Sleeping beauties

Clio on the left, Elsa on the right.

What do you suppose babies dream about? I'm mystified by their sleeping grunts and squeaks and facial expressions. They don't have much in the way of visual vocabulary, so I can't imagine that they're actually *picturing* anything the way we do when we dream. Maybe they dream in sensations? Hunger, satisfaction; comfort, discomfort; safe, unsafe?

The night nanny came again last night -- and not a moment too soon; the night before had been a tough one. The girls had been fussy all evening, and I had hit something of a fatigue wall. She (the nanny) seems somehow magically able to soothe and calm them. She got them both to sleep for four hours between feedings, which we haven't accomplished yet. Is she giving them breastmilk white Russians? Turning the oven on, blowing out the pilot light, and popping them in for a quick gas hit? Or maybe -- most likely -- she just exudes calm and confidence. Which sucks, because the other two would be much easier for us to pull off.

Anyway, today I felt so refreshed that I even did some yoga. It was nice to feel like my old physical self, more or less. While being pregnant was a fascinating experience, I can't say that I miss it, though I do get a little nostalgic for feeling the babies move inside. It was so odd; the first few days after they were born, I felt what I can only describe as "ghost movements," where I swore I felt a kick or a squirm. It was probably my internal organs moving back into their regular positions. Still, the consciousness of the belly lingers. Last night was the first time I slept on my stomach, and I didn't do it for long.

So, taking stock, part by part:

Feet: shrunken back to their regular size, or close to it. I haven't tried wearing any of my dressier shoes, so I don't know if they still fit, but I suspect they will.

Ankles & legs: Wow! I forgot what nice, slender ankles and calves I had pre-pregnancy. I could be a freakin' ankle and calf model! That is, if I had time to shave my legs.

Privates: irrelevant, for the moment. But at least now I can look down and know that they're there.

Bladder: Liberated. Greeting the babies with flowers and dancing in the streets. I'm amazed at how infrequently I have to pee, especially given how much liquid I'm drinking. I guess most of it gets turned right into breast milk.

Belly: Back to looking like that of a boozy sorority girl, only squishier. The skin is oddly tan and dry, and the linea negra is still there, making for a strange overall appearance. But no stretch marks! Lucky me.

It is the remains of my belly which, I assume, constitute the 10 or so extra pounds I'm still carrying around. I didn't expect to lose so much weight so quickly, and it's great, but also annoying from a sartorial perspective: my maternity clothes are all too big now, but I can't fit into most of my pre-pregnancy clothes, particularly pants. So I'm stuck wearing knit and sweat pants and one pair of "transitional" jeans I bought at eleven weeks pregnant. This is fine for now, considering I rarely leave the house, but will pose a conundrum when it's time to go back to work.

Boobs: I've covered this elsewhere. (See previous post)

Hands: They appear to be back to normal, but my wedding and engagement rings are still snug enough that I'm afraid to wear them. Is it possible that my knuckles expanded during pregnancy? If so, can someone please explain why?

Face: Deflated almost to pre-pregnancy levels. One and a half chins as opposed to four.

Hair: I got it cut last week as a treat to myself, in a desire to look a little more polished and stylish. (Which one really ought to look when one sits around the house all day with her boobs hanging out.) I'm semi-pleased with the results. The fact is, I have great hair -- very thick and healthy -- but am incredibly lazy when it comes to doing the necessary work to make it look good.

Overall: A few lingering aches and pains occasionally flare -- the beleaguered pelvis, the taxed lower back -- but other than that, I feel almost normal. How lovely it is to be able to bend down and pick things up, trot (instead of lumber) up the stairs, and not feel like I have a laceration in my upper left abdominal muscles.

Oh yes -- and it's nice to be able to drink wine. Just the slight, single glass with dinner, as I do not wish to intoxicate the wondertwins and jeopardize their little brains. But even that -- Ah. So nice.