35w2d: Birthdays!!!

Atticus hasn't grown in 10 days, and his dopplers have increased. Looks like his placenta did its best and now it's time to rely on external support.

In other words, I've got a C-section in just over 3 hours.

Time to meet my boys!

35w1d: I pee a lot

I just wanted to share with you all that I more than filled my little urine jug. I know, these are the details that keep you reading.

I just got back from the doctor. My BP was actually down to 125/78 this morning. Protein on the dip strip still +1, waiting for results on the 24-hour catch, but she's thinking I'm probably not pre-e so much as...very pregnant with twins. I did gain another pound (since Friday!!) and am increasingly swollen.

Also bumping NSTs up to twice a week. My OB told me she doesn't want me going much past 36 weeks. We set a tentative date for Feb 10th (induction or section, depending on positions, but sadly likely a c-section), which puts me at 36w5d. Of course, depending on lab results, NSTs, and serial BPs, that could be moving, but I'm really hoping to make it!!

I'm trying to be as strict with my bed-rest as possible, since it seems to have made a difference. It's hard, though. But I want to keep my boys properly perfused and inside so they can get nice and fat.

35w0d: Indoctrination

My husband is, for the most part, not an asshole about being a Pats fan. He's loved them through thick and thin, and apparently they've had some awful decades in there. I don't know, since I'd never really heard of them until we began dating.

(I mean, seriously, American football? It's so weird. Rules about who is even allowed to catch the ball? Rules about who can throw and who can throw backwards? The quarters--and the entire game--don't even end when the clock goes out! And they hardly ever do anything in the whole 3 hours, which explains why I, as an 8-month pregnant woman, could easily dress as a center or one of those other big guys for Halloween and no one would be like, "You can't play with that big belly!")

I myself am not an asshole when it comes to being a Jazz fan. We haven't been truly awful in my life time, but we have had some less than impressive seasons, and tons of bi-polar seasons like the one we're currently undergoing, which is probably why I have higher blood pressure now than I did 3 weeks ago.

When we first began discussing baby names, we both tossed out several team names. (Don't you think Stockton is cute, for a girl? Gronk kind of has a nice ring to it.) We were kidding, of course, since we're not total assholes.

We had a conversation a couple nights ago about whether we will...well...brainwash our children. If they don't particularly enjoy basketball or football, that's one thing. But could we raise little ones who...turn into Laker fans? Get thee behind me! (My husband feels similarly about the Jets.)

Of course, in the long run, supporting a professional sports team isn't a big deal. (Assuming we also raise our children to be sane and to not be assholes.) But come on, there's a reason I support the Jazz, and it's because, well, I'm from Utah. Although my mom isn't into sports at all, my friends had parents who were, and I grew up hearing about them, learning all their names like they were rock stars. We didn't have TV until I was 8, so I'd never even seen a professional game on TV, but I knew all about them from the playground. I was a tom-boy and played "basketball" with the boys at recess. I wanted to be in Junior Jazz (like Little League), but at the time, they didn't allow girls. I mean, if I'd been raised in Denver, I have no doubt I would be a Nuggets fan, you know? That sort of deep, long-abiding love and willingness to say, "It's our year!" over and over and over...when your roster is entirely full of aging players with broken knees or crammed with 19-year-olds who think defense is for non-famous players...that's not entirely rational.

I'm pretty sure our kids will love the Jazz and Pats, at least until they're slightly older and desire to individuate from us or their peers. It's interesting to think about.

And if they decide to cheer for the Lakers, they can't sit next to us. I think that's fair. Consequences are an important thing to grasp, after all.

34w5d: Betamethasone

To be brief:

Babies are fine. My blood pressure was 140/95 with +1 protein. I was also having my usual contractions every 5ish minutes. Fingertip dilated (and then swabbed for GSB and another for possible infection to explain ctxns), sent to L&D for serial BPs, 5 hours of monitoring, and a zillion blood tests.

