It’s Official: I’m DONE.

I’m 37+1 with twins, each of whom is anticipated to weigh 6 lbs at birth. I feel like John Hurt in Alien, just before the alien baby bursts through his abdomen…

At my final prenatal appointment yesterday, I clocked 201 lbs on the scale, which is an increase in 30% of my usual body weight. Turning over in bed is a mammoth effort. It’s like doing a 7-point turn lying down.

Apparently, I don’t look pregnant from behind, but I’m so big now that strangers ask if I’m having twins. (One of my favourite things about this pregnancy was answering the question, “Are you having a boy or a girl?’ with “A boy and a girl!” because the look on people’s faces was priceless for the couple of seconds it took them to process “yes, twins,” ha!)

I don’t mind when people (at least, people I know) place their hands on my belly, because it feels like a celebration of these babies, and an acknowledgement of the 2 years it took to get to this point.

My belly measures almost 46 weeks. Stretch marks appeared suddenly 3 weeks ago. They spread rapidly. The skin on my belly is stretched so taut it’s shiny in places. It itches, but because it’s so big and the nerves can only cover so much, it feels numb. And yet, it’s hypersensitive to firmer touches, bumps, and towels which wipe off ultrasound gel. Oh, and heat—ultrasound gel feels uncomfortably hot, and my skin feels like it’s burning under my clothes while I sit in the autumn San Diego sun (I have to hold my tank top away from my skin).

Baby Girl (Twin A) has basically grown head down, and she is lying across the left side of my abdomen; Baby Boy (Twin B) can’t make up his mind whether to be transverse (lying across my diaphragm, which makes it hard to breathe) or head down. When he shifts position, it’s horribly uncomfortable.

I can’t lie on my back, as it causes shortness of breath. Sometimes, depending on the babies’ positions, I can’t lie on either side, so I have to sleep propped up against three pillows, a Snoogle, and a Boppy.

Sleep. Hahahahahahahaha. I’m up every 90 minutes to pee. I can’t. stop. drinking. water. (Starting today, I’ll be knocking back Gatorade—twin mama advice for preparing for a caesarean—so… bring it?)

Even before and after I had my daughter, I never once suffered from urinary incontinence. I’ve had to wear a pantyliner for a couple of months, because I leak pee all day. Ironically, my bowels have the opposite problem… But I’ve started thinking about how my pelvic floor is like the Greek god, Atlas, holding up the earth!

I’ve cried with the pain of pubic symphysis. Belly belts don’t do shit. My pelvis feels like it’s on fire down the middle. My left leg sometimes feels like it’s about to dislocate from my hip when I walk.

Walk? I can’t do much of that these days either.

Think? I have three brains in my body, and none of them works well ;)

Nesting? The time to really Get Shit Done would have been this summer, but there was nothing I could do in the great heat; and now I’m too big to do much of anything (although I did manage to wax my legs and paint my toenails).

These are the realities of twin pregnancy, friends. And, yes, I’m done. Really done. (Even knowing what lies ahead is the pain of caesarean still to come and massive sleep deprivation!)

But I can’t say this without also saying, WOW. What a fucking privilege it is to have made it to full-term for a singleton with two babies. (Half of all twins are delivered around by 36 weeks—today is also my daughter’s birthday, which means I’ll have delivered her two days before twins!) My goal was to get to 37-38 weeks and get each baby to weigh 6 lbs. I’m on track for that.

As my Ob/Gyn said: “How great that your last pregnancy ends with your feeling like you’re done.” There’s a lot of wisdom in that sentence.

T-minus 60 hours. My next post will share photos of the babies and their birth stats.

See you on the other side!