10 Weeks

First official belly pic! Taken last night after we went and saw a play. Thank God for wrap dresses that still fit.

I’m now at 10 weeks, which means if you’d like to compare my belly to someone with only one baby inside, my bump is supposed to be comparable to someone at 16-18 weeks. The babies, whom Jon is calling Bjorn and Bjork (no we don’t know genders yet), are now the size of limes.

Apparently I am now pregnant enough that it’s apparent to particularly observant strangers, like the cashier at my Kroger who looks just like Whoopi Goldberg, if Whoopi wore glittery cat-eye glasses. As I walked up to the checkout with a cart full of ice cream, milk, and cheese, she said, “What are you gonna do with that lil boy in there?” I seriously looked under my cart to see if a child had snuck onto the bottom rack. “What boy, where?” “In THERE!” she said, pointing to my midsection. “Oh, there’s twins in here, but we don’t know what they are yet.” She decided it’s two boys and told everyone else nearby, “SHE’S GOT TWO LIL TWINS IN THERE!” Meanwhile, the young woman bagging my groceries told me she had twins once, but lost the pregnancy. Um, I’m so sorry for your loss? Why would you say that to a total stranger? It’s like, “Hey, here’s my new puppy!” “Oh, I had a puppy once, IT DIED.” Womp womp.

Overall, I’m still feeling pretty good. Still no puking, though I feel constantly on the verge– I had to sit apart from my family while they ate funnel cakes at the Food Truck Festival yesterday because the smell was making me gag. I’m still fall-down tired all the time, but I’ll take napping over puking for sure. I’m attempting to follow a diet from When You’re Expecting Twins, Triplets, or Quads, which means I’m supposed to be eating 3500 calories per day, with at least 176 grams of protein. And you know, we have all joked how awesome an all you can eat diet would be, but it’s HARD. I’ve always been kind of an intuitive eater– I listen to my body, eat when I’m hungry, stop when I’m full. But my appetite is like it was B.T. (before TWINS?!), and when I’m constantly on the verge of nausea, shoving food into my face when I’m not feeling it feels almost torturous. Still, I’m trying not to whine too much about having to eat more ice cream. I should probably say for those of you who are familiar with my food values, I’m eating a lot more meat these days. I wasn’t happy about it, but getting that protein level is pretty much impossible otherwise (one cup of beans has about 14 grams of protein, for example), and Jon assured me that for 9 months, I can prioritize the babies over the environment.

I’m growing out of my clothes already, and I’m rigging up my pants with rubber bands and covering them with belly bands. I already bought two pairs of maternity skinny jeans, and the stretchy waistbands are HEAVEN.

We’re going to the OB on Wednesday, so maybe we’ll get another look at the babies. I kind of hope so. The more I see them, the more real and less surreal this all becomes.