28

I'm twenty-eight weeks pregnant.

Wow.

It's not the end of the road, not even close. Julie just posted about the goal of making it to thirty weeks, and her links and comments are full of stories of what happens (or can happen) to premies and micropremies. Even thirty weeks is way, way too early; I'd like to make it to thity-six, or, when I'm feeling greedy, thirty-eight. (I imagine with twins I have almost no hope of going to forty, nor will I particularly want to purely from a comfort perspective. That said, if I get to gestate my children all the way until their due date, I will be extraordinarily grateful. Sweaty as a pig, but grateful.)

Twenty-eight weeks is special to me, though, because I have not one, not two, but three friends all born around this gestational age.* All were born in the late 1970s, when NICU technology was not quite what it is today. And all are just fine. Sure, each of them is probably a tad shorter than she would have been had she made it to full term, but all are within a normal height range. One has a scratchy voice due to underdeveloped vocal cords at birth, but it just gives her a leg up if she ever wants work on a phone sex hotline. Another is particularly sensitive to cold, but it's nothing a sweater (or a good coat) won't fix. I suppose none of us will ever know whether, if born at forty weeks, one of these women would have possessed brilliance to outshine the sun, but I assure you that even now they are all quite intelligent, and have spectacular personalities to boot. I'd be delighed to have any one (or two) of them as my daughter. Of course, seeing as they're all older than I am, that would be weird (though, to be fair, one was conceived after I was and just, as I've said, came out too early).

Twenty-eight weeks is also the last pre-term weight goal in Dr. Barbara Luke's tome on multiples pregnancies. I missed my two previous goals, gaining only six pounds (instead of ten) by ten weeks and only twenty-one pounds (instead of twenty-five) by twenty weeks. I am delighted to say that, as of today, I have put on just over thirty-nine pounds (the goal was thirty-eight). It's not all belly, but I'm carrying it pretty well - if I do say so myself. I should, ideally, pack on another ten pounds or so before I deliver. With my stomach squished up as it is, this is more challenging than it sounds, but I think I can pull it off if I really try.

* I think I may have one of their gestational ages off by a week or two, which I know makes a huge difference, but I can't really ask her just now. Plus, I like the way this reads.