BP went down to 133/78 on average. Got the shot in the ass despite being technically past the cut-off, as there's new data suggesting that, for babies who don't make it to full-term, it still makes a difference. And it can't hurt.

So I'm back on strict bedrest, doing a 24-hour catch, and expecting my babies sooner rather than later. (My OB guesses within a week, but you never do know.)

The irony is, I've been teasing my husband since like July about how if his team makes the Super Bowl, I will deliver during it, as the ultimate love test.

He's been a Pats fan for over 30 years now.

And I was kidding.

34w3d: Look, I'm just huge

My tooth, according to the dentist, will just have to wait. Apparently there was decay which (along with the almonds) caused the break. He took an x-ray (2 lead vests plus rationalizations of "I get radiation from computers, cell phones, TVs, everything, my boys' organs are developed, it's the new digital technology so a lower dose", etc.) and the decay is not close to the root.

So I could either get a temporary cap thingy, and then go back after birth for a filling...or just keep it really, really clean and go back after birth for a filling.

Because it is an upper molar and because I'm so fucking huge and cannot lay on my back long enough for him to even properly look at it with a mirror, he suggested the "keep it clean" method.

So now I own a water pick.

My dentist is not the only one who thinks I'm too huge for normal life. I tend to concur. Yesterday, I put on socks, and discovered afterwards that one had a hole in it. Not just a little hole, either. But I left them on, because the thought of reaching my feet to take them off and then replacing the holey ones with new socks was simply overwhelming.

When I get up at night to pee, I first sit and catch my breath. I then reach out and grab the closet door frame (yes, our room is rather small) and pull myself up. After peeing, I use the sink as a hand-rail.

I had to sit down to chop a single onion last night.

I'm sure some of this is deconditioning from my lengthy bedrest stint, but some of it really is my size. And weight. I've been retaining fluid and I wouldn't be at all surprised to discover that I have gained 10 pounds this week.

I am so glad my boys are still inside and growing. But the honest truth is, it's getting very difficult to carry them. I know that every day they're inside is a day they're not in the NICU, which is what makes the near-crippling sciatic pain worthwhile. And it's only one more month, so I can surely cope with the back and hip pain. I'd much rather suffer than have my babies suffer.

But I will be glad when it's March and I have them in my arms.

34w2d: I just broke a tooth

Eating nuts.

A molar.

I have no idea what to do.

Calls in to OB, doctorsister, and my dentist.

I've never even had a cavity, and now I break a tooth while pregnant???

PSA: Do NOT go to the MFMs at St. Mark's Hospital

The insurance thing...we have an answer. I can't remember if I'd yet remembered that I saw Maternal Fetal Services of St. Mark's Hospital for my NT scan. But I did, and they were in network.

In October, Maternal Fetal Services of St. Mark's Hospital was bought out by Obstetrixs, a daughter company of Pediatrix. Maternal Fetal Services just fucking assumed that all their insurance contracts would stay the same. They never informed any of their patients of this sell-out.

Instead, they lost all their contracts with Aetna and Cigna. They knew this in December, once they began billing patients again. They decided not to tell their patients because they didn't want to lose them. Honest to God, this is what the office manager of Maternal Fetal Services (now Obstetrix of St. Mark's Hospital) told me during our meeting yesterday. All bills were supposed to go on hold. Mine somehow slipped through the cracks, which explains why they had the audacity to state that I did not have a bill from them.

As far as I can tell, Pediatrix and Obstetrix headquarters and billing office have no idea any of this happened. Which is why THEY had the nerve to tell me that knowing my benefits was my responsibility, when their newly purchased little group didn't even know their own damn insurance contracts and didn't inform anyone of any changes. It also explains why, when their billing manager called me yesterday, she had no fucking idea what was going on. Seriously, none.
My OB has the CEO of St. Mark's on this. A bunch of other higher-ups are on it as well. I still have nothing in writing, but I have been promised that I, along with all Aetna and Cigna clients, will not be charged for out-of-network. That Maternal Fetal Services will pay the difference themselves.

