Fertility Lost

A New Chapter

2012-01-09T08:39:00.000-08:00

Boy, that new blog sure didn't take off! Talk about a crash landing!

Well friends, I'm sorry to report I have a new medical drama unfolding bfore me, and I'm debating on whether or not to use blogging as an outlet for it.

Right before Thanksgiving I found a small lump in my right breast. I'm only 35 and I had just had a clean mammogram 2 months before, but I knew something just was not right. Gut instincts were correct as usual. I was diagnosed with breast cancer right before Christmas.

C'mon now. Can this really be happening? I dealt with infertility. I barely survived severe pregnancy complications. I struggled through reconstructive abdominoplasty. Now breast cancer at a young age??? And all within 4 years? Talks about WTF!!! I can't seem to catch a break, friends.

I'm still in the diagnostic phase. As of this writing, I am sitting on pins and needles to learn the results of a more extensive biopsy I just had, which will determine my treatment going forward. Initially based on what was found my prognosis is very good--it's what they haven't identified yet that is scaring the pants off of me.

My little boys are so wonderful. They give me the courage to keep going with my chin up. But it is so hard to accept this. Getting the doctor appointment registration papers in the mail labeling me as a cancer patient are jarring. I thought infertility was going to be my one big health crisis. Then the HELLP syndrome. Now this?

Positive thoughts requested!

Signed,
Emmie, the health lemon

New Blog

2011-02-28T06:26:00.000-08:00

Hello out there!

I know some of you still have this blog set up on your RSS feeds and what not, so I'm hoping my old readership will get word that I'm starting a new blog, The Family That Flies Together, to talk about our travels with twins. I've really been wanting to come back to blogging for awhile now--I really miss my blog friends and the comraderie--so I thought I'd combine it with my obsession with travel. I'd like to share my travel stories--the things that work and the things that haven't--with small kids and maybe learn a few things myself along the way.

I hope everyone is doing well out there, and I hope to find you all on your blogs again soon.

Epilogue

2009-05-07T06:32:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow, May 8, is a bitter sweet day. My little boys turn two, and I mark the second anniverary of the most nightmarish experience I hope I'll ever have. What was supposed to be one of the best days of my life was one of my worst, and almost my last. The dual nature of the day is something I have to live with--but at least I'm here to live it. Two years ago tomorrow I should have been dead by all my doctors' accounts due to the severe complications I endured during my labor.

This year my journey to recovery has continued with a significant milestone. I had my abdominoplasty surgery on September 22. I am so happy to tell you all that it went wonderfully and that I am healing well. No, insurance never paid a dime. But not being able to see my intestines moving beneath my skin anymore--priceless. :)

The weekend leading up to the surgery I had a unique oppotunity to be interviewed for an informational video on women's pregancy disorders. They wanted me to share my story. The woman doing the video and interviewing me had had a similar experience to mine. It was healing emotionally to meet someone else who had been such a medical mystery to her doctors and had lived to talk about it. Our husbands also bonded.

The day of the surgery I was beyond terrified. It was a horrible thing to walk into the same hospital were I had spent several weeks in the ICU, leaving my boys at home and not knowing when I'd get to hold them again. As I was wheeled into the operating room, I caught a glimpse of a familliar face--the mother of my boys' Godmother is a nurse and she had randomly been assigned to my floor that day. If that's not a blessing I don't know what is. She was with me when I woke up.

H stayed with me overnight in the hospital and I felt so much better than I thought I would that I couldn't believe it. I was able to get up to go to the bathroom on my own and eat dinner. We watched TV. I slept through the night. It just showed me how very, very ill I had been the last time I had stayed in that hospital.

I went home from the hospital the next day, and my parents stayed with us for a few weeks while I was recovery. It took me 3 months before I could pick up the boys again, but I was downstairs watching them play a few days after the surgery. I feel so much better now that I've had the surgery that it is amazing. So far I have had no complications other than the usual swelling, which will take about a year to go away completely.

The boys are great. They say a lot of words now, and they can count to ten very clearly. They don't speak in many sentences yet (mainly "more food, "need help"), but the one sentence they do say on a regular basis is "I love (ove) you, Momma." Now how great is that?

May was once my favorite time of year, but now as the flowers bloom and the weather starts to warm up, I get a sort of feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. The last remains of post traumatic stress bouncing around my psyche I suppose. I gave up therapy more than a year ago and have overall been doing just fine. I just need to beat these anniversary blues. I'm sure as more years pass I will. My doctors still remind me how surprised they are that I'm here--maybe I should get new doctors? But, being reminded that you shouldn't even be here right now certainly puts things into perspective when you're having a bad day.

Going through infertility has given me an appreciation for my kids that I think some may never understand. Likewise, my near-death experience has given me an appreciation for my life that I didn't have. It's easy to say "don't take things for granted," but once you really get close to losing them it opens up a whole new level of understanding. Not that other people don't love and value their lives and their kids lives. It's just an extra awareness that you have.

I can't expect that I have any readers left, but if you are out there--thank you for supporting me and being my friend. It's been quite an adventure. I'm glad that it has ended well and I wish you the best of luck on your journeys. I'm still out there lurking, but my other blog friends say things much better than I do so I'll leave the blogging to them. It's time for me to get on with things...

Happy May!
Emmie

Hello Again!

2008-08-11T06:03:00.000-07:00

Hey everybody!

So the last time I posted, WAAAAY back in February, I said I was going to try to renew the blog. Ha...instead everybody got colds, one at a time, and we were a mess for about 3 weeks. After that, time just kept slipping away and I never got around to posting, though I still visit the blogs of my closest blog friends. I haven't forgotten the people who were with me during my darkest times!!!

So, an update is in order. Well, insurance never reversed its decision about my surgery, and to top it off my insurance changed to a new company last month that won't cover any plastic srugery under any circumstances, medically necessary or not, so I'm left footing the bill. I finally gave in and scheduled the full abdominoplasty for late September, and I am absoultely dreading it. Not only am I out of a considerable chunck of change, I just can't bear the thought of going back to the hospital and having such a major surgery. I dread the long recovery and not being able to pick up my boys or rough house with them. I feel like I finally have a life again, but that I'll have to put it on hold once again. Still, every time I look at my stomach and see or feel my intestines move just beneath the surface, I know that my abdominal wall must be repaired, whether insurance thinks so or not. So, let's just hope this procedure is a lot less complicated that my delivery of the boys...

And on to the boys, the best part of my life...
They are awesome. So worth everything we went through to have them. I am so happy to have survived to be able to raise them. They started walking on their 14 month birthday, and now they are practically running at 15 months. I call--Come to Mommy--and they run over, tackling me with hugs and kisses. It is just awesome. They give these huge open-mouthed kisses that crack me up. When they come toddling towards me and actually do things to make me laugh, I can't get over how lucky I am.

I feel insanely busy every day and I lead a way over-scheduled life, with every hour planned, but my playtime with the boys is true bliss. The schedule and routine is essential to our sanity though, so I'll live with the fact that every moment of my day is accounted for right now.

Our first year with our au pair already concluded, and we now have a new au pair who is equally great with the boys. It's hard getting someone new acclimated to our home, our family, and the culture while sharing our focus with the boys and full time jobs, but H and I are managing. Some days I'm so stressed I think I'm just going to keel over, but other days I feel very competent and in control. I probably need to give up some of my control issues. :)

I hope you all are well and I'll try to update a little more frequently.

Nothing Better

2008-02-01T06:42:00.000-08:00

Thanks for all of your encouragement after my last post. I'm going to wait until I know my insurance appeals definitely won't work before I turn to the media, but if the appeal fails I'm ready to get the word out for help.

In the meantime, let's talk good things...twins!!!

I think their progress has been really great. They are both really happy almost all of the time now (such a relief from the first 3 to 4 months when they cried so much and little would comfort them.) They babble like crazy and are quite good at getting what they want. They both do some super cute yoga moves in addition to crawling (hands and tiptoes on the floor with their heads down and butts high in the air.) The youngest hasn't shown any signs of a tooth yet but I think it should be any day now with all the drool. The oldest played with a rubber ducky in the tub last night for the first time. He likes to give big, open mouth kisses to the side of my face, which is kinda scary as he has two very sharp teeth. I'm not sure if he's really kissing me or trying to suck my face like a vampire, but he and I both find it hilarious. The youngest is fascinated with sticking out his tongue. If you get too close, he will lick you and then smile the sweetest smile you have ever seen.

Both sit up pretty well now and for long periods of time, but when they do fall over it causes quite a few tears. Oldest now shows off by pulling up to a standing position and then letting go with one hand. I feel like this is very advanced for 8 months, but I have other mothers asking me if they're walking yet. (huh???) Littlest shows no interest in pulling up yet. It's amazing how the milestones just suddenly happen though. One day they're happy just to hang out on the floor, the next day the Big'un is waving at me from his crib while I change his brother.

Of course, having twins means that people will make comparisons and try to worry you. MIL has expressed concerns that Littlest is not as advanced in mobility/standing as Biggest. Ugh. Forget trying to explain that they are individuals and will do things at different speeds. I try to just ease her worries and forget about it, but sometimes it gets to me.

Let's Get This Party Started

2008-01-31T07:04:00.000-08:00

For those of you who have been long-time readers of Fertility Lost, you may have noticed that I'm trying to update the look of the blog and add a few new elements. (Please take my survey in the side bar!)I totally screwed up my blogroll and still have to redo it, so please bare with me. I'll never have a fancy site. Knowing this, I realized I need to get off my butt and write or give this up all together. No one likes a stale blog, right?

So here it is, folks. My attempt to renew my blog. I hope I still have some readers left out there and I hope maybe I'll pick up some new ones. My focus: parenting twins after infertility, with a few diatribes about post-partum depression, post tramautic stress, HE.LLP syndrome, having an au pair, and other things that go bump in the night. Throw in a few photos of some deliciously adorable twin babies, a documentary about my efforts to get my much-needed abdominal surgery covered by insurance, and some bad in-law stories, and I think we'll have a blog worth visiting again.

So, what's new, you ask? Here it is in a nutshell:

My therpaist has pronounced me over my post traumatic stress syndrome and post-partum depression. Hooray! Life is good, no? Well, my big lesson in therapy is that life is still going to be pretty crappy sometimes and that's okay. What matters is how I handle it. And indeed, life is still crappy a lot of the time, as you will see in Exhibit B...

My battle with my health insurance rages on, as three separate doctors have written strongly worded letters expressing the medical necessity of my abdominoplasty. So far, these letters have done nothing but produce more denial letters from Blue Cross Blue Shield of Illinois. That's right, I'm calling you out by name, BCBSIL! As I continue to walk around each day with my intestines and internal organs unprotected by any muscle tissue, I get angrier and angrier. Look soon for a You Tube video showing the world how I can watch my intestines moving right beneath my skin. I'm hoping some word of mouth about my condition will get me some much needed attention. My docs have suggested I take my story to the media. So blogger friends, I may be enlisting your help to spread my story and outrage over this lack of attention to what is a very serious medical condition. I'm awaiting word on my appeal right now. If it's unfavorable, I'm taking the next step to get some help.

My babies are fabulous. I am absolutely in love with them. They make the health insurance battle and the abdominal pain I'm experiencing bearable. Baby A pulls up now and has two teeth. Baby B has a passion for solid food and is crawling on his knees. They are truly the light of my life and have made this whole experience worth all the pain and misery. I couldn't have said that a few months ago. I'm finally seeing the light after a very difficult recovery. Much more on the babies in posts to come. I just don't know where to start.

Happy New Year!

2008-01-02T07:08:00.000-08:00

I hope all my blog friends and readers out there have a wonderful 2008. I am optimistic that 2008 will be much better than 2007; of course, I had been optimistic that 2007 would be much, much better than 2006. And in many ways it was. And hey, I'm here to see 2008, with babies, so that's what really counts, right?

This year I've really learned about living in the present. During the pregnancy I focused on each and every day that the babies were growing inside me. Every day I got closer to having "term" twins was an accomplishment. I didn't look far ahead of myself. The same happened when I was in the hospital. Some days I really lived minute to minute. As I healed that became hour to hour, day to day. Now with all the challenges of raising two babies at once I'm still living in the moment, handling one thing at a time and not getting too far ahead of myself. Yeah, I sometimes google private school tuition rates and dream of a day when I won't need so much child care, but for the most part I'm taking it one day at a time and loving it.

This was the best Christmas ever, hands down, for me and H. The babies were so great, even though we had them around different groups of relatives and friends almost every day for two weeks. I finally feel whole, like my life is complete. No one is missing anymore. Now all I have to do is enjoy it. And I am. No New Year's resolutions this year. Just grateful to see each day and what it brings.

The Happiest Season of All

2007-12-18T11:37:00.000-08:00

It's the most magical time of the year, right? Not for everyone. It seems that all of my real-life close friends are all having really rough times right now. What's going on, universe? Here's to a much better 2008.

I can't say my life is just peachy yet as my surgery still looms over me, but I must say that life with babies is a hell of a lot better than life without babies. Yes, I am tired, and yes, I sometimes long for the days when I could take a nap or jot off to run an errand without thinking twice, but I am so, so happy to have my two little boys. They are the sweetest things ever, and I can't imagine living life without them.

This knowledge just makes me even more disgusted with all the people who spout "just adopt" or "move on" to infertiles seeking treatment. Geesh. Kids are so important. We all know it. Why pretend that infertiles aren't missing something when we so clearly are?

