It’s so exciting to see the changes that have been made to blogger since I’ve been away. The little blurb on the bottom now informs me that “Now blogger saves your drafts automatically!” Wow! In six months, technology has increased by leaps and bounds so that when I write a fifteen paragraph long post it won’t get lost in bloggerland? I feel like Rip Van Winkle!

I’m sure there is a lot going on in the world that I don’t know about. You’d think with all this time on my hands I’d be reading newspapers, gathering information, writing a book. Nope, none of the above. I even think knitting is too thought provoking for me right now. I mean, man, that is HARD. It has its own language and everything. Hats off to you hipster knitting chicks. I mean, its almost like rocket science. Almost.

I am now 28w3d pregnant. Since these are IVF babies, I know the exact date of conception, 11/25/2006. I even have a picture of the embryos. There were three of them. We’ve decided, as a little joke, we’d share that picture with the twins at some point and ask them “okay, now which one of you ate your brother” I mean, life is all about trauma inflicted upon you as a child, right? How many folks can say their parents accused them of in utero cannibalism?

I neglected to tell you all about the single childbirth class that husband and I went to. First of all, I am scared to death of getting these babies out. I mean, I know that they have to come out, but labor scares the crap out of me. C sections are also scary because I watch a lot of Discovery Health and I don’t know how I feel about being awake and alert while having major abdominal surgery. Anyway, someone who has a primal fear of childbirth should not take a childbirth class when they are barely 20 weeks pregnant, even if they are pregnant with twins and are soon to be bedbound. It is scary. They show you things you shouldn’t see. I mean, scary things. I won’t go into details. But, suffice it to say, we never went back.

So, there we are watching the video on different positions for labor — oh, you know that yoga/exercise ball you use? Yeah, now its called a ‘birthing ball’. Or you can walk around or get on all fours. Uh huh. You are supposed to make moaning sounds too like “ohhhhhh” “ahhhhhh” (however, they do not encourage you to yell “make it stop!!! Oh dear LORD!!!! What the Fuck!!!! MAKE IT STOP!! Like the woman in the birthing suite next to mine on one particular hospital trip. But that’s a story for another day.) Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, apparently one of the suggested methods of labor is called ‘slow dancing’ whereby you hold on to your labor partner and sway side to side a la the junior high dance. Apparently, the music of choice in laboring this way is Michael Bolton. Yes, you heard correctly, Michael Bolton. I am supposed to birth my babies, these precious beings we worked so long and hard to conceive, that I protected with all of my being, that I stayed in bed for for three months – I am supposed to propel them into the world and the first sounds they are to hear are. . .Michael. . . Bolton???

So, yeah, we never went back.