The Final Countdown

Tomorrow could be the day.

For the last couple weeks, I've been complaining about being uncomfortable. My belly is so heavy. The babies move around in opposite directions, pulling my uterus into circus-freak-like shapes. Matt stares at my belly with a mix of horror and amazement. I have to pee all the time. I'm exhausted by the end of every day.

So, one would think we should be totally ready for these floaties to come. And we are – sort of. But I'm also freaked out. I've become accustomed to my very quiet, peaceful, solitary days. For the first time in years – years! -- I have time to think and read and imagine. There's time to take a step back and look at my life, to consider where I might go in the future, to think about my career, my hopes and aspirations. Normal, everyday life leaves little room for this kind of considered contemplation.

But soon, I can kiss all that goodbye. In two days, I could very well be cross-eyed with sleep deprivation and reeling from hormonal upheaval, weeping and whimpering from a host of emotional and physical issues. I'll be taking care of two babies, even if they are in the NICU. I'll be healing from major surgery. Matt and I will go from being a couple with no real obligations, aside from a mortgage, to parents responsible for two other lives. As Matt puts it, we could be sent to jail if we say, forget to feed the babies for a couple days. Suddenly our lives will not just be ours anymore.

All this hangs in the balance, depending on what Dr. S finds tomorrow afternoon. Is floatie A still growing? Is he getting enough blood-flow? How are their heartbeats? The answers to these questions will determine whether we are granted another week of quiet or we go hurtling into our future.