After everything that happened, I'd still do it again in a heartbeat to have these two little people in my life. I am so lucky. I have everything I want for Christmas.

My one boy said dadada repeatedly this weekend, and the other said momomomom, with very distinct articulation. What a great feeling to hear those sounds, even if the babies have no idea what they mean.

Adoption

2007-12-11T04:35:00.000-08:00

Hey GLouise--Thanks for your comment to my last post; I was wondering where your blog went! Yes, please tell me what I need to do to still read your blog. I really am interested in adopting one day. I don't know if it's feasible for me, but I've found your story very inspiring.

Another Day

2007-12-10T07:11:00.001-08:00

No fear--I'm not leaving my blog. I guess the conflict is really internal. How do I come here and vent about stuff when the most important fact remains...I have two wonderful, healthy children. Can't that be enough?

When do the bouts of depression go away? When do I start living my life like I actually enjoy it?

I thought I was doing a lot better. I even thought I might quit the therapy, as it really doesn't seem like much goes on in my sessions.

But then I had a really bad day, which turned into a bad weekend, which now promises to turn into a bad week. I'm consumed by this black cloud of misery.

It started when insurance denied my claim. I'm mustering up the effort to appeal but I haven't gotten that far yet. I'm just so emotionally tired. Then it got worse when I dented my car last week on a pole in a parking garage. One second of carelessness is going to cost me $1,000 in repairs. There goes my Xmas bonus. There goes trying to restore some of my depleted savings. There goes saving towards my surgery which I doubt will get covered even after an appeal. G--d---it!!! When am I going to get a break?

And the one voice in my head says...you did get a break. You have two healthy sons. You're here for yet another day. Yes, money is tight, but you can pay your bills. You have a good job. A good spouse. A spouse who has a good job. Why are you complaining?

Why?--my other voice replies. Because I'm surrounded by friends and family who have been through none of these problems and have all the same things I've had to fight almost to death for. Do I begrudge them their good fortune? No, of course not. I'm just mad at the universe. I'm stuck in a cycle of "Why Me????" Why does everything have to be so hard for me. I've had a string of bad luck for the past 2 years now and I'm waiting for the universe to just let up on me for a little bit. Cut me a break. Send a few pick-me-ups my way. Something. Anything to say, yes, things have been tough lately, but it's nothing personal. Good stuff will still happen for you, too. All this suffering will balance out.

Or is this suffering just the tip of the iceburg? Things could get so much worse. I could just use a little coddling right now, universe. If you don't mind.

Where Do We Go From Here?

2007-12-07T10:15:00.000-08:00

I'm at a crossroads. So many of my blogger buddies have quit blogging, as you can see from visiting the sites on my blog roll (which I just realized I accidentally deleted...I guess it's time to clean house.) Some have said goodbye, like dear Meg, one of my very first friends here, while others have simply disappeared.

It seems like an infertility blog is a hard place to keep coming to once you've achieved the ultimate goal--children. If you're trying for more, you usually stick around, and the blog remains laregly about infertility. If you're done building your family, your blog becomes focused on your kid(s). Those blogs are often twinged with survivor's guilt, and either they morph into a new Mommy blog or they simply end.

Then there is me. I have my two wonderful babies, and I'm done family building. Not because I want to be done, but because I have to be. There will be no more treatments for me. Adoption is highly unlikely given my financials these days. Plus, I feel like couples without any kids yet should have the first shot at adopting...(you know, the whole survivor's guilt thing.)So do I keep blogging as an infertile? Do I convert to a Mommy blog? I still feel like the only place people really get me is right here.

I have two close friends struggling with infertility in my real life now. One is on the road to adoption after failed treatments, the other is on the road to treatment.
Infertility has scarred my life, and I hate to watch it up close and personal as it scars those close to me.

I'm sick of the way infertility is treated by the media. The whole Oprah thing with Jenna made me livid. I'm sick of infertility being thought of as something that only strikes those who waited too long to have kids or those who waited too long to get married. I married young and my infertility certainly wasn't caused by age. Nor was the infertility of so many of those I know.

And if infertility does result because you didn't find the right partner until you were in your 30s, does that really make you any less deserving of some empathy??? Because you chose to bring kids into the world once you were ready rather than when you were too young, unemployed, or with the wrong guy?

So I've read that one in eight women are struck by cancer. One in six couples are struck with infertility. Everybody bands together against cancer. Shouldn't we all be banding together against infertility? Infertility might not kill you, per say, but it kills the family you are meant to have. How can people not see that? For those who can't afford treatment, infertility kills the family members you'll never meet.

I know much has been said along these lines and mostly we are preaching to the choir. If we can make any difference at all, it will be worth it to those who continue the struggle.

Happy Thanksgiving

2007-11-27T05:19:00.000-08:00

I hope everyone had a great Thanskgiving. Ours was really nice. The boys did great and we had a small gathering with my side of the family.

I was feeling pretty good all weekend until I got the letter from my insurance company saying that my abdominal surgery would not be covered. Evidently it doesn't matter to them that my muscle separation is the size of a entire hand rather than the normal 1 or 2 finger gap that you usually see in abdominoplasty patients. Nor does the fact that you can see my intestines moving just under the skin whenever I'm laying down. Because I don't have a "true hernia" (at least not yet), the surgery is considered cosmetic. Yeah, because having your intestines bulge out is just about looks...

Oh God.

I have three doctors willing to write letters to my insurance about the medical neccesity of having my muscles sewn back together, but somehow I don't think it will matter. So I now have to save up about 8 grand to pay for the procedure, which will be done in an outpatient surgical facility. This scares me to death. As much as I don't want to be back in the hospital, I'm really scared about having such a serious surgery done and going home the same day. But that's how cosmetic surgery is handled. If insurance would cover it, they could insist on a hospital stay.

I just feel so torn about what to do. Clearly I can't spend the rest of my life with my intestines putting on a show for me every evening after dinner. I need the surgery. But I'm so afraid of the complications. Some pretty bad stuff could happen to me as a result of the surgery, including death. Even though the odds of complications are low, I've managed to be one of the "lucky" few twice now (Only .08%of women experience HELLP and only a very low percentage of people require IVF with ICSI to conceive, while 16% of abdominoplasty patients experience complications.) Do I push my luck a third time? I've met two surgeons who seem cautious to operate on me, and one who is ready to do it tomorrow. (It seems to come down to experience--two of the docs just weren't qualified.) I'm going to seek a few more opinions yet seeing as I have to wait now to save the money anyway.

This sucks.

I feel like my life is finally moving on, but the stomach issue is holding me back and can't be ignored. I just wish there was a simple answer.

Hooray for Jamie!

2007-11-20T10:21:00.000-08:00

One of my best blogger buds is in labor right this very moment. Please wish her luck and good wishes!

One thing I love about this community is celebrating with everyone when their dreams are finally realized.

Farewell Fertility

2007-11-15T07:03:00.000-08:00

After staring at the paperwork from the initial consultation for almost 3 months, H called this week to schedule his vasectomy. It really sucks that he has to do this; that essentially we have to slam one final nail into the coffin that contains our fertility. I mean, our one “up side” to this whole infertility thing was that we’d never worry about birth control again and that we could hold on to a little spark of hope that maybe we’d spontaneously get pregnant one day. Well, my docs have all agreed that another pregnancy would be very dangerous for me, so we can’t take that risk. Now we’re going to be infertiles with no hope of future treatment. I’m so grateful we have two kids, because I know if we only had one child the vasectomy would be a lot harder on us. It’s still hard though. Having twins is like having an only child in some ways…you only get to go through these precious baby stages once and when they’re over, they’re over for good. The hard part with twins is that in addition to only going through this once, you’re going through it at warp speed. You can only focus so much on one baby until the other baby needs you. There’s little time to just sit back and enjoy them. Of course, I know if we had only one baby I’d be busy obsessing about when/if I could have or adopt another. So all in all, it just sucks to be an infertile no matter how you look at it, no matter how successful a treatment was for you. I’ll never be over our infertility. It has changed our lives in too dramatic of a way. I still cringe at pregnancy announcements and big bellies. It doesn’t hurt as much, but it does hurt. I imagine it will be pretty hard for me when my sister gets pregnant with her second.

The good news is that I’m finding more things to be happy about every day. The babies interact with us so much more now, and when they laugh I feel a joy like no other. The one likes to babble at me a lot. He’ll take my face with both of his hands and stare intently into my eyes, babbling away. Then he’ll open his mouth wide and plunge at my face, trying to eat my hair, my nose, my cheeks. This make me laugh like nothing else in the world. I like to think he’s trying to give me a kiss, but he’s at that phase where he just wants to out everything into his mouth. Both of them are rolling around and pushing up like champs. I expect the one to start crawling any day now. I really like this phase—they do a lot more but they’re not yet mobile. Wish we could stay here for awhile. I’ve stopped feeling so incredibly overwhelmed, as the boys both nap in their cribs now and do a decent job sleeping through the night. Their crying has decreased a great deal, which also helps a lot.

So, that’s how things are right now. I’m waiting to see if my insurance will cover the surgery to repair my abdomen. If it does, I’ll likely schedule the surgery for sometime this winter. I’m scared about it but I also want to get it over with so that I can finally heal completely and move on. Therapy is going okay. It’s not all that exciting most of the time. I hope it’s helping but I don’t really know. I know I feel better than I did a few weeks ago when I placed the initial call, but I feel like that also has a lot to do with the babies getting easier to handle. And the fact that they look at me when I call their name, laugh when I tickle them, and prefer me over everyone else, except sometimes their daddy.

Therapy 101

2007-10-29T07:44:00.000-07:00

In case you’re all dying to know how my first therapy session went, I won’t leave you in suspense any longer. It went about as well as I could expect—leaving me, brimming with emotion, wondering just how many sessions it will take for me to “rewire” my reactions so that I can cope with all the crap that has happened to me and keeps coming my way.

What I learned in the first session wasn’t all that surprising—I have low self esteem stemming from how my parents raised me. You see, when you constantly discourage your kid from being what they want to be and constantly call into question all of their decisions, and even go so far as to proclaim that they must love a food that they have repeatedly sworn they hate, the kid starts to call into question everything they feel. They start to mistrust themselves. The kid ultimately develops a very low self esteem. That kid, desperate for their parents’ approval, becomes an overachiever and to the outside world appears to be quite a success. The kid becomes keenly observant of the people around them in their quest to obtain parental approval and therefore make tons of friends because of their ability to listen and dole out helpful advice. In the meantime, their own emotions get bottled up until they become such a burden that the kid can no longer deal with them. Therefore the kid becomes depressed and prone to anxiety attacks. Throw in some major life issues to deal with, and the kid can no longer function without seeking therapy. I’m so textbook it’s scary.

I’m not here to blame my parents, but I’ve known forever that their brand of parenting wasn’t--and still isn’t--very helpful for a healthy self esteem. Whenever I expressed interest in something, I was told--oh, you don’t want to do that--or I was told why I shouldn’t do that. This pattern has continued right into adulthood, as I faced infertility and was told by one of my parents that I shouldn’t do fertility treatments, and if they were faced with the same issue, they would choose to be childless.

All of the mentors in my life have recognized my self esteem issues and have asked me how someone as successful and smart as me could have such a problem. Well, I’ve always known the answer to that. I didn’t need therapy to tell me. What I need to know is how to fix it. Because I’m not going to repeat this pattern with my boys. Period.

The Next Step Forward

2007-10-22T06:25:00.001-07:00

I’m finally pulling the trigger on some much needed therapy. I’m nervous about it, and I keep second guessing whether I really am depressed enough to seek counseling, but I’ve decided to go through with it and see what happens. After all, it can only make things better, right? I had a few rough days last week where I was just so down I couldn’t stand it. It was tough making the call for a referral—you get so many questions—but after I told my situation to the counselor on the phone, she told me how surprised she was that I was coping as well as I have been and that I definitely should seek some help ASAP, not only pick up the pieces but to be able to get though my impending abdomen surgery (more on that later).

What are my symptoms? I’m unmotivated about work, I have little interest in seeing friends, I’m sad more often than not, I have emotional breakdowns after every doctor’s appointment, I feel sick when thinking about a future hospital stay, and yes, I’ve occasionally thought that I’d be better off dead. But only occasionally. Most of the time I’m happy to be here, even though I’m unhappy about so many things that have happened to me. I don’t believe I’d cause myself any harm and I certainly wouldn’t harm anyone else. But sometimes I don’t want to be around anyone, and that scares me. Sometimes, when I’m alone with the boys for a few hours after work, I just want to call H and tell him to come home early because I can’t take being alone with them. This doesn’t happen often, but it does happen.

I’m tired of feeling sad more often than I feel happy. I want to snap out of it. H is also having a hard time. It’s hard to feel happy when I see how depressed he is too. I’m hoping therapy will provide me with an outlet and an objective person who will help me come to terms with my emotions and teach me how to handle them in a more productive way.

