Dream Log 1

Okay, so I learned last year while I was pregnant that it was probably a good idea to write down the more interesting dreams. Well, I've decided to blog them in an case, simply because a lot of the time they don't make any sense and it helps me to write them down. Besides, if I blog them, there's a higher chance that I may get some input. Not that anyone reads my insipid blogs as it is. Ha!

In any case, I don't remember a lot of my dream, but I remember one, distinct piece of it:

I remember that I was a child--a young boy (don't ask me why, I have no idea). In fact, it may not have even been me. I might have just been an observer of my dream. It doesn't matter. In any case, there was a young boy, and he seemed very afraid. Like he knew that someone was out to get him. At one point it seemed as if it were Christmas morning and rather than having the presents laid out under the tree, it seemed as if several of the presents were hidden about the house like Easter Eggs. The boy went searching for them, coming across spiderwebs in several locations with rather large, disgusting spiders in them. Bleh.

Moving on, the boy is interrupted by his father (who looked like my father). It's night, and the father appears to be moving something heavy outside, like trash bags or something like that. Either way, it didn't really make any sense. I remember that the boy felt like his dad was the enemy or something like that, but he knew that his dad didn't know it. It was like the boy knew more than the dad did.

It was later then, and the boy was outside of some type of water treatment area, in the road or something like that. I couldn't really understand, but Jeffrey Dean Morgan was there, looking awesome like he did in The Losers (teehee!). He was there for a meeting with the little boy or something like that, explaining that they were next, or someone was coming to get them or something strange like that.

After that the boy has an eventual confrontation with his father, and explains that he knows what the man is doing. Apparently he's been killing off the boy's "team", which I don't really understand--especially considering that it's just a kid. But apparently the dad is not really the one who's been doing it, and they work together to try to figure out who is. Meanwhile, there was a lot of blood and guts all around because somehow they were back at the water treatment area, and and someone had hacked up a body (not sure who's, but I think it was Jeffrey Dean Morgan) and the boy's mother is there, who looked like Kelly Preston. So, the boy tries to protect his mother and father--who knew what was going on but was not a part of it...I don't know--and there was this extreme sense of urgency and foreboding....and then my mom woke me up by plopping Delessi on my chest.

All in all, the dream didn't make much sense and it seemed a lot more intense than what I was able to write here, but I didn't know how to explain it in writing. I love when celebrities pop up in my dreams, though, which happens rather frequently come to think of it. Other than that, I really don't have much to say on the topic. And I wish I could explain more about why people were getting cut up, but I honestly don't know and I can't remember what it looked like in my dream. It was so random. But other than that, I think it was pretty awesome.

Let's Talk About "Glee"!!

So, I haven't stated this in my blog before, but I am a complete gleek. I love the show and I watch it religiously every Tuesday night. It all started one night when my sister had rented the entire first season from Blockbuster--where she used to work (by the way, I'd just like to take the time to say how AWESOME my sister is. Thank you, Ashley. You know why you're awesome!). In any case, she rented it and was watching it before season two came out. She asked me if I'd seen it, and I explained to her how much I hate reality shows (she has a tendency to watch them..."Jersey Shore", anyone? *gag*). Ashley quickly put my fears that another horrible reality show was created to rest, and she informed me that it was more like a musical than anything else. So, she put on the episode where Kurt teaches the football team to dance....and I was instantly in love. And believe me, at this point, my love for "Glee" far surpasses my sister's nuke-warm affection for it.

Let me start off by saying that I completely identify with Rachel. If you're unfamiliar with Rachel Berry, let's just say she's certainly not everyone's favorite sometimes. The "Rachel Berry (Glee") page on Wikipedia at one point describes her as a "...type-A, uber-talented, self-involved know-it-all who's usually alienating her classmates...". And yes, I suppose it's not a good thing, but a lot of the time I find myself feeling the exact same way that she feels when it comes to people. As a singer I sometimes feel a lot more entitled than other people to certain roles (I've been known to have a bf or two behind the scenes of choral concert)--or at least I used to when I was in school. And even now, I easily alienate myself from my co-workers and friends by being too abrasive. From the first time Rachel was introduced, placing a gold star by her name on the sign up sheet for Glee Club in Episode 1, I knew she was going to be my favorite character.

I'm pretty sure the reason why I'm so obsessed with "Glee" is because the world of "Glee" is almost exactly how I wished the world was in real life. Let me explain: In my ideal world, everyone would be able to sing and dance, everyone would randomly burst into song and harmonize perfectly and everyone's mutual respect for music and passion for performing would bring people together to make a spectacular show. I wouldn't necessarily want to be the Rachel Berry of my world, but being a part of something special like that? Yeah, that's definitely important to me.

I suppose I've thought about this way too much. But let's face it, it doesn't look like "Glee" is going anywhere any time soon (thank G-d). The reason it's such a big success is because there's too many crappy reality shows on television and people want a break from real life. People want to feel happy and inspired again and I think "Glee" does that for people. It's like "Dancing With the Stars"--people just want to have a "feel-good" show that they can watch, and maybe even spend some time with their families while they watch it.

Fair thee well, fellow gleeks!

...it's okay. I'm certified!

Fighting Writer's Block

Well, there's been a lot going on recently. Things have been pretty busy, but then what mother of twin infants isn't busy? Of course, I'm thankful for all of the help I have with my family, their father's family and my friends.

But I suppose the thing that's been bothering me the most is that I haven't been able to write. I have a lot that I have to do with my book. It's horrible to have this huge idea, have everything planned out....and then simply be too distracted or tired (there's a thousand excuses) to just sit down and write. It drives me bananas, because when I do actually sit down to write, I forget what I've been writing the next time I get to it, or I'll re-read what I've been writing and it's not as good as I hoped it would be.

I'm sure that what I have to do is just sit down and force myself to do it, but when I do that I don't feel creative. Blah. I really wish I knew how to get over this horrible bought of writer's block. It's not fair--because I role play and things of that nature on IMVU and on AIM and any story-lines I happen to be working on there I do great....it's just having to sit down and do it by myself, I suppose.

Argh. I need to be more focused!

To My Children . . .

Falling leaves circling,
  No sound, save the wind's sweet music.
Laughter and tears,
  Trials and tribulations.
Sunlight shines like angel's song,
  to dance upon our faces.
Spinning until we're lost,
  Falling like the leaves.
Finally, eruptions of laughter.
Peace and Calm.

Trying to Make It

So, yesterday morning started off like any other day. I woke up, fed the babies, let them play while I got ready, got their stuff all packed to spend the day with their Daddy, got them dressed and loaded up into the car, and dropped them off at their Dad's house. Everything was going fine. I kissed them goodbye, and headed off to work.

