Sunday, June 27, 2010

3 weeks old and done

Ahhh, a moment to my very self! Weee!
What to say? The babes are amazing and lovely little sleep deprivation specialists. We considered turning them in to the feds because they really belong on the terrorist watch list with these tactics. They are that good at it. That's the first time I've used italics!

A few breakdowns. Occasional swearing. Lots of breastmilk and cuteness. Their poo doesn't smell bad yet.

I knew when I started this blog that I did not really want to be a mommy blogger. I like reading them, but I'm not into being one. So, that being said, this is it: My final entry. I've loved the experience of reporting about myself. When I started, I didn't know how long we would pursue parenthood or if we would be successful or what and I really can't believe where we are right now. Anyway, thank you for reading, you really helped me through infertility and pregnancy. Your support was priceless. I hope I've helped someone in some way by writing this, although I did it for purely selfish reasons (namely, an attempt to maintain my sanity.)

I got to share my story over at stress free infertility... http://stressfreeinfertilityblog.com/
and I thank Krissi for that opportunity! So neat, this internet thingy they've got now.

Also, I wanted to share one last cool experience...
A friend of a friend is a budding family photographer and needed a set of twins to photograph for her portfolio. She was amazing and so are the photos. I wanted to share a few and share her website: www.wrendaslaymakerphotography.com

So, here are our boys...





Peace!

Monday, June 14, 2010

The New Road Home


We've been home for one short week. More on that later. I want to share our birth story, and I have to type fast because a baby will surely wake soon.

On the night before our scheduled c-section, we called the unit as instructed to obtain our official arrival time. We were told to arrive at 8 am. I said, "arrive at 8 am?" , "yes, arrive at 8 am" was the reply. "Arrive at 8 am?" I said again. "Yes".

Of course I was up at 3 am. I thought to myself, "self, you know damn well that that nurse is wrong and you should call back". I ignored me and let destiny be our guide.

They told me not to eat anything but I had an ensure and a glass of water just in case we were there at the wrong time and our section had to be moved to the afternoon.

With fifteen minutes to go before we had to leave the house for the 45 minute drive to the hospital, Gregg was eating breakfast and making coffee and hadn't showered yet. I got a little testy. He downloaded some stuff from the internet to the iphone. I got testier. I knew we had the wrong time anyway, but I wanted to be on time for the wrong time anyway. He pulled it off. Made coffee, ate, showered, packed the car and downloaded the iphone all in 15 minutes. We left.

We arrived. We were the only couple there! No one in labor, no other scheduled c-sections. Just a giant team of doctors and nurses standing around looking like they were waiting for something…

"Uh, when did they tell you to arrive?". "Uh, 8 am". "Uh, we had it mind to do the section at 8 am". "Well…". "No biggie! We're not busy today! And at least you are on time for the wrong time!". (I was glad they noticed this).

So, no biggie.

We were worked up. Waiting on lab work. Gregg and I were separated for about 40 minutes while they prepped me and got me numb. The spinal anesthesia was awesome. It didn't hurt going in and worked well. Everyone was incredibly nice and made me feel very safe. There were students everywhere.

Eventually, it was time. I panicked a little because Gregg was still not in the room and he told me later that he was panicking too. They brought him in at the last possible moment and they began. Lots of pushing and pulling later, Giles was born. He went to be assessed. Lots more pushing later, actually so much pushing that I thought they were going to hurt the baby, Moss was born. Splash! went amniotic fluid and associated gore and goop on the floor.

Apgars 8/9 on each. No help needed.



Impossible love, I felt it instantly.

Dr. R had a student and began making commentary and quizzing about my particular uterus at which time I learned that I had a couple of tiny fibroids, no biggie. However, I also learned something else about my fallopian tubes, the source of my infertility. Dr. R was not the one who worked up my infertility, it was a regular gynecologist who, looking back, did not adequately explain what he thought of my tubes after both the failed tube flush procedure thing and the exploratory lap. Dr. R said, "your tubes…", "yes?", "your tubes are very tiny". Ah! I was told they were small muscular and narrow and maybe they were, but now they are just tiny. I didn't expect to learn more about my infertility at this moment, guts splayed out. Actually, if I had been thinking about it, I would have asked specifically for his opinion.