For awhile, this blog was my “therapy.” I could get things off my chest, and get some good feedback from others in the same boat, but now I feel like I need to take the next step in getting better. Occasionally I get a comment from an anonymous person who tells me I need to “get over myself” and stop complaining. Those comments (which I refuse to post since the person doesn’t have the guts to say who they are) always send me reeling. Maybe I am too self-centered. Maybe I should just get over it and focus on the positive. But then I have to laugh. I mean, this blog is about me, after all. Why should I have to “get over myself” when writing it? If I did, what would I have to write about? I’m not sure how many people care about what I have to say. I like to think my blog helps some people who are going through what I’ve been though. I’ve also made friends here who I think are genuinely interested in what’s going on in my life. To the people who think I need to “get over” myself, I say—don’t waste your time reading my blog. My blog may not be for you, and I can respect that. But my blog is first and foremost an outlet for me. It’s not about gaining readers or popularity. I hope my story can help other people and that’s also why I tell it. I know reading other people’s blogs helps me feel less alone in this whole mess.

Anyhow, that’s what’s on my mind lately. The boys are doing great and I’m plugging along. I hope I’m on the road to a complete recovery. I’m going to do everything I can to be a better, happier person for my kids. I have to believe that there will be a happy ending to all this. You might say I’ve already gotten my happy ending, but it’s just not that cut and dry.

A Day in the Life of a Working Mom with Twins

2007-09-26T07:58:00.000-07:00

I knew from the beginning that given my financial needs and my personality, I would be a working mom. Going back to work was hard for the first week, but it really has done wonders for my overall sanity. I miss the babies like crazy while I’m away and I worry about them, but I also feel like I’m a better mother to them after having some time for myself. I don’t regret the decision at all, but I also acknowledge that I might change my mind about it in a year or two when the boys are older. It has shocked me to see how many women (mostly relatives) are shocked that I went back to work, especially since most of them went back to work themselves after they had their own kids. It seems that they all expected me to stay home even though I was upfront about going back to work from the very beginning. For whatever reason, they seem to think that going back to work when you have one baby is fine, but going back to work with twins is unthinkable. Um, hi—do you know how much diapers and formula costs?

Luckily I work with a lot of moms around my age and they have been a wonderful support system for me. Watching them and talking to them about their kids shows me that being a working mom is not crazy or selfish.

As far as feedings and schedules, it does get easier around the 3 month mark. I saw real progress when the boys hit 4 months. We aren’t successful at feeding them at the same time in bouncy chairs (way too messy), so what we try to do is stagger their feedings by about 30 minutes. We feed one and then the other, and most days that works out just fine. Occasionally they will decide they are both starving at the same exact moment and that’s horrible if you are alone, but it rarely happens these days. So, when A wakes at 5 a.m. to eat, his brother is still asleep 90 percent of the time. H feeds him, puts him back to bed, then feeds B, who is sometimes still asleep or just starting to wake up. By feeding them one right after another, this sets up the 30 minute gap between their feedings for the day.

Here’s how our schedule has been lately:

5:00 am: A awakes and is fed

5:30 am: B awakes or is woken and is fed

6:00 am: I leave for work

Both babies go back to sleep until anywhere between 7:00 and 7:30.

H leaves for work at 7:30 and our au pair takes over.

Babies are awake and happy to play.

Baby A eats around 8:00

Baby B eats around 8:30

Naps are attempted around 9:30-10:00 and last until the next feeding if we’re lucky.

Babies eat again between 12:00 and 12:30

Afternoon naps are often taken around 1:30-2:00.

Babies eat again around 3:00-3:30.

I get home at 4:00 and play with the babies, who are usually very active and pleasant this time of day if naps were successful.

5:30: I make dinner while the babies watch.

6:00: H and I wolf down our food as the babies start to fuss.

6:15-6:30: H and I both take a baby to feed for the final feeding of the day. This feeding, the most important and predictable of our day, always consists of at least 6 ounces.

7:00-7:30: The babies get their baths—H and I each take care of a baby.

7:30 pm: Both babies are in their cribs with lights out. They are falling asleep faster and faster with less fussing each night.

8:00: The babies are asleep and H and I get our one hour together before we go to bed at 9:00.

Anywhere between 2:00 and 3:30 am: Baby B usually calls out for a pacifier or diaper change but quickly goes back to sleep

5:00 am: The process starts all over

Hope some of this helps. I found the best thing was setting their bedtime at 7:30 and having a predictable routine each night starting with the 6:15-6:30 bottle. No matter how bad the day has been, their bedtime routine has resulted in two sleeping babies by 8:00 for the last two months. This has been wonderful, because I know that no matter how bad things have been, everyone will be calm at 8:00 and stay that way for at least 5 or 6 hours.

Now that I’ve written out an actual schedule I’m just waiting for a sleep regression to come and mess it all up.

Hit the Pause Button

2007-09-25T05:16:00.000-07:00

I spend so much of my life waiting for "the next step" rather than living in the moment. When I was going through infertility treatments, all I wanted was to be pregnant. When I was pregnant, I looked forward to the babies actually being here. Now that the babies are here, I'm anticipating their first words and being able to actually go places with them, like the zoo.

I need to slow down. This morning, when H got up to feed the babies at 5 a.m., I got up to help him instead of getting an extra 15 minutes of sleep before work. He didn't need my help, but I wanted to feed one of my boys. They won't need these early morning feedings much longer. I want to treasure this time.

I didn't know that having twins would be this hard for me to handle. I didn't know how tough it would be to split my attention between the two of them. A laughed for the first time yesterday while H tickled him, and I couldn't really hear him because I was comforting a screaming B. There's rarely time to just sit and marvel at them. Would time please slow down for me?

Since these are my first and perhaps only babies (we haven't ruled out adoption one day), I'm trying to really live each moment with them. It's so hard. I want to scoop both of them up in my arms at the same time when I get home from work but I can't. I give myself permission to buy them super cute but expensive clothes from Gym.boree because this may be the only time I get to go through this. I cry when I look at the newborn pictures taken the first few weeks of their lives while I was still in the hospital because I wasn't there and I can't have that time with them back. I am finally coming out of the cloud that I think was a mixture of PPD and PTS. As hard as everything has been, it was all worth it. I finally feel again.

Sleep and Such

2007-09-24T05:06:00.000-07:00

I had a wonderful weekend with the babies. As you may have noticed, I'm rather undecided on how to refer to the boys in my blog--I want to keep things anonymous--so I think I'll just refer to them as A and B. It seems too impersonal, but I think it's for the best as I still don't want people I know reading my blog.

Anyhow, A slept all night long both Saturday and Sunday without a single peep. B only woke about twice for some minor comforting. It was great. I've learned however that this could change at any moment, so I'm not going to expect this trend to continue. I'm still taking things one day at a time. I also spent a lot of the weekend on nap training and was able to get the boys to take all of their naps in their crib this weekend. Unfortunately their naps were much shorter than usual, but at least we're making progress. The secret so far has been putting the boys down earlier than I normally do, so that they're not already overtired when I start the nap process with them. At least, I think this is the secret. They could just be messing with me. A has mastered rolling over, and as a result I've spent a lot of time checking on him and pulling him back to his side when I find him on his stomach asleep. He awakes for a moment when I roll him back and grunts his annoyaance but falls back asleep. With this new development, I've been sleeping less as he's been sleeping more because I keep checking on him all night. I still can't see how my best friend lets her newborn sleep on his stomach and even puts him down that way. I certainly don't want anything bad to happen to him, so please understand that when I complain about how easy everything has been for her--from conception to childbirth to her baby sleeping through the night, albeit on his stomach--it's not that I wish she had a hard time like I did or anything. God, no, I wouldn't wish what happened to me on anybody. I just marvel at how she takes everything for granted, especially after the hell I've been through. But whatever. I'm moving on.

My good friend at work--one of the only people who knows that I did IVF- has started going through her own testing for IF. She's been trying for over a year now and finally gotten up the courage to talk to her doctor about it. Her initial ultrasound showed a lot of cysts, but the docs don't really know anything yet. My heart is breaking for her. She came out of her first appointment shell shocked, just as I did a year and a half ago. I'm glad she knows about what I went through so we can talk openly about it now. She was a major shoulder for me to lean on last year, and she now takes some comfort in the fact that I've been through this and can help her through it. H is afraid that I'll be reliving too much of everything by being there for her, but I don't think it will be a problem. One of the only good things to come out of my experience is that I can be there for other people who are struggling. My friend has commented that no one else listens to her the way I do--she now sees for herself that that only people who have been through this really get it. I wish this was something she never had to learn. I've directed her to the blogosphere, so you may be seeing her around in some form or another soon. I don't know what I would have done without my blog friends. Thank you all for being there.

It'll Be Okay

2007-09-20T04:33:00.000-07:00

I've spent so many posts complaining lately that I want to acknowledge that I really am starting to feel better emotionally overall. I have many, many more good moments than bad ones with the babies now, and even when things get tough, like when Baby B decides to pee on me while Baby A is screaming to be fed, I take it much more in stride. The babies are really cute, and I'm trying to enjoy this time as much as possible. They've started interacting a tiny bit with each other, which is so fun to watch. I'm happy I get to be their Mom.

Yesterday I tried to get them to nap in their cribs again thinking it might be easier now that their night sleep has improved, and that was just a big old excercise in futility. Not only were we all miserable, they didn't get any decent nap time and last night they awoke quite a few times in the 2:00-4:00 a.m. range. H and I are exhausted today. I love how easy the sleep books make their "programs" sound. I know I have to keep trying though, because soon they'll really be too big to nap in their bouncy chairs. Please keep the nap tips coming...especially you twin moms out there!

One Year Later

2007-09-18T08:04:00.000-07:00

A year ago I was in 2WW hell, about to find out that I was pregnant. Looking at my posts from that period, I was much more in control and on top of things than I feel now, even though I remember vividly what a difficult time it was. I was propelled with the hope of what could be even though I was scared. Now that I've faced almost losing my life and all chances at having a normal child-bearing experience, I find I'm a very different person. I'm tired. I am so very grateful for my two babies, but I am so tired emotionally.

Things are getting better with the babies every day, but in some ways I know I'll never heal from this experience. I called my uberfertile former best friend last week, who just had her second unplanned baby. She joyfully recounted how easy the birthing process was. Four pushes and he was out! She complained about all the little sleeping noises and grunts he makes and matter-of-factly stated that she puts him on his stomach to sleep because he gets more rest that way. The poor thing is only 2 weeks old and she's putting him on his stomach to sleep. Um, hello, you do know about SIDS, right? She answers that she did this with her first baby and she survived.

Now when people ask me if I plan on having more kids, I simply answer that I can't. The chance of HELLP recurring is too high so the doctors have forbidden it. You wouldn't believe the pity I see on people's faces. It surprises me. I'm an infertile with no hope of treatment now, and knowing there's nothing I can do about it does give me an odd sense of calm. Granted, I'm still pissed off that I can't get pregnant like most women I know, but that desperate longing I once felt is gone. I've had my experience, and while it wasn't a smooth ride at the end, I got to feel what it's like to grow two little people. Now I just need to accept that I have a body that failed its job in delivering and feeding those two little people, and that jackasses like my former best friend will always make me feel the sting of the injustice of it all.

Beautiful

2007-09-04T04:48:00.000-07:00

After a few very rough days before I went back to work last week, things started looking a little brighter. Now it seems that I am starting to have a few more good days than bad ones, so perhaps I am starting to turn the corner on this whole depression thing.

The boys were baptized this weekend, and it was absolutely beautiful. Everything went amazingly well, and for once our babies weren't the ones crying. My sister's newborn did the honors of squacking her head off during the party. That made me feel much, much better, since the past 2 weeks it's been my boys causing a commotion at family gatherings. The boys were attentive and pleasant during the ceremony, and then they slept like angels at the restaurant afterwards where we had the party. I am so glad we ignored my MIL's constant pestering to have the party at our house, because being able to just relax and enjoy the day out was so much better than trying to host something at our house. It was expensive but worth every penny. I have no idea how we would have cleaned and cooked for a party of that size with twins.

MIL, however, seemed sorely disappointed that she couldn't camp out at our house with all her side of the family who came from out of town. She still managed to come up with an excuse to get all of her relatives over to our house afterwards, but it was only for a few minutes luckily. She wanted everyone to have a tour of our house, and H obliged but made a point of saying that we weren't up to entertaining with twins (I mean, the whole reason we paid to have the party elsewhere is because we didn't have time to prepare the house for guests!). She was pouty all day, but I couldn't feel bad about it because it is just so hard to get anything done around the house with two babies, especially when one is still colicky and neither of them wanted to sleep through the night this week. I don't understand why she can't see how exhausted we are as it is. The weirdest thing--in the middle of the party, once both boys woke up from their naps, she asked H is he would do her a favor. Sure, he said...what is it? She asked if she could take the babies back to our house now that they were awake and have some time alone with them. Uhhh, no....H replied. Everybody here drove a long way to see the babies and this is their party...why would you take them from it??? Weird.

The thing is, she sees the babies a lot. It's not like she's getting less time with them than my parents. I think she misses the times when we had to rely on her to help take care of them by herself while I was sick, though I know she's genuinely glad I'm better. I think she got too much of a taste of playing "mom" instead of "grandmom." And the thing is, I'm not giving up my rights as Mom at these events, now that I'm finally in the picture. We let her feed one of the babies during the party, but H and I remained the babies' primary caregivers. Now that we're both back at work, the weekends are our main time to interact with the babies too, and we're not willing to just pass them off. We're making up for a lot of lost bonding time.

Anyhow, aside from MIL being MIL, everything was really nice and I think everyone had a really good time. H's brothers actually made it (his one brother has never visited us the entire time we have been married) and the weather couldn't have been better.