My ex's house happens to be located near a school and as I was driving off, I noticed all of the kids with their back-packs and all that heading into the building.

Out of nowhere, I had a massive panic attack. I started thinking about all of the things that I'd have to get for them down the road: new school clothes, school supplies, back-packs, school pictures, prom tickets...all of that stuff that I know they'll need or want. Then I realized that, given my situation, I would never be able to provide for my kids the way that I want to.

I mean, I'm a lifeguard. Lifeguards don't exactly bank out every month and as it is, even with WIC and Medicaid and other government assistance, we've been getting by. I don't want to be that type of mother. I mean, realistically, I'd have to work two jobs just to put food on the table, keep clothes on their back, and (hopefully) keep gas in the car--and even then I'd never get to see my kids.

I refuse to be that type of mother.

So, I've decided to go back to school. I've always had a natural talent for web design and graphic design, and I know of a credited tech school where I'll be able to go to school and work while the kids are still small. I'm going to be paying out of my ears eventually to pay off my loans, but I have to do this. I know it's a long way off, at least it can seem like it, but I'll be able to finish school by the time the girls are starting Pre-K.

I've been so passive in my life, waiting for things to happen rather than making them happen. I dropped out of college because I had no idea what I wanted to do, despite my talents, and all I did was screw myself in the end. I can't keep doing what I'm doing. I have to take the offensive in my life and that is certainly what I plan to do.

Working My A-- Off . . . Literally!

Okay, so here's the thing; I posted a blog a while back that pertained to weight loss and the obese. Well, I'm pretty over-weight now. I'm 5' 7" and I weigh over 180lbs. Before I had my kids, I was around 150-160lbs, so I was never exactly "skinny", but I liked my shape and the way my clothes fit. Now, I've become mildly obsessed with getting fit and getting back to a good shape.

I said before how easy it should be to maintain a good weight and how to lose weight if you stick with it and maintain a healthy lifestyle. Well, that's what I'm going to do, and I hope it works. It had always been pretty easy for me to maintain my weight before, so I know that I'm going to have to work pretty hard to lose all of my weight now.

If you read my blog before, I had 7 steps to follow to maintain a healthy lifestyle, so that's what I'm going to do. The biggest thing is that I'm not really going to hard-core diet. I'm going to watch what I eat, yes, and I'm not planning on having a cheese burger every day, but I'm not going to cut out everything I like and starve myself to achieve my ideal weight loss.

I've joined a gym. I'm going to try to go every day, and I've already gone the past two days. I go to Planet Fitness, which is only $20 a month (they also have a membership that is only $10 a month) and it's right next to my house and there's a couple by where I work so I can go there almost every day, which is what I want to do. I'm going to see a personal trainer on Thursday (it's free at my gym) and I'm going to work on a regiment to get rid of my chubby belly, my "thunder thighs", and I'm going to try to increase my upper body strength. Mostly, I just want to get into great shape.

Between work, my girls and the gym, I'm pretty sure life is going to get pretty exhausting, but I know that I can do it, and I will. I'll post updates and let you know how it goes, and everything should work, and I'm willing to work as hard as I have to without killing myself or losing my enjoyment for life, love and food. :)

Feeling Like A Minor Character in My Own Life

Lately I have been realizing how desperate I am to control what people percive me as. I know how I want to be remembered, I know the types of people I want to be around, and I know who I want to be . . . and I couldn't be further from it.

I want to be known as someone who is smart, quick, witty, mysterious, confident, funny, charming, silly, adventurous, sexy, kind, generous, layered, and ecclectic. However, I'm pretty sure I only come off as a loud werido with a habbit of being an asshole.
Obviously, that is not something to be proud of.

I feel like that fellow Norm from "Yes Man" who is so desperate for friendship from the main character, Carl, and he comes off as weird and a little pathetic and sad. But because it's a movie, we find it hilarious. I completely relate to poor Norm. I try so hard to be "cool" and fun that I come off as kind of a retard. And unfortunately, that only attracts other retards.

Don't get me wrong, I have great friends and I love them all. They're all so different and all of them have pieces of their personalities that I really want to encorporate into myself but unfortunately it doesn't really work that way, and I'm sure that I am their weird friend Jen whom they can only stand to be around for a limited amount of time.

I know the types of guys that I'm attracted to, but I seem to repel them and attract ones like me which is hardly a recipe for a successful relationship. Or they're already involved with someone else and I just can't go to that place anymore.

I just feel like such a small, strange, little character in my own life and I just wish that I had what it takes to be the leading lady -- especially of my own story.

Life As A Zombie

Okay, this isn't actually an entry about what it would really be like to be a zombie--although that would be quite interesting (and by interesting, I mean: friggin' AWESOME), so for those of you who were expecting that, sorry. :\ Actually, this is about having to adjust my life and learning how to run on a LOT less sleep than I am used to getting.

Let me start off by saying that G-d blessed me with a gift. That gift is the ability to sleep anywhere and everywhere, and to fall asleep quickly and soundly. I have been known to fall asleep standing in line, on the job, and occasionally under the tables of a bowling alley. Some may view that as a curse, but not I. I am proud of my ability, as sleeping is one of my favorite things in the world to do. In fact, I have been known to marathon sleep--which is to sleep happily all day without interruption except to eat and perhaps pee. I usually get a lot of sleep and I love it.

Now, having said that, when one has twins--or even one new baby--your sleeping patterns become seriously disrupted.

As such, I am now a living zombie.

For me, the normal number of hours of sleep I'm used to getting is somewhere around 9-10, but now? I'm lucky if I get 6. And to some of you, that may seem like a lot.

Well--it's not.

I've been sleeping at work on my breaks a lot more. I take a nap whenever I can, which isn't often because when I'm not with my kids, I'm doing house work, or running errands, working, or finding time to spend with my friends. Life has become one big blurr and only because my children (who, thank the Lord, sleep through the night and are quite good at it) go to sleep at 8pm and wake me up at 5am-7am.

I feel like I'm going to die any minute now.

In fact, I could be sleeping right now.

Goodnight.

Balancing Act

So, my babies are about 3 months old, and life has been getting back on some sort of "normal" track. I mean, as normal as life gets when you're a single mother of identical twins. I love it, and I really love being a mom, but sometimes it can get really hard, but not for the reasons I would have ever thought. It's hard for me to leave them--I feel horribly guilty whenever I leave them, or rather, I feel guilty for wanting to. It's strange. I mean, every mother needs a break now and then, I'm sure. It's so hard for me to just sit with them at home all day by myself. I love them, and I want to take care of them, but I'm so thankful that I have a job now.

