Here we are again; another week and more expansion to behold!
This week, the welcomed sun has decided to emerge after a long and arduous winter. Similarly, after four months of being hidden under jumpers and baggy shirts, the time has finally arrived to get the fitted ‘bump’ tops and flowing skirts out. This, thankfully, coincides with our decision to go away for a weekend celebration on the eve of our anniversary and some much needed rest and respite.
The mere thought of being let loose on the English Riviera seaside has proved too much for me and in my zeal for new summer clothes, I even find myself getting a fitting for new bras and a maternity tankini (emphasis on tank)! Despite my better half being apparently grateful for the ever expanding rack, all I can think about is the aftermath when my mammaries turn into tube-socks and I can tie them around my neck in time for winter, post-birth. This must be avoided at all costs, so ‘comfortable fit with extra strong scaffolding’ support it is then please measuring lady!!
Once all titanium hoists are safely in place and elder children are packed off for an adventure weekend of their own, we head south with gay abandonment… well, cautious abandonment on my part as the babies have decided to sit on a particularly sensitive nerve. They’ve temporarily give me a ‘drunken man with wet trousers’ walk…ever so attractive.
The weekend turns out to be a roaring success, with much strolling, swimming, sight-seeing and talk of the twins going on.There is also excitement abound as I feel the small flutters of movement change to real rumblings of activity in there. The twins have obviously realized we’re on a break and have decided to entertain us with an impromptu boxing match which lasts most of Saturday.
Sunday morning unfolds with an amusing revelation that I can’t actually swim very successfully with an already huge bump to carry around with me. I gingerly step into the pool, and losing my balance, break into a very comedic doggy paddle; clumsily splash-splattering like a deranged Labrador. Himself is in such convulsions of hysteria at the sight, he has to get out of the pool and sit at the side for a few minutes to recover… oh the embarrassment.
Once suitably delighted from the getaway weekend; rested and back home, it is time for our obstetrics check-up with the NHS. It all seems to be happening this week on my little pregnancy update messages….the twins are “growing rapidly this week”, they are causing me to “feel off balance a little” (you don’t say..!), they “weigh around the same as a small turnip” (delightful image) and they may start to cause “ changes in your blood pressure”. This turns out to be true as I see the midwife and the obstetrician and they both tell me my blood pressure is through the roof. I feel as though I’m rattling along now and not entirely happy that every healthcare professional I meet gives me yet another barrel of medication “ because you’re 41 and expecting twins you see”. They may as well be saying ….”you ram-raided a charity shop and robbed an OAP “ by the discerning expressions on their faces. As I raise my eyes to the heavens with obvious despair, the doc makes an attempt at placating with a feeble “ I had a lady in here expecting twins when she was 58 before now”… gee tanks!
So here I go for another week.. heading for week 18 and armed with folic acid, multivitamins, aspirin, emla cream (anaesthetic for all the blood tests) and a partridge in a pear tree.
If I go missing, just look in the nearest pharmacy…
© Tess Egerton 2013