But you know what? I'm still irate. I think their business practices are revolting. This isn't a McDonald's, here. This is a group of high risk OBs. They are responsible for the care of women and their unborn babies, and all of the women or unborn babies have been referred to them because non-specialized OBs think they need even more care than they can provide.

You do not fuck around with high risk gestating mothers and their unborn babies.

Remember the "software change" that was partly responsible for them telling me Atticus was severely abnormal and needed to be born at 26 weeks at the latest? Well, that change was done as part of this take-over. And they have stated to me numerous times that, although I got the worst of it, I was not the only woman given incorrect medical information during that time-frame. And that they had intended for on-going patients to stay on the old system and only have new patients on the new system.

Well, they didn't.

And they didn't think that that might be the problem when they saw abnormal numbers.

And they didn't double-check any measurements or anything.

They just looked at the computer and said, "steroids and delivery".

These people cannot diagnose. They cannot bill patients for the services they (inadequately) provide.

They should not, in my opinion, be allowed to continue to provide care, much less in a major hospital in Salt Lake City.

I am someone who inherently likes and trusts doctors, nurses, and other health care providers. Maternal Fetal Services of St. Mark's Hospital, now Obstetrix, has shown me that extremely shady, greedy business practices do indeed impact the medical care one receives.

I think any high-risk patient in Salt Lake should go to the U of U or IMC instead. For their own peace of mind, and for the safety of them and their child(ren).

33w6d: Almost 9.5 pounds of babies!

Yesterday I had a growth scan along with my NST and OB Friday morning fun. My little Atticus is (*drum-roll*) 4 lbs 2 oz!!!! He did it! He got out of the "very low birth weight" category and is well on his way to kicking "low birth weight" in the ass. And Damien is only ounces away from doing that himself: 5 lbs 3 oz.

This time, the peri had nothing evil to say about either of their weights. They have both slowed down (Atticus is now 18th percentile and Damien is, of all things, in the 40th now), but she states that that is extremely normal for twins as they run out of room. The even better news, from my perspective, is that the difference between them is now only 20%. Damien slowed down more than Atticus did. This is good, in my opinion, because it shows that it's not just that Atticus has a sucky placenta. He can wage turf wars against his brother and win, because his body knows it needs ever ounce, whereas Damien's body is probably like, "Eh, 7 pounds, 6.5 pounds, whatever, I'm still all that." That last part is completely unscientific reasoning, by the way, but it's what I like to think.

They both aced their NSTs. They, much like HoneyBadger, don't give a shit. I had 6 contractions over the 30 minutes (not unusual for me--they are irregular and usually non-painful, and I often only feel about half of them). Their little hearts don't decelerate at all. Given that I haven't completely abandoned my hope of a vaginal delivery, I love hearing this.

I measure at 43 weeks, which is charming I'm sure. I also somehow gained FOUR POUNDS last week. My hands and feet are much more swollen than they've ever been, so I think a bunch of that weight is in them. But my doctors aren't concerned, so I'll just continue to turn into the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.

I have no protein in my urine, blood pressure is still fairly low (135/78--high for me, but it's been that way for a month now and isn't worrisome on a clinical level), blood glucose levels are fine, etc. They've stopped measuring my cervix (as they wouldn't do anything to prevent labor, and my OB doesn't do internal checks unless she thinks I might already be in labor, because she thinks they don't really tell you much and just needlessly run the risk of introducing bacteria to the cervix). My peri recommended I schedule another growth scan for 36w5d, that she didn't think that was completely unreasonable. And my OB said she doesn't think I'll deliver "in the next week or so".

So huh. I may get full-term babies after all!!!