Oh, yes. By the way, I got my job back at Aquatica as a lifeguard. I love it so much and to be honest, it's the only job I've ever had that I actually want to keep, which is a little new for me. But it feels so good to be able to get away and kind of provide for my children. I mean, I don't really make a lot and I can't do very much, but everything I can do for them makes me feel like I'm actually doing something right--which is a very big deal considering I've never really had any kind of straight priorities.

What I really feel guilty about is going out at night and things like that without my girls. I feel horrible because I still want to go out and do things, and it's hard to balance that with being a mother. I mean, I still have friends and I still like to have fun outside of the house but it's kind of hard when I go out and have a great time without them--especially when I love them as much as I do.

It's just hard sometimes, I guess.

But all of those awkward feelings that I was having before are officially gone. Sometimes it's hard for me to grasp that these are my babies, but only because they're so beautiful and sweet. I just can't believe that this is my life sometimes, and I've never been happier.

Second Guesses and Awkward Feelings

Before I get into the meat and potatoes of this blog, I'd just like to throw in a little disclaimer. I love my children more than anything. I love being a mother. Through the late-night feedings, the fussiness, and the dirty diapers, nothing makes me happier than when I'm holding my happy babies in my arms, looking into their big, brown eyes with their long, fluttering eyelashes or when I can soothe their cries simply by walking into their line of vision.

That being said, sometimes I feel a bit detached and I'm not sure if that's normal.

The second I had my children in my arms, I felt that instant connection--that bond that every mother prays she'll feel once she sees her children. Luckily, I didn't have hours and hours of a painful labor to dull any of those feelings, and all I felt was a surge of absolute protective, motherly love.

What kind of scares me is that I don't feel that way all of the time. Even when I have one of my girls in my arms, or when I go about the motions of the day--feeding them, doing their laundry, changing them, etc--I don't feel like a mother. Sometimes I feel detached from them, like I'm just taking care of them for someone else or I'm an aunt or something. It's such an awkward feeling. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm their mother, that these little girls are going to be with me for the rest of my life and I'm going to be taking care of them and there's never going to be a break from it (even though sometimes I feel like I can really, really use one, haha).

I suppose it will sink in a little bit more as time passes by but I think what I'm afraid of is that instead of sinking in, it will just feel more and more unattached. I can't really imagine that happening, of course, but the fear is still there sometimes. Luckily, they're only a month old, so I have years and years to sit on the topic and just let it eat away at me until I go mad. Just kidding.

Until everything settles with me, though, it's not that difficult to deal with. I mean, I still have those radiating moments of pure, motherly love. Not to mention I have the sweetest, most adorable, beautiful, little girls on the planet. <3 But of course, I'm kind of bias. :)

Who Knew This Could Happen?

To all of those people who have said to me over the years: "You'll feel differently when it's your children" . . . bring on the I-told-you-so's. I never in a million years could have expected motherhood to be like this. My entire perspective and thought-process has seem to do a 180° in the span of an hour and I've never been happier in my life.

To recap the past few weeks:
My children, Delessi May and Rosalie Marie, were born at 5:33pm (in the same minute!) on March 2, 2010 via elective cesarean. I developed postpartum preeclampsia after my babies were born and everyone was afraid that I was going to have a stroke or something because my blood pressure was so high. Eventually my blood pressure went down a little and after 3 days in the hospital my babies and I were able to come home. Since then my recovery has been extremely swift, despite a brief scare with Rosalie they have been 100% healthy, happy babies and I'm feeling better than I have ever felt in my life.

I had never imagined that motherhood would be like this for me. I had heard how there's the instant bond between mother and child and that the love the mother feels can be sudden and all-consuming. I never really believed that it would be like that for me. I never expected that I would just be able to look at my girls and start tearing up because they're such amazing, perfect, little angels. I never, in a hundred years, would have imagined that I would have a maternal bone in my body. But all of my doubts and assumptions were quickly evaporated into thin air the moment I saw my girls in the OR. I literally broke down in tears of joy the minute I heard them cry and ever since then I've been in love.

Everything in my life seems easier. Even being a mother--a task that I imagined would be daunting and that I would have a lot of trouble bonding with my children because, A: I had never even held a newborn in my life and had no idea how I was going to learn how to be a mother, and B: I've never really been a baby person to begin with--has become as natural to me as breathing. Despite the juggling needed with twins and the exhaustion that comes of it, I don't feel overwhelmed and feel so blessed because the girls seem to be happy, contented babies. They're rarely fussy, and even when they are, I'm not alone. Between my mother, my father, my sister and occasionally my brother-in-law, I have a great support system this far and I never seem at a loss for help when I need it.

Honestly, I just never thought it would be like this--that this could happen to me. From the second I saw them, I could never imagine a world without them in it. All I want is to be there for them and to be good for them. As someone who has always suffered from some kind of emptiness and darkness within my mind, it all seems filled with joy and light. I just don't think the way that I used to anymore. And all of the drama and the seemingly daunting aspects of everyday life seem so miniscule now that I can't imagine why everything seemed so hard before. I look at my life before March 2nd and I don't even know that person anymore, and it feels great.

Below are just a few pictures of the girls. I obviously have a lot more, but I just wanted to post up a few here because I'm so proud of them.


Rosalie and Delessi


Delessi


Rosalie


Nessie and Rosie with Mama

Fighting Obesity--Really???

In case you were as of yet unawares, the obesity rate throughout the world is at an all-time high, and America seems to be at the fore-front. Apparently, over the past twenty years there has been a drastic increase in the obesity rate in America (ironically enough, that spans my life...I just thought that's interesting). I found a webpage with an interesting article titled, Obesity and Overweight for Professionals: Data and Statistics which defines obesity as "a body mass index (BMI) of 30 or greater. BMI is calculated from a person's weight and height and provides a reasonable indicator of body fatness and weight categories that may lead to health problems".

The only reason I even bring this topic up, is because it reminded me of something I was talking about with my sister yesterday.

For a little back story, let me start by saying that I am the only person in my immediate family--and most of my extended family, from what I can tell--that I know of who is not over-weight (however, right now, I feel like a cow because I'm 9 months pregnant with twins, but that really doesn't pertain to the topic at hand). I've always had a bit of a weight complex, mainly because everyone around me was over-weight and I was always scared of being fat. Being 5'7" and fighting heredity has made keeping my weight at least average very important to me, I suppose.

Because I've never really struggled with a weight problem, I will go on the record as saying that I can't really see things from my sister's point of view, but I can't imagine it's been easy for her--especially lately with her trying to lose weight and get into good shape.

