Adventures in Pregnancy: The Butternut Squashes



It took two appointments over two weeks to confirm she’s back on track for growth and that she’s getting plenty of flow.

I was so relieved, I came home from the hospital and fell asleep right on the couch.

Symptoms of twenty-nine weeks include nausea, insomnia due to a massive belly and lots of twin activity, horrible hips, and incredible productivity.

Totally. Still. Puking.

Wij verhuisd! [1]

And ever since I was in the hospital, I’ve maintained this productivity? efficiency? happiness? something weird kick. Now, to be clear, the other day I sat around doing absolutely nothing because I was constipated.

Yes, we’re talking poop again.


But, for the most part, I’m participating. I’m present. I’m unpacking randomly. And assembling furniture as long as it’s physically within the realm of possible. Actually, everything I’m doing is all with that qualifier – as long as it’s physically within the realm of possible.

Per the doctor, not per me. If it were possible per me, I’d push myself too hard. The doctor is wise and pushes me to chill the fuck out.

All hail the doctor.

And, except for a teeny snaffu when I couldn’t get an IKEA screw to fit (and totally cried about it), slept for twelve hours and then tackled it again, life has been solidly within the realm of healthy.

The absolutely awesomest news possible is that the little girl is back on track for growth. That she won’t need any extra monitoring.

And that I’m doing okay, too.

[1] We moved!

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