Week 29

I have made it to 29 weeks, another mini milestone. (Every week, every day is a milestone.)

About three weeks ago, I thought the floaties might not make it to 28 weeks. I was weepy and panicked and trying not to Google all the horrific things that could go wrong with such premature babies. Now, at 29 weeks I'm trying not to get cocky.

I keep reminding myself that 29 or even 30 weeks is still two months early. We want to keep the little guys in the cooker as long as possible. The closer they get to 38 weeks, the better. Still, having two straight weeks of good news from the docs is lulling me into a false sense of security. I can't really imagine the day -- which I know will come -- when the doctor says to me, "This is it. Today is the day you give birth." It will start like any other day, but end with me being cut open and having two babies in the NICU.

The weird thing is, I've gotten disturbingly comfortable with the idea of having premature babies. I've been told it's inevitable, so I've come to terms with it – sort of – at least until it actually happens, at which point I fully expect to freak out. I keep trying to find the "up side" of early babies: I'll have time to heal from my c-section; the babies will be getting excellent 24-hour care and monitoring; I'll have time to buy the stuff, like car seats, that I haven't gotten yet.

Also, I have been assuming the babies will be okay. And they probably will. But the fact remains that it's not ideal to be born premature. There are still lots of risks to my little guys. So while I think positively about the floaties and their health, I force myself to relax, rest, take a deep calming breath and drink another big gulp of water.

Go Team Floaties!