Yesterday, I decided to go to Wendy's because--being pregnant--I was super-craving one of their new fish fillet sandwiches. I got the largest size, but didn't really want my fries (just my sandwich and my ginormous coke...yum >^^<) so I'd share them with my sister. While she and I were talking about various things over lunch, she suddenly brought up fast-food in relation to parenting--at least for her.

"My children aren't ever going to have McDonalds or any of that stuff until they're older--like grown kids..." she declared.

I was kind of shocked to hear her say this, especially since McDonlads has become slightly more health-conscious with their variety of sides for children and what-not, so I replied, "That really doesn't make sense. That's like the lady who blamed McDonalds for her dumbass spilling her hot coffee on herself."

I mean, am I wrong? I seriously can try to understand her point of view--she's overweight and doesn't want her children to have to deal with the emotional and physical pain of that condition--but really, she's going to push it that far? It just doesn't make sense to me. Yes, fast-food has a tendency to be unhealthy and loaded with fat and all of that...but that doesn't mean that you have to eat it to the point where you're morbidly obese. Or, I mean, you can exercise and have an active life-style so that you can eat what you want--within reason--and still maintain a healthy weight.

I know my sister isn't the only person who feels this way on the planet.

I understand, it's easier to blame "The Man" rather than take responsibility for the fact that a person would eat like a glutton--unable to tell when his/her body had had enough--and then proceed to lounge around in front of the television or computer rather than get outside and ride a bike or go for a swim or something.

I'm not going to say I'm perfect by any means, but I do know my body and I know that obesity runs in my family. I'm not skinny--like I said, I'm happy being average--and perhaps, according to some, I could stand to lose a few pounds anyway, but I'm not going to place the blame on outside influences. It was my decision to go to Sonic and get a double cheese burger, tots, and a rootbeer float. No one twisted my arm. (Oo. That sounds really good right now, by the way.) It was me who decided to sit on my butt in front of my computer for two hours playing Shaiya online rather than going outside for a nice walk or something.

I suppose there are tons of excuses people can make for why they are the way they are. But I'm happy for my sister, at least. She decided to stop making excuses and has been working out, watching what she eats, and is trying to maintain a healthy lifestyle while still doing the things she enjoys. Good for her. I'm assuming her goals are realistic, and they seem to be, and she seems happier and has more energy now which is great. I just feel bad for the people who are still sitting in front of the TV, salivating over a Denny's commercial while they're eating an entire bucket of fried chicken by themselves.

It may seem harsh, I know, but this isn't something that I'm afraid to say to someone's face--which I have--so I have no problem posting it online. I'm sure I may have ruffled a few feathers, but I do want to help more than anything. Below is my own list for living a healthy lifestyle--realistically-speaking, that is--from an average person, and not some self-proclaimed fitness guru or anything like that. Also, after my babies are born, I'll also put up my regiment for myself for losing the near-50 pounds that I've gained during my pregnancy, and hopefully that will help some people out there, too.

1. Balance


Everyone talks about balance--whether it's your diet or your mind, and it's true. But let me break down how I view balance. Don't be afraid of food; eat what you enjoy within reason. Don't starve yourself or anything crazy like that. If you decide you want a Big Mac or something, have one--but don't over indulge, and balance out that delicious treat by taking the stairs instead of the elevator or going for a long walk. You don't have to kill yourself at a gym, but manage your time wisely when it comes to "relaxation".


2. The Non-Diet


Dieting can be a challenge, so you can't think of it as a diet because somehow that puts everything a little farther out of reach for you--I don't know why, but I know it does. Like I said before, don't starve yourself, but know when you're full. If you have a tendency to eat a lot before your full because your stomach is large at this point, then fill it with stuff that's good for you and easy for your body to process like grains, proteins, vegetables...and trust me, they can be prepared in a way so that they taste good to you. You don't have to sacrifice as much as you think when it comes to just watching what you eat.


3. Toss the Scale


I know, it sounds crazy, but the bathroom scale is a big, fat liar, and it hates you. Okay, that's a little extreme. But seriously, the scale can lie to you. If you're mixing a fitness routine with a diet, the muscle-mass you gain weighs more than the fat that you may be losing, so the numbers aren't going to add up right. If you're simply dieting or something, the numbers will depress you if they aren't going down as fast as you would like and it'll only make you want to take drastic measures which may not be the best thing. Instead, base your weight loss around what you see in the mirror, or what your friends say, or even by how your clothes are starting to fit. Trust me, it feels a lot better when you hear someone say "Wow, have you been losing weight? You look great!" rather than what those bitchy numbers on the scale say.


4. H2O


Drink lots of water. That's an easy one. You don't have to substitute water for every drink you have a day but your body needs and craves it. A lot of people don't know what the natural thirst for water feels like so they'll try to satisfy it with a coke or tea or something, and it won't work. Don't underestimate how satisfying a bottle of water can be.


5. Exercise...duh


Okay, let's face it. Not everyone can or even wants to live at a gym, and I don't know about you, but stationary bikes and crap like that drive me nuts--I mean, all of that peddling and you go nowhere? Screw that. Do something that you will actually enjoy as a form of exercise. Go to the park and walk around for a while and maybe feed some ducks. Go swimming. Play with your kids outside. Go out dancing or something. Seriously, just keep yourself active. Maybe you'll actually find yourself wanting to spend less time in front of the TV or computer.


6. Set Realistic Goals for Yourself


If you're 5'7" like me, chances are that you're never going to weigh 90 pounds and be a size 0 and there's a good chance you could kill yourself if you try to attain that. Everyone's body is different. Talk to your doctor about setting goals ideal for your body type--or just Google like a fiend. The most important is that you get to a place that you are content with, whether you need to lose 10 pounds or 110. Just keep the goal within a healthy reach.


7. Be Happy


To me, this seems to be the most important thing. A lot of people are depressive eaters, or eat when they get bored. Fill your time with something that you really enjoy doing. If you suffer from depression or have depression symptoms, talk to a doctor. I've noticed that when you feel good your desire to be active increases and you'll actually want to get out there and not sit around all day. Even if you have a lot of stress in your life, if you find a way to let go of that stress and just take a moment for yourself--whether it's playing a game with your kid, joking with a friend, walking your dog, or reading a book--you'll feel better about a lot of things and your goals will seem more attainable.

I know a lot of what I've said can be argued with "Well, that's great, but it's easier said than done." To be honest, that's true. It's very easy to write out a list of what I think is a "healthy lifestyle" and tell everyone to follow it. Taking the first step to altering your life is always difficult and for some it may never happen--especially depending on what that first step may be. I also know that some people are mentally and emotionally stronger than others, but that doesn't really mean that things are easier for them. Everything is relative and you have to apply what people say and the advice that people give in a way that pertains specifically to you. Sometimes, that simple alteration can make everything a lot easier for you.

