I need to stop writing before I go into hysterics…not the fun kind, either.


Jesus, am I hormonal. Just read the comments left on my last entry and they got me crying. It’s nice to have reassurance that I am not a bad person for loving my babies and perhaps despairing of pregnancy at the moment. Of course there is a paradox – I cannot fucking WAIT for August and this part of the journey to be over, but at the same time more than anything I want their arrival to not happen until August is happily ticking away.

I want them to go to term more than I want my own pain to end.

I am also sort of upset because our wills are taking ages to sort out. We finally got the copies to proof in the post, and there was a letter to TMD informing her that it was ‘legal and right’ to refer to the babies as hers, thanks to a change in law. While the lawyer no doubt felt proud of himself for learning about the new law regarding lesbian couples, it pisses me off because that law only applies to infants conceived in or after April 2009. So, yet again, we need to go back to him to sort things out. The only reason we are getting wills in the first place is so that should something happen to me, the guardianship passes to her. The lawyer didn’t bother putting that in my will because he doesn’t seem to understand that TMD has no legal rights over the children at first.

It’s nice that he sees no distinction between us and any other married couple, but also fucking impractical and uninformed.

Whew. I talked myself out of the comment-tears and into lawyer-anger.

I don’t know. Today is still a rough day. I’ve gotten up a couple of times, and the weight of the babies pressing down on my hips is something quite extraordinary. While I was having a good cry in the shower this morning, TMD pointed out that the weight hurting my SPD is a good thing – because I ‘am doing such a good job, and the babies are growing big and healthy.’ She is right.

I still have a semi-irrational fear about being home alone, but at least the fear is now confined to me – what if I had to piss the couch? What if I fell?  This is more manageable than worrying that I’m suddenly going to shoot multiple babies out of my cootch onto the new carpeting.

I am so overwhelmed by the love and support shown to me/us via this blog, and I really can’t express what it means to have people there to cheer me on….and also tell me it’s okay to cry.

Fuck. Crying again. I just want to meet the babies. I just want to be able to walk without first worrying about how I shift positions on the couch, get up without my hips giving out, moving without the pelvic pain being something bordering intolerable. I think part of this is a disappointment that I am not prancing through a field of marigolds, wearing a floaty dress over my bump (I do love my bump) and smiling into the sun. I so wanted to love pregnancy. I have wanted to be pregnant for about seven years.

I dropped out of my PhD in 2003/2004 because we didn’t want to wait any more for children. For one reason or another, we did, and now they are here and growing. But I feel like I am failing at being pregnant. I know the important thing is staying pregnant, the babies being healthy and growing, etc. But I feel like the other side of pregnancy – the secret smiles and patting of my bump, the joy of feeling myself bloom, the freedom to be outdoors and outside with the babies in the bump – all of that is so rare.

I enjoy a two minute car trip to the fucking post office so much it makes me cry to think I once was able to actually leave the house without it being a big, special treat. I am missing out on all the things other pregnant women – particularly twin mums – complain about. Strangers coming up to touch your tummy without permission. Chatty bitches on trains telling you allllll about their pregnancies, which you really couldn’t care less about. Baby showers.


Part of this is also impatience because I just want to meet the babies now, but I am afraid of jinxing things if I say that outloud.

Eight more weeks, eight more weeks.

I remember reading this blog when she only had seven weeks to go, and how quickly it seemed to fly by – at least from my perspective of blog reader! I know eight weeks is nothing, but it sure feels like an impossible amount of time sometimes. I’ve been told by the midwives and doctors that the pain is only going to continue to increase, and sometimes I wonder how that is possible. I suppose the pain is bearable, but it’s the narrowing of my life that is not. Even within the four walls of my own home, everything requires such an immense effort and it’s….tiring?

I also have not pooped since a true ass bomb explosion on Wednesday after returning from the hospital. I have never not pooped for this long in my life. The thing is, even if I felt like I had to, I have to negotiate how to get to the bathroom, try to breathe through the pain of sitting on the toilet and hanging around, etc etc.

Sorry if this is just sounding like a giant pity party. I know some fantastic people are still trying to get pregnant and being so brave and strong, and here I am whining because I am lucky enough to have two babies tucked safely inside me.

I just feel like…I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t feel strong or brave enough to be more positive, I’m sorry I feel like I can’t bear another eight weeks, I’m sorry for feeling so overwhelmed by everything, I’m sorry for the amount of work TMD is doing to take care of me, the babies, the house, our life.  All I do is lie around and cry, or sleep, or moan.

I am constantly asking her for help. Can you please get me the ice pack? Can you hand me that box of tissues? Would you fucking just DIRECT the showerhead into my ass to rinse it – don’t you realise you are hitting my THIGH with the water?

I feel guilty.

Jesus. Now I’m sobbing. Great.

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7 Responses to “I need to stop writing before I go into hysterics…not the fun kind, either.”

  1. mrsfinn Says:

    I’m missing them too… be glad for your happy ending.

  2. Jenny Says:

    You’re having a really hard pregnancy, so OF COURSE you get to complain about how you want the pain to end, but that doesn’t mean your commitment to having the babies in until full term is any less!

    Seriously, I’m so amazed by what you’re going through… from what we’ve been going through here, singleton pregnancy seems like an absolute walk in the park in comparison.

    Oh, and as the non-gestational partner this time around I can safely say that your spouse WANTS to take care of you so you shouldn’t feel bad abut needing the help!

    Good luck, and I hope the next 8 weeks fly by!

  3. Tatiana Says:

    You made me cry too 😦

    I wish I could (awkwardly) hug you and lend a hand.

  4. Jinxy Says:

    I know your heard it before but don’t feel bad about crying.

    Its perfectly normal to want the pregnancy to be over because its hard and you are having an especially hard time of it.

    I’m sorry you are missing out on the rude touchy people and the crazy story telling ones. We could help out with the pregnancy stories if you want.

  5. ninefirefly Says:

    I know what you mean. I am so ready to be done being pregnant but I feel guilty about not wanting her in longer. I know I’m not carrying twins though and I can’t imagine my uncomfortableness doubled!

  6. Juice-ica Says:

    If I didn’t live a million miles away, I’d totally fill in the position of rude touchy person. Although I’d probably struggle to be rude to such an awesome person. <333

  7. Joinstick Says:

    “Hello Buddy, you have got a nice blog. Can you tell me the name of the theme? I like it.“

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