Atticus turned breech, by the way. He sat his little ass right on my cervix and doesn't want to move. Damien is head-down, more oblique than vertex, but in a position such that he would probably be perfectly placed once Atticus evacuates the Frat House. So I just need to somehow convince Atticus to flip back.

Still 33w4d: Insurance Madness

Well, given that Thursday afternoon is really pushing the "sometime next week" thing, I decided to call the billing people again.

This time, I spoke to another woman, who was also not the manager, and who also didn't seem to know a lot. But after reading "the notes" on my file, she came to the conclusion that my insurance was, in fact, billed (on December 16th) and that coverage had been denied because the MFM group is not in our network.

Excuse me?

I said to her, "You told me you were."

She said, "Well, I'm with the billing office, I don't know what the medical office told you."

"They said you were in network. They said this to me, and they said this to my OB. They also collected my insurance, photocopied it, charged me the initial $25 co-pay to see a specialist, and told me all was good."

(My maternity is/was covered 100%. I have one single co-pay to my OB, one single co-pay to any specialist I see, and one single co-pay to the hospital. No matter how many times I see the OB, specialist, or hospital.)

"Well, ma'am, I don't know what to say about that except it's the patient's responsibility to know what their insurance covers. Would you like me to connect you to my manager?"

Why yes, I would. The manager, of course, was out of the office. So I asked for her personal voice-mail and left a somewhat hysterical message.

I then called my OB's billing office, and they weren't in either, so I left them a message, sobbing this time, because seriously: $5,599.00 for 3 ultrasounds, and I had an additional ultrasound and NST all under this insurance and with the evil MFM group which had not yet been billed.

Finally I called the number on our old Aetna card. At this point, I had very little hope. I mean, assuming that the MFM group truly was out of network...Aetna had no responsibility. That's part of our (old) plan--zero out of network unless there is no in network provider within 50 miles. But I figured, you know, what the hell. It turned out that number wasn't for Aetna itself, but rather for my husband's company's benefits as a whole. (They're a huge national company.)

The woman I spoke to deserves a raise. I plan on telling them this, once things are settled. Anyway, I was able to outline all of my appointments for her, including the Aetna ones at the evil MFM, the Aetna ones at the 2nd-opinion MFM, and the Blue Cross ones back that the evil MFM. The second opinion ones had been filed, approved, and paid. The evil MFM has not yet billed for the December u/s and NST, or for any of my January stuff under Blue Cross.

However, the evil MFM group is not called by their actual name (MFM of Utah.) They are also not called by the name that was on my bill (Obstetrix Medical Group.) Instead, they are called Pediatrix something or other. Pediatrix Mountain group or some nonsense. So in other words, they're a large corporation that apparently deals mainly with pediatric care (note to self: avoid once children are born). And didn't ever think to reveal that to anyone.

I asked Ms. Awesome to verify that Pediatrix/Obstetrix/whatever was actually covered by Blue Cross, as I have an appointment tomorrow. She was unable to find them by any name on the Blue Cross information, including looking up departments at the hospital. Just who the fuck are these people? I gave her their phone number, and she called and spoke to the receptionist, who said they were. She called me back, and we agreed that that was cold comfort at best.

Ms. Awesome then proceeded to (all while being very polite and apologetic, despite this being in no way, shape, or form her fault or the fault of my husband's company or either insurance company) investigate every avenue. She came to the conclusion that I had two options, but wasn't sure about one of them. She asked if she could call me back. In the mean time, she would call Aetna and see if either option could work and would call Blue Cross to verify in-network status.

After hanging up with her (and calling my husband and making him extremely angry--he hates these people more than I do!), I got a call back from my OB's office.

Guess what? I am not the only person this Obstetrix/Pediatrix/evil MFM group has lied to. Or, I should state, has been given false information, since maybe it wasn't a lie, maybe they're just really fucking stupid.

