Yesterday marked one month till Baby A and I's birthday.
We like to do this thing where we calculate how long we shared womb space (9 months, because hell yeah we went to 40 weeks) and then how old we are. So yesterday marked approximately 20 years and 8 months of kicking it together, twinkie style. Yup, we're finishing up our second decade, if you don't count time in utero.
So, about the whole 40 weeks thing... The doctors were a little surprised. Well, a LOT surprised. Because in med school, they teach you that twins almost always come early. See that "almost" right there, between "twins" and "always"? That's us! Mom chose a Wednesday to be induced, if she didn't go into labor naturally. Which she didn't, of course, because that would be too easy, and we're all about doing things the hard way around here. She liked Wednesday because she likes the number 11. (There were probably also some swear words and tears involved too, because dammit, 13 pounds of baby is just not comfortable, apparently). We like the number 11 too. The ones match, 1 for her and 1 for me. I guess twenty-two would have been cool too, but 42 weeks with twins, that's getting out of hand.