'Glamour Bump': the adventures of a lumbering slutty hippo

There is no slowing the growth of the bump.  Most recent scan on Friday again showed the two little guys, this time more crammed in than ever.  The snuggly chaps are making their presence known with kicks and punches on a regular and daily basis as the battle between by abdominal wall and their increasing size continues.

As the bump challenges my wardrobe, I try to remember that clothes are what humans do when we can't go naked.  But I am approaching the point where clothes are what I do when the spandex allows.  I wore a dress other day that boss remarked was looking more like a shirt.  I find the process of getting dressed a pretty comical experience.  Thank goodness (and modesty-sake) for my mother, who has kindly sent some maternity trousers and other bits over the Atlantic.  With them and digging to the far back reaches of my wardrobe, I might just make it the 9 months without having to resort to going to Tesco in my bathrobe.

The other day, hubbie and I were planning to head to town to do some weekend errands and was stood in a towel in front of the closet wondering what I could cram into.  In the back, the way back, was a pink stretchy dress. I wore it once, years ago, on a night out.  Back then, it's shocking pink colour paired with a just-above the knee hemline made it sexy but not too slutty.  I also had some glorious pink heels that rounded it off nicely that night. I wondered how far the lycra would be prepared to go as I pulled it on.  The bump forced the hemline a little higher than before and I was unsure of the colour with my belly.

Noting my curled up lip, Thom asked what the problem was.  The bright pink, which first drew me in, now seemed reminiscent of Miss Piggy.  I said the first words that came to mind.  'I look like a slutty hippo.'
He giggled and told me to get my shoes on so we could get going.  I opted for Uggs rather than the glorious heels, of course.  So off we went.  Time to let go of vanity, I thought.

We made our way around town, picking up little things we needed, including a much larger clothes horse in anticipation of much greater amounts of laundry to come.  At the checkout, the girl at the till exclaimed, 'You look so glamorous! Glamorous but with a bump!'  I was stunned but she was full of compliments as she scanned away, asking questions about how far along I was and all things pregnancy related.

As we left, I grabbed a sneaking glance of myself in the shop windows.  Admittedly, I still saw slutty hippo.  The extra girth seems so foreign to me.  But one amazing thing I'm learning is that beauty is far more inclusive than we can ever imagine.  Life lesson in there somewhere.

Getting kinda crowed in there in the Temple of Womb

It's been a busy week in pregnant lady world and it looks like the little womb-raiders have been plenty busy, too.    The latest scan has revealed two good sized babies.  Right where they should be on the sonographer's growth charts.  Even more exciting, they are already learning the valuable life skill of posing for the camera.  Now and again at this week's scan, in between bouts of wrestling and kicking, they turned their little faces towards the 'camera' (or the sonographer's device) as if to say 'What you staring at?'

Looks like it is getting pretty snug there in the Temple of Womb for my little Indiana and Jones.  As you can see from the photo they no longer have the luxury of stretching space that they enjoyed at the first scan.  They are nestled in tight.  The one facing upside down had a little flurry of kicking against the walls, as if trying desperately to make more room.  All in good time, little person.

On the outside of the hive, I am indeed rapidly expanding.  The belly has become the unmistakeably round baby-belly bump.  I completed my Advanced Personal Trainer assessment today, and was super-pleased to pass considering I didn't demonstrate some exercises.  Lying on my front has suddenly become a no-go.  It feels like I have a beach ball under me.  On the plus side, my arm muscles are looking as good as ever and I can still lunge and squat to keep those legs strong and hot.

All the better as I plan to do a bit of posing myself and get some photos of fit pregnant me to help me market my new services.  As I can testify, being in physically good condition has been a great help.  Over the last few weeks I have loads of energy and although my stomach doesn't fit into my trousers any more, I don't have many other body complaints.

Will that change after tonight's dinner?  Thom has just popped the veggie-packed cottage pie into the oven and I might have a little avocado and cheese starter in a moment.  I have been ravenous and working my way through masses of food.  Feeding my muscles and my pretty, un-camera-shy babies, I suppose.

Twin-tastic!

Today was the day.  The first scan.  Nervous questions circulating in our brains leading up to this  day whipped up into a worry-cyclone by yesterday evening.  Would the baby be healthy?  How far along am I really?  Are all the body parts present and accounted for?  

Thom and I ate comfort food of beef chilli and big chunky chips in front of the TV, each in the silent knowledge that the other was wrestling their own anxieties.  A few friends sent supportive texts.  One read: 'Good luck tomorrow.  Hope everything is in pairs (except the head of course) :-)xx'.

My friend has flexed a pretty impressive and eerie 6th sense about me from the beginning of the pregnancy.  Before the missed period, before the test, he told me there was something strange with me.  I laughed it off then, but his extra-sensory perception was proved right.  After that and a few other incidents of him sensing all things pregnancy-related from a distance,  I could have seen the prophetic potential in his text.  Because today, to our extreme surprise, we indeed saw two of everything on the ultrasound screen.  Two hands, two legs, two feet.....on each baby.

So here they are, the two amazing little babies that were waiting inside to be discovered.  They were active, flipping and reaching for each other, giving the ultrasound operator a job to measure their length and check their age. They are 12 weeks and 6 days today, on the day we saw them for the first time.

The  next stage of this adventure is mapped.  There are 4 of us.  Thom has been browsing double-buggies on eBay and training courses that might propel his career into a twin-worthy wage bracket.  I have been imagining their little bodies, snuggled up and entwined, keeping each other company until we say 'hello' face-to-face.  Under the jittery excitement, there is fear, but I've decided that 'scary' is not a word I can use to describe things I have yet to live through.  Also, this news warrants an extra piece of pizza.  After all, I am eating for three.