My First Late Night Hospital Visit...

So, last night was kind of an adventure. As some of you may know, my baby shower was yesterday, and it turned out to be a really lovely event. I was thankful my family and friends were able to come and that I was able to participate in the day despite blinding back-pains and horrible swelling of my feet. During the shower, I remember saying something along the lines of, "Well, thank God I made it past my shower--that was my big concern--now they can come out!" jokingly to my sister. Well, apparently, that was a really bad choice of words.

Around 10-something, I started having my normal Braxton-Hicks contractions. They weren't painful at all, just the normal tightening of my stomach. Of course, I've been having bad pains for a while now throughout my entire body, so I didn't think much of it when these pains started spreading to my back. To be honest, it wasn't until I got up to go to the restroom at around 11:45pm that I started having shooting cramps throughout my pelvis. I figured walking would help since it usually did, but every time I seemed to move they only got worse and my contractions started getting painful. By 1am this morning, I was sitting in the living room with my mother, watching NatGeo (National Geographic, in case you didn't know) and my contractions were coming about ever 10-11 minutes and they were bareable, but I had a lot of pain in my lower back, my groin was hurting badly, my pelvis, and everything seemed to radiate down into my thighs. Nothing really seemed to help the pain ebb, either.

By this time, it was time to consult the baby books and read over symptoms of false labor, pre-labor, and active labor. (As a side note, I feel so bad for my mother, who must have been shitting her pants, but managed to keep it together. She's usually very emotional and quick to get excitable, so the fact that she managed to remain calm is a huge stepping stone for her, and I'm glad to learn that come my actual delivery, she might not fall to pieces.) My mother and I scoured the texts, trying desperately to determine my symptoms. Unfortunately, since all pregnancies and subsequent deliveries are different, no one can exactly explain what a contraction is "supposed" to feel like, so all of the books say the same thing: they list off symptoms and say "If you experience any of these symptoms, contact your doctor or midwife right away," so that's what I did. As a result, at around 1:40am, my mother, father, sister and I were on our way to the Winne Palmer Hospital for Women & Babies.

After parking, being sent to triage and registering (which, blessedly, only took a few minutes), my mother and I were escorted to a oddly-shaped--though not unpleasant--room where I was to be tested and monitored. The lengthy processes of monitoring my identical twins' near-perfectly synced heart beats, the strength of my contractions, and putting me on an IV Drip took nearly 2 hours in itself, while my sister and my father waited in the triage waiting center for any news from my mother, who was in the room with me. After being monitored for a while, the doctor was finally able to come in and check me, and told me that I wasn't dilated at all--thank goodness--but that I would still have to be monitored for awhile because my blood pressure had been a little high and my contractions were still coming regularly. So, after spending another hour being monitored, I was given a lovely pill that quieted my abdomen's spazams and, blessedly, induced drowsiness.

As it turns out, my pre-labor pains were perfectly normal, my blood pressure turned out to settle back down, and the fear that I may have had preclampsia was finally resolved. Apparently, due to the fact that I'm having identical twins, it's a lot easier for my abdominal wall to be set off into contractions than it would be for a singleton gestation. As a result, any slight dehydration, being overly-active or the babies shifting about too much can trigger spazams that will turn into contractions that, though they are painful and feel just like true labor contractions, will not induce actual labor since that is strictly horomonal. They wrote me a prescription for a lovely drug that will cause these spazams relax when I have them and will help the pain to ebb (and also knock me out, which is great, considering I have most of my contractions and pains in the early morning hours anyway).

All in all, the event wasn't entirely unpleasant, as I learned how to differentiate my contractions and help to ease the false contractions should I have another episode before I'm ready to deliver. The only thing I really wish I could have helped was the simple fact that my poor sister and father were left in a waiting room for nearly four hours, and that my mother was extremely anxious and nervous for me and her grandbabies. As a result, I've come up with a few helpful tips when dealing with waiting rooms and/or waiting in a hospital room:

1. Invest in Bringing an Electronic Device


Whether your cell phone has games or you have an amazing playlist on your MP3 player, this is an electronic era. If the hospital allows electronics (some still don't), make sure that you have your Nintendo DS or something on hand to help pass the time. If you're stuck in a waiting room it can help time fly and help ease your worries or fears in between updates on the patient.


2. Read, Read, Read


Let's face it--it's a waiting room. There are going to be magazines and stuff on hand. But magazines can only help so much. Bring a book or a comic or something with you that you actually want to read. This is also helpful if you're actually in the waiting room with the patient, too, as it will keep your mind busy enough so that you may distract yourself from worrying a bit.


3. Hangin' Wit' Yo' Peeps


Although some people may find themselves alone in a waiting room, if you came with someone or someone you know is there (even someone you may not be particularly fond of), then chatting idly to pass some time definitely helps. Again, it serves a distraction from worrying, and you may learn something you didn't know before. If you're in the room with the patient, and he/she is able to talk, then DO it. It won't only help you, but it will make things easier on the patient as well!


4. Food


Sometimes hospitals don't allow food in waiting rooms or in hospital rooms (and if the patient isn't allowed to eat, you shouldn't eat in front of him/her, btw), but if they do, it's always nice to have a snack handy because you know that your stomach is gonna' start grumbling eventually. Not to mention that if you wind up being hungry without anything to satisfy you, it's gonna' make waiting around seem a lot longer.


5. Updates--and I don't mean on Twitter


If you're in the room with the patient and learn new information--whether it's good or bad--make sure you keep those in the waiting room informed. That's why they're there, waiting for information or to be allowed back into the room that you're already in. Trust me, any news is better than sitting around, worrying and dredging up the worst possible outcomes of a situation.


6. Make the Best of It


I know you're tired--it's probably 3am somewhere and you're stuck in a hospital when all you want to do is go to sleep--but try to stay positive. It's the best thing that you can possibly do for yourself. Though it may seem hard, you'll find that if you try to keep a smile on your face you'll set yourself at ease, and even those around you--especially if you're with the patient and, let's face it, he/she really needs to be kept as relaxed as possible.

Waiting Impatiently

So, I've kind of just been trying to deal with my own boredom lately. The unfortunate thing is that I keep thinking of things to do but I either hurt too badly to do them, don't have money/gas, or things just fall through. It's driving me a little crazy, but I suppose it could always be worse. The bright side is that my friends have unknowingly been lifting my spirits. They've been calling and texting out of the blue and it's really helped me to know that I'm being thought of and that people are taking the time to check up on me. It's funny, because I really didn't even realize how much I was missing my friends until they started calling out of the blue.

