The day before the day before (Sunday, Dec 23)
Ah, finally included in the (prospective) parent club, C and I had been invited to S's for a cookie making holiday casual thing Sunday night, but I wasn't feeling great, and just wanted to cocoon at home. C was not invested either way, so we stayed in. A recent resurgence of a tenuous appetite had somehow convinced me that some instant macaroni and fake cheese meal would stay down and taste good, so it was C on the couch, me on the loveseat (where I could kind of recline) and M&FC for the evening.
Well, it seemed my stomach was not ready for such culinary adventures, and sometime in the mid evening, I rushed to the bathroom. Not to throw up. If you know what I mean and I think you do. It seemed odd to me, as I had not had such an experience in probably 3 or 4 months, but just took it to be my body changing. Again.
I felt kinda crappy and went to bed at a decent hour.
The Day Before (Monday, the 24th)
Even though we weren't traveling, C wanted to get some work done before the holidays really started so he could just enjoy a quiet week of not going in to school, so off he went. I had nothing specific planned, (except scanning the internet for cheap last minute fares so I could go be with JK, should the worst happen with her father) so I slept in, sort of, and parked myself on the loveseat again. (It's about 15 years old, kinda ugly with a cheap slipcover on it, but damn if that wasn't the best spot for naps.) So I did just that. One or the other of the cats accompanying me.
It was grey and chilly out, and spent literally the entire day on the loveseat, wrapped in an awesome down comforter throw, and getting up every now and then to try to eat something. My milk craving had mostly passed, and I was sipping diet coke and eating potato chips, just to eat something. Maybe some ramen (I know, totally gross). And ice water. Bottles filled halfway with ice, the rest with water. It was still the only way I could bear it.
And so I spent my day, on the internet, watching crappy Monday, Christmas Eve day TV and looking for cheap fares. Every so often it occurred to me that I should do something. Get up. Shower. Run a load of dishes or laundry or something. But I was really tired. And really comfy, well ensconced. Somehow, the day escaped from me, and I was in the same position on the loveseat as I was when C got home.
I had been feeling kind of achy in my abdomen, nothing terrible, maybe just growing pains, or repercussions from the night before. It occurred to me that I hadn't felt much movement, but at just over 19 weeks, I comforted myself with the fact that I probably wouldn't feel much regularly this early anyway. My lower back was a little achy, kinda, and I shifted a bit throughout the day. It was only a little ache, and hell, I was pregnant with twins. (Oh, and that great big river? The one you thought was in Egypt? It runs through my small college town, apparently.)
There were a couple of moments I briefly considered calling my OB's office, but I really felt like, nah, I'm totally over reacting, and honestly, I was tired of being condescended to by the staff, and dismissed my the doctors. (to get fluids, I usually had to call up crying (or trying to cry) because I hadn't peed all day and had no tears to cry). The ache in my back was pregnancy, a normal symptom, of course. In my belly? Last night's apocalypse and growing twins. Now that I was eating more, they were probably growing more.
We spent a quiet evening, C and I, watching TV, him reaching over to my belly every now and then to say "BOYS!" or "Boys, you just keep working hard growing, okay? You're working so hard growing."
And we went to bed.
Sometimes I wonder if anything might have been different if I had called, if I would have been dismissed by the staff or even if I had come in. Joshua was probably already gone, along with most of his fluid. I wonder if we could have saved Jacob. Kept his sac from rupturing.
Hindsight isn't even 20/20. I really couldn't even imagine anything being wrong. I had just had a check up (cursory, though it may have been) and everything had seemed fine. I was eating, finally. We even had our first baby furniture: the bouncy seat that S got us.
We were almost halfway there.