As far as me being back at work, I'm doing pretty well with it. I miss the babies a lot while I'm gone, but the separation also gives me a chance to recharge and be better with them once I get home. Also, my abdomen/hernia has been bothering me a lot more lately, so having a break from lifting them all day is probably good for my healing. Being at work has given me back a slice of my identity before this whole thing went down, and that's been good for me. My co-workers are so great, and my managers are being very understanding in letting me ease back into a full schedule while I continue to heal. So, really, right now I think things are as good as they could be. I'm concerned about my hernia, though, and will be making a few more doctor's appointments this week.

Are there any twin moms out there reading who had a hernia repaired after their delivery?

Seeking Help

2007-08-21T12:08:00.000-07:00

I really, really appreciate the outpouring of responses to my last post. Yes, I feel this bad quite frequently, but things overall are getting better. I feel even worse for admitting how bad I feel, because ultimately, the most important thing of all in my whole pregnancy/birthing experience DID go right... I have two very healthy babies, even if they do cry a lot and aren't sleeping through the night, unlike all the babies my friends have just delivered. (I think there is this conspiracy amongst some new mothers (especially the fertile ones who were so good at making you feel like shit during your fertility treatments) to make you feel like you and your baby are complete failures compared to them...will explain later.)

I thank God every day that it was me in the hospital and not the babies, and that it was my life on the line, not theirs. My heart goes out to those people who went through what I did and lost their baby on top of it...I am so, so sorry. Knowing how lucky I am to have my babies makes me feel even worse for struggling so much right now. It's time I sought some help, for real, because I don't want my memories of my boys' first year overshadowed by depression. I'm glad to hear about the preeclampsia site and will be heading that way...the problem always is finding the time. Somehow, I need to make the time to get the support I need.

Talking to other mothers in "real life" just isn't cutting it right now. Every time I talk to the neighbor of mine down the street who had twins three weeks before me, she makes me feel like slitting my wrists. You know, I thought I'd have the perfect friend in her--we're both raising twins the same age, we both had c-sections, and we both have to have our abdominal muscles repaired at some point this year. Well, I call her to commiserate on how rough some of the nights have been lately, and when she asks how I'm doing and I tell her how exhausted I am all the time, she says in a snooty voice..."Really? And you have help at home!" (Referring to our au pair) Yeah, well, the au pair isn't working the night shift and mainly right now her job is to be with the babies while I go to my upteen million doctor's appointments because in case you've forgotten I almost died, Be-otch!!! (This is all said in my head, of course). When I tell her how the au pair stays with the babies while I'm at the doctor's, she actually chastised me for not bringing them out with me!!!!! She told me I had to get used to bringing them out sooner or later. Hello? Why would I want to bring them to germy doctor offices? And no, I don't need to take them out if I don't want to. I think it's more important they have a good schedule at home with their naps, thank you. Compound this by how she expressed shock that I was planning to go back to work (her words--"do you think the au pair will really be able to give your babies the attention and care that you would give them?") and then her bragging about how her babies always nap perfectly in their crib twice a day and that I better make mine do it now or I'll be sorry, and you can see why I might feel a little down about myself. With friends like that, who needs enemies, right? Would you believe she actually ended the conversation by suggesting we get together for a play date soon? Ha! So, sometimes it seems that when I reach out to talk to people, I only end up feeling much, much worse. As far as the other twin mom, her husband tells me that things are not nearly as perfect at home with their twins as she likes to suggest. Go figure.

I applaud all you mothers out there in blgland, both fertile and infertile, who can be honest about how tough all this is. Thank you for being there.

What's Wrong With Me?

2007-08-20T11:25:00.000-07:00

I have to admit that I am really struggling to remain sane most days, especially when my sleep the night before has been bad or minimal. I think I'm still struggling with depression. I had another doctor appointment on Friday, this time with someone who hadn't seen me before, and I was again told how surprised this doctor was that I lived through what happened to me and am recovering. I keep getting told that the few other HELLP patients the doctors have treated have all died. No one seems to know what to tell me now because they never made it this far with their patients. It makes me extremely depressed, though I suppose I should be thrilled to be the one who lived. It's just hard to wrap your head around it. The fact that you should have died from how bad things were. The fact that you're recovering but no one really knows how long the full recovery will take and whether there will be any lasting impacts. The fact that every doctor who looks at your deformed abdomen with your intestines swirling around and says, no--I've never seen anything like that before, and I'm not sure how to fix it. It makes me want to cry alot.

I'm glad my body was tough enough to carry twins for as long as it did and tough enough to survive one of the worst cases of HELLP syndrome ever, but I am pretty pissed and depressed that EVERYTHING about my childbearing experience has been "unnatural." I couldn't get pregnant on my own. I couldn't deliver vaginally. I couldn't breatsfeed because of my condition. I couldn't come home with my babies from the hospital and spend their first month of life with them. Everything about the whole damn experience has SUCKED. I feel like a complete failure for not being able to breastfeed. I feel like a bad mother for not being able to say, "but despite everything bad that happened, it was so worth it." This is not the most gratifying thing I have ever done. The babies are very, very difficult to handle. Am I absolutely horrible for saying that??? Sadly, it feels true right now. The birth of my babies was not the best day of my life, and it should have been. Getting pregnant should have been a joyous experience, and thanks to IF, it wasn't. My maternity leave should be a wonderful bonding time with my boys, and really it's just been about my survival.

I love the babies, but I feel so overwhelmed and helpless that sometimes I think they'd be better off without me. Horrible thoughts, I know. But the thoughts are there, and I have to deal. All of this is compounded of course by the fact that my boys are not "easy" babies like every other baby my friends seem to have. They cry a lot. They aren't hitting a lot of the milestones as quickly as their younger cousin, which is of course constantly pointed out to me. "Oh, she is already reacting to this and doing that; your boys aren't????" It was bad enough having my IF pregnancy compared to my sister's natural pregnancy; it's worse having my boys compared to her girl. "Oh, she hardly ever cries; oh, she drinks 8 ounces every bottle; oh...oh...oh."

I. Hate. It.

Help please, I'm drowning here. Please tell me it gets easier?

Sleep Makes Me a Better Person

2007-08-13T17:31:00.000-07:00

Thanks for all your comments about the napping situation. Two weeks ago, I was spending my entire day trying to get the boys to nap in their cribs when they would start to drift off in their chairs, and it was making both them and me extremely frustrated. If I could get them to nap in a crib, it would only last 30 minutes tops. If I turned the swing/bouncy seats off and left them alone to nap there in a quiet room, they would take great 2 hours naps, morning and afternoon. I was driving our au pair crazy because the boys would be fast asleep in their seats and I would start "nap training" and create unbelievable chaos.

Since H and I were also working on improving the boys' night time sleep (trying to cut down from 2 night feedings to just 1), I decided to quit being the Nap Nazi and let them get their rest during the day so that feasibly they would be better prepared for night sleep. Sleep begets sleep is what the Sleep Lady book I have says--that's the system I've been working with since day one. By easing off the crib nap requirements, I had more will power to work with the boys at night. The plan was to feed them at 7, have them asleep by 8, and then feed them once, and only once, between then and 6 am. This was quite the power struggle, but I am most happy to report that after one week of enduring extreme sleep deprivation, H and I won the battle. On Thursday, the boys went to bed at 8 and did not awake until 1 am for their feeding, and then did not awake again until 6:30. On Friday, they lasted until 2 am and stayed in bed until 7:00. On Saturday night, they slept until 4 am before needing to be fed!!! Now, these much improved nights have not been completely perfect--one twin almost always awakes around 11 or 12 for a diaper change, but the improved sleep has made me a much, much happier person. I figure I'll resume nap training once we have a few more good nights. Really, I don't think it's a big deal if they nap in their chairs, as long as they are not relying on the motion to sleep, which they aren't. I've been moving one of them into the nursery in his chair and turning on the monitor while I sit with the one who sleeps less downstairs in a quiet room. So far, all of us are happy.

On that note, it's time for me to go to bed...:(
More later!

In the Middle of the Night

2007-08-05T00:04:00.000-07:00

Just sitting here listening to the twin formerly known as Baby A making raptor noises in his sleep. H can somehow sleep through the little chirps and squacks he makes but I can't. The boys are about to turn three months, and I have one month left of maternity leave. I know that I'll just be starting to find the babies really interesting when it's time for me to leave them all day for work, and that sucks. I'm feeling some guilt about going back to work, but it's not like it's a choice--we can't afford for me to stay home. Our au pair is working out nicely and I think she'll do very well with them. I hate the idea of her spending more time with them than me though. She's overly helpful in some ways, and so when the day is over and she should be officially off duty, I get a little peeved when she still runs to them when they make any little noises. I shouldn't feel this way...I mean, shouldn't I be relieved there is someone to help my one crying baby while I'm tending to his crying brother? I just feel like I should be doing it all.

I'm still trying to feel like a real mom. I just don't know what to do sometimes, especially as I'm trying to get the babies to learn to take their morning and afternoon naps in their cribs instead of their bouncy seats. I feel incompetent. They both with be sound alseep in their bouncy seats, but the moment I try to lay them in a crib they scream bloody murder. At least we have a good bedtime routine and they go to sleep fairly easily in their cribs at the same time every night. The nights are still rough with lots of awakenings (hence this post), but they are starting to go for longer stretches without feedings at night.

Any advice on getting twins to nap in their cribs is greatly appreciated. I'd be happy to show the twins firsthand how it can be done as I am sleep deprived and find their crib ensemble soft and appealing, but I don't think that would work.

I'll Drink To That

2007-07-30T11:57:00.000-07:00

My liver doctor is very pleased with my improvement and tells me that my liver is pretty much healed now, at last. The best proof of my liver's restored health is that he said I could have a glass of wine or beer with dinner. He just reminded me not to do any happy hours or anything. :)So, I did have a small glass of beer with H to celebrate that night (there was no wine in the house, my preferred drink.) It was more of a symbolic act than anything; I don't plan to do even moderate drinking any more. Maybe a one nice glass of wine on a special occassion every now and then, but that's it.

The doctor says that with my liver looking better, my main concern needs to be with my abdomen, which is still distended and full of intestines that aren't protected by the muscle wall. I'm told not to lift anything heavy. The abdomen has gone down significantly in size, however, and I can now wear girdle-like things that pull the whole stomach in so that I actually almost look like my former self if you stand back and squint a little. In fact, I bought a dress from Ann Ta.ylor yesterday for the boy's baptism that is only one size up from my normal dress size. And get this...the reason I needed the larger size was do to my still-enlarged bust, not my tummy. Hooray for that! While my chest is still a double D, it's not a nice double D like before I delivered. It's all deflated and droopy. I feel like my boobs just hang there. It kinda sucks. I need to do some bra shopping again.

Other changes with my body...my linea nigra scrubbed off in the shower today like a cheap fake tattoo. How weird is that? The belly skin is disgusting and crepe-like, but soft. The bad part is that I have the worst strecth marks you have ever seen along my sides, on the tops of my thighs, on my hips, and all the way down the undersides of my calves. These stretch marks are due to the way I blew up with fluid after I delivered; they are not because of the actual pregancy. They are truly horrendous, and my doctor says they will be with me for life. I feel like a zebra the way they stripe along my sides. It will be one-pieces for me from here on out. Somnetimes I'm very depressed about how disfigured I look with them, but when I consider the alternative to what happened to me, I just count myself lucky. I'm here, a little war-torn, but here.

The babies are doing great and are growing fast. I love them more each day. I get very tired some days and I often wonder what H and I have gotten ourselves into, but I know it's all worth it.

The New Normal

2007-07-27T04:51:00.000-07:00

I'm still here...I'm just finding it hard to blog with the twins and Stefanie, our new au pair, to look after. Stefanie arrived last Thursday night from Germany and is a very nice girl. She's 19, and has experience watching baby boys, but ones that were a little older than my twins. Because the boys are still so small, she's rather timid around them, and I certainly wouldn't leave her alone with them yet. I have a month to "train" her before I go back to work. I figure if I can take care of them by myself with a bum liver, she'll be able to also.

On the liver front, things are continuing to get better. Most of my blood test results from last Friday are in the normal range now. Only my bilirubin remains elevated...so my eyes are still yellow.

Alas...a baby squeals; more later, I hope!

Home Alone!...with Babies!

2007-07-12T17:49:00.000-07:00

Last week I finally had some good news...my blood tests showed improvement in my liver function. While my liver enzymes are still not in the normal range, they are much better, so talk of a biopsy appears to be off the table. Thank goodness! Thank you all for the prayers and good wishes. I was really worried that my condition had stagnated.

I moved back home with the babies and H on July 4, our own little independence day. H was off with me for the long weekend, and then MIL stayed with me Monday and Tuesday. After I saw that I could handle the babies much better on my own than with MIL, she went home and I have been alone with them for the past two days. It has been tiring for sure, but so wonderful. I am finally their Mom in the way I imagined I would be. I've definitely started to bond more with them the past few weeks, and I see them developing a preference for me as well. After all the people who have handled them the past two months, it is a relief to see that they do seem to recognize the woman who carried them for 37 weeks and then disappeared for almost a month.

Now I have one week to be alone with them and H before our au pair arrives. I am excited about her arrival and I know it's the right child care choice for us, but I'm sad that our time as just a family of 4 has been so brief.

