music and Drama director at summer camp.
2. Dishwasher in a plant science lab. at night. with enormous roaches.
3. Children's science museum docent. my co-worker was a boa constricter named "Spot". We sat at the front desk together frequently and greeted people.
4. Genetic educator for orthodox rabbis

4 Movies I Could Watch Over and Over

1. Roman Holiday. Something about the non-happy ending that I dig. plus who doesn't love a movie with a vespa?
2. French Kiss. Kevin Kline's french accent and the whole soundtrack amuse me to no end.
3. Titanic. If only to watch to ship and Leo sink. I blame this one on Ithaca's early last call and HBO's insistence on playing the same movie at the same time for a month.
4. Babe The Pig. C'mon, talking barnyard animals and singing mice? Need I say more?

4 Places I've Lived. Actually, I'll give you all of them. I should get some sort of tax break for never moving out of the state:

1. Fishkill
2. Bronxville
3. Long Beach
4. Manhattan
5. Ithaca
6. Carmel

4 TV shows I'm currently addicted to (Thank you DVR... I love you...)

1. LOST. but will they please get on with it?
2. Scrubs. mostly because he reminds me of H. actually he reminds everyone of H.
3. Grey's Anatomy. Even though I hate everyone on this show and frequently have to pause the replay to yell at people.
4. The Tudors. Smutty eye candy. and I only like the episodes with extra sex.

4 Places I've been on vacation:

1. Greece. Mostly the islands
2. Italy. Yes, the whole damn country. by car. including a 4am foray to switzerland. not on purpose. However, after that jaunt, mom has decided switzerland is her next overseas destination. oy.
3. Paris and the Riviera
4. Taiwan. Which wasn't really a vacation so much as a chorus tour/ bizarre psych experiment in college. Crazy Diana almost amputated her left leg to store in the overhead compartment of our double decker tour bus. yeah. you're jealous.

4 of my Favorite Foods: (this'll be fun. what does a pregnant water buffalo eat?)

1. Ice cream
2. Chocolate. in either cookie, brownie or candy bar form. oooh, or in milk. or yogurt or pudding...
3. frozen fruity bars with coconut in them
4. Burritos. but then, they always make the list.

4 Places I'd Rather be RIGHT NOW:

1. Tahiti. but only if I could teleport there. I am not making that flight
2. In a Spa. Anywhere. Having people rub things on me.
3. At any beach. with an umbrella and without other people.
4. 60 pounds thinner, not pregnant, with a frosty bev in my hand...

So there you have it boys and girls. Things you may have known, but wished you hadn't. But now the twinlets are kicking me which probably means they are hungry and I should feed them. I will force down something with protein and nutritional value, but you will all now know that I'm pretending it's a chocolate bunny filled with rum.

My Picks for the Preakness

As promised here are the snappy-shots from last night's ultrasound. H made it to the appointment (just barely) so he can vouch for the truthiness.

Here's a nice profile of Twin B. Well, the nicest we could get. They are less than cooperative at these little photo sessions:

I personally think she looks like she's wearing goggles in this shot, but it was a hard angle to get since she has her face pressed up against the side of my uterus. Delish imagery, I know. Imagine what it feels like...




Twin A didn't feel like smiling for the camera, but we got some lovely photos of the back of her head. This is the one that hangs out primarily on my right side and likes to kick me in the diaphragm causing spontaneous hiccups. You will note, however, the abundance of hair:




And for our final photo in the montage, we have both babies, head to head as close to my cervix as humanly (or fetal-y in this case) possible. Apparently, they are jocking for position on who is going to be first born. It's hard to tell from this picture, but A is winning. By her hair.





So that's what's going on inside the belly. Here's what it looks like from out here:




I know what you are going to say. "oh, that's not so bad. it's almost cute" I would like you to take a good look at my belly button.


Now I'd like you to scroll down to a shot of me on my honeymoon... 6 1/2 months ago.










Yeah, that's what I thought. Anyone feel like gouging their eyes out a la Oedipus? Petey offers to help

Happy Mother's Day

You know what's awesome? Going to the store on Mother's Day with a big giant belly and even though it's Sunday morning and the place is mobbed. Everyone smiles at you and jumps to get out of your way.

You know what's less awesome? Spending 4 hours in the triage unit at Vassar on a lovely Saturday afternoon because your uterus is feeling irritable and doesn't care that you have things to return at kohls or that your lawn looks like the australian outback.

Don't worry, everyone is fine. The irritable uterus got a smack down of terbutaline and H mowed the lawn while I passed out from said smack down. but at least I finally got some sleep.

The funny part is that I may or may not have had a follow up appt with the OB today, but I was so fogged from the drugs when she discharged me that I can't remember. Oh, well. I feel ok, so I'm not going. Besides I have my regular appt on Thursday after my monthly u/s.

So, get excited for Friday people. I have an u/s on thursday and a new computer and scanner in my very own house so H doesn't have to be in charge of uploading photos. Won't he be thrilled :)

I have only one clear picture from last month's scan of baby A, but here she is:

You can check back on Friday for hopefully two good 29 week shots. If you are lucky and I am not hideous, I will perhaps take my own picture in the bathroom mirror to post. However, any comments on the clutter situation in my bathroom will lead to your immediate ejection from the comment board. for life.

on the Petey Parker, Spider Cat, front: The petester is still eating fur like there's no tomorrow and H and I have decided to limit his food to only the hypo-allergenic dry food from the vet. This is not winning us any friends in the feline world.

