We’re at Defcon Twins.
High (Chair) Alert.
Of course, we’ve been here for the past couple weeks. But now it’s more real than ever.
Tomorrow, we see the OB/GYN and will hear one of three things:
a) “Get yourself to the hospital right now, it’s Go Time.”
b) “Be at the hospital tomorrow morning, it’s Go Time.”
c) “You’re doing great, even though you’re in incredible discomfort 24/7. I want you to hang in there for another week at least.”
The answer we’d like to hear, we think, is either a) or b).
But the most likely answer, the one we’re trying to be ready for, is c).
I feel so bad – Shannon is just absolutely miserable all the time. She has erratic pre-term contractions almost all day long, can’t get comfortable, she can’t sleep for more than a few hours, and oh by the way she’s pretty much half-baby at this point.
So if we heard that the doc wanted to go in and get ’em early, it would be both good and bad. Good – no more discomfort for Shannon, except for the C-section recovery. Bad – because we’re barely ready.
This Tuesday starts Week 34. So that’s better than a lot of twin pregnancies, but the longer you can go, the better.
And I see the creepy Burger King dancing around a bunch of square-butted dancers, and then I think they’d be better off staying inside a lot longer.