Muppets from Space

[Note: Dear Creme de la Creme readers, welcome! Please, please note that since this post, our little seedlings were born too early (21 wks), with us only a short while, and in that while changed our lives and our perspectives on a lot of things. Some things have ended, others started. Please stay tuned for an update.]

Contacted through my breakfast cereal and then confirmed to me by the cosmic fish...I am from outer space.

Sometimes I feel like Gonzo.

Not always. But every once in a while I get that nudge, that reminder. That feeling like in a sea of genes, in a long line of dominant traits and bloodlines, I am a little blip. Seemingly dropped at the doorstep. Origins unknown. With no ability to pass those pieces of myself along either.

Sometimes that's humbling. Sometimes these thoughts feel like the worst kind of hubris. Hey, I'm a one in a million! I could exclaim.

But aren't we all.

Sometimes I wish for a grand reunion. An easy search. Puzzle pieces falling into place, all leading me to one or both of my birth parents. It's not as if I landed in a bad place. My parents love me. H*ll, they adore me. And the support they have shown us ever since we shared our journey to bear children has been amazing. Eager grandparents-to-be is a grand understatement.

But every once in a while there is that desire to look into my cereal bowl or up to the heavens for some answers.

I think about beginning a process. Recently, my brother asked if I was at least going to go in search of my medical records in case we would need then for the seedlings, forgetting that their origins are also a bit unknown. To be honest, I did too for a moment.

What can I do to ease this longing? Will the seedlings have these same feelings? If they do, I will need to remember that this particular kind of curiosity and longing does not go hand in hand with rejecting the life, or family, or love that you have. It really does coexist.

And I have to remember that in the end, Gonzo doesn't run into the spaceship, into the open arms of people who share his nose, his personality, his love of cannons, people just like him. He opts to stay right where he is.

My life is here. This is my home.

A Quickie

Had our 18-week OB appointment this morning. Hubby dutifully tagged along, even though he apparently had horrible nightmares the night before. Not so much about the seedlings, more about being eternally separated from me and the seedlings due to catastrophic world events. He actually teared up just trying to describe them to me. And honestly, they sounded horrific.

Needless to say, he wasn't that cheery at the office and maybe even scared the nurse a little with his demeanor.

Other than that, the appointment was fine. Two strong heartbeats - one seedling seemingly annoyed by the pressure of the doppler since it kept squirming around as we tried to count the beats. Gained 4 lbs. since the last visit - "right on target" says the nurse. And when the midwife measured my lump we found it was expanding just above my belly button - a little ahead of schedule but totally normal since there's two in there.

No ultrasound today - we'll have to wait for the uberscan next Wednesday to be peeping toms.

Until then, my homework is to sign up for a prepared childbirth class, find a pediatrician and drink at least a gallon of water a day. The only thing that makes that last pill easier to swallow is my sweet new liter-sized SIGG bottle that we festooned with stickers from our visit to the Bonny Doon winery a few summers ago.

"You can pretend it's chardonnay!" says hubby.

You can laugh all you want, says me. But in fact, I was happy to see him crack a smile.

What's in There?

This morning hubby and I were lounging in bed, enjoying a lazy Saturday morning, taking bets on what exactly that little camera is going to find when it goes up in me on the 3rd.

He says aliens.

While that's funny, I doubt any pesky E.T.s would have escaped previous ultrasounds and tests.

My money's on finding a huge set of sharp teeth where my endometrium should be, ready to devour any unsuspecting embryos we place in its path. A deeper variation on vagina dentata.

And see, here is where you really need the visual I provided. I'll let you think up your own.

There's still plenty of time to put your wagers in. Any takers?