9w 6d

Hello littles,

The morning sickness that I thought was headed my way has gone. I’ve been spending lots of time napping and reading all about your arrival.

Most of my week has been spent eating. It wasn’t until last night that I got to learn more about how much I should be eating. I feel like I’m tethered to the kitchen! I’m trying to eat every two hours, and I’m trying to eat double what I used to. It’s a struggle. It’s all going to be worth it when I see you both be big and healthy.

Sometimes I worry about how you guys are. I want to know if you’re growing. I want to know if you’re getting the food and nutrients you need. I want to know that everything is okay down there.

I try not to let that worry take over though. I know that I’ll be able to see you once more in a little under two weeks. I am excited to meet my OB and get an ultrasound, even if it’s bright and early in the morning. Right now, I know you’re in there— even if I can’t (often) feel your movements and presence against my belly.

It’s hard to describe how you feel. Sometimes, when I’m laying on my side with a pillow under my wee belly, I can feel these warm squishy bubbles against me. They’re different from whatever else is going on there. They vibrate a little. It’s not as if I’m feeling kicks or motion. I know your presence. I hope that feeling never leaves.

Lately I’ve been wondering about how our lives will be once you’re out and we’re all in this together. How will we handle being a minor centre of attention when we go shopping? Your dad and I went out for chicken wings tonight. There was a woman with a baby in a stroller nearby.

I kept wondering how we’ll be able to go out with two babies at once. We will find a way. It’s going to take time to learn how to be four people instead of two grown-ups. Someday, I’ll look back on this and wonder what all the fuss was about.

My belly is growing bigger. Someone at work told me I had a baby bump on Friday. It may have been because I ran out of loose-fitting shirts and had to wear something tighter. I’m proud of us.

I’ve been feeling blessed lately. I feel so honoured to have a wonderful husband (your dad), a lovely home, a family who cares, and the tools for us to make a great life together. We are all going to be okay.

Happy eve of week ten!

P.S. Just for fun…

  • I am tasting coconut milk and coconut oil.
  • I am seeing all those things I’ve collected over the past few years slowly come to life, and have a presence outside of storage boxes. I am also seeing two lovely Stokke high chairs— my craigslist super find— that will be yours in about a year.
  • I am hearing wind. A tornado touched down in Ottawa a few days ago. Fall has set in.
  • I am touching squishy yellow, white, and grey baby yarn. I’ve decided to make two toddler-sized blankets and I hope to make them the exact same. This is going to be a long project, and I’m okay with it. It keeps me off the Internet.
  • I am smelling all the smells. I had no idea being pregnant would give me a sense of smell like a hound. Luckily, it hasn’t interfered with my ability to eat.

I’m going to begin taking bump pictures soon. I tell myself I’ll do it each morning. It never happens. Sometimes I feel like if I wait til night, I’ve got a food belly more than a baby belly.


8w 6d

4072F694-5E6B-4411-BC4E-E067DDC07093Hello Littles,

It almost feels strange calling you that. To Sam, you’re Thing One and Thing Two. Your dad sometimes calls you ‘Justin and Dustin.’ Don’t worry, you won’t be either of those. I try to imagine what it’s like in there. Do you do somersaults and flips all day? Sometimes I think I know where you are by the way it feels when I lay down. Other times, I feel like there’s a big question mark on my abdomen.

The nausea kicked in last night and again today. I thought I’d weathered the storm. I guess morning sickness might be just beginning. I hope you’re able to get what you need from me.

Lots of people are excited to meet you. All your grandparents and aunts and uncles know about you. Soon, more people will know you exist.

Before I learned about you, I didn’t nap a lot. I got a good eight or nine hours of sleep every night. It was uneventful. Now, I nap once a day. I wake up in the middle of the night thinking of you. The only comfort I get is to move to your future bedroom to sleep for a few more hours.

Before I learned about you, we had plans for a honeymoon in Europe. That honeymoon got moved to Newfoundland after we learned I was pregnant. Now that I know there are two of you, we’re making plans for a weekend getaway up north. It’s the least we can do to celebrate our marriage and be close to a hospital if needed.

I’m sad that we won’t be seeing you for another few weeks. I get to go to the high-risk clinic at the children’s hospital in early October for an ultrasound and a visit with the obstetrician. We are going to have the best team of professionals looking after us— probably some of the best in the country. The best part is, we don’t have to go far to see them.

Right now, I’m laying in the spare bedroom. It won’t be spare for long. I can feel pinching in my lower belly.

My favourite foods right now don’t exist. I’m trying to eat as much as I can, and none of it tastes very good. My favourite meal yesterday was a cup of plain yogurt with some honey and walnuts on it. I should make myself go for a walk.

Before I go, here are some things that have made me cry in the last month:

  • Watching Coco to the very end
  • Reading obituaries
  • Reading the pamphlet welcoming parents to the NICU

7 weeks, 6 days

Dear Littles,

It’s been 48 hours since we found out we were having you guys. The lab technician took forever to do the ultrasound. I thought my knees and legs were going to collapse!

When she was finally finished taking measurements forty minutes later, she let me sit up and see. I saw one of you. You looked like a gummy bear with a big heart that was beating quite quickly.

Then, she panned across and showed me another baby with another beating heart— your twin!

You both looked to be the same size and had hearts that beat at the same speed. One of you was barely in front of the other, only covering a tiny set of legs.

You share an amniotic sac, which means you’re going to be identical twins. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to tell you apart!

I leaned over on the table and started to cry big happy tears. The ultrasound technician called your dad into the room and I got to show him that we had not one, but two little ones growing inside of me. He gave me a big hug and we watched the ultrasound again.

I don’t know where it came from, but I believed that having two of you was something that happened to lots of people… til I got home and realized how crazy it was. The odds of this happening in nature looked so tiny. I felt proud and special all of a sudden.

Dad cried several times over the next few hours. We called your grandparents and told them all about seeing you. We went over to their house for pizza dinner and to take in all the news we’d learned.


I’ve been spending lots of time researching twin baby gear this weekend. We know we’ll need four car seats: two for when you’re really little, and two for when you’re a bit bigger.

I feel like I’ve learned that I’m pregnant all over again!

I am feeling:

  • The sound of quiet solitude. Today is the first cold day of the summer. I took a walk around the neighbourhood and felt the wind all around me. I imagined bringing you both in a stroller, not even a year from now.
  • The taste of hunger and fullness all at once. Sometimes I think I’m hungry, but then again no.  I don’t actually want anything to eat.  Or do I?  Eating is good, til the nausea kicks in.
  • The feel of hot and cold— my body can’t decide what to do, so I’ve been floating between sweaters and t-shirts all day.
  • The sight of messy bedspreads and lots of pillows. I have spent the last two nights altering between our rooms upstairs. My favourite one is the spare bedroom where I like to nap. Soon, it won’t be so spare anymore.
  • The smell of carrot cake tea. I made some this morning before checking the ingredients (licorice root!) and promptly had to dump it out.

Your dad has been:

  • Worrying about getting sick and bringing it home.
  • Taking good care of me by offering hugs and talking about our life that’s going to change very soon.
  • Calling you both ‘the babs’ (in reference to the Yahoo! answers question of, “How is babby formed?”)
  • Thinking about you lots

I hope you:

  • Have a membrane between the two of you because it’s safer that way. We’ll find out soon!
  • Grow big and strong together, and keep on staying equal sizes.