Week 32: Surrender

WEEK 32 sized

The Dumplings — Week 32

Today marks the beginning of the week 32 in my pregnancy.

I. Am. Exhausted.

One of the things I am really having to learn is how to surrender.  Not just say it, but actually do it.  My body gives me no other options at this point.  She is officially in charge.

My brain has to surrender.  This is difficult for her to do.  She comes from a long line of stubborn women.

Surrender to rest.  Surrender to the fact that I can’t do it all anymore — and more importantly, I never really could.  Surrender to expectations.  Surrender the vision of what I think it is all supposed to look like (or I wish it would look like) and accept what is.

What is?

I am 32 weeks pregnant with twin boys.  I want to keep them in there at least five more weeks, and in order to do that I have to let go of the work, the bills, the expectation of what I think needs to be accomplished today, tomorrow and the day after that.  For once I have to focus inside myself and not outside.

Whatever is outside can wait.

History tells me that life becomes easier, doors and windows fly open without struggle as we let go of expectations.  When you don’t count on things they often surprise you.  For once — in an effort to keep the stress at bay — I am putting this theory to practice.

My body is forcing me to surrender to all of it.  I’ve never had to obey her in quite this way before. It takes some getting used to.

I sleep at least ten hours per night now, no matter what time my head hits the pillow.  I get up at least three times to go to the bathroom.  I switch sides every hour or so by rising up like a beached whale in the bed, waking my husband every time.

The Dumplings kick and carry on as I adjust to my new position.

I wake up not very early.  I drink milk and I eat a little something.  I attempt to get something else ready in the house for the Dumplings.  After 15-minutes I am exhausted, sitting on the couch playing Candy Crush.  Stuck at level 79, I lose all of my lives within minutes and ask myself … why did I ever start playing this game?  I hate these stupid games.

Maybe I watch a movie.  Maybe I fall asleep.  Maybe I do both.  Generally I do both.  After all, it takes more than two hours to get a full set of Candy Crush lives again.

I surrender to the nap.

I wake up and Jonathan makes me eat something.  I drink something.  I watch in awe as my stomach rolls up and down — wondering is it the Dumplings or a poltergeist?  I reach for the little foot as it pokes out, longing to count the toes.  He kicks me and tucks it back inside.

I always imagined this blissful, easy pregnancy.  As I type this, I realize I always pictured this blissful, easy life.  Don’t we all?  Don’t we want life to flow for us like a winding river, with lots of easy stops for picnics and swimming?  Lots of places to rest and explore?  Lots of places to bask in the glory of our triumphs?  Lots of places just to be, knowing everything is going to be okay?

I decide it may not always be easy, rest may come sporadically at best — but in the end everything IS going to be okay.

Right now my back hurts and I long for yoga.  Despite doctors orders I stretch, I go into down dog to get the babies out of my pelvis.  I find myself on the floor doing cat cow stretches for my back.

It brings relief.

I am supposed to swim, but lack the energy to leave the house.  The heat outside zaps my energy.  Did I ever mention summer is my least favorite season?

Summer is my least favorite season.

I have always found this funny, considering I am a Leo.  I find it even funnier that I live in southern California, where there are no seasons, and the ones we do have generally feel like variations of summer.

Yesterday our doula came to the house.  She asks us about our birth plan, our wishes, how we see it all going?  I feel almost guilty for not having some grand birth vision, but the truth is, I don’t.  I want it to be as natural as possible, but I am already surrendering to the fact that it might not be.  Anything can happen — especially with twins — and the most important thing for us is bringing two healthy baby boys home from the hospital.

So today marks the beginning of the official arrival of J.R. and J.P.  I am confident whenever they get here, they will make it.  I just hope it’s closer to the goal of 37 weeks because I want to bring them home with me.

Whatever happens, I surrender.

