As today is the 21st of October, we are a month away from the twins’ estimated due date. For a person like me who looks pregnant, but is not actually expecting, that seems pretty close. I mean, what’s a month? If you listen to Lynnette, though, you will be made to feel like those four weeks are an unfathomable length of time, a distance impossible to traverse while still carrying Stephanie Tyler Higa and Joseph Perry Higa (or Steven Tyler Higa and Josephine Perry Higa. Either way.). “I just want them out,” she says. “I’m going to evict you two,” she says while looking down at her stomach. “I just feel skulls and feet,” she says. Things pregnant women say, indeed.
Lynnette’s stomach is so large, it makes the two of us being in the same area of the house nearly impossible. We can’t walk in the same corridor simultaneously. We have to take turns going down and coming up the stairs. We can’t stand face-to-face and kiss without athletic effort. It’s impossible for me to lean over and grab a glass from the dishwasher without my formidable ass backing into her stomach. “Ouch,” she says. I apologize to the twins, and only now – at this very moment – do I realize that seems considerate, but the twins are not the ones whose insides are being roundhouse kicked, the skin of their stomachs are not enduring the ultimate test of elasticity. I am sorry, Lynnette, for those common moments why my stomach and/or ass accidentally collide with your stomach.
Other than Lynnette, I would suggest that the pregnancy has had the worst impact on Abby.
Lynnette now is a serious contender for my “Best Snorer in the House” title. It’s amazing. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night to find Lynnette sleeping on her side, facing me, blasting Zs right into my ear. If I touch her body in anyway, the snoring somehow immediately stops. But if I pull my hand away? The snoring gradually returns, growing into a crescendo until back at full-strength, usually in the space of three or four breaths. I am not proud to say this, but on a few occasions, I have not been able to fall asleep once awoken by my lovely wife’s snarling. In these cases, so begins a process of trial and error during which I touch Lynnette’s arm, leg, whatever, repeatedly until I fall back asleep. If something can be super-duper funny and uber-depressing at the same time, then this game I play without my wife’s awareness is it.
While I am generally able to get back to sleep, Abby has it pretty rough. Whenever Lynnette shifts sides, Abby gets up. Whenever Lynnette sits up because of reflux, Abby gets up. Whenever Lynnette gets out of bed to use the bathroom, Abby gets up. Abby is lazy by nature, but she’s ridiculously sleepy all the time now. We usually start moving to the bedroom at 7 PM to shower, brush up, and settle into bed. As soon as the lights start going out in the living room, Abby saunters into the bedroom, jumps on the bed, and nestles herself into the comforter. Last night, she did the same and was asleep before any of us even got in the tub. “Abby?” I said. She had the strength to open one eyelid for two seconds before deciding it wasn’t worth it. Some evenings, Abby seems to say “Screw it,” and she goes into the bed room and gets on the bed before the rest of us.
As per her ultrasound yesterday, Lynnette says Boy Higa, Jr. weighs 5 pounds. Girl Higa #2 weights 4.5. Boy Higa, Jr. looks to have more hair than Girl Higa #2. Lynnette said something about wanting to get through 38 weeks. I didn’t hear all of it, the Mets game was on. According to her, if she gets that far and the twins are still cruising belly, she and I are going to have an “epic sesh”. I heard that. She means to end the Ice Age that I’ve endured with the not-so-ulterior motive of shifting the tectonic plates so as to move Boy and Girl out of her. Well. Considering we can’t even slow dance middle school-style right now, I have no idea how this Epic Sesh™ is supposed to happen. I’m not against it, though. That part I want made clear.