"Please leave me to wallow in my hatred of you"

What happens to me without caffeine

Wow, I am a sucky blogger. You would think that since I am not working and my only job is to sit around here and gestate, I would find time to post witty and fascinating entries regarding being a uterus with feet. The problem with that is that it's not all that witty or fascinating.

let's take today for example. I managed to haul self out of bed around 11. This was after I was up when H left, ate a bowl of cereal and watched the today show for a while. the today show is like a horrific car wreck for me. It disgusts me and yet, I can't look away. Usually it's boring enough to put me back to sleep. Now that half of America is calling the local preacher to complain about my blaspheming the today show...

Right so, got up at 11. Read the paper on the front porch (don't worry, I got dressed first. But I am wearing a red t-shirt, so I'm pretty sure I look like the Kool-Aid guy) and called brother ed. Had to get off the phone with brother ed as we live on different plains of existance and there's only so much chatting we can do before I want to reach through the phone and slap him. This point was avoided today. Narrowly.

Came back inside and heated up some leftovers for lunch and chatted with mom. Then I piled some papers and the laptop on the bed to take care of some paperwork, check email, read blogs, etc.

It's 6pm.

Yeah, so thrilling. Yesterday: 2 separate 2+ hour naps and was still so tired, H had to bribe me to eat with KFC.

I think I'm due for a belly shot since yesterday marked 28 weeks and also leaves a countdown started until baby d-day. Let's see we have around 63 days left before we hit the big 3-7 and hopefully a lovely, calm, organized, planned c-section for the twinlets.

Last night H and I were talking and I said "Next summer you are going to have to teach them how to swim in the inflatable kiddie pool we'll have in the backyard" I think this stressed him out.

Blame it on H

I was going to post up a more recent belly shot today. Not that it's all that current. I think it's about 3 weeks old. anyway, digressing... I schlepped myself upstairs to the office as the laptop is kaput and plugged in the firelight all ready to upload some gorgeous shot of me and my hippo belly.

There's no picture.

H swears he moved everything onto the firelight for me to play with. He also lies. I finally got him to confess over the phone. He never took them off his laptop.

phooey.

but at least I was right.

In the meantime, here's a shot of Petey instead:


Petey Does the Dew

All Hail the Mighty Carbohydrate

yup, so glucose is my bitch. that's right, you heard me. my bitch. I aced me test and have been cleared of all heinous carb-restricted diets. This morning I had a bowl of cereal and a bagel in celebration.

woohoo. life is exciting around here.

Petey is on a fun diet himself. He has been biting the fur off of his back to give himself a hot new look for spring: The Kitty Mohawk. All the cool cats in town will soon be sporting the bare stripes down the spine in obvious deference to his royal highness of squirrel-menacing and human tormenting.

We took him to the vet since H decided that punk was not petey's best look. It's a serious bummer when even your vet thinks your cat is deranged. He doesn't have fleas. He doesn't have mites. No scabies, no kidney or liver enlargement. Just missing fur. Her suggestions were two-fold

#1 He is neurotic
#2 He has a food allergy

Since we already know #1 to have been true for sometime, we have decided to pursue option 2. I purchased a $32 bag of kitten crunchies and two cans of duck and pea pate. Let me tell you what Petey thinks of pate. Roughly what I think of pate which is BLECH and VOMIT. The stuff smelled so bad that I couldn't go in the kitchen. Seriously, it was foul. H put it in his dish and petey snorted at him.

All of this hair removal began shortly after the great nation of China decided to poison all of our pets in an attempt to take over in a risky terrorist plot. So we had to switch the petester off of his beloved nutro niblets as our store no longer carries any niblets in gravy. Unfortunately, Petey the Destroyer only dines on niblets and if there is not enough gravy, he makes his own by splashing in the water dish. Truly charming and not at all messy or a slip hazard for me who cant' see the floor on a good day.

We had been feeding him a highly nutritious diet of nine lives and friskies. If it's good enough for Morris, it must be good enough for His Holiness. Apparently not.

Being the good (and currently without research opportunities) scientist I was trained to be, I dug out an old tainted pouch of the beloved niblets (in case you are wondering, I saved the pouches he hadn't eaten on the advice of my mother who seems to think there may be a class-action suit I could get in on. this is good since I clearly need some action, class or otherwise) and began comparing ingredients between nutro, nine-lives and friskies

...At this point you should send help. Or a truckload of unfinished macrame as I clearly have too much time on my hands...

It looks like Petey the Neurotic Kitten may be allergic to soy. Who the frig is allergic to soy? Isn't soy what you give people who are allergic to everything else?? Now guess how many cat foods come in niblety form and do not include soy.

One.

Sheba.

It costs $1.39 a can. Petey eats two cans a day. That's $84 a month in cat food. Plus his weight in dry crunchy food.

This week may also be my last paycheck from my most wonderful employer.

But hey, at least I can eat bread. oy.

"Bow before me, my minions!"