24 Weeks

Oh my gosh what a difference a week makes. Last week was my best week yet in this pregnancy. I actually felt pretty NORMAL, aside from not being able to sit up without rolling over. Hello beached whale getting out of bed. I swear my life is looking more and more like a trailer for Shallow Hal. I sit on the bed, the other side pops up. I order a meal, plus a milk shake, plus another meal, plus dessert. I could go on but I won't.

Time for true confessions. My latest phobia is shopping for underwear. (Boys can skip this part). My ta-tas began to bother me about the lack of support I'm giving them. I know, right, who has time to support the ta-tas with all the other crap going on in life. Also the undies, which, by the way, fit me JUST FINE all through my last pregnancy, were cutting off circulation and making me fear for the well being of my babies and my legs.

I went to Target. Normally, I love Target - though the one I usually go to is never stocked with absolutely everything I need so I always have to make several trips a week to see if they've restocked - and buy more stuff - like minute rice, Swiffers, and wire whisks. So anyway, I shopped for AN HOUR trying to find a bra that fit. I didn't care about liking it. I just wanted it to fit. The one I finally bought - doesn't fit. It's too big. Hey, a girl can dream. I'll grow into it, right?

And the underwear (don't ever call them panties in front of me) oh good grief, what an emotional roller coaster that was. First I'm confronted with style choices - hipsters, bikini, briefs, boy shorts, high waist, low waist. Also fabric choice, which isn't hard - 100% cotton only, please. Color choices - someone needs to send a memo to Haines, et. all and tell them that nude is the new white. Why are there packs and packs of white only underwear? I admit to buying them in the past but only out of desperation (and because they were cheap).

And the worst choice of all - size. What a problem size was. You see, I measured my hips before leaving the house. As all girls know, undie size has NOTHING to do with real measurement - just like most girl clothing. So I couldn't tell just by measuring if my girth had increased one or two or even (gasp) three sizes. The undie companies have handy-dandy size conversion charts on the back of their package, which I consulted because I was hopelessly lost. So, get this, every single style had the same and singular measurement on it - the hip measurement. That means, I guess, that if very pregnant me buys a pair of high-waist grannies - they should fit according to my hip size. That's ridiculous. They're not going to fit. My belly size is so out of whack with my hip size that it's not even funny. Ok, so I'll cut them some slack because that was an irrational expectation. But, what did irk me was that both the high and low waisted hipster/ bikinis had the SAME sizing measurement conversion chart. This is a problem because high and low hip measurements are DIFFERENT in most women, at least it is in the ones who aren't shaped like little boys. So I knew I couldn't trust the back of the package. That left me with little else to do than to stand at the wall of underwear for roughly twenty minutes trying to search out a size I wasn't sure of in a color and style that they don't stock in that size. I had three contractions standing there. The stress was awful. I finally settled on a "variety" pack that included a disgustingly ugly pair of lime green undies - no nude, no black, nothing remotely neutral. But hey, at least my legs aren't gangrenous, right?

My latest health complaint is nose bleeds. Gross, right? I know. So nasty. I get them three or four times A DAY. I think I have pregnancy hemophilia. I got one at dinner tonight. My poor family. Thank goodness they're all boys and have a high tolerance of gross things - some even find them interesting/ funny.

Baby wise, things seem to be going well. Lots and lots of kicking. Both have turned away from the outside of my belly (I think) because my organs are taking a beating right now. It's not painful - just weird. The kicks are getting stronger and stronger. The boy has managed to land a few hard somewhat painful kicks just below my rib cage.

Every time we drive past the exit for the hospital on our way to Roy Rogers I feel a pang of excitement now. I'm so looking forward to them being born. Two babies. It's finally starting to sink in.

All in all this week was really fantastic. My energy is back up. I'm having fewer contractions (today was an exception). I sleep less of the day away. I can do more than one thing a day. I do feel puffier. Right now I can tell my fingers are getting puffy, as are my legs.

Oh no! I've gone two whole hours without eating! I should get some jelly beans - not for me - for the babies.