I am 35 weeks and 1 day. That's a pretty awesome accomplishment, I think. However, as I inch closer to being "term" with twins, I spend a good chunk of each day arguing with myself. During the day, I thank God that I am still pregnant and that M & J are growing and getting ready for their arrival. However, Every.Single.Night, I pray that I go into labor so that I can start recovering from the insomnia and general pain that goes along with carrying 12 lbs of babies and 50 lbs of extra weight around. Nighttime just stinks, and I dread the sun going down, because I know that these feelings will creep in.
Even typing this makes me feel like a horrible mother, because I know it would be ideal to carry these guys for 3 more weeks. BUT, because I work in the NICU, I also know that if Molly and Jackson decided to make their debut today, there is a strong chance that they would come home with me. If they did end up in NICU, the time spent there would most likely be very minimal.
That's the thing about arguing with yourself, though. There are no winners- it is beyond frustrating. It's sunny right now though, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we make it for a few more weeks. I can't imagine how this post would read had I written it after 9pm!