Diapers, Doctors, and Die Hard

2007-06-29T09:59:00.000-07:00

These are the three things that have kept me from blogging lately. I've gotten a significant amount of my strength back, so I have been able to care for the babies almost full-time during the day. In fact, I was completely on my own with them from 9 am to 5 pm on Tuesday because my mom had some doctor's appointments of her own. I was scared at first, but everything went really well and I managed to get the boys fed, diapered, and bathed without having to leave either one of them cry for too long. When they both decide to have a meltdown at the same time things get very tricky, but I've been managing to multi-task between the two of them very well. I even did their laundry and made a few phone calls.

While I feel better and stronger, my body is still taking its good old time healing. I've had many doctor's appointments since my last post, and things still look crappy for me. Let's see--where to start? Well, my OB thought I'd need a D&C to remove some remaining products of conception. We did an ultrasound, and they saw a little spot of something in the cervical canal, but the OB decided it wasn't worth doing the D&C. (a D&C would be risky for me now anyway because of my liver and clotting issues) I seemed to get a light period last week, but it was a brighter red than normal. Could have been the stuff they saw on the ultrasound. Then the bleeding stopped. Now it has started again. The OB has no idea what to make of any of it.

Next, my liver enzymes are still testing the same (crappy), which isn't good. The liver specialist wants to see some improvement by now. If he doesn't see improvement soon, he feels I should have a liver biopsy done. This is also risky. I had more bloodwork done yesterday and am praying that we'll have some better results. I'm not nearly as yellow as I was when I got home, so something with the liver must be working.

I saw my general practitioner yesterday and he said my urine is full of bile still and "looks absolutely awful," and he again emphasized how surprised he is that I'm alive. Ugh. Getting sick of hearing that. He also has nothing to tell me treatment wise. We're supposed to just sit and wait for my body to heal itself.

I have an appointment with a surgeon today to assess my abdomen, which is still the size of a small kick-ball. When I lean back, you can see all of my intestines moving. It is truly gross. The docs thought I might have a major hernia, but we did a CAT scan last week and it didn't show one. The stomach muscle may just be stretched super thin from the twin pregnancy and subsequent swelling. The surgeon today will assess whether I'll need the stomach muscle repaired in order to bring my intestines back into where they belong. If I do need surgery, I won't be able to have it done until my liver is healed. In the meantime, I have to be very careful not to lift anything heavy or let anything hit or compress my stomach.

Finally, to the last item occuppying my time--Die Hard. H got all three of the original movies on DVD for Christmas, and we've been watching them over the past two weeks after the boys have settled down for the evening. Last night, my parents offered to babysit so we could go see Live Free or Die Hard. I didn't want to go at first--I was depressed about all the doctor's visits and I felt guilty leaving the boys, but I ended up really enjoying the movie. I highly recommend it. It made me laugh my ass off, and that is a hard thing to make me do these days. :)

Progression

2007-06-16T19:54:00.001-07:00

I've been living with H and the babies at my parent's house now for almost a month. It hasn't been easy for us or my parents, as you can imagine, but all things considered we are making the most of a difficult situation. My Dad and I are more laid back about everything, so I think it's affected us less than my Mom and H, each who like things "just so" and tend to get a little on edge when they don't have complete control over their living situation. I know you're thinking, "But, Emmie, you're a self-admitted total control freak!" Well, I'm really not when I know that there's nothing I can do about something, and logic dictates that I need to accept my situation rather than fight it. I need to be taken care of right now, and much as it sucks and much as it means being gracious about things that would normally drive me nuts, I know when it's time for me to let little annoyances slide off my back. Even if it means having to eat carrot cake or something. I wish H could be as understanding. He lets every little thing my parents do get to him, then he vents to me, and quite frankly, I'm sick of hearing it. Yes, we'd rather be in our own home doing things our way, but that just isn't an option right now.

While I still want to fill you all in on the rest of my hospital adventures and a better breakdown of my medical condition, today I'd like to write a little more about the emotional aspects of all this.

When I was in the hospital, I found it hard to listen to people tell me all about the babies. I just couldn't focus for one thing, and I was in so much pain. I wanted to know the babies were okay, and that's about it. It hurt to hear from other people what my babies were like...I should have been the one telling people these things. H had a priest visit me the Sunday I arrived at the next hospital, and I was able to talk about all of my feelings to him. It helped a lot. I felt my illness was a punishment for me wanting to do everything myself for the babies without my parents' and in-laws' help. Here I had gone out of my way to ensure I wouldn't need their help, and suddenly I'm so sick that not only do I need them to take care of the babies, I need them to take care of me, too.

When I was released from the hospital, I was still in very bad shape. There was really nothing more the doctors could do for me in the hospital though, so it was decided that my recovery would be better at my parent's house. In order to leave I had to prove that I could climb a flight of stairs, get in and out of bed, and step in and out of a shower. I demonstrated each of these things just once before being discharged. When I left, I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to function at home yet. My mind continued to be preoccuppied by how I would accomplish the simplest of tasks. The whole way home I repeated my plan to H over and over: "You pull the car up as close as you can to the door. Tell my Mom to keep the babies upstairs. Help me inside to the bathroom. I'll go to the bathroom. Then get my pillows and help me sit in a chair. Once I'm sitting then bring down the babies." I kept repeating this over and over, terrified that I wouldn't be able to make it to the door, that I wouldn't be able to control my bowels during the hour-long car ride, that I wouldn't be able to climb the stairs to go to bed that night. These simple tasks literally took all of my energy. Being able to stand in front of the sink and brush my teeth and wash my face on my own was a huge accomplishment that night.

So of course, being in that shape, the most I could do with the babies at first was hold them while I sat. When I first held both of them in my arms after getting to my parent's house, it was wonderful. The three of us sat there for 2 hours. The next few days though, I couldn't help but feel extremely detatched from them as I watched H and my parents care for them "their way." I felt like a complete stranger to them. I wasn't their mother. And there was nothing I could do to insert myself into the situation. I just had no strength. H would offer me a baby to feed, and I'd have to decline. I worried that I didn't have any feelings for them. I didn't have any feelings at all. I was an empty shell...a deformed version of myself. I couldn't kiss them--I had a cold sore on the paralyzed side of my face and there was concern that I could pass on a viral infection.

As my mind slowly started to come back I couldn't help but feel bitter looking at pictures that were taken the day the babies were brought home from the hospital..Mother's Day...a day I was so sick I don't even remember it. In the pictures I saw my in-laws and H, laughing, smiling, holding my babies in my house without me while I was fighting for my life in the ICU. Oh, the bitterness. I even felt angry at H.

to be continued...

We Now Take a Commercial Break...

2007-06-12T09:40:00.000-07:00

For some much needed positive news!

My sister had her baby last Wednesday, almost exactly one month after the boys were born, and she is beautiful!!!! Everything went well and my sister is doing fine. I was well enough to visit her and the baby in the hospital last week, and last night she brought the baby to my parent's house so all three babies were together. What a zoo! We got some fun pictures and enjoyed the symphony of baby cries (for the most part :)

While I'm on positive thoughts, I want to note some of the wonderful things that have come out of my almost dying. (Yesterday I had 3 separate doctors tell me how they can't believe I survived, so it's kinda funny that I can now say I almost died and know that I'm not just being my usual melodramatic self.)

1. A big source of pain in my life is that I've never heard my mom tell me that she loves me. She had never said the words to me. I've always felt that she much preferred my sister to me. Well, my mom was an amazing caregiver to me in the hospital. She sat with me for hours while I slept, spoon-fed me food when I couldn't do more than open my mouth, and countless other things. She soothed me when I had panic attacks. Most importantly, she told me how much she loved me for the first time. Even though her actions already showed all that love and I knew that she loved me, it was really something to hear it.

2. A cousin of mine (my dad's sister's son) has not spoken to my parents or me and my sister in 7 years; it's a long story. Well, when his mom, my aunt, told him what happened, he called her every day for updates on me. Finally he wrote my dad, and apologized for all the years of silence, and asked that he and my dad could talk in order to put the past behind and be family again. My dad, who never had any issues with him in the first place and had hoped for years that he would come around, immediately embraced this chance to talk to him. This reunion has been wanted for so very, very long by us.

3. There are other relatives that have been somewhat estranged, and they have all reached out to put differences behind and move forward.

The next week in the hospital

2007-06-08T21:11:00.000-07:00

Before I continue, thank you all for your comments. I need to share this in order to start moving on. This experience has jarred me in ways I never could have imagined. Thank you, Jen, for the information about the support group. I will be visiting it soon. During my stay in the hospital, social workers would visit me in between all the other parades of doctors and visitors, and they would want to talk to me about postpartum depression and such. Well, at that time, sick as I was, I couldn't talk to them had I wanted to. I'm sure I do have some depression issues to deal with (who wouldn't??), but when I was in the hospital, I could only focus on one thing--reserving every bit of energy for healing my body.

I could only stare in disbelief at those social workers who would come in wanting to chat about my feelings while I was being given blood products because my body was shredding all my red blood cells, being fed nutrients through an IV, and had yet a third bag attached to my body to drain fluid from the C-section incision site. (Ironically in all this, the C-section incision healed beautifully within a week of the procedure, you can't see it, and I never even felt it.) I was hooked up to oxygen and covered in electrodes to monitor my vital signs. My thoughts were on getting through the next painful test and whether I would have the assistance I needed when my bowels would begin to demand immeditiate release. It took two nurses to get me in and out of bed to use the bathroom. I had to have all of my bags of fluid hooked onto the walker they helped me use, and all of the wires attached to my body stayed with me after being unplugged. It was a long process to get me up and back to bed. Getting my massive belly positioned back in bed was very painful, as the nurses surrounded me with pillows and foam props to try to minimize my pain and help me breathe. I couldn't lay on my back because the weight of my stomach crushed me. I had to be carefully positioned on one side or the other, and once I was propped that way, I couldn't move without assistance.

Over the course of the next week, the doctors tried every test to determine whether I had HELLP Syndrome , Fatty Liver, or something viral that was causing all of this. The problem was (and still is), that I showed many signs of both HELLP and Fatty Liver and nothing was clear cut. The cure for HELLP is delivery, and here I was, delivered but getting worse, not better. Or at least, not getting better at the rate that would be expected for HELLP. All the fluid that had been removed from my abdomen had built back up. My jaundice was not improving. My white and red blood cell counts were still bad. My arms and legs were so swollen they looked like tree trunks, and my fingers and toes were like sausages sticking out of my huge hands and feet.

After a few doctors who saw me thought I was just a "big" girl to begin with, not recognizing the severity of my swelling, my Mom stuck a picture of me and H pre-pregnancy on my bulletin board with the baby pictures she had brought. One of the nurses saw it and asked who the girl was with my husband. I thought she was joking. When I answered me, she looked down at me with the saddest eyes and said--"Oh, honey...you must be in there somewhere. Don't look in the mirror, okay?" I didn't. I was spared seeing what I was like at my worst. It must have been pretty awful because when I finally did see myself 2 weeks later, I was still horrified. And that was after everyone had told me how much better I looked.

There wasn't much more the hospital I was in could do for me, so it was recommended that I be transferred to a tertiary care hospital where more specialists would be available to examine me. When a bed finally became available there, ten days after I had delivered, I was transferred by an ambulance. This part truly felt like a movie. With the sides of my abdomen spilling out on either side of me, I was carefully moved from my hospital bed to a very narrow stretcher and loaded into an ambulance. It took 2 men and 2 women to move me. H rode with me but up front, because a nurse had to monitor my vitals the whole way. I was continually given morphine during the hour trip for the pain. I spent most of the time with my eyes closed, trying to block everything out, thinking only that I had to get better for the babies and H. Whenever I was in pain or going through a difficult test I did this--just sort of retreated into myself.

The days following the birth

2007-06-08T07:11:00.000-07:00

I remember very little about seeing my boys the next few days after their birth as I got sicker and sicker from my liver not functioning. They had to pull a few strings to allow the boys into intensive care. When they brought them to me, I asked for Baby A first, since I hadn't seen him. I took a few moments with him, then they handed me Baby B. H asked me who would be who, namewise. I felt Baby A was Zach and Baby B was Alex. H said he had come to the same conclusion on his own. Then I remember the lactation consultant coming in and helping me try to breastfeed. That's when I thought I was out of the woods and just getting better. Luckily, as I got sicker and they began putting me on medications that would affect my breastmilk, I denied the lactation consultant's attempts to have me still pump and get my milk to come in (they were planning to just throw it out until I was "better"). "Better" was not coming as soon as it would have in a "normal" case of HELLP syndrome or Fatty Liver (I showed symptoms of both issues), and had I needed to be pumped on a regular basis in addition to the constant battery of tests they started running on me plus the excruciating pain I was in from my fluid filled abdomen and body--well, I just can't imagine it.

I continued to turn a darker and darker shade of yellow as the jaundice intensified. The whites of my eyes turned yellow. Friday morning, the left side of my face became paralyzed. I went for an immediate MRI to rule out a stroke. No stroke, it was Bell's Palsy. I had no idea--I did not look in a mirror until a week later. Had no idea about how my face now drooped, that I was so yellow, that even my face was swelled up like a balloon. As I filled with fluid, I was trapped in my body. The pressure from my abdomen swelling up to my chest was horrible. I could barely breathe.

H says I saw the babies every day until they went home on Sunday, Mother's Day. I only remember seeing them on day two. I have no recollection of Mother's Day at all. None. My mom says that was one of my very worst days of all, when the fluid that built up in my abdomen was so much that I began throwing it up and they had to puncture my side to allow some of it to drain. Three and a half liters were taken out. Although the liquid was removed, new liquid continued to fill in as the liver still was not processing it. I had a bag similar to my urine bag coming out of my side to allow the liquid to continue to drain. But it didn't drain faster than it continued to fill.

