How To: Become a Lazy Mommy

I've mentioned it before, I'm now currently pregnant with twins; a boy and a girl. I'm 29 weeks tomorrow. For those of you that have ever been pregnant (if you're anything like me), the first pregnancy went by so sloooooooowwwwwly while the second FLEW by without you even noticing, oftentimes actually forgetting you were pregnant. Now, I'm not sure how many of you out there have ever had a twin pregnancy, but that experience actually stops time and shows it how to move backwards. Especially when that twin pregnancy involves a cervix that is almost as tired as the woman carting it around while working full time nights, taking care of a 20-something-month-old and a 3-year-old when getting home. In four weeks, I've lost an astronomical amount of my cervix. On Monday, at my prenatal, my itty-bitty, teeny-weeny, yellow-polka-dotted cervix is down to 5 mm...that's a meager 1/2 inch, when it should be greater than 25 mm or 2.5 inches. (Disclaimer: I can neither confirm nor deny the actual shade or pattern my cervix adorns due to the inability of the medical technological field to create a color sonogram. However, I'm reasonably certain that if cervices had colors, mine would indeed be yellow and polka-dotted. At times like this we must just go with our guts). I've received my steroid shots and consulted with the neonatal intensive care unit just in case I deliver early, as seems to be the concern. After crying my way through the first few minutes of my conversation with one of the NICU nurses, I decided that having these babies before 34 weeks was just not happening. These guys have made me make a lot of changes thus far in life (quitting my job, building a fourth bedroom in our home, and *swallows bile* getting a minivan), and at this point mama's got to take back a little control. Mother knows best...and mother knows you do not need to be born before 34 weeks!

In my efforts to decrease my risk of preterm labor, I spend 15 minutes each morning visualizing my cervix staying strong and developing kevlar properties. I then spend 10 additional minutes telling my giant tayta (our family's term of endearment for vaginas) to behave itself and stop eating said cervix. (Disclaimer: I can neither confirm nor deny the fact that my giant, swollen female nether regions are indeed munching on my cervix. However, there seems to be an exponential decrease of cervix that appears to directly correspond with an exponential increase in my tayta. And again, we can, at times like this, only trust our gut). I also have constant conversations with my baby boy throughout the day, telling him to move closer to my heart and pull his big ol' fetal head out of my tiny, tired cervix. I totally believe in the ability for a pregnant mother to communicate with her body and her babies, and I completely believe that these little fireside chats are making a difference. I know this for certain because I've lost the ability to eat solids recently and my hernia that sets up camp to the right of my sternum each pregnancy is burning and spreading across the width of my lower chest. No pain, no gain (in pregnancy weeks that is!). Despite what my perinatologist believes about how resting does not decrease a multiple mother's risk of delivering preterm, I've been relaxing and conducting what I like to call sofa-mothering. Benefits include increased independence and decreased juice intake. They know that if they finish their sippy of juice, it will be refilled with water because that's what they can reach. I buckle with my toddler because she throws some SERIOUS temper tantrums, and let's be honest, there's an underlying sense of laziness one must gain when conducting this type of parenting, and with that comes a lack of desire to listen to a crazy, insane, screaming toddler. I've tried to tell her to go to time out for yelling and screaming, but she doesn't listen (weird, right?), and I have to get up anyway. Why not just get the juice, I reason, because otherwise I'll have to get off my giant tayta and get her out of time out. It's a whole new world for me, I tell you!

Well the moral of the story is, despite my cervical disappearance, I refuse to have these babies before 34-36 weeks. It's just not an option. So, here I am, watching as time (hardly) passes, and begging my lady parts to hang in there and find the determination to show the medical trends what true Italian determination is. So, in your travels, as you're out and about, if you happen to see a portion of my cervix (no matter how small), could you please send it to the address listed in the title of my blog? That would be greatly appreciated. Together...we can make a difference!