My OB's office has only discovered this over the past few weeks, as apparently this evil group only bills in December or some nonsense. I was speaking to the billing and office manager. She personally assured me that, in no way, shape, or form would they take this sitting down. She would be calling the evil MFM right away, and then possibly my insurance companies. We hung up.

I then got a call back from Ms. Awesome. She said Blue Cross was also unable to find this stupid group (so how, exactly, is a normal person supposed to find out if they're covered, when the office provides false information and then somehow hides themselves from being listed as either in or out of network? From major health insurance providers? WTF?????). So she and Blue Cross conference-called the evil MFM, who said once again they were in network with Blue Cross. And that I could act on that information in good faith. She also said that one of my options with Aetna is not an option. But that I can attempt to get coverage by providing proof that there was a valid, medical reason to send me to the evil MFM over any other provider.

HAHAHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

No really.

At this point, I can think of about 4,000 reasons to see any provider but Obstetrix.

We decided to focus on the reasons I was referred there in the first place, mainly that they are in the same hospital as my OB, the hospital I'll be delivering at, they said they were in network, etc.

I updated her on the info from my OB's office, and she was kind of taken aback. We agreed that we would let things play out with my OB and the Evil MFM, and she would call me in 2 weeks if I haven't called her first. She gave me her personal line.

And then, finally.

The Evil MFM group themselves called.

The manager began by informing me that they had never sent me a bill.

I was like, "Umm...yes, you have."

She suggested that it was instead an explanation of benefits from my insurance company.

"Then why is the return address for Obstetrix Medical Group, have your phone number on it, have a due date, have the S1 code ("your insurance has denied benefits or we have no insurance on file"), and so on?"

"Well, then maybe sending it was a mistake."

If I had been near a glass object, it would have shattered.

I can't even remember the rest of the call, as I'm still furious. But the short of it is: they fucked up, they don't want to lose me as a patient (I just bet they don't, greedy bastards), and they will bill me as if I were in network. As in, I will only be responsible for what I would have to pay (with both Aetna *and* Blue Cross, as I told her we had only their word that they were in network) what I would pay if they were in-network. So ZERO for all of 2011, and now an 80/20 split.

I'll believe it when I see it, frankly.

And if I ever get pregnant again, I will avoid them at all costs.

33w4d: Nursery Pictures

32w6d: Anyone who is satisfied with American health insurance...

...has clearly never had to deal with it.

At this point, I don't even know who to blame: my evil MFM (god I hate these fuckers) or our seemingly-awesome but potentially evil old insurance.

In short: I got a bill for $5,600 in the mail yesterday. This bill is for my original anatomy ultrasound (which, come on, how is that not completely standard maternity care? I don't know a single woman who doesn't get "the big" ultrasound), my follow-up ultrasound (which we had out of concern as we were unable to see the babies' hearts, and because of growth concerns), and then the evil evil ultrasound (which we had because of my cervical funneling and continued growth concerns), at which point I was told steroids+delivery.

According to this little letter, I have 30 days to pay, and S1. (S1 means either they had no insurance on record, or my insurance denied the claim.)

So of course I call them (the billing office of the evil MFM, because this must be some horrible mistake) immediately, because what the fuck? They had my insurance, and my insurance covered maternity 100%. You read that correctly: 100%. No deductible. No co-pay (except for hospital admission). Yeah, that is a very large part of why we were on this more-expensive plan and were extremely sad when it was taken away from my husband's company.

As soon as I reached an actual person, she was like, "Well, here's the note we have." Seriously, she didn't even ask me why I was calling or what she could help me with. According to the note, they don't have my telephone number. Yes, bitches, you do. It's right there next to my address. Also, I'm in the office all the damn time, so if you needed it, surely someone could ask. Anyway, the reason they sent the bill is because they don't have my phone number.

Oh well, that's makes tons of sense.

Except not at all.

There was another note from someone in charge, saying something about needing a letter of medical necessity. From me? No, from my referring doctor (whose name and number they have, of course). Is that different from the original referral I gave them? And are they aware that it was their own office who deemed the subsequent ultrasounds a necessity?