I sort of suspected all along that what was wrong with my tubes was really a congenital defect, and he said I could be correct. I mean, I never had pelvic inflammatory disease or any STDs, so the only thing I could think of that would make my tubes not work was a defect. (oh how infertility makes one feel defective)!

Anyway, on to recovery. They brought the babies within the hour to breastfeed. My lactation peeps had made a fuss. I don't recall the experience of the first time at breast, but there are photos to prove it happened.

Because everyone was so stable (no NICU!!)(No NICU bill!!!), we got to go to the new hospital building. The mother/baby suite was better than many hotels I've stayed in.

We spent 3 sleepless days and nights gawking and breastfeeding.

We experienced the impossible beauty that every new parent must experience. or most anyway…or some!

The pain was bearable, requiring only ibuprofen and that I consciously empty my bladder every 2 hours. My bladder seemed to have forgotten how respond to large amounts of urine. I was really overloaded with IV fluid and the pictures of me are bizarre.

Our nurses were absolute pros. Breastfeeding went, and has gone, perfectly from the start. We gave pacies on the 3rd night.

We had a surprise visit from our wacky Turkish reproductive endocrinologist who just happened to see our names on the docket. This visit, as you can imagine, made us both cry. Closure. We took his picture.

Then, it was time to go home. I decided to drive and Gregg sat in the back with the babies. I was so full of wonder and love that I didn't recognize the road home. I knew how to get home, but everything seemed so…new and beautiful. The world seemed so lovely. On the highway, I began to weep. My beautiful babies in this enormously beautiful and dangerous world. I suddenly realized our impossible responsibility on this new road home and just wept.

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Home At Last!

This will be brief...I will write a longer blog in the next few days...but Big Daddy G actually wrote one on Old Wire Road, so if you'd like, check it out via the link at right. One quick tidbit: we were late to our birth day appointment...hmmm...


Giles, zen master, weighing in at 7 lbs on the nose



Moss, rocket man, weighing in at 7 lbs 15 ounces


Impossible Love


Sunday, June 6, 2010

38 weeks 4 days, T-1 day

A long post. A 2-for, even.


The day before our lives change forever…


Blueberry pancakes and bacon and coffee! Installing carseats! (An expletive inducing experience like you read about. I mean, who knew that all of those carseat installation stories were true!! Tools like an industrial winch and a PhD would have been helpful and Gregg required a couple of bandaids afterward, but it got done.)


Yesterday, aka the day before the day before our lives change forever, we bought a small pool that will help us and our guests with this Florida heat. Well, Gregg went and bought it with telephone guidance from me. It was during this mundane experience that I had a moment of profound clarity. First of all, we had to get the pool at Wally World, a place whose true name is a forbidden in our household, where we try to never go because it's soul sucking in so many ways including that there are way too many of our patients there. We do end up there about once a year to buy beach gear though, and it's always hard, even if we're only there for 15 minutes. It's hard because it is so overstimulating and so ugly, that it induces panic. I felt really bad that I had to send Gregg in there alone. So when one is in a panic, it's really hard to think straight. The pool options were overwhelming, even though we had prepared in advance. As we spoke on the phone, I could hear the rising anxiety in Gregg's voice. I could hear that the next thing that was going to happen was that Gregg was going to run out of there screaming and that I wouldn't have the stupid little pool I've desired for the past couple of weeks and now couldn't imagine going without this summer. And then it happened. Gregg said, "you know, if we want to go swimming we can just go to the springs!". These words rang out into the universe with a cinematic echo like you hear about, and I was just silent.