I know it seems kind of archach (did I spell that right?) to have locked myself away for most of my pregnancy, but I can't help it. I'm sure a big part of it has to do with the fact that I haven't been working so I have no money, but honestly I just don't like going out right now. First of all, I'm huge and super-obviously pregnant, and I hate it when people stare at me. Second of all, it's very hard for me to move around and stuff like that because all the weight I've gained is really hard on my joints and bones. I suppose that's it. I mean, all of my friends and stuff know that I'm pregnant--it's not like it's some big, huge secret--but I don't want to be seen like this, I guess. It makes me feel a little vain to admit that, but I can't really help it, and it'll be over soon.

Other than that, I've just really been dealing with helping getting things ready for my baby shower this Saturday. I've taken my maternity photos, and they've turned out great. Right now they're out being retouched and printed but I saw the raw contact sheets of a few photos and they really look great. I'm really pleased with the work done. Baby showers have never really been my cup of tea, but I guess I'm sort of looking forward. I'm not going to lie, I have one of those personalities that kind of scream "look at me, look at me!" but I actually really don't like being the center of attention at all.

There really hasn't been a lot for me to do lately as a whole, but I've mostly been looking forward to the things I'll be able to do after the babies are born, and getting ready for them. In the mean time I've just been doing what I can do to stay busy, such as making plans and stuff for my vlog that's on YouTube at BlackCanaryII (who incidentally is my favorite super heroine). Unfortunately, I haven't really felt up to updating lately, simply because I feel like crap all of the time, ha. But luckily updating my blog on here isn't actually very difficult. But, when you're in my position, it's helpful to have some tips on hand for dealing with this strange "pregnancy boredom":

1. Try to Stay Active


If you can, go for walks or swim or something that will keep your body in motion. For me, I tend to walk a lot because right now it's too cold to swim. If you're doctor has advised against walking, I would suggest floating around in a pool or at least flexing your limbs.


2. Read Up


Invest in a lot of books or magazines. Make sure you don't only get pregnancy magazines and books, though, because they'll just make you even more impatient about having your baby. Read what you wanted to read before you got pregnant and didn't have time for.


3. Don't Underestimate the Power of the Internet


I know it sounds dumb, but the internet has seriously been saving my life. Between the swarms of videos on YouTube and the games and networking on Facebook and the like, you can fill your day. Although, if you can help it, I wouldn't spend all day on the computer.


4. Netflix or Blockbuster


...Can be your best friend. You know how your friends may have suggested movies for you to see but you never got around to it? Now's a great time to get around to it. Movies help pass time and trust me, you'll be thankful for it.


5. Keep a Journal


Or a blog or something of the like. If you don't have a lot of people to talk to, or feel like you don't, then a Journal or Blog or anything simular is a great way to vent and say what you need to say. If you decide to keep your writings private, it's the perfect opportunity to get out everything that you may be too afraid to say aloud, or are afraid of being judged for. Trust me, pregnancy is hard, and we all have had less than rainbow-bright thoughts.


6. Keep Your Phone Close


Keeping your phone on you is a smart idea, and not just for emergency reasons. Trust me, at some point you're going to need to reach out and will need your friends. And when your friends call or text you, you'll feel good to know that there's still someone that you can count on when you're feeling blue or bored out of your mind.

Nerve-Wracking Weekend: Fears for Baby

This has been a bit of a trying few days. I didn't want to blog about it because, to be honest, I was trying really hard not to go crazy thinking about it. Now that I have some answers now, though, I'd like to share how I've been dealing with the agony of not knowing whether or not one of my babies was alive for the past two days.

It all started a few days ago. Friday night, I believe it was, actually. Possibly Saturday night--I'm not really good with time-frames and things like that. But basically I was hanging out with a friend for a majority of the afternoon and early evening. We weren't really doing much. Actually, I was sitting most of the time while he skate-boarded and played with some of the kids in the neighborhood. Nothing that would over-excite me or anything like that, as I am supposed to be "taking it easy".

Not too long after it finally got dark, I started having very painful cramps in my lower abdomen. They didn't really feel painful enough to be contractions, so I didn't think much of it (and to be honest, my pants were getting a little too tight, so I figured that might have something to do with it). I just kept adjusting to the strange non-contractions and delt with it. Eventually, they got so bad that I needed to get up and walk around, which seemed to help. I wasn't feeling a lot of movement from either baby, and it started to worry me although I did my best to keep calm. A friend of mine recently had a baby, so I talked to her, asking her to describe her "fake" contractions, which she did, and it set me at ease some, and after walking around for a little while I seemed to feel a lot better, and eventually went home.

That's when things seemed to get worse.

I still felt no fetal movement from my babies. And the cramps were getting worse. I changed my pants, worried that those may be the cause of a lot of my pains, and once I was comfortable, the cramps did seem to ease up. However, there was this strange pain that I had at the front of my stomach. It was like when you have a bruise and you touch it--it gives off a very distinct, small pain to let you know that you have a bruise there. Only...the bruise felt like it was inside my stomach, and I had no discoloration on my skin that may have been proof of a bruise. I did start feeling some movement, but only on one side of my belly, and where that strange bruised feeling was located was right where my other baby should have been wiggling with her sister.

It was very hard to not think about it all of the time, but I knew that panicking would only make the situation worse. I also knew that it would be absolutely ridiculous to call me doctor after 9pm on a Saturday when I had an appointment Monday morning. Surely I would have to feel something by then, right?

Apparently, not. All Sunday, I felt nothing on that side of my belly.

To be honest, it's very hard to tell with twins who's moving where. My babies have been in this awkward "ying-yang" position (one breech, one vertex), kind of wrapped around each other at an odd tilt for a majority of my pregnancy. Basically, when they kick, they're kicking each other in the face or the side of the head. It also makes kicks hard to differentiate from punches and the like.

Luckily, when I went to the doctor early this morning at 7am, everything seemed to be fine. I marveled at my ability to hold out and not go insane--although I won't lie, I did lose some sleep over the ordeal. It just amazes me how I managed to keep as calm as I did. There was really no research that I could do on my weird bruise-like pain, and to be honest I'm still not quite sure what it is. I'm thankful that everything is normal, and that despite the lack of strong movement, my little girl is doing fine and her heartbeat is strong. Apparently, she's face down, which accounts for the lack of movement--something I told myself over and over again in attempt to keep myself from going nuts.