I was given morphine for the pain. I didn't want it. The sickenly sweet smell filled my nose and stayed with me. I had the most twisted, horrifying nightmares, and I began hearing things and making no sense when I was on it. Even though I didn't want to take it, I had to use it when they moved me from stretcher to stretcher for the constant MRIs, CAT scans and other X-rays. Every bump and jostle my body felt was horrible. I was a water balloon about to pop. When my bowels began working again, I had to have nurses position bed pans under me because I couldn't get out of bed. In addition to my abdomen being filled with fluid, it was filled with trapped gas that was making the pressure worse and needed to come out. This was next to impossible to get out without me being able to stand up and move some. The nurses and physical therapy worked with me to get me up a few times. I was given more morphine after I'd get back into bed. The pain and exertion was just too much. My mind wouldn't quiet. The inside of my mouth felt like pins and needles. I couldn't drink enough, and needed to be brought more liquids all the time. The nurses would bring tall cups with straws that I couldn't suck from due to the paralysis. I spent my time struggling to drink, go to the bathroom, and sleep in between constant doctor visits, blood draws, and tests. When people visited me I freaked out if they got too close or were too loud. My head couldn't take it. I had panic attacks.

My parents would tell me about the babies and I had a hard time listening. H brought me cards and I wouldn't be able to look at them. My focus was on my next breathe.

(Quick update about the present...I still am on a long road to recovery. I cannot care for the babies right now, other than to do occassional feedings and diaper changes. My condition is extremely rare, so for those of you with questions about HELLP, know that I am by far a worst, worst case scenario. I have been told not to have any more pregnancies because my risk of this happening again is high. But for someone who has a "normal" case of HELLP, I think a second pregnancy means you just get monitored more closely.)

Part One Continues...What I Didn't Know

2007-06-05T16:31:00.000-07:00

My last post is my recollection of the day the twins were born and of what was happening to me. Here's what else happened that day. (Even today, I still had to ask H to tell me when things happened to me.)

When they started the C-section I was in complete renal failure. My liver stopped functioning. My bowels shut down. The day of the birth was the worst day for me as far as complications.

With my liver not functioning, I began to become very jaundiced, and every part of my body and abdomen began to swell with fluid that could not be processed. The swelling over the next few days became extreme. Fluid seeped from my arm at one point. I started the pregnancy 120 pounds. The day of delivery, I had been 172 pounds. Over the course of the next few days after delivery, I swelled to 198 pounds. I took on thirty pounds of fluid, likely more considering the immediate weight I lost with the removal of the twins.

The Dream Turned Nightmare, part one

2007-06-04T21:00:00.000-07:00

I want to try to get out what I remember as best as I can in a stream of consciousness. Apologizing now for all typos and poor writing.

May 8, Tuesday morning at 3:00 a.m., feeling pretty awful. Get up to go the bathroom. Heavy watery discharge then the release of a lot of mucuos. The mucuos plug? Water breaking? Not sure. Wake H. Call the doctor. Doc says to come to the hospital to be sure. Needed to be there that morning early anyway for 12:00 planned C-section. Debated calling and waking parents. Decided to call them and let them know we were headed out.

By 4:30 a.m. hooked up to monitors in labor and delivery triage room. Nurse determines water had not broken, but contractions starting and very painful. Doc on her way. Told the C-section would be moved up to 9:00 a.m. H calls my parents with update--there already on the way. Doc arrives. Now it's sometime around 6:00 a.m. Suddenly told the C-section is going to happen now. I'm in the OR. Get the spinal. Painless. I hold H's hand.

Baby A (Zachary) is born at 6:35, 5 pounds 11 ounces and 19 1/4 inches. He is in some distress and is whisked away to the NICU. I didn't see him.

Baby B (Alexander) is born at 6:37, 5-10 oz and 19 1/4 inches. He is cleaned up and brought to rest on my shoulder. He sucks my face as I greet him--Hi, Baby! Then he is put in the incubator by my side for a bit. H has gone to check on Baby A, who is fine but being monitored. H goes back and forth between us. We're asked if we know the names for each baby. Say we have names picked but I need to see Baby A first to figure out who should be who.

I ask for an ice chip but am denied. They don't want anything in my system...something appears to be wrong. Doc tells me I may need a hysterectomy (which did not happen). I think...What?? Inside panic but too weak to ask why or what's going on. Whatever you have to do I say.

Everything goes black.

I hear a woman calling my name sharply. I open my eyes and see a doctor hovering over me that I don't know. She says in the same urgent voice--Do you know where you are?? I give the name of the hospital. Do you know what happened to you? I just delivered twins through a C-section I say. She keeps repeating, "No, do you know what happened to you? Do you know where you are?" Meanwhile both of my hands are being slapped by nurses on either side of me and I feel attempts at needles being poked into the veins. We can't get any veins they're yelling. I think that's odd--my veins are usually so good. The jab me up and down the hands and arms until finally they get IVs in both. Everytime I start to close my eyes my name is called sharply and I'm asked the same questions. I see bags of blood being hooked up. The doctor yells that they're going to need more blood products; there's no time to wait. I'm told I'm in intensive care in critical condition.

I have no idea what has happened. I now know my blood wouldn't clot and I was bleeding to death. I'm told they call it DIC. They were close to losing me. If it hadn't been for the ICU doctor's fast action...

Once I am stabalized I'm brought to a room in the ICU. I don't remember much of anything else about the day. I know I wanted to see Baby A so badly. I ask how he is doing and am so relieved to hear he is out of the NICU and is absolutely perfect. Both babies are strong and healthy. H promises to hold off giving the names until I've gotten the chance to see both boys and decide. He spends the night with them in the maternity ward while I'm in the ICU.

I grieve not seeing my first son the day he was born, but I am so happy he is okay.

Where on Earth to Start?

2007-06-02T09:42:00.000-07:00

I'm lucky to be alive. I'm lucky that my boys, Zach and Alex, were absolutely perfect after delivery and are showing no ill effects from my condition. I'm lucky to be out of the hospital to recover at home, where I can finally be with my family.

It looks like my diagnosis is HELLP syndrome, something that only happens in .02 to .08 percent of pregnancies. And evidently, I am one of the worst cases the doctors have seen. The "cure" for Hellp is delivery, and once you've delivered it's supposed to resolve quickly. Well, I delivered almost a month ago. Who knows how long recovery will take. I know Jamie at Sticky Feet has been giving updates through all this, so I'm not sure what you all may know about my condition already and what happened to me.

When I just reread my last post before all this went down, I saw the line about my mom having sympathy for my condition and how this means I might be about to die. It makes me shudder. I had a really bad feeling Saturday through Monday that something wasn't right, but all the signs I exhibited were really things that could have been perfectly normal ones for how far I was with the twins. If I had called the doctor on Saturday, it likely wouldn't have made a difference in what happened or the severity of it.

Anyhow, there's plenty of time to get into the nightmare that was my 2 plus weeks in the hospital.

I want to say a big thank you for the gift Jamie, The Woman Who Cried Pregnant, Lisa, Hopeful Mother, Jonesing for a Baby and Motel Manager sent to me. When I saw who it was from I was truly stunned and I cried happy tears. Couldn't believe you tracked me down in that hospital. It's funny that Jamie comments about the boys needing to share the teddy bear...a few hours after the package arrived, I received an identical one from a family friend. The first thing H and I said was--how perfect is that?--now the boys will both have their own bear!!!

In the middle of the night...

2007-05-06T01:06:00.000-07:00

I get up every hour, on the hour, like clockwork. I finally gave up and decided to write a quick post and check out anything else new in Blogland.

My parents were near my house today for an afternoon party, so they called to see if they could stop by and bring dinner. This was a surprise...my parents never just stop by, even when I encourage them to. I said okay, as long as they understood I was not doing so well and would probably stay in bed. I figured H would definitely benefit from some decent food and company. It turned out to be a very nice visit, and the dinner they brought was amazing. Several of my favorite fresh veggies that they steamed when they arrived, a colorful salad, and ribs they picked up from a nearby restaurant. It was the best meal I ate all week.

My parents were shocked to see how my condition has deteriorated from just a few weeks ago at Easter. My knees and calves have swollen up to match my balloon feet and I can barely hobble around. My parents immediately saw the increased size of my already over-extended belly. My mom, who typically has no pity for any pain I describe or will match it with her own story of discomfort, was all sympathy (several times I've heard how she had to walk uphill in snow with swollen feet a week before she delivered me). I think this means I'm going to die, because my mom has never shown sympathy for any pain I've been in...she's just not the comforting type. That's always been my dad's role.

Yeah, so I'm pretty uncomfortable right now. Anxiously awaiting Tuesday. Praying the babes will be okay. Praying I will be okay. Surgery scares me, though I've been trying not to focus on it. If you don't hear from me the next two days, I'll be back soon, hopefully doing a lot better with two boys in my arms.

The final stretch...

2007-05-03T09:09:00.000-07:00

I'm still here, limping along. Friday was pure hell. I had an appointment with the peri, then my OB, then a non-stress test. All told, I spent 4 straight hours of people poking and prodding me my belly. Baby B moved so much during the non-stress test that they couldn't track his heart beat with the movements like they needed to. They finally gave up, figuring if he is that active he is fine.

So, it turns out I need a C-section after all. Both babies are transverse, one on top of the other. The OB was very glad she had already scheduled me for Tuesday. Evidently, having twins transverse at this late stage is part of the reason why I'm in so much pain. They are truly stretching me to the limit. Last week, when Baby A's head was down in my pelvis, had been the day I felt the best. I guess he just doesn't want to stay there anymore.

My neighbor who had her twins a few weeks ago had been strongly against a C-section, and she has since told me now how wonderful it was--nothing at all like she expected. (She even had a previous vaginal delivery to compare it to.) I know that she too was in immense pain before the C-section took place at 37 weeks. Right now, every hour is such a struggle for me. It's nothing like I expected. My sister, who is 3 weeks behind me with a singleton, is still living a normal life, shopping and eating out, visiting friends. I've been cooped up and experiencing increasing pain for over two months.

My friends without kids don't get how much pain I'm in. They call all the time, asking to get together, and seem surprised when they find out I'm in bed asleep or resting. I feel like they see me as being melodramatic about the whole thing when I explain that I really can't do anything right now. One friend keeps pushing for me and H to go to the movies with her this weekend, yet I can barely sit right now.

Another friend keeps asking how soon she can come see the babies next week--she's asked no less than 3 times if she can be here the first weekend we're home. When I suggested she come see us briefly in the hospital instead and wait a few weeks before coming to the house, she started in on asking H about coming over.

I'm glad that friends are so eager to spend time with us and welcome the babies, but between them and family, I know it's time H and I make a game plan for setting some boundaries. Especially after reading Jenny's post about all her initial visitors!

I'm Still Here...

2007-05-02T10:31:00.000-07:00

In answer to Motel Manager's comment, "Last night, I dreamed you had them today. Any truth to that?? :)" ...

Today I've only given birth to more hemorrhoids (whimper). The babies are still cooking!

I'm so happy to be at 36 weeks and 1 day. Would you believe I have outlasted my grandmother and my cousin, who both had "natural" twin pregnancies and are much larger women than me? My grandmother had her twins at 33 weeks, and as a result my mom and uncle spent a month in the hospital. My cousin had her twins at about 34 weeks, with the babies being born at about 3 pounds each. I can now thumb my nose at the reports that say IVF moms have their twins earlier than natural moms.

A Very Special Date

2007-04-30T14:43:00.000-07:00

My C-section is scheduled for May 8 if the babies don't arrive before then. I can't believe I will meet them one week from tomorrow!!!!

Open Sesame?

2007-04-28T04:03:00.000-07:00

I had a really good day yesterday. My body felt the best it had in two weeks. H was home by lunchtime with me so we could go to my OB appointment. I was excited to see what kind of progress I was making, because I had been feeling so lousy lately.

Last week, the OB I saw had said the outer portion of my cervix was just the teeniest bit open, while the inside remained tightly shut. She said she had expected me to be more open by this point. Last week, I felt this lock down was good news, but seeing as I'm now almost 36 weeks, I was now hoping to hear that the cervix might be starting to open a bit. I mean, I had a really bad week. Surely something must have been going on, even if there were no real contractions?

I also decided walking into this appointment that I was going to be a little more assertive about wanting to schedule a C-section rather than waiting to have one sprung on me at the last minute. Well, the OB I saw yesterday was the one I've seen the most, and she has been very pro-vaginal delivery with me since day one. So when I started to explain my reasons for why I'd at least like to have a section scheduled for my 37th week in case I haven't gone into labor by then, she had a counter-argument for every point I made.

That is, until she examined me. My cervix is still closed super tight. She said given my overstretched uterus and the fact that Baby B is breech again, putting me in the books for a C-section at 37 weeks probably is a good idea. The fact that I show no sign of opening up despite how far Baby A is crammed into my pelvis tells her that vaginal labor might just not work for me. The uterus itself may already be too stretched to contract properly. So, Monday I will find out when they have scheduled me. If I go into labor before then or if my cervix changes, we can always still try the vaginal delivery. I felt really good knowing that I'll at least have an end date in sight.

