It’s nearly the end of 2018, and it’s been two years since I posted much of anything on this blog. What a couple of years these have been.
As you know, if you’ve been reading this blog (and let’s be honest, that readership pool primarily consists of me and my spouse), I started a new job in Fall 2015 and moved to a new city: Detroit, Michigan. For a few years, my husband and I commuted back and forth on weekends to see each other, but late last year we finally bought a house and settled down in one place together.
Because we had twins.
That’s right, I’m now the proud and somewhat beleaguered parent of fraternal twin girls – who I will refer to on this blog as La Pelirroja and La Rubia (The Redhead and The Blonde) – who turned 1-years-old this past weekend.
So, you see, there was not much moving or drinking of brews for the better part of a two years between being pregnant with twins and then nursing twins. In hindsight, I wish I had pushed myself more to keep exercise when I was pregnant. My OB told me not to let my heart rate get over 140 while I was pregnant, so that kept me from anything but a not-too-brisk walk, but I could have done more swimming. There was nothing quite like swimming my third trimester and feeling gravity reassert itself when I hauled myself out of the pool. (Onlookers always looked concerned. Like perhaps I was a whale that was going to beach itself.)
But honestly, being pregnant with twins was not that bad for me. I’ve got a tall frame, so there was enough room for two in there, and once I got over the first trimester morning sickness, which is often worse with twins because of the increased hormones, I didn’t suffer from any particular late term complications like gestation diabetes or high blood pressure. I was very lucky.
There was an ongoing “discussion” with my OB about getting a C-section. They more or less told me at day 1, “So, you’re having twins, which means we’re probably scheduling a C-section for 38 weeks. Just so you know.” I lost that particular battle because La Pelirroja was Baby A and in breech, so there was no way they were letting me attempt vaginal birth. I may write a longer post, or posts, about the experience of pregnancy and birth at some point, but let’s sum up with: being pregnant is both empowering (“I’m creating life!”) and dis-empowering (“You can’t do [insert perfectly reasonable and non-crazy request like using a clear curtain during my C-section here]”). Since I wasn’t about to move back to California, as one midwife at my OB’s practice suggested I do when I asked for the above-mentioned clear curtain, I had to do a lot of letting things go for the birthing process.
But, we’re finally at a point where (maybe, maybe?) life is starting to calm down a bit, and I can once again go out into the world and drink coffee and beer, and perhaps start exercising again in earnest.