"Well, we'll need to look at your records."

Well, please do.

I didn't even understand half of the rest of the conversation. The woman I was speaking to was, sorry to say it, an absolute moron. She had no idea what was going on, and of course everyone else was out of the office. And won't be able to talk to me until "sometime next week".

Here is what I was able to get out of the conversation: My insurance company was probably not billed in the first place. (She wasn't sure--she thinks that her office looked at my coverage and decided I needed a letter and so decided not to do anything about it.) Which I think makes sense, because the other MFM group that I saw did bill my insurance, and I got a statement in the mail saying it was 100% covered. So unless these assholes decided to wait 3 months before filing the initial claim and my insurance looked at it and was like, "WTF, we already paid for her to have 2 ultrasounds by an MFM group, why are we getting billed for more", then I don't see why my insurance would happily cover the one but not the other.

I don't need to do anything. No really, I'm not the one who needs to get the letter, I don't need to sign any HIPPA forms letting them disclose all my information to my insurance company (pretty sure those were the forms I signed that had my phone number on them, by the way), I don't need to call my insurance company, nothing.

So then why send me the damn bill in the first place? Why wait until 4 months after my initial ultrasound? Why keep treating me if you don't think I'm covered without even so much as mentioning it to me???????

No answers.

But the supervisor person will call me sometime next week.

I don't even know what to do. I'm supposed to have another growth scan (and NST) this Friday. But frankly, I don't trust them on these growth scans at all. My OB herself laughed at the statement that Damien was too big. So if Damien isn't too big (which I agree with) and Atticus isn't too small (which, since he's been following the same curve since we began taking measurements, I also believe), then why am I being scanned if it won't be covered at all? Or will it, with my new insurance? Or will I only find out some time in July or August?

I'm just so frustrated. I hate everything about how we pay for health care in America. And I hate that I can't even get an accurate picture of our finances because bills can spring up months and months after the fact, with no warning at all.

And if we have to pay this bill, it will go on our credit card, and we just finished paying off our IVF. So this is even more money we don't get to actually spend on our babies, as we'll be cutting corners to pay it off as well as the unexpected need to meet a deductible with our new plan and paying 20% of maternity with that. Sigh.

32w4d: Bouncing Baby B

My mom was over yesterday, and we were talking about baby movement. I mentioned that I hadn't felt either of my boys hiccup, which made me kind of sad. I knew I had the hiccups quite frequently when my mom was pregnant with me, and my best friend's little guy hiccuped almost non-stop, including for many months after birth. It's just something I wanted to feel for myself. My mom said that only me and my brother hiccuped--neither of my sisters ever did.

Oh well, right?

While watching the Jazz game last night (a tragic loss in overtime, against the evilest team in the world), Damien suddenly bounced.

And bounced again.

And again!

About every 5-10 seconds, for almost ten minutes! My little guy, what a show-off. His daddy didn't believe me at first (he had somehow never heard, or perhaps believed, that babies could indeed hiccup in utero). After about 5 minutes of his hand on my belly, he took it as fact.

It was so much fun--these little rhythmical spasms, not very strong but certainly present. I pictured him bouncing around in his fluid, probably a bit pissed off, as really, he hardly has any muscle control at all, this simply adds insult to injury. It also made me happy--I know it's practicing breathing that leads to hiccups, so now I have proof positive that both him and his brother are doing everything they can to mature their own little lungs.

I'm getting so excited to meet them.

32w1d: My baby shower

As mentioned, I went to my very own baby shower on Saturday. This is actually the first baby shower I have been to in over a year, as I was too raw all of last winter and especially spring, following losing Isaiah.

I was dreading it. I had some requests: please keep it small, please no games, please nothing cute or fancy.

It was both amazing and mildly terrifying at once. Mainly amazing, though.

