Sour-puss no more?

I still feel like hell, but I feel badly for being so negative earlier today. I was in a whole lot of pain. I still am, but at least I've had all day to get used to it at this point. Also, I now have heartburn, which goes really well with the nausea. Seriously. At least Tums have calcium. I need calcium, right? Does a body good and all that? (considering I'm lactose intolerant and too many green-leafies can exacerbate kidney stones and every time I've taken a calcium supplement regularly I've gotten kidney stones more regularly than usual... I can definitely use extra calcium occasionally)

Anywhozit, I totally know that this is all going to be worth it. I didn't expect it to be easy, and I knew that when I made a conscious decision to carry all three. I know I will love my babies no matter what it takes to get far enough to meet them. I'm very excited about the pregnancy, and it's neat to see things changing. I wish I were a little more awake and in a little less pain so I could marvel a bit more at how my life is already evolving, but it's okay. I also wish I had the energy to get my house ORGANIZED. (It's not terrible now, but it's not ready for triplets, that's for sure)

Someone asked if I'm ever going to post a picture of my, uh, "progress". Presumably meaning my ever-expanding belly. The answer is it's not likely. I mean, if I'd been as teeney as Suz (who is pregnant with QUADS!) when this all started, I'd have belly shots all over the place by now. But you know. I'm all self-conscious about photos. So I expect at some point I'll take one, but not for a while. And who knows if it'll get posted. I guess I'm afraid that it's just in my head that I look pregnant. (I do, though, seriously, this belly out in front of me is just not natural!) I'm afraid I'll see a picture and realize that it's really just that I'm fat, which is hysterical, because I'm down 30 pounds from last summer (I lost 19 in my last pregnancy, gained a couple back after the miscarriage, and lost another 15 at the start of this pregnancy and haven't gained an ounce since), so I should be thinking how great I look!

I am stupid so I watched some show on the Discovery Health channel about babies. All these high-risk pregnancy delivery. What in heaven's name was I thinking?? AM I CRAZY? I didn't think anything of it, because I'm just not usually affected by people's horror stories. And it wasn't the things that went wrong that scared me. But I realized that all those women who delivered their babies via c-section... especially the ones that were 36 weekers (which I won't make it to)... none of them got to hold their babies. Not one of them. I mean, it was for good reason. The babies needed immediate care, rather than cuddling by mama, but... I mean... None of them got to hold their babies.

Honestly, not getting to hold my baby when I deliver isn't the worst thing on the planet, as long as they're as healthy as can be expected or hoped for. What's worse is these dreams I've been having. I haven't told you about the dreams because I feel like a big baby for even having them. But I keep having very vivid dreams that they've all died. Sometimes it's that they've died before I get to my next doctor's appointment (on the 17th... can't come soon enough at this point). Sometimes it's that they die right before delivery. The worst is when I dream they deliver, but die within a few days. How horrible am I? Every night for a week or so, this is what I've been dreaming. I had a teacher in high school who was pregnant with triplets and lost one about mid-way through her pregnancy while she was on hospital bedrest. Her twins are healthy and beautiful and Seniors in High School now (holy cow, I'm old), but I can only imagine the loss she must have felt (perhaps still feels). I think of her often.

Gah. I was supposed to stop being negative. But actually, somehow even the DBTs (dead baby thoughts) don't feel so negative to me. Because you know... it means that I'm rather attached to my tiny little parasites, and I can't imagine that attachment is a bad thing. Even if it intensifies my fear. Deep down, I really believe everything's going to be okay. Deep down I really believe they'll be here in September. Deep down, I know that no matter what happens, we'll work through it. That's progress.