I’m freaking out.  The MFM called me on Friday night and recommended doing an amniocentesis.  I didn’t pass the first trimester screening, whatever that means.  There’s 3 part of the first trimester screening:

1. nucleotide test via ultrasound = hella normal (the most important portion of the test)
2. protein in the blood = hella normal
3. hcg in the blood = high side of the normal spectrum (doc thinks that’s b/c I have twins).

Statistically speaking, b/c I’m 29 with twins, it puts me in the risk category of 34 with a singleton pregnancy.   My risk of Down’s is now 1:38 (more stats I don’t understand).  My doc said, “99% chance they are completely healthy.”  Then why do the amnio???

Would I get a medical abortion if the babies were fucked up?  Yes.  But the first trimester screening isn’t really telling me shit.  There is a risk doing an amnio — a needle will be inserted through my abdomen, into my uterus and into each of the babies homes (their sacs).  The amnio is scheduled for week 16 (2/25).

I’m scared.  I feel like a wreck right now.  If the amnio comes back negative and the twins are normal, but the procedure caused a miscarriage, I don’t know how  I’ll live with myself. 

My doc says he’s damn good at doing an amnio.  Shit goes wrong 1/2,000.  Okay, trying to calm down.  I have faith in my MFM, he’s a good guy.  Breathing and letting go of worries.

I’m researching schools for my twins in uterus.  I’ll be 8 weeks tomorrow.  I need to get a fuckin’ grip. 

I’m not very concerned about parenting.  MPS and I have very similar philosophies on how we’ll parent/discipline.    I’ve got a great handle on nutrition, so I’m on top of what I’ll need to feed them.  Plus my bff is a kick-ass nutritionist so the nutritional bases are covered.  However, I’m super worried about educating these little buggers.  Education is a joint-effort between teachers and parents, with a good deal of the responsibility falling on the parents.  

When am I supposed to start teaching them how to read and write?  How am I going to incorporate learning into their daily lives?  Well I’ve been researching all morning.  And I will continue to do so.  Amy mamma bears out there — leave your advice!

So far I have 14 eggs cooking.  The injections have not stopped hurting.  They say it will, that shit BURNS.  Now I’m on 3 injections a day.  We had to  get lab-coat crazy in the bathroom this morning.  I had to mix white powder (not the fun stuff) with a vial of liquid. 

So this is where MPS and I are completely and totally different.  He likes to be prepared, ultra prepared.  In his ideal world, he would take out all of the drugs, syringes & directions.  He prefers to read everything first, hell a trial run if possible.  I don’t read shit.  I mean I skim.  Kind of sort of skim.  How hard can it be?  You mix powder + liquid and inject me in the belly.  Well I fucked up.  Medicine started squirting.  MPS was not pleased.  He lectured me.  I rebelled like a child and got snappy. 

But what I heart about him, is that we always end up either laughing or fucking after a disagreement.  At least my pussy serves me well sometimes.. just not for baby-making reasons.  Let’s just say I was late to work this morning.

Effect of the drugs: 

• shit burns like a mofo
• hornier — Don’t understand how that’s possible for me but I want to have a penis inside of me (specifically a penis) all the time.  But my pussy feels weird.  Almost uncomfortable, but yet I keep attempting it.  I cum and then I burn.  Why the damn burning from everything — injections and the dickens???  That’s not fair.  One pokey stick should never hurt me.
• I can’t eat — Never ever hungry anymore.  The tiny bit of fat that only I probably ever noticed on my belly is gone.  It’s hard to grab anything (skin/fat) before injecting.  Shit hurts.  I need to gain weight.
• The boobs are big and heavy.   I want my itty bitties back.  Don’t like this bra nonsense. 

What’s wrong with me???  Life is beautiful.  My husband’s hours just got awesome.  We’ve been snuggling up by the fireplace.  Having a wonderful time with my friends.  Got some more amazing clothes for FREE.  I can’t pinpoint anything that’s wrong.

Yet…. I feel down.  Down.  Down.  Down.  I want to cry but can’t.  Logically — this is probably b/c I’m stressed out.  I’m gonna go wallow in self-pity now.