The OB said the babies are huge and I definitely won't be having premature babies at this point. So, I'm very grateful that the boys probably won't spend time in the NICU, so long as there are no other unforeseen complications. My cervix has done its job--it can stop being an over-achiever now. Knowing how big and strong the babies are, and how worn out my body is, I'd love for them to just come on out now. I'm ready to meet them face to face at last.

After feeling so physically good yesterday, I feel lousy again today. Oh well. I'm hoping they schedule me for sooner than later during my 37th week.

FYI

2007-04-27T03:29:00.000-07:00

Since I sense the end is near, I wanted to let everyone know that Jamie over at Sticky Feet will have the first news of the twin's arrival when it happens. So, when you see I haven't posted in a few days, you might find she has the (hopefully good) news. Thank you, Jamie!

I do intend to keep posting regularly after the boys are born; I just don't know how soon I'll be at my computer right afterwards. It always makes me sad when I follow someone's journey from diagnosis to pregnancy to birth and then they disappear forever, so I'm going to do my best to keep up as always. Besides, who else will I be able to tell my nightmare MIL stories and TMI reports to?

Speaking of TMI...does my colon know something I don't? My goodness--I have had so many bowel movements the past two days I could cry. Wait... I have cried. The hemorrhoids, which had been getting better, just can't handle this mass evacuation. I swear, I go immediately after I eat anything! I've been regular this whole pregnancy, and I'm not eating that much these days (no room), so I have no idea where all this sh** is coming from. Oh, my poor rear. I'd be posting a lot more if it weren't for the fact that sitting is so painful, and I need to use my time wisely to work. My boss still wants me to try to work for as long as possible next week, but I really feel like Monday should be my last day. We'll see what the doctor says today. Even though I'm working from home, not being able to sit is a real problem.

On to more pleasant things...I had a commentor ask about my nursery decor, so here's some pictures of it in the early stages.

We now have our glider/recliner in from La.Z.Boy and H has put in a cute white ceiling fan/light so that the baby death trap halogen lamp has been moved back to the living room where it belongs. We still have to hang things on the walls...that's been a big point of debate because both sets of our parents gave us personalized wall hangings with the babies' *possible* names despite the fact that we told them over and over not to give us anything personalized until the babies were here and officially named. Wwhile we are 99% sure these are the names we will use, we were both still upset they did this because we felt like they were jinxing us. I mean, what if something happens??? Besides, we kept telling them the names were tentative. Ugh. MIL keeps saying we have to use the one name we've proposed because it was her great-grandfather's name. Uh, so? We didn't know that when we picked it, so it's not like we were trying to name the baby after anybody. When I'm feeling cranky I just feel like changing their names entirely just to prove a point. Not very mature or motherly of me.

Anyhow, I'll try to post a picture of the nursery when it's complete this weekend.
Must go now--my allotted sitting time is up...

Pain, Pain, Pain...

2007-04-25T10:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I said my days alternate between pretty good and really bad. Well, today is really, really bad. I haven't had a back ache since the second trimester (not quite sure why it went away as I got bigger), but today it is back with a vengeance. Plus my belly is so heavy that the pressure on my pelvic area/rectum is almost unbearable. I know these could be signs of impending labor, but I've had no contractions or any other signs. In fact, the b-hicks contractions have really backed off the past two weeks. Maybe my poor uterus is just too stretched to contract much anymore. :(

On that note, I've been giving a lot of thought to requesting a C-section. My neighbor had her twins via C-section last week, and though she really did not want to have one originally, she said it was much, much better than her first singleton, vaginal delivery. H brought her and her husband dinner last night, and she was up and about and looking fine. H did note that she still looked like she was 6-months pregnant, but at least her pregnancy aches and pains were gone. Right now, I am in so much pain that the thought of having a quick C-section delivery without experiencing contractions or any other tearing down below sounds lovely. TMI WARNING--My hemorrhoids are so bad today that I can't imagine pushing out two babies so close to that super-sensitive area. Now, I have these hemorrhoids simply from the weight of my uterus pressing down on me, because I've had no constipation this entire pregnancy. Can you imagine what will happen once I start pushing? I feel like my intestines will come out with the babies. Sorry, not pleasant, I know.

Anyhow, speaking of my neighbor and her newborn twins, H came back from visiting them absolutely giddy and glowing. And one of the first things out of his mouth was--We're going to have to have more babies. I love H. I love that he loves kids, especially babies, so much. I hate that IF has made family building so hard for us, while my friends who are ambivalent about kids get knocked up so easily and then cry about it. I'm so grateful H and I are having these two babies, and I pray they will be delivered safe and sound. Even if it means the utter destruction of my arse and nether regions.

35 Weeks!

2007-04-24T04:31:00.000-07:00

If I could move, I'd do a happy dance!

I seem to alternate between having pretty good and really bad days lately. I can handle that. Today so far seems pretty good. The discomforts are always there, but some days they are just more intense than others.

I've had a bag sorta packed for the hospital ever since I started getting bad braxton-hicks contractions, but now I feel like I really need to prepare it. I find it funny that books I'm reading recommend bringing some make-up with you. My routine for the past few weeks has consisted of nothing but hemorrhoid creme, shea butter lotion, and colorless lip balm. And to think I never used to let people see me without a full face of makeup. Anyone who shows up to the hospital after my delivery is going to be in for a big surprise!

I've officialy hit the 50 lb weight gain mark. I still feel that it's mostly all in my belly. I'm a little scared to think about what my belly is going to look like after delivery, especially after watching that sextuplet special on TLC. I've never been a big believer in plastic surgery, but if my belly looks anywhere near as bad as hers did then I'd have to rethink my position. I know your belly won't go back to the way it was, and I can deal with having a small pooch forevermore, but I don't think I could face all those wrinkled folds of drooping flesh. Any twin moms out there want to share their belly experiences post delivery?

Overall I'm getting really excited about meeting these babies. I'm still scared, especially about the pains of delivery and my ability to care for two infants at once, but I figure I'll get through it if I've been able to handle being out of commission for two months now. I'm a very active person by nature, so I'm sure being able to move around again, especially to tend to these very-wanted babies, will feel amazing.

Why I Shouldn't Watch TLC

2007-04-21T07:32:00.000-07:00

Since I've been trapped at home for the past two months, I've been watching a lot more TV on the weekends with H than I normally would. Skimming through the online TV guide, I find myself drawn to TLC's line up of shows like it's a train wreck. First there are a million episodes of a Baby Story (I always seem to tune in just in time for the close-up of a C-section), then there's that show about the little people who have twin boys, Little People, Big World (my God, if a 4-foot little person can have twins I really need to suck up my pain!) and then the worst--Surviving Sextuplets and Twins.

Of course we had to watch. How does one have sextuplets and twins? Well, through fertility treatments, of course. The title is misleading--the twins, not the sextuplets, came first, through a round of IUI. They didn't say it out right, but it appears the sextuplets were also the result of an IUI. H thought this was pure craziness--what had the RE been thinking? Since they were successful with twins the first time, weren't they monitoring the number of her follicles more carefully so that excessive multiples wouldn't happen? I don't know; the show didn't seem to care about those details. H felt that this was the type of program that gave people without a clue about IF a bad impression about fertility treatments and the people who use them--the desperate designation. (Wouldn't you know that even the show synopsis calls the couple "desperate to have children.")

Well, watching this couple go through pregnancy with the sextuplets and then cope with 8 little babies in all opened a lot of discussion between me and H about our own IF experience. I have to say, seeing a woman pregnant with sextuplets after already having twins, her belly stretched beyond imagination, made me feel like a royal wimp over my own aches and pains. (She could actually smile when showing her 54-inch belly! And to think mine is only 43 inches.) Her enthusiasm was not enough to make me think I'd ever be able to go the multiple route again myself, though. If H and I ever try IVF again, I am pretty sure I will only transfer 1 embryo. I have absolutely no regrets about transferring two this first time, and I am so, so happy they both took, but I don't think my body could handle multiples a second time.

H, who said he'd never do fertility treatments at the beginning of our diagnosis, has gone from saying we should only transfer 1 embryo the first time (he was convinced by me and the doc to put back our two), to saying he'd be willing to put back 3 if we tried a second time and had three embryos of equal quality. Wha??????? Now, I'm very glad H has come around to being more accepting of IVF and the multiple "risks" involved, but there is no way I could put back three. Not only would it be bad for me, I'd be even more worried about the health of three if they all took. I'm touched H is willing to give IVF another try with me--he was so against it in the beginning that I think his change of heart shows how much experiencing a pregnancy has meant to him. I am so happy I've been able to give him that. Experiencing the pregnancy together has been wonderful. But I'm the one who probably wouldn't go through IVF again at this point.

My reason--none of our embryos were able to make it to blast before transfer, and we only had 2 that showed promise. Which meant we had to transfer both of those two or else we'd be sacrficing one of them (my clinic won't freeze anything less than a blast). Knowing that both took in this last case, I couldn't make that sacrifice if I were faced with the same situation in round two. So yes, we'd have to transfer two again. And of course both might not take--none might take at all. But I don't think I could put myself at risk for multiples again. At least, now is not the time to talk to me about it as I'm crippled by the pain of this current pregnancy.

It's not just about the pain, either. It's about all the risks to the twins themselves. The fears of prematurity and other complications. The things I didn't realize when I first saw those two beautiful sacs on the ultrasound screen. I wanted this. I wanted twins before IF was even an issue. Asking for more doesn't feel right.

Knowing that this will probably be our only go round with infants then, H is very eager to make the most of every moment with our baby boys when they arrive. He is way more into itty bitty babies than I am. I'm more of an "age 3 and up" kind of gal. As a result, H made the decision this weekend to apply for FMLA at work in order to be home an entire month with me after the boys are born. This is a little scary, as it means no income at all for us for awhile, but I am so lucky to have a partner who wants to be so involved in our babies' lives. I think it will be a wonderful month, even if all we eat is mac and cheese for a while. :)

A Little Better

2007-04-19T13:03:00.000-07:00

I had another check-up with my OB today and this time it was much less painful than last week. I think having back-to-back appointments with the peri and the OB is what did me in last time--there were a total of three people prodding my belly for extended periods of time trying to get measurements.

Today, Baby A had his head down and back in my pelvis where it belongs, and Baby B was transverse with his head tilted downwards as far as it could go. My OB said this was as close as I could get to having both babies in a heads-down position, so talk of a vaginal birth possibility is back on. So, that's exciting. I think.

When she checked my cervix, she said the outer part was the tiniest bit open (about the size of a fingertip), but the inner cervix was still closed tight. This is the first I've heard of this inner/outer business. She said this was still good and that she would actually expect me to be a little more open at this point anyway. So, everything is okay, I guess.

Since I didn't feel like I had been beat up afterwards, H and I went to a very nice restaurant for lunch afterwards--somewhere we probably won't be going for awhile once we have the babies. It was a nice treat as most of our post-doctor appointment meals these days have consisted of chain restaurants where babies abound.

Some very good news is that H's dad had his prostate surgery yesterday and it went very well. No cancer was detected in his lymph nodes and everything was confined to the prostate gland, which was removed. He was alert and talking on the phone a few hours after the surgery. I think he gets to come home tomorrow. I'm still baffled by them wanting to come visit this weekend...a 4-hour drive can't be good for him right now during the recovery period, which is 4-6 weeks. But it doesn't matter--they're not coming at H's request.

There are a few gripes I've been wanting to voice about MIL in this whole situation, but I've been trying to keep it to myself in the spirit of focusing on what matters--FIL's health and the health of our babies. I could tell MIL upset H earlier in the week when she called to talk about FIL's surgery, but he kept the details to himself so that it it wouldn't stress me out too. I know she was pressuring H to make the 4-hour drive up to be with her during FIL's surgery. I think she was put out when he explained that he can't leave me for that long right now, plus he has to work overtime as it is in order to be able to go with me to my doctor's appointments each week. I can't drive myself anymore, but he also likes to be there with me in the appointments to see the babies. H elaborated the other day that MIL threw back that FIL didn't attend a single appointment with her throughout any of her pregnancies. Well, she didn't go through IF did she, or have a high-risk pregnancy, or have weekly ultrasounds and checks for premature labor. It bugs me that she would criticize H for being an involved dad before the babies are even born.
It seems like she really only sees good in what H does when she benefits from it. She also keeps saying "Emmie is pregnant, not sick." Yes, that's true. But since my particular condition in this pregnancy is probably harder on my body than illness at the moment, I really do rely on H being around to take care of me. I mean, I can barely walk and I'm on modified bed rest! Okay, enough. I need to learn to make it work with MIL somehow.

Hope everyone is having a good day!

34 Weeks!

2007-04-13T18:52:00.000-07:00

Thank you all for the kind words and encouragement in response to my last post. This great community of support has meant so much to me.

I'm thrilled to be at 34 weeks today, and I'm also scared. According to my docs, these babies will most likely be here within the next 2-3 weeks. They won't let me go past 38 weeks (which would be May 15), and my OB thinks my body might only make it to 36 (which would be May 1). I'm still shooting for May 7. Let's see how well these boys listen to their mom.

I'm still in a lot of pain, but my fear that I won't know what to do once the babies actually arrive seems to take my mind off of it. H and I have never been around newborns. We've never changed a diaper, other than on the baby dolls provided to us in our infant care class. I know the whole world is going to change for us in a few weeks, and that after a short time everything will become second nature, but I'm terrified of those first two weeks at home.