The biggest reason I'm sharing this story is because of the extreme relief that I feel, and to let those of you out there reading this that sometimes your worst fears don't come true. Don't get me wrong, if I'd gone any longer without feeling something for sure, I would have called my doctor immediately and gotten his opinion--especially if I wasn't going to see the OB this morning. It's important, though, to not let yourself be overwhelmed by your fears. As a first-time mom I know that it can be very hard not to think that every little thing you feel or may not feel is an abnormality that needs to be checked out immediately, but the most important thing you can do is remain calm. If you get overly excited, it can cause more damage than good. Happily, everything worked out for me and things are going swimmingly. If you have any extreme questions or concerns, try looking them up or read from your ample pile of literature on pregnancy (we know that you have it, lol) before calling your doctor. Everything is a lot more manageable if you just remain calm, though, no matter what the case is.

Meeting Your Ex's New Girlfriend (How to Deal)

Let me start off by explaining a little bit about myself. I can be somewhat...overwhelming at times. I try to reign it in when it's appropriate, but for the most part I tend to be pretty out-going and friendly. Sometimes it can make people uncomfortable and I'm aware of that, so I try to cater to people when I sense that they're uncomfortable.

There are very few things more uncomfortable in this world than meeting your ex's new "significant other". Let me tell you how I dealt with this awkward situation tonight:

I'll admit, when I get anxious, I tend to talk too fast and too much, but for the first time in my life I did neither of these things tonight, I'm proud to say. However, that didn't keep things from going south all too quickly.

My ex invited me to a barbeque this evening, and informed me that his new girlfriend would be there and that he'd like me to meet her. I, of course, agreed, thinking nothing of it. After all, he and I are the best of friends, and I was excited to cross this threshold of our new relationship with one another. So, after I finished with some of my maternity photos today, I headed over to his sister's place to hang out for a little while.

When I got there, I informed him of my presence. His sister came out to fetch me, which was pretty odd, but I didn't think anything of it. When I got inside, he was sitting with his niece in his lap at the kitchen table next to his girlfriend. I said my hellos and still, everything seemed fine. In an effort to do something nice, I invited his new girlfriend to take portraits of her with her son for free, as my brother is a professional photographer and the prints would be free. She was gracious and seemed to accept my offer without any awkwardness.

After that, everything seemed to fall deeper and deeper into awkwardness. Thank God my ex's sister was there, otherwise I may have gone insane. My ex just sat there quietly, saying very little and doing nothing in attempt to make things more comfortable. I'm not the type of person to just sit quietly in awkward silence, so I tried everything I could to make the situation less tense. I tried to include the new girlfriend in conversation, tried talking to my ex, and talked to my ex's sister a lot of the time because she seemed to be the only one willing to throw a rope in the general direction that I was drowning in.

Shortly after, my ex took his new girlfriend and left rather unceremoniously--as if he couldn't wait to get the heck out of there. He made up some excuse to flee quickly, and no one seemed to think anything of it. Except for me, who knew better. I stayed for a little while, so as not to be rude, and chatted with everyone for a bit before taking my leave (I have to be up at 6am anyway for a doctor's appointment, so hopefully no one was offended).

Unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong, I decided to text my ex and find out what the story is. He tells me that I made his new girlfriend uncomfortable with my "fast and awkward" talking and made her feel uncomfortable by offering professional portraits as the first thing to say to her.

I'm sorry--what?

I'd never felt more abandoned in my life. I felt completely set up, as if he threw me down a mountainside without teaching me to ski properly and then got upset with me when I fell down. It's completely insane. I've never been the type of person to just sit happily in silence while I hear ice cracking beneath me. It's insane. I understand that I needed to be on my "good behavior" and to be honest, she seemed very nice, but for God's sake, I'm not going to pretend to be someone I'm not just so that I can make his life easier--especially when they both had every opportunity to make things less awkward by partaking in friendly conversation and not being so...well, stuck up.

To be honest, I'm not upset about the situation. I mean, it's going to be awkward no matter what. Your past love and your new one are meeting for the first time, and someone's utterly terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing, so it puts everyone a little on edge. Not to mention, I'm possibly the mother of his future children which can make things even more uncomfortable. But the fact that I was blamed for said awkwardness was I was left out in the middle of open water, all alone...? No. I'm sorry, that doesn't fly.

But that actually got me to thinking. How are you supposed to deal with meeting your Ex's new girlfriend/boyfriend? I've devised an outline of the basic "proper behavior" for this uncomfortable meeting:

1. Smile
   
   No matter how awkward the situation, or how unhappy you are to be there, smile. It tends to set people at ease.
   
2. Don't Laugh Too Loudly
   
   If you laugh too loudly, people will think you're trying too hard. Keep it light, but sincere (if you can; if you can't, fake it!)
   
3. Don't Talk About Things You and Your Ex May Have Done In the Past
   
   Whether it's skydiving, or dry-humping, don't talk about it. The only occasion where it is acceptable to discuss your past exploits is if it some how can be incorporated to involve the new girl/boyfriend.
   
4. Don't Make the Conversation About You
   
   If you can help it, try to keep the talk about yourself or your doings to a minimum.
   
5. Don't Let Your Ex Compare You
   
   If your ex starts making comparisons between you two, immediately find a way to subtly stop him/her. All it's going to do is get your ex in trouble--with you or with his new boy/girlfriend.
   
6. Stay Positive
   
   Sometimes this can be hard, especially if you still are in love with your ex. But just keep smiling and be kind--you're there because your ex is more than just your ex; he/she is your friend.
   

If you simply follow those simple guidelines, you won't fail. I know it's easier to say than do, but trust me, when the situation is reversed and he/she is meeting your new boy/girlfriend, you'll be able to get a kind of sick satisfaction knowing that your ex is feeling just like you did at this point. ;)

Maternity Photos...gulp.

Let me start off by saying how much I hate having my picture taken. I don't really know why, considering how self-centered I am and how much attention I tend to attract, but I really hate it. When I was small, I used to love being in pictures and home videos and I believe that once, as a child, I even shouted "No, no--don't look at him, look at me!" on an old home movie. I'm not exactly sure when the 180 happened, but I certainly can't stand being in photos and things like that.

As an artist, I appreciate others' work. My older brother and I share a passion for photography, although he's more intent on turning his passion into a career than I am. As a result, when he learned that I was pregnant, he jumped at the chance to take my maternity photos. I, of course, immediately declined.

Now, don't get me wrong, when my babies are born there are going to be tons of pictures of them. I plan on taking many myself--basically, every time they're in a new situation as most doting mothers would. However, I certainly do not plan on being in said photos. To be honest, if I could keep my family from taking photos while I'm in the hospital I would, but I understand that that is completely unrealistic, and I understand that it will hurt their feelings if I said so. Besides, I just keep telling myself that it's for posterity, and I manage to fool myself into thinking that I won't look too terrible after my c-section.