In this silence, what to me was the loudest silence I've ever heard, this is exactly what was happening in my brain: BONNGGGG!! Have we any idea what's about to happen to us? Just. go. to. the. springs. I don't think we're "just going" anywhere in the next few weeks. And on which day would you like to take our new babies? The 99 degree day or the 95 degree day? When they're 2 weeks old or 4 weeks? Maybe YOU can JUST GO SWIMMING, but I'll be here in my stupid wally world pool, babies safe and cool here at home until I'm comfortable taking them to the springs. Also, I have not been able to be outside comfortably in weeks. Also, I have only left our property once a week for the past 7 weeks. There is no question that I feel cooped up and am eager to get out to anywhere, but "just"?. I was in a state of complete amazement. JUST go swimming…ha!


I'm convinced that Gregg felt this in the silence because about 3 milliseconds thereafter, he pulled it together faster than ever, bought the dumb pool and came home. I paced around saying "just. go. swimming…just go swimming, ha! " for about 15 minutes before he arrived. Hugs all around, poor thing, spending so much time taking care of me and other stuff, no time to contemplate the potential shenanigans likely to ensue beginning like, tomorrow. Also, probably a dash of denial. He's a deal with it as it happens kind of guy for reals.


Of course we'll figure out how to go places with babies. I am not afraid. I just want to try to prepare for some ease and comfort for we caregivers in the first few weeks of what might be total chaos. If it's not total chaos, great! Plus, I just want to be outside for more than 5 minutes at a time.


So, what else is there to say on this day before the day of days?


A few years ago, we decided to raise chickens. Mostly we wanted their eggs but we were open to occasionally having one for dinner too. We started out with 26 birds and about 10 of them turned out to be roosters. A flock of 16 hens only needs 1-2 roosters around. So, as they reached the correct age and size for eating, we knew we had to act and cull the flock. We gathered our equipment and an experienced friend to show us how to slaughter a chicken and pluck it and stuff. We set the stage.


I was raised for about half of my life in a city and the other half in a sort of suburbia/tourist destinationy kind of place, so killing chickens seemed like a huge deal to me. So, being on the contemplative side I thought that the occasion of slaughtering one's first self-raised animals warranted words of some kind or another. A speech. So, as we all stood around the roosters chosen to be killed by our very hands and specially purchased instruments, I tried to think of something really awesome to say. Everyone was waiting. The silence was weighty.


I looked into the cage of victims and finally figured out what it was I should say. It was something that captured my complex internal feelings about the situation (a mixture of glee, guilt and something primal) perfectly. I took a deep breath, grimaced in my special way and said, "Well! Sorry dudes!". Deep, no? I was not prepared for the laughter.


Yeah, so here I am on the eve of the birth of our children. Is there a more poignant moment? A moment more worthy of weighty words and well thought out sentiments? Not to me there isn't. Not today anyway. I considered "sorry dudes", because I'm not sure we shouldn't apologize to the children we bring into this world, but it's not the sentiment I'm going for. It doesn't portray my joy or excitement at all.


So what do I say? How do I feel? It's indescribable really. I'm awestruck, nervous. Anxious, happy. I want to sing and dance and cry. Love. Joy. Terror. The roller coaster is cranking up the incline and tomorrow? Whoosh! Weeee!


The only phrases I can think to say are "holy sh*t" and "bon voyage!". There really should be a single word or phrase for all of this emotion. There probably is one of those do-it-yourself German words. The only English word I can think of is, "wow". How poetic. Whatever.


Anyway. Here we go. Away we go.


Wow.

Holy Sh*t.

Bon Voyage.




Thursday, June 3, 2010

38 weeks!!!

38 weeks! Full term for singletons! Neat-o! The stats say 50% of twin pregnancies get to term but I thought for sure we'd be in the pre-term category. Go team!


I thought I'd list the "damage" for posterity.

I've gained about 80#

I've gained a distinct and slightly disturbing afternoon TV habit, but I like it.

Super puffy hands and feet with the occasional cankle

Really achey hands, wrists and insteps

A super nice staring out of the window habit

My stretch marks arrived yesterday. YESTERDAY!!!

Severe heartburn arrived yesterday. There isn't enough calcium in the world to soothe it.

and the good

No hemhorrhoids! YAY!

