Spring took its time getting here, but finally this week the sun came out, the flowers bloomed, the grass instantly grew to a chigger-friendly length, the birds commenced their melodious yakking, and the pregnant lady’s ankles swelled in celebration of the warm weather.
I need to learn not to brag about things. At last week’s ultrasound I told our doctor I was going to have my cervix bronzed because I was getting so many compliments on it, and she basically told me to shut up and stop gloating because it was still early and my cervix could give out at any moment. Gulp. Ego destroyed.
I had also become very proud of my unswollen feet and ankles, and wouldn’t you know, now they’re puffed up like freshly baked, veiny bread. But time waits for no one, and we’re under the gun to get a bunch of things done while I’m still upright, so I’m forced to drag my flesh blocks around the house as I clean, organize, and boss Matt around.
J.P. and Deva, Matt’s dad and stepmom, arrive on Tuesday for a day of Triplet Preparedness. As Matt and J.P. hang doors, lighting fixtures, and shelves; Deva and I try to “boy up” the nursery by painting over a purple wall, then “girl up” the front porch by replacing our potted weeds with flowers and strawberries. It’s a long day but we get a lot done.
When we go in for my ultrasound, we’re thrilled to hear that the trips are all around 2 pounds — not too shabby for a single baby and definitely great for three guys sharing a womb. My doctor also tells us of a woman who maintained a four-centimeter cervix up until she delivered her triplets, and another woman who walked into her scheduled C-section at 35 weeks. These are the real heroes of the high risk pregnancy set. Not me, with my three-centimeter cervix and my measly 26 weeks. I have a long way to go, and I’ll be lucky if I do half as well as those gals.
Until we meet again,
xo Flesh Blocks