We're hibernating.
Normally I don't reach this stage until about three weeks pre-birth, but this pregnancy calls for different rules. Because I have been so intensely limited in the energy department, I haven't had the ability to do much. Just getting Kid ready for school and dropping him off can cause an hour or two of needed rest. It's pathetic, but I have come to gain compassion and understanding for those that battle with exhaustion/fatigue.
Another reason we are home often is that this is a small town. Anywhere I go, I tend to run into people who are aware of our expanding family. Unfortunately, less than half of those people actually have positive responses towards our news. I have encountered several conversations that "prepare" me to have a nervous breakdown, extremely premature babies, well wishes on my craziness and my favorite, "Better you than me!"... and how am I supposed to respond to that? Witty/ardent responses requested.
Regardless, I know most people do intend to wish the best, and in a form are reaching out to show support, but make a mental note... staying positive in ANY situation is the best support you can give. We've had a handful of people bless us tremendously by expressing their joy over God choosing us. That's affirming, friends... warning me that I will lose my mind and my body is not. I am already aware of that! In fact, I partially already have.
Moving onward. One thing that has been an unexpected blessing in this premature hibernation is that I spend a lot of quality time with the littles. Usually, if I am home I am doing, because much is to be changed and created. This has not been the case.
My "doing" these days consists of snuggling, helping bandage up a tree-climbing fail,
catching a naked little girl in a tutu writing all over her legs with a pen,
listening to his story telling,
and making all kinds of animal sounds.
I'm not sure if this is preparation for when the twins arrive, being that I most likely will be holed up for a few months, or if it's just another calm before the storm. Regardless, I'm learning to accept my condition and be grateful for the moments that I would otherwise be missing.