Twenty-Eight Weeks : Words Are Delicious

A long time ago, back when I was still wearing pants with zippers and drank martinis, I said something dumb. Shocking, I know.

When Robert and I went to Yosemite to get married, it was a rough trip. In between the flights there, we learned one of our dogs had a seizure at the kennel and they weren't sure they could save her. I remember sitting on the next leg of the flight, crying and upset that one of my dogs had died. I was already stressed out enough about traveling and making sure we had everything for the wedding (newsflash: we didn't. Robert didn't have suit pants). (Minor spoiler: the dog was fine. It seems she either faked the whole thing or it really wasn't a big deal. What was a big deal? The vet bill we paid upon our return two weeks later.)

When we landed in Fresno, we went to pick up our car; a nice little sporty convertible we'd confirmed the day before. We went to the rental counter and checked in, and the associate made a tsk-tsk noise. She was sorry to inform us, but they didn't have a convertible after all.

Or any fun cars.

Or any regular cars.

They had one car: a mini-van.

My stress level was already through the roof and I asked, "Do I look like the type of person who would drive a mini-van?"

[Cough]

We named him T-Sizzle for no other reason than to combat the grown-up feeling of owning a mini-van.

For story-telling purposes, I feel compelled to tell you our poor associate at the rental counter that day felt bad, especially after Robert apologized for my seeming lack of brain-to-mouth filter and told her about our day and how we were flying up there to get married and blahblahblah, and she told us if we waited for an hour or so, it seemed someone was supposed to be turning in a Jeep. We got the Jeep. She got my apology. And years later, I got to eat my words. Karma!

We tried not to get a mini-van. Okay, I tried. On the day we found out it was twins way back in August, the first thing Robert said was "We're going to need a bigger car!" I was resistant. I liked my vehicle. I saw no purpose in giving it up. Surely three car seats would fit.

[Sad trombone]

I had Robert try to fit them on about six different occasions to no avail. There was no logistical way to fit three car seats in my vehicle. Or Robert's vehicle. Ugh.

So, we looked at mini-vans. And I drug my heels and felt justified when the first one I drove had about as much get up and go as my grandmother's Oldsmobile. But then? We drove a Sienna. It was nice. And fast. And it ranked fairly low on the dork factor. I told Robert we could get one by my birthday, that mid-October would be plenty of time!

I then changed the date to Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving came and went because I kept saying "December 15!" And then December 15 turned to "the end of the year!" And then I started saying "January 15!" and then "How do you feel about March?" And Robert finally said, "January 15. No later. No excuses."

We bought it on January 14th. How's that for some negotiation? [I sometimes feel sorry for all Robert has to put up with.]

In non-vehicular news, I made it to twenty-eight weeks. Hooray! It's nothing significant, but kind of sounds that way. I'm mostly happy I had two really good doctor's appointments this past week. It seems Baby Girl is now out of the danger zone (8th percentile to the 11th percentile), and Baby Boy went and impressed us with a jump from the 17th percentile to the 42nd percentile. I also have a steel-trap cervix that not only isn't affected by contractions, it's actually grown longer. The other Pretty Peri gave me a high-five.

Perhaps the growing babies are why this dress fits a bit different now?

I've grown a few inches, but only managed to put on one measly pound this past week. The babies put on almost a pound each. Math like that hurts my head.

I'm feeling okay; a bit tired here and there, a bit queasy occasionally and random bits of heartburn, but nothing really to note. I don't feel that big, to be honest. I had a feeling that by the time I was in my third trimester I'd be a gravitational anomaly; leaving everyone wondering how I wasn't tipping over simply by being upright. But? I think I still look compact. Sure, I look pregnant, but not in the "Oh my gosh, are you having twins? Or due any day now?" type of commentary.

This is more what I really look like day to day. I tried on the dress in the above picture to see if I would feel comfortable wearing it to a wedding in a few weeks. I wouldn't dare wear heels to the event, but wanted to feel fancy, if only for a second. I think I'll wear a much prettier dress my friend Papar has lent me....paired with some flip-flops.

It's becoming more and more real to me that things are changing. The nursery wasn't that big of a deal; it's a room upstairs that I decorated and then shut the door to. But now, with the new car, the list of things we need to be ready is dwindling; finish sewing curtains, buy another infant car seat, find a bouncer, borrow an extra swing. We have tons of clothes, swaddling blankets and toys. I've even stashed a bottle or two in case we need to supplement. A twin breast-feeding pillow is on order.

Now, we wait. Grow babies, grow.