No constipation

Time to read


The only physical side effect of pregnancy that I was dreading was hemorrhoids. I'm glad I don't have them, but considering what has shown up in the past few days, I'm not assuming that they still won't show up. Just a few days ago I thought I was getting out of this without stretch marks. I had dared not speak it until this week and blammo! There they are. So if I wake up with a hemorrhoid tomorrow, I have only myself to blame. I don't mind having the stretch marks, I just thought I had weaseled my way out, and to get them in the last week of pregnancy is sort of mean don't you think? Gregg, sweet thing, "can't see them". The heartburn is freaking epic. How's about a razor blade cocktail with a boiling vinegar chaser? Luckily it's not constant, but it has woken me up a couple of times and once or twice i thought I was going to hurl. Cereal is my main food group now and that keeps it under some control.


Ahhh! 4 days to go.




Tuesday, June 1, 2010

37 weeks 6 days

Woah! My mood is swinging all over the place. Normally, I'm super stable. Creepily stable. For the past few days though I've been either on the dark side or on the edge of it. I'm trying to remain open to the mood, knowing that if I try to shove it down, it will not pass. I am trying to pinpoint its origins though and this is what I've come up with so far:

1) I think I've been at home by myself a bit too long. I was ready for about 4 weeks of home alone time, but I got 7. The 3 extra weeks have affected me more than I thought. I look at my date book and it says things like, "get those shape-up shoes". This is the extent of my plans, because I have no idea what it's going to be like when the twins come home. I'm preparing for total insanity, but I just. don't. know.
2) Ummm...Impending parenthood anyone??!? Transition is crisis, I know, I know.
3) The realization that no matter how much we have prepared, we are not prepared and cannot be.
4) I think I have some residual grief about needing IVF. I think the feelings are about spontaneity or something, about which Gregg would (and will) say, "eff that!" and would (and will) be correct.

Ah! I feel better for having made a list. Lists make me feel better.

So, we went to our pre-op appointment today and everything went fine. Actually it was sweet. We got a lot of "see you in 6 weeks" comments and good wishes from the clinic staff. Poetically, in the hall we saw our IVF Doc (Dr. B) for the first time since we were turned over from the IVF folks (practically perfect in every way) to the OB folks (less than perfect, ahem). He remembered us and seemed excited for the impending delivery, which made me excited.

The plan is this: c-section Monday, first case of the day. Spinal anesthesia. Sutures not staples. No narcotics. If everything is good, breastfeeding within 90 minutes. Gregg can stay with the babies to make sure no one gives them formula. I spoke to my lactation peeps who assured me they have my back. They encouraged me and Gregg to brag about our qualifications shamelessly to get what we want.

I'm good with it.

So I told my lie and got an ultrasound, but it didn't go as expected. As soon as he told me he was doing the ultrasound he said, "but we'll forgo the measurements". I nearly burst out laughing because that's what I do when I'm in the middle of a half truth. I can't help it. Half truths rarely work out. They really are not concerned about the weights. He expects that they're both going to be gigantic, so he's happy. Therefore, I must trust. I'm okay with this. No choice. All I saw on the screen was a big pile of chubby limbs. All of the limbs looked fat and healthy, so I feel okay about the babies again.

The last post generated some really amazing emails from friends and family about their experiences with OB care. Gregg's mom had a similar experience nearly 40 (yup, almost 40 sweetie!) years ago when she was pregnant with him...never the same clinician, people who didn't seem to be doing their job to their best ability, the brush off. It seems to be really common which is comforting yet completely disconcerting and enraging at the same time. I know a lot has been written about this topic, so I won't go on. A side note though...I would not recommend watching "The Business of Being Born" during pregnancy. We made the mistake of watching it early on the pregnancy and I became semi-distraught and had some contractions. Gregg at one point turned it off because he got really PO'd. A very informative film though.

So anyway. I'm feeling fine. Babies on Monday. Who's babies? Our babies. Fat healthy babies.

I'm going to gorge myself on chocolate and omega 3's for the next few days. The mood will lift. It's lifting already. Thanks for listening.