The title pretty much sums it up. Absolutely nothing is happening. We wake up in the morning and stare despairingly at her belly. We eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We watch episodes of Voyager and give the twins a good stare down before bed. Then we do it again.
That's not to say that this time hasn't been full of learning. For example, I've learned you can only ask a pregnant woman "You're not feeling anything? NOTHING?" so many times before she comes after you with a butter knife. I've learned that, in the wrong hands, a butter knife is significantly more lethal than you'd think. I've learned that a woman who is 39 weeks pregnant with twins is the definition of "the wrong hands."
We had another ultrasound a few days ago. In week 20, the ultrasound was amazing. You could see feet, hands, arms, legs, faces. The wonder of life depicted by the wonder of science. Fast foward to week 39 and you are treated to an hour of gray blobs. Based on the number of times the technician called out "that's a FOOT!", our twins are quadrapeds. However, I have to say that I'm getting good at reading these gray blobs. I'm pretty sure I saw one of the twins holding on to Amy's ribcage.
That's my explanation for why they aren't here yet.
