Things have been moving right along, and by moving right along I mean time is dragging so slowly I can’t even believe it. After so many years of trying and dreaming and wishing and hoping to be pregnant I swore I would never complain. I would enjoy every moment and revel in every change. Well….I’m trying. I’m trying really hard. But holy shit, this is the most physically demanding thing I’ve ever done. I hurt. All over. The only part of me that doesn’t hurt are my upper arms and my ears. Seriously. My abdominal muscles have torn in 2 places, and that’s where the babies love to rest their little heads. The heartburn is so bad that I vomit every few hours, even when sitting straight up (I am maxed out on Zantac, Tums, Papaya Extract and milk) and I refuse to eat anything that has even the slightest acid content. Both babies are breech now (more on that in a minute) which means I have 2 heads pushing on my diaphragm and ribs (so I can neither breath nor bend) and 4 little feet pummeling my plumbing. I can’t sleep for more than 2 hours at a time (vomiting or peeing, take your pick) and I’m having painful contractions 3-4 times an hour for the last 2 weeks. I know, I know, it’s worth it. It’s what I wanted. There are thousands of women who would do anything to be in my place. Trust me – I KNOW. But damn. 

In other news, we were in a car accident last week. It was minor (for us) – 5 car pile up on the freeway where some lady was texting and didn’t see that traffic had stopped and never touched her breaks. She slammed into the guy in front of her who hit the guy in front of him yada yada. We were the last car hit, first in line if you know what I mean. 3 of the 5 cars were totaled. We had almost no damage. My husband saw it coming, told us to brace, honked at the guy in front of him (who moved up about 10 ft) and then he released the brake at the moment of impact, thus helping to dissipate the energy of collision. We were all fine – the airbags didn’t even deploy. BUT, the guy behind us was hooked on our trailer hitch, and we were in the middle of the freeway where traffic was zooming by at 75 mph on both sides of us. S called 911, reported the accident, told him “We can’t move because the guy behind us is stuck, traffic is zooming by and my wife is 8 1/2 months pregnant. I’m afraid we’re going to get hit again. Can you send someone quick?” Well, within 4 minutes there were firetrucks and ambulances and police cars and the whole 3 ring circus. The paramedics come running to our truck at a full sprint to take my vitals and try and put me in the ambulance to go to the hospital. I’m insisting I’m fine and don’t want to go. I made the mistake of telling them “I feel fine and I can feel both babies moving.” BOTH BABIES!???? I thought their heads would pop off. When I still refused to go to the hospital they insisted I call my OB, who also insisted I go to the hospital. *sigh* I still refused to go in the ambulance so my husband and a bunch of police officers and firemen and paramedics lifted the other guys car off of our hitch so we could go. They were very accommodating about paperwork and whatnot and told us they would come to the house the next day.

So, off we go to the hospital where I’m admitted and monitored for 5 hours. Blood work, ultrasound, monitors for me and for both babies. As it turns out both babies are breech and I’m having a crapload of contractions. My blood pressure and blood work are great and both babies are breathing beautifully. The accident occurred at 4:35 PM and we didn’t get home until after 11. Want to talk about a tired, hungry, cranky pregnant lady!!! Anyway, all’s well the ends well, I guess.