Well, recently Rachel and I packed for the hospital in secrecy so that Tyson wouldn't freak out for what could still be days or weeks. We put the contents recommended by our parenting class in small bags while Tyson was busy doing other things, like licking the carpet in the office, napping or barking at skateboarders. Then, we hid the two bags in our closet, where Tyson won't recognize them as anything but clutter.
Lately, when people ask when Rachel is due, we tell them, "Any day now." It seems she can't possibly hold out for much longer, as she is exceptionally tired all day but can't sleep at night. She's swollen in every area a person can imagine, can only fit into my shoes and complains that all her maternity shirts won't fit anymore. She walks around holding her stomach up to keep the pressure off the lower extremities, and eats only bland foods because of heartburn. Despite all that, she keeps on plodding through the days heroically, carrying Red and Lellow around and letting them grow. Here is Rach at 35 and a half weeks, undeniably barefoot and pregnant. I guess my shoes are not en vogue.
Rachel heads back to the doctor on Monday to make sure the twins are still doing well in there. Last week, the doctor told her that they "are just looking for a reason to deliver" now. Towards the end, babies pack on about a pound every two weeks, and physically they will not be able to grow in the womb for much longer. So, we'll keep the bags packed but hope they stay in the closet, and Tyson stays unaware, and the twins stay cramped but growing for at least a little while longer.