Anyway, my brother is an extremely talented photographer. After much debating (and growing) I finally realized how selfish I was being by being so stubborn about the pictures. The most important thing is that these photos would be something that my brother can add to his portfolio and advance his career, and it's cruel of me to not give him the opportunity just because I hate being in front of the camera. So, basically, these photos are going to be taken tomorrow, and I'm surprised at how nervous I am. I trust my brother's vision, however, being a photographer myself, and being extremely picky about how I will be presented on camera can most certainly cause some problems. Not to mention I have to tendency to be controlling.

Another thing that kind of has me on edge is that I've invited my ex (one of the possible fathers of my children) to be in the photos, and he's yet to give me an answer. Of course, I only asked him today and I can't really expect it to be an easy decision. But the bottom line is, these are maternity photos. If he is their father, I think it would be important for him to participate and have shots including him (only because his desire to participate in my pregnancy has seemed to grow and he wants to be involved in a lot of ways, and it makes me happy that we can get along and still raise these girls). If he's not the father, then at least the photos would serve well for my brother's portfolio. It's not as if once we find out the paternity of the girls that we can do these photos later, you know?

I don't know. Some times I just really hate having things up in the air. I pride myself on my ability and desire to fly by the seat of my pants. Until I got pregnant, I didn't really plan anything and just let life come at me as it wanted. ...Well, that mentality turned out to make my life a tad more interesting than I bargained for, but I really have no complaints.

I just really hope all goes well tomorrow.

Life-Altering Much?

Probably, one of the things I've been asked the most lately, is if I'm apprehensive or worried about delivering my identical twin girls.

Hi, my name is Jen, and I'm 31 weeks pregnant as of today. Let me start off by telling you a little bit about myself. I live in Florida (as I have my entire life), I'm twenty-two-years-old, currently unemployed, living with my parents, pregnant with identical twin girls, and uncertain of who the father is. Did I ever really expect this sort of thing could happen to me? That I'd ever be in this situation? To be honest, no. I'd never desired to be a mother--probably because I was told that I couldn't even have children naturally, but mostly because I'd just never had any kind of maternal instinct.

I'm not going to lie. Before I found out that I was pregnant, I wasn't really living my life "decently" as some would have it put. Besides smoking, drinking, and partying, I was in a somewhat tumultuous relationship with someone I'd been with for nearly five years off-and-on. Despite how much we loved each other, we couldn't seem to stop hurting one another. At that point in our relationship he was sleeping with someone else as as a result I started sleeping with someone I worked with (who, incidentally, was also in a long-term relationship). After breaking up and getting back together for the umteenth time (very high school, I know), we ended out respective affairs, and decided to "try to make it work" again. Also, during this time and point, I'd moved back in with my parents due to some parking issues with the complex that I was living in at the time. I was searching for rooms for rent, and possibly studio apartments in my area, finally having the income source that I would need to live without room-mates. Things seemed to be going really well for me, and I wasn't worried about anything except when I got to go out drinking next, who was having the sickest parties, and what new comics were coming out.

I'd never really thought that I could get pregnant, so when I started showing symptoms I really didn't think anything of them. I'd been told before that my chances of conceiving naturally were extremely low. It had never been a problem for me, because I've never been the "motherly" type like my sister, and I've never really liked babies in general. I had planned to adopt a young child (somewhere around age 6-10) if I ever decided that I wanted kids, simply because I didn't like babies and so many children need adoption but everyone wants to adopt little babies and toddlers it seems. As a result, whenever I had sex, my partners and I were never exactly "safe" once it had been determined that neither of us contracted any type of STDs.

Sometimes I think the whole situation is horribly unfair. Not for me, because basically the choices I've made have brought me to this point in my life and I regret nothing, but here I am--a young woman who had never wanted children before now pregnant with twins--when so many women are desperate for children and can't have them. It makes me feel guilty, and I feel for these women. My mother couldn't have children, and my parents adopted me as a result, so I know what the pain of infertility can do to a woman who desperately wants a family. For me, it was an unlikely accident for someone that others may deem "unworthy".

When I initially found out that was pregnant, I wasn't exactly excited, but I wasn't angry at Life, either. Again, I still had my job, my boyfriend and I had been under the impression that we'd never have a family and here it was presented to us, although a bit earlier than what may have been ideal. We were both excited, and started making plans immediately. It wasn't until later, until I started crunching numbers, that I realized that there was a very good chance that the baby may not be his, and I'd be forced to tell him and the other guy.

Well, rather than dredge up all of the details, after much debating, I've decided to be a single mother. If the babies are my ex's, then they'll have their father involved in their lives. He and I are still great friends despite everything, and he's been great through all of this. I know it must be hard of him a lot of the time, and I've found a new respect for him being able to handle all of this so well. If the babies aren't his, then the other guy will be informed of their birth--per his request--and I suppose that will be it, while he goes on to live his life. I'm completely content with the way the events have panned out, and it's basically just a waiting game until the girls are born to find out their paternity.

My pregnancy has been fairly normal, despite being a high-risk, identical multiple pregnancy. Unfortunately, I had to leave my job (I was a lifeguard) because I was unable to actually do it due to morning sickness and all of that in the beginning, and eventually my doctor said I shouldn't really be working anyway, so for nearly the entire duration of my pregnancy I've been "taking it easy". The hardest thing about all of this is just basically being confined to the house and not having the means to go out and do things. I've managed to keep myself busy somewhat, and luckily I have good friends who visit. I happen to be the only person in my circle of friends that is pregnant or with children, so it can be frustrating not having someone to relate to but it's not as horrible as some may make it out to be. Although, I will be able to tell you--if I knew other people with kids or other pregnant women my age it would have certainly made this pregnancy a bit less daunting.

As of now, I can't wait for it to be over. I'm excited to meet my girls (who I've named Delessi May and Rosalie Marie) and have them in my arms. I'm ready to start walking normally again, and just not feel so miserable all the time. More than anything, I'm ready to get back into shape and drop this weight--as I've always had a bit of a complex and self-esteem issues--and start working again. I'm not worried about the delivery at all, really. I'm sure I'll just be thankful, more than anything. I've never had any kind of surgery in my life, though, and apparently, I'm having a scheduled c-section. The only thing that really worries me is my recovery from the surgery and how that my hinder my parenting. I've been told not to underestimate the importance of helping hands, however my over-zealous mother has a tendency to get a bit out of control with her affections and "mother-knows-best" mentality, and the strain that may cause our relationship worries me.

I suppose that it's normal to fear the unknown, but I'm not so much afraid of it as I am slightly worried over every possible outcome. But I believe that I've been dealing with it in a positive way, and apparently, staying positive is the most important thing you can do when you're as pregnant as I am.