Independence Day

(aka "Houston, we have viability")

(24w0d)
As a child July 4th was (ok, ok, besides Christmas) my favorite holidays. We would decorate our bikes first thing in the morning ride in the Oak Hills parade. Here I am (on the right) with Liz...



Then there were the Oak Hills Ward July 4th bashes at the Trojan Nuclear Power Plant. Don’t worry, it wasn’t as foreboding as it sounds. There was an enormous park there where we would play softball, have water balloon tosses and pie-eating contests, dig through haystacks for candy, and generally run around like a pack of hyenas for the day. I was reluctant to swim in the pond… you know, visions of glowing in the dark and all. In the evening it was always the Oak Hills fireworks. For years we had a plum spot on the lawn of the community church. That was, until the wind shifted and Mom got smashed in the head with a spent shell one year…

As a teenager, there were always the “after fireworks” that we set off in our driveway and while walking around the neighborhood. Oh, yes and then there was that mishap with the crazy fireworks that set a shrub on fire. Don’t worry, Rich, I won’t name any names :-).

By comparison, my July 4th this year was decidedly subdued.
Decidedly.
Let’s just say I am very grateful to Wimbeldon for graciously scheduling their tournament while I am on bed rest. And, oh yes, to the US Olympic Committee for holding the Olympic Trials. Whatever would I watch otherwise???

Instead of having “pool time” in the morning as I normally do in order to escape the worst heat of the day (Hello, 111’ F! Not exactly Prego-friendly weather), I held off until the evening. Matt and I got into the pool just after dusk and watched the fireworks go off around the valley and down on the strip.

It was, I imagine, our last “quiet” July 4th for many years to come.
But, I actually didn’t name this post “Independence Day” as a result of yesterday’s holiday.
No, it was actually in honor of a very important Vannah holiday which is occurring today.

Today the babies are 24 weeks.
Officially viable.
*(There is, some may know an ongoing debate as to what constitutes “viability” and whether or not the threshold of viability could now be considered closer to 20 weeks. I’m not getting into the debate. For the last 20 years, babies at 24 weeks have been considered viable. For my purposes, it is the most conservative number and I feel more confident of their chances of surviving now than I did at 20 weeks…)

They are considered capable of living outside the womb (albeit a tenuous existence with tubes, monitors and IVs, high mortality rate and a long-term disability rate that would make one cringe).

This is a very important milestone.
And considering all of the twists and turns to our journey, one which we could never be entirely sure would be reached.
But we made it!

And I am oh so grateful.

Btw….. the babies are kicking. When things really get going, my belly feels a bit like a bag of worms (oh, I know. Just wait. In another four weeks my belly will LOOK like a bag of worms). I contend that Beta appears to be the most active (as he has been on ultrasound since 9 weeks!), and considering the position they were in a few days ago, I imagine him kicking Alpha’s noggin. I will often get a kick on the lower right side where I know his legs to be, and then in quick succession, kicks (in protest?) from the lower left side where I know her legs to be. Charlie seems to be the mellower one (I’m hoping that means he will take after his father).

I’m getting flashes of three years from now when they are lined up along the back seat of the SUV…
“He’s kicking me, Mom”
“No, I wasn’t! It was just a ‘love tap’!”
“Stop touching me!!”

If Charlie’s mellow nature holds out, he’s getting the center car seat…