22 weeks

Everywhere I go now I get prego comments.  Usually, someone asks Emmy if she is Mommy's helper "because it looks like Mommy's going to need some help pretty soon."  They will then turn to me and ask if I know what we're having, to which I reply, "one of each."  People usually go buggy-eyed after they glance at Emmy & Hannah, and then wish me luck.  I always accept it cheerfully, because I am grateful to have all the luck anyone has to offer.  I know I am going to need it.

I'm not really used to people commenting on my physique, so it's been a little uncomfortable to converse about my size.  I had a conversation with the sales associate at a children's store earlier in the week, who asked Emmy if she was going to have a baby brother or baby sister.  We followed up with, "both!"  The lady looked me up and down and asked how far along I am.  When I told her 22 weeks, she announced that she was as big as I am when she was 7 months pregnant.  I kind of chuckled, unsure of what to say back.  In that time she said, "You're what, like, 3 months pregnant?"  Needless to say, I have a feeling I am going to have to become familiar with conversations about the size of my belly.  From what I understand, mothers pregnant with twins typically measure 10 weeks larger than mothers pregnant with singletons at the same gestation.  I've also learned that 20 weeks is when the difference really becomes apparent. I'm just grateful these two munchkins are growing!

Emmy got to feel her baby sister kick the other evening, which has prompted her to ask me frequently if "the baby brother and the baby sister are awake." If so, she likes to come cuddle and put her hand on my belly.  Melts my heart.  Sissy, of course, could care less, and doesn't cut me much slack at all.

I have been slowing down substantially (if that was even possible considering the pace I've been keeping since I found out I was pregnant.)  I am tired all of the time, and even the most basic physical tasks take a good deal of time to recover from.  I get short-of-breath by climbing the stairs or changing Sissy's diaper (which is a work-out for even the most able-bodied.)  My low blood pressure also leaves me woozy and needing to sit down frequently throughout the day.  It's been really frustrating to be so debilitated, but the ends justifies the means, and I am desperate to avoid anything (within my control) that would put me on bed rest.  To quote one of Nick's favorite youtube videos, "ain't nobody got time for dat."