It was a group of women (and one toddler boy who napped through almost the whole thing, which is pretty amazing), sitting around a living room, talking. But most of the talk was about parenting, motherhood, babies, twins, pregnancy (3 of us were pregnant), baby names, etc. For the most part, I can have those conversations now. But a small corner of my brain kept saying, "Yes, no wonder this was unbearable. It really is that bad. It's just all about the mommy club." Until the shower was officially over and a handful of us were still hanging around, no conversations were about work, vacations, relationships (except how they change, once you're a mommy), movies, books, seriously nothing. And yes, I get it--that's what a shower is for: celebrating a woman becoming a mom (and kinda celebrating the child/children she's going to have, though I do think it's much more about the mom-to-be). And I think that's important, and I'm glad I did it.

But no, former-me. No, people still in infertile hell. No, you're not making it up or over-reacting. Not a single word, not a single glance around the room, can fail to scream BABY BABY BABY. When that's all you want and all you can't have, crying in the bathroom for 30 minutes really isn't excessive. You deserve a medal for simply showing up at all. And if you can't, fuck it. My celebration was no less special because, say, my doctorsister wasn't there. I would have liked her to be, sure, but she wasn't. It didn't steal my happiness. So any showers I skipped along the way, for whatever reason, I release that guilt and shame.

I had a few moments, looking at tiny shoes (and holy crap, did people give me shoes and booties! my boys will be very well-shod, until they master the art of kicking off their adorable shoes and booties), thinking, "No, this can't be me." I had a few panics, looking at the pile of gifts at my feet, thinking, "How will I ever cope with giving this stuff back if something happens? Or will I just throw it away?"

But for the most part, it was very fun. The cutest little clothes! Baby bath supplies! Itsy bitsy nail clippers! Being in a room full of people who all knew about our IF (to a certain degree), all knew about my previous miscarriage, and all knew how badly I've always, always wanted to be a mother. All of them knew how hard I worked towards this goal, all of them were celebrating me very nearly being there. Every woman who goes through infertility should get a party, whether or not she gets pregnant. It was such a wonderful acknowledgment of the whole thing, even from people who really sucked at supporting me during the ugly times.

It was also enlightening. A two-time mom offered, as her advice: celebrate something every day. Celebrate that you took a shower or ate a meal at a table using silverware. But something about the way she said it made me think: I bet she had post-partum depression. She sounded like she was about to cry, recounting those early months, and not in a nostalgic way. Maybe I'm projecting, of course, but I sure heard what I heard. And I never would have guessed, I never knew, and her youngest is less than a year old.

After my great-aunt shared that the minute that changed her life the most was when she first held her first baby, another mom jumped in to share that she had an awful delivery, that her overwhelming thought when handed her child was "whatever", and that she loves that child intensely and the bonding happened, just not right away. And as I look a likely c-section in the eye (Atticus is back to transverse), that's kind of reassuring, to know that no matter what happens during my delivery, if both my babies are alive, it will all even out in a few weeks.

People shared about hating breastfeeding and loving it. (And my best friend didn't share but I know--she opted for formula well before delivery and doesn't regret it in the slightest, and hers was the adorable sleeping toddler who is doing just fine, thanks.)

The daughter of one of my god-mother types, with whom I'm not especially close, is the mom of 10-year-old twins. She shared a lot. I might be calling her in a few months. They had a great story about how her mother kept saying, during the first year, "Oh, {daughter} is doing so well! She's so calm and composed", and the daughter finally snapped, "I'm not calm, Mother! I'm exhausted."

All told, I'm glad I didn't out-right refuse a shower, and not just because of all the adorable little shoes.

32 weeks

I'm 32 weeks pregnant today.

I had a baby shower yesterday.

Our nursery is 90% finished.

This is so surreal.

(I have more to say, lots, but for some reason, blogging has been very difficult this week. I'll try again tomorrow.)