I’m sorry. What day is it? What do you mean, July second? No, no. That can’t be. You see, for the entirety of this pregnancy, I have been thinking about July. For one thing, it was far away. Very far away. July was on my mind from the very beginning, because it was July when my brother was going to get married in San Diego. The wedding that, as soon as I found out I was having twins, I knew I would have to miss. What do you mean that’s in five days? I remember finding out that the last Harry Potter book was being released on July 21. I did some quick counting and realized that would make me 34 weeks pregnant… and hoped I’d make it that far. Suddenly it’s less than three weeks away.
July, in my mind, was the true final lap of the pregnancy. It was like Thursday. I had an orchestra director in high school who maintained that the day of the week that we should really celebrate was Thursday, because once you made it to Friday, you were really already at the weekend. It was getting through Thursday that was the real accomplishment. July is the Thursday of my pregnancy (with the very real possibility of not going to school on Friday). Early July had a big milestone that I wanted to reach – 32 weeks. After 32 weeks, I wouldn’t have to go all the way downtown, but could deliver at my hospital. Mentally, 34 weeks is a big step for me, since that’s when I was born, and obviously I made it OK. Maybe I’d make it to 34 weeks. And anything after 35 weeks seemed like bonus time. But those were far-off, theoretical dates. They were in July.
And yet, here we are. The second day of July. People are starting to get on planes to head for my brother’s wedding. My Harry Potter book is preordered from Amazon.com. My breastfeeding class (I worried that I might have scheduled it too late – what if I went early?!) is on Thursday. On Friday, I’ll be 32 weeks pregnant. When did all of this happen? Who has been holding down the fast-forward button?
Even though Friday is a big milestone as far as safety and viability and all of that, I don’t want them to be born next week. I want them to stay inside, develop their lungs, and cook a little longer. Even if it means my feet look like softballs and carpal tunnel is making it so my fingers are numb. But here we are, in July. The end isn’t in particularly sharp focus, but it’s definitely in sight. How strange is that?
I could have posted almost the exact same thing. I feel the same way. Where has the time gone? I only have 4 weeks left to go until (twin) full-term. I can’t believe it!! Keep hanging in there!