I Can’t Do It

For the past 24 hours I have been seriously considering announcing that we were having twins as an April Fools joke, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I would feel way too dirty, and I do not need that kind of karma floating around.

Before you get all bent out of shape, I would not let you go on all day believe that we were having twins. I would post a giant APRIL FOOLS at the end of the post. Believe me, I would not want to have to tell family that I was not having twins. Can you imagine the ramifications? There would be cussing and tears involved, especially from my Mom, who PS and by the way wants ELEVEN grandchildren – ain’t happening.

Let me be clear… we are NOT having twins. We are also NOT having eleven kids. I am not interested in having a reality show based on the fact that I have a litter of children. I will entertain reality shows based on other concepts, but the last thing TLC needs is another litter of children running a muck.

In the spirit of April Fools, below is what my April Fools post would have said.

Pregnancy Week 19: Deuces Are Wild

You need to sit down for this. I’ve been sitting down for three days now, and I still don’t believe it. We’re having twins!

You heard me.

Deuce is two.

There are TWO babies in there.

TWO.

A few days ago we had an appointment, and the midwife ordered an ultrasound because, and I quote, “Something sounds fishy about with the heartbeat.” I guess that’s better than off/wrong/concerning/etc., but you never want a medical possessional to examine you and use the term “fishy” – ever. We went next door to the ultrasound room, and the midwife observed while the ultrasound tech chick went to work. The midwife nodded to herself and said, “Yep. That’s what I thought. Congratulations! You’re having twins!”

Fear. Panic. Shock. Disbelief.

Steve’s response was, “Noooo. We’re only having one. We’ve had two other ultrasounds, and they were all quite clear.”

Midwife, “Sometimes the hide behind each other. You can see for  yourself. There’s one and there’s one.”

Steve choking, “Twins!? We need a bigger car! A bigger house! A bigger paycheck! What do you do with TWO?”

Soon after we left the appointment, Steve snapped out of it, and went into planning mode. He always needs a plan, and with twins, the plan must be seriously planned. I have remained in total shock.

On one hand, it makes sense. I know there are twins in my family, so I’m more prone to twins. A lot of people who have twins get funky test results with at home kits. This pregnancy has been a million times harder than when I was carrying Moanna. It explains the headaches, the hip/neck/leg/toe/ everything pain. In explains the unbelievable exhaustion and thirst (I swear I’ve been drinking a gallon of water a day). The fact that I also look six months plus pregnant instead of not quite five months pregnant, makes total sense now.

On the other hand, TWINS!? Some one save me. That is a lot of nursing, pooping, crying, changing and holding, and not a lot of sleep. We’re talking zero sleep. I’m going to spend my entire life hooked up to a breast pump. When someone isn’t nursing, I’m going to be pumping. I need to find a way to rig a breast pump to work while I sleep. That’s the only way I’m going to ever get to sleep again. EVER.

What am I going to do with twins?! TWO babies!? TWO!?

APRIL FOOLS!!!!!!

PS. This picture is from when I was six months pregnant with Moanna. I thought the “Big Trouble” in the background was fitting, plus that’s the size I am now. I’m going to be huge before Deuce (singular) arrives.

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