We were in Ireland as I passed the half-way point in this pregnancy.  We were, on that particular Saturday, surrounded by a bus full of mostly Australian tourists as we were herded from Emerald highlight to Emerald highlight, from sheep to cliff, from medieval town to rock wall, from green pasture to yet another green pasture.  The Japanese gentleman on our tour, reflecting on his impressions about the country, pulled out his phrasebook, thumbed purposefully, and settled on the succinct, “monotony.”  But in our hotel room that night, whatever time it truly was on the East Coast of the United States, we paused to be grateful we have made it this far, and that the babies’ growth seemed to be evident in my bulging abdomen.

My books told me I might feel kicking around 17/18 weeks, but those markers passed without anything definitively Kick feeling.  I have always felt little twinges and cramps, but attributed them to the increased size of my womb, and its resulting displacement of just about all my internal organs.  I even asked my mother what first kicks felt like, and she responded with a resoundingly noncommittal, “You’ll just know.”

My therapist asked on Friday if I’d felt anything yet, and I responded honestly in the negative.  She seemed surprised, and probed further, asking if I’d gently pushed on my belly and felt anything externally.  Well, that evening we tried to use Mr. Apron’s stethoscope to find heartbeats, without much luck, and I sat on the couch relaxing in that typical pregnant woman pose, hand resting gently on top of my belly.  I found my pulse, of course — as my circulation grows ever more impressive, I’m positively throbbing with heartbeats — but I also felt a distinctly non-rhythmic movement.  A kick for sure!  Since Friday they have not let up, having a riotous time in spurts and jolts.  They seem to particularly enjoy kicking right at the top of my belly.  I was finally able to help Mr. Apron feel it, too.  Feeling a kick, I sensed they were feeling active, so I grabbed his hand and rested it — just so — on my stomach.  Lo and behold, his pupils dilated and fixed on my belly.  He had felt it, too.

Today, my doctor confirmed that twins, and first pregnancies in general (technically, because of our miscarriage, this is my 2nd pregnancy, but my body never really stretched with our first-trimester loss, so I guess it doesn’t “count” in this sense?) will be later to feel kicks.

And there you have it.

To celebrate seeing our little 1-lb wonders on the ultrasound screen this morning, I will regale you with our celebratory breakfast, baked with the help of my sister and husband.  This is originally a banana bread, since the fetuses are the length of bananas this week.  I had previously found that this recipe converts very easily to muffins, and muffin papers mean no greasing loaf pans, nor cutting out parchment paper, so muffins it was.  I also added chocolate chips because Mr. Apron will eat anything for breakfast if it has chocolate in it.  I love this recipe as it doesn’t taste like bananas.  Many banana breads use 3-4 bananas, which I’m sure makes for a moist bread, but also a very banana-y one.  Mine only uses about 2 bananas — perfect for banana haters.

Banana Bread

 2 c. flour
1tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
1 c. sugar
½ c. butter
1 egg
1 c. mashed overripe banana (about 2)
5 Tbsp milk
½ c. chopped walnuts (opt.)
1 c. milk choc. chips (opt.)

 

Sift together flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt.  In a large bowl, cream sugar and butter.  Beat the egg slightly and mix into the creamed mixture with the bananas.  Mix in sifted ingredients until just combined.  Stir in milk and nuts/chocolate chips.  Spread batter into one greased and floured 9×5 loaf pan or scoop into 18 muffin papers.  Bake at 350 for one hour until top is brown and cracks along the top (for the loaf) or 20 minutes until toothpick tester comes out clean (for the muffins).

Cooling on the rack, not knowing what fate awaits them.

Watch out, little muffin!

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