37 weeks 6 days

Woah! My mood is swinging all over the place. Normally, I'm super stable. Creepily stable. For the past few days though I've been either on the dark side or on the edge of it. I'm trying to remain open to the mood, knowing that if I try to shove it down, it will not pass. I am trying to pinpoint its origins though and this is what I've come up with so far:

1) I think I've been at home by myself a bit too long. I was ready for about 4 weeks of home alone time, but I got 7. The 3 extra weeks have affected me more than I thought. I look at my date book and it says things like, "get those shape-up shoes". This is the extent of my plans, because I have no idea what it's going to be like when the twins come home. I'm preparing for total insanity, but I just. don't. know.

2) Ummm...Impending parenthood anyone??!? Transition is crisis, I know, I know.

3) The realization that no matter how much we have prepared, we are not prepared and cannot be.

4) I think I have some residual grief about needing IVF. I think the feelings are about spontaneity or something, about which Gregg would (and will) say, "eff that!" and would (and will) be correct.

Ah! I feel better for having made a list. Lists make me feel better.

So, we went to our pre-op appointment today and everything went fine. Actually it was sweet. We got a lot of "see you in 6 weeks" comments and good wishes from the clinic staff. Poetically, in the hall we saw our IVF Doc (Dr. B) for the first time since we were turned over from the IVF folks (practically perfect in every way) to the OB folks (less than perfect, ahem). He remembered us and seemed excited for the impending delivery, which made me excited.

The plan is this: c-section Monday, first case of the day. Spinal anesthesia. Sutures not staples. No narcotics. If everything is good, breastfeeding within 90 minutes. Gregg can stay with the babies to make sure no one gives them formula. I spoke to my lactation peeps who assured me they have my back. They encouraged me and Gregg to brag about our qualifications shamelessly to get what we want.

I'm good with it.

So I told my lie and got an ultrasound, but it didn't go as expected. As soon as he told me he was doing the ultrasound he said, "but we'll forgo the measurements". I nearly burst out laughing because that's what I do when I'm in the middle of a half truth. I can't help it. Half truths rarely work out. They really are not concerned about the weights. He expects that they're both going to be gigantic, so he's happy. Therefore, I must trust. I'm okay with this. No choice. All I saw on the screen was a big pile of chubby limbs. All of the limbs looked fat and healthy, so I feel okay about the babies again.

The last post generated some really amazing emails from friends and family about their experiences with OB care. Gregg's mom had a similar experience nearly 40 (yup, almost 40 sweetie!) years ago when she was pregnant with him...never the same clinician, people who didn't seem to be doing their job to their best ability, the brush off. It seems to be really common which is comforting yet completely disconcerting and enraging at the same time. I know a lot has been written about this topic, so I won't go on. A side note though...I would not recommend watching "The Business of Being Born" during pregnancy. We made the mistake of watching it early on the pregnancy and I became semi-distraught and had some contractions. Gregg at one point turned it off because he got really PO'd. A very informative film though.

So anyway. I'm feeling fine. Babies on Monday. Who's babies? Our babies. Fat healthy babies.

I'm going to gorge myself on chocolate and omega 3's for the next few days. The mood will lift. It's lifting already. Thanks for listening.