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Dear Dumplings — Week 31, Day 2: The Story Goes On … Relative Bed-rest

Dear Dumplings,

Yes, it’s been awhile since I’ve written.  This is for a variety of reasons, mainly, I’ve been busy preparing for your arrival.  I have also been waiting for my new website design to launch.

There is always something to do and it seems like I will never be ready.  The nursery is basically finished.  I’ll take you through it little by little in the coming weeks.  It turns out I am going to have more time on my hands to write because today it happened.  I was put on “relative” bed-rest by Dr. D.

What does this mean?

It means I am allowed to swim, sit on my tushie and rest for the next several weeks, as I wait for your arrival.  I can’t even go to yoga.  I went to YogaWorks and put my membership on hold for three months.  Maybe we can sneak in a few classes in December?  People tell me I am nuts, but I suppose we each have to discover our own level of nuttiness as we travel down the road of life.  I have no preconceived idea of what December will bring, but I am hoping it brings us to yoga.

Before I get off on some other tangent, let me tell you about our appointment today.  Everything looks great.  According to Dr. D you weigh 4 lbs. 2 oz and 4lbs. 3 oz.  No wonder I feel extra heavy in front.  I already have more than eight pounds of baby dumplings in there!

The good news is both of you have your heads turned towards the escape route.  The only bad news is … we were only able to get one picture.  The little Dumpling closest to the escape decided to turn and face my back during the photo shoot and when we came back to you — you decided to stuff your fist in your mouth.  Apparently posing for pictures is not your favorite thing.

We do have this picture:

Baby Dumpling "B"

Baby Dumpling “B”

One day you can argue over exactly who it is.  I have no idea.  Your Daddy and I have decided we have to look at you before we can decide who is J.P. and who is J.R.

There is much to say about the past month or so, and given my tendency to tell stories, I’ll probably not tell it in chronological order.

In a nutshell — we’ve been to the Hollywood Bowl twice!  Once we saw Steve Martin and Edie Brickell with Daddy, Grandma Susan and K.K.  K.K. is my Mama.  This is her official Grandma name.  Your cousins Luke, Max and Abby already call her this and she seems to like it.  Apparently there is only one Mawmaw.

Our second time at the Hollywood Bowl, K.K. and I went to see Willie Nelson and Lyle Lovett.   Y’all really like Willie Nelson — especially when he broke into Whiskey River and Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die.  I am convinced this had nothing to do with the subjects of the songs, but rather the energy of the audience.

Here is a sneak peek of your nursery, which I will go into with more detail in the coming days and weeks as I write:

The beds.

The beds.

 

Changing Table / Dresser

Changing Table / Dresser

 

Dresser Shelves

Dresser Shelves

K.K. came for a week and we got most of the nursery put together, but there are a few finishing touches to come.  I have come to the realization that a nursery is mostly for Mama, but I do hope you like it.

Your Auntie Sharie and cousins, Stacy and Jennifer gave Mama a beautiful shower this weekend.  All of the generous gifts added so much more to the nursery.  You even have books from when Daddy was little and a toy from when Mama was little.  I’m waiting for some pictures, which I’ll share soon.  Your Mama and Daddy are blessed to have so many wonderful friends and family.  We can’t wait for you to meet them.

Now that I can feel you every time I sit down, we’re chatting a lot more.  Both of you seem to be very busy in the middle of the night.  I’ve been singing James Taylor’s Sweet Baby James and Johnny Cash’s Jackson a lot lately … and this song.  It’s from a musical most people have never heard of called, Baby, and the song is Story Goes On.

When I was in college I loved this song and I sang it all the time.  I realize now as you kick and punch and turn around inside my womb that I had no idea what I was singing at 21.  I was just belting a song.  I thought I knew, but now that I know, I can confirm I most definitely did not.  There is no way to know this until you experience it.  This song implies you are girls — but just ignore that — the sentiment is the same.

All of this rambling is just the prelude to your story.  Once you get here, I hope your Daddy and I give it lots of beautiful chapters as our Story Goes On.

Love,

Mama

 

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