So, let's go back to focusing on the pain. My trip to the OB and peri on Friday could be compared to the graphic torture scenes J.ack B.auer conducts on 24...at least that's how they felt to me. I once eagerly anticipated these appointments to see the babies and ensure that my cervix was shut (even if that part hurt a little). Friday's examinations truly felt like cruel and unusual punishment. First, being on my back for as long as it took to get ultrasound measurements almost made me pass out because I couldn't breathe. Then, the ultrasound tech kept pushing so hard into my belly that my skin felt like it was going to rip open or burst into flames. The babies were highly active during the appointments, which also made everything very painful as I was pummeled both inside and out. Even though the peri did a thorough ultrasound, my OB wanted to take her own look at the babies when I got to her office, so I got to go through the whole thing twice. She was a little more gentle, thank goodness, until it came time to shake hands with my cervix, which is still closed up tight.

The good news is that the babies are doing really well. They each weigh about 5 1/2 pounds (that's 11 pounds of baby in me!), which surprised the peri and the OB. Evidently they are in the 50th percentile for singleton babies and are very large for twins at 34 weeks. The most interesting part is that despite their large size, they still have room to be extremely active. In fact, I got to watch sadly during the first ultrasound as Baby A, who has been head down and ready to go this whole pregnancy, scooted himself out of position and joined his head up against Baby B's. It looked like they were whispering to each other, conspiring for me to have a C-section rather than a vaginal delivery. The peri and OB were very surprised that my uterus is large enough to allow them to move at all this late in the game. We're hopeful that Baby A will go back to his head down position, but now the word C-section is starting to be thrown around a lot more. It doesn't really matter, but they've been talking vaginal delivery for so long now based on Baby A that I'd been mentally preparing myself for that route.

I asked the peri if it was a problem that the babies still have so much room to move, and he said everything was perfectly fine with them. It's just unusual. Evidently my uterus is providing these guys with a 2-bedroom suite when they should be sharing a 1-bedroom efficiency. What can I say? I'm a good hostess.

I shared my latest symptoms with my OB--the itchy back, the underbelly pain, the hemorroids, the occasional cramps and nausea--and she said that I'm just showing the signs of a woman who would be considered past her due date with a singleton baby. She had a lot of pity in her eyes. As long as everything is okay, I can handle the pain a little longer.

I just wonder--when I have these babies, will my body feel better at all, or will the postpartum pains be just as bad or worse? Will I be able to get out of bed without my knees buckling from the weight? I understand that I will have some serious soreness in whatever area these babies decide to exit from, but will I at least be able to move again within a week or two? I feel like I'll be able to handle the sleep deprivation if I can just have most of my mobility back. Despite my fears, I can't wait to care for these babies. I want to make sure my beat-up body can handle it.

My State of Three Beings

2007-04-10T07:03:00.000-07:00

Today is 33 weeks--yippee! I keep coaching the babies and my uterus, asking for one more week after another. I have to admit though, now that I'm in a lot of pain it's hard to be as much of a motivational speaker.

The following is for my ongoing symptom documentation--not a ploy for gaining sympathy. Knowing that I'm nearing the end of this pregnancy makes me sad, because I know I might not ever experience it again.

I started feeling pretty bad last Thursday. I think up until then I had merely been inconvenienced by my lack of mobility and my excessive fatigue, but it was nothing that actually physically hurt me. I mean, if I couldn't stand or walk for more than a few moments, I'd sit or lay down. I'd enjoy feeling the babies move while I read a book or settled in for a nap. And I'd be fine. I didn't mind getting up a million times a night to stretch and pee, because I could still get up fairly easily and then fall back asleep. Now, however, I'm starting to feel the true discomforts of a twin pregnancy. Sitting, standing, and laying down all hurt now, quite a bit. I dream of being immersed in a pool, but it's still too cold and what would I wear?

When I sit, my gigantic belly presses hard into my thighs and sticks to them, cutting off circulation and causing an itchy little heat rash. I find I've started sitting with my legs spread a la Sh.aron Ston.e style more and more often, and my belly actually rests itself on the seat. When my MIL commented this weekend that she didn't think I was carrying low, I had to laugh. How much lower could I possibly go? All the nurses and doctors comment on how low I'm carrying every time I see them. Baby A's head is rammed into my pelvis. The upside to it is that I've never had heartburn. And from what I hear, that's a pretty big positive!

My belly skin burns like you would not believe. Now the skin on my back has been itching me like crazy all week. H has examined it and said there's no rash. My theory--I think it is now being stretched to accommodate my belly's need to continue to grow. My hips had started to itch the same way when the skin there started to stretch. Can't blame my body for being resourceful.

My knee and ankle joints ache whenever I stand up, and standing up takes quite a bit of effort. I no longer waddle; I shuffle across the room barely lifting my feet. When I lay down in bed, I feel like I am weighted down by the belly. Rolling over takes extreme effort and leaves me out of breathe. I can only stay on one side for an hour max, sometimes less. Getting the energy to get up to go to the bathroom takes about ten minutes of me panting before I can heave myself up out of bed. All the discomfort has made me a less than pleasant person to be around.

Okay, now I am depressing myself. I will make it 4 more weeks! The babies, the uterus, and I can do this! I feel the babies hicupping all the time now, and it is a lovely feeling. It balances out at least half of the pain.

Let's Play Hungry, Hungry Hippos

2007-04-09T07:47:00.000-07:00

The weekend is over, thank goodness. Yes, the visit from the in-laws was as painful and stressful for me as I imagined. I tried to suck it up for H, because at the end of the day, no matter how much he also complains about them, they are his parents and I know he needs them. I may have lost my ability to complain about them at all for awhile anyway, but I'll save that reason for the end.

MIL behaved as she always does, giving us millions of suggestions for how to live our lives while sitting on her butt as H did all the work of feeding and serving her and FIL. Boy, can those two eat. They eat in a weekend what it takes me and H a week to finish. They are not exceptionally big people either. They have your typical mom and dad bodies--a little soft around their middles but not obese or anything. Whenever they are at our house, they will eat what is on the table until it is gone, no matter how much we cook--and H and I always cook way more than we need. The in-laws just sit and eat and eat and eat, picking until every last bit is gone. (Which is why their request for Easter dinner leftovers was particularly funny to me--they never leave leftovers on our table.)

The best part is, they never have food in their own house. When we visit them, we're on our own. If we buy something to eat while we're there, they'll eat it themselves unless we literally hide it. When they cook a family meal, it's awkward because food will often run out before it's reached everyone. Maybe they eat so much at our house because they haven't eaten all week at their own?

Anyhow, we had asked MIL to bring a dessert and stuff to make a salad. H went ahead and bought a large amount of salad stuff that we would eat during the week anyway, just in case she didn't bring enough. Good thing. MIL's idea of bringing salad was a bag of baby spinach (which was big enough, I'll admit) and a bag of dried cranberries. No tomato, no mushrooms, no cucumber, or any other typical salad item. As she started to put the items she brought in the fridge, she asked H whether she should add tomatoes to the salad. Sure, H said, did you bring any? "No, I'll just use yours," was her response as located the ones we had in the fridge. H ended up adding a few other things of ours as well to make it a real salad. As for dessert, she did bring a container of mixed fruit and a dessert bread that she made herself--a first.

At dinner, they performed their usual feeding ritual, helping themselves to second, third, and fourth servings long after my parents and H and I had stopped eating. Only this time, I also loaded up my own plate so that H and I would have something for the next day. I figured they wouldn't take food off a pregnant lady's plate. As soon as he was done eating, FIL asked where we had hidden the Easter candy he knew we had. Then we had dessert. Again, MIL and FIL helped themselves to multiple servings of cake and bread, along with the fruit. Really, I don't see where they put it all!

We did manage to have leftover side dishes, which H made a point of claiming as ours for the next day. So, when MIL and FIL left on Sunday, they only took their remaining fruit with them. This, of course, was after H made TWO breakfasts for them, one small one before church and one large one after church. They finished two full-size cartons of orange juice and two pots of coffee (minus the one glass of each that H had at each sitting.)After the second carton of OJ was gone, MIL eyed H's still-full second glass and asked if she could have it. H told her that there was a third carton in the fridge is she wanted to go get it, but she declined. How are these people such bottomless pits?? One of those cartons would last us a week. At the in-law's house, they rarely have any OJ in the morning, and if they do have it, they yell at H for pouring himself a glass in a normal-sized cup rather than the itty bitty juice glasses they have. No kidding. Anyhow, at the second breakfast, H commented that he had made so much that there would be enough for me to have during the week. Hardly. That comment slowed them down so that there was a single serving left, but if he hadn't said something, that would have been gone too.

With all the eating came a lot of dirty dishes, and the in-laws were no help in that area either. H was on his feet in the kitchen all weekend long when they were here, constantly serving and cleaning up after them. MIL made several remarks that she would help put away dishes but she didn't know where anything went. Um, how hard is it to figure out where our dishes, glasses, and utensils go? We keep a very organized kitchen. It's not some secret lair. And if she can't empty a dishwasher for us, then what the heck kinda help does she intend to offer us when she says she'll stay with us to help with housecleaning once the babies are born?
As usual, the guest bathroom was disgusting after they left after only 24-hours usage (I'm talking gross smears on the toilet seat that weren't cleaned up) and they didn't bother to bring down their towels or sheets for washing. (They sleep in separate guest rooms when they are here so that we have twice the sheets to wash, saying our double beds are too small for the two of them to sleep together. Yet these are the beds of my grandparents and parents, who were always fine in double beds and are no smaller than them.) Now, when they are our guests, we never expect them to change the bed sheets anyway, but as people saying they were here to HELP US OUT, I'd sure like to know what part of the weekend constituted as help.

To top it all off, MIL tells H that she and FIL are planning to visit us again in 2 weeks. H said no. He said that with me being out of commission and the babies arriving soon, he really doesn't have the time to be getting extra food for their stay and cleaning up after them.

And then they tell H that FIL has early stage prostate cancer, and will be having surgery a week from tomorrow.

Hello, guilt trip.

Issues Down Below

2007-04-05T11:41:00.000-07:00

Thank you all for your comments. I answered the questions about my size/belly in the comment section of my last post--hope the info is helpful!

So, today I've just had that ain't doin' right feeling in the gastronintestinal area. This is some major TMI, so click away if you need to. Basically, I thought I was getting hemorroids a few weeks ago due to some bleeding, but it went away after 2 days. Today it was back with a vengeance, as I put on my very own version of Terrance and Phillip's Arses of Fire (I admit to loving S.outh Park, even though I once thought I was above the crude bits.) I actually blew blood out of my behind as a result of some excessive gassiness. My reaction was one mixed with horror and hysterical laughter. Luckily I was in the loo at the time so there was no mess to clean up. Could have been much worse as I am wearing white linen pants today! Overall, my bowel movements have become, shall we say, much looser, combined with a teeny bit of cramping, so I'm concerned that this is a sign of my body starting to consider preterm labour. My next appointment isn't until next Friday, and boy do I wish I had a cervix check between now and then.

Anyhow, on to a different type of crappy situation. (Gosh, I'm usually much more refined than this.) My in-laws. So here's what went down. It was everyone's understanding that when they came down for my shower a few weeks ago, that would be the last we saw of them until the boys were born. Well, two weeks ago MIL called H and proposed that they come down Easter weekend to cook us dinner on Saturday (why not the actual holiday on Sunday, I don't know.) H felt that the right thing to do would be to accept his mother's kind offer since we would not be able to attend my family's Easter festivities (too far away). It all seemed innocent. H suggested that we invite my parents as well since this would take place on Saturday, and we'd have a nice family Easter dinner afterall. I was a little uncertain about having guests at this point, but figured it couldn't hurt if they were going to do all the cooking.

Wwell, H's mom then asked that we supply the main course, such as a ham, duck, or lamb, and she would provide all the sides. Hmm. This deal was starting to look less appealing. If H and I had wanted to put on a big course, we would have suggested it. But we didn't. Still, H said okay, we'd figure out the main course of the meal and MIL would do the rest. Well, we couldn't have ham because of my excessive swelling and my parents aren't really duck/lamb kinda people. So the more we talked about it, the more frustrated we became. This was exactly what we didn't want--we had planned to spend Easter alone, not worrying about planning some family dinner. We considered ordering from Bosto.n Market for a moment, then got irritated that the in-laws could do that just as easily as we could-- so why didn't they? Then, MIL told H that it would be easier for him to provide the sides and they would just bring a dessert. What had started out as an offer to feed us turned into us cooking for them, like we always do.

As we talked about this over the next few days, H came down with a bad cold and was out of commission all weekend. Which meant nothing on our still large to-do list for the babies got done. H acknowledged that he simply did not have time to be planning a meal the following weekend when he'd have to catch up on his work. We questioned whther we really even had time for overnight guests, especially knowing that the in-laws would not pitch in while they were here and would only create a messy house for us to clean up after they left. I was starting to get very cranky about it. Still, H didn't feel we could tell them not to come since it was Easter.

Meanwhile, my parents had initially resisted our invitation because they did not want to impose two more people on us. Still, H was adamant that if his parents were coming, they should come too, and I agreed. There's a longer story here, but I'll save that for later. Basically, my parents were annoyed that the in-laws basically invited themselves, while they themselves had been planning to bring dinner to us or take us out. They were not going to treat the in-laws though. (They really don't like them based on oh-so-many things.

Finally, H and I decided that we would do a pot roast in our slow cooker, because it would be quick to prepare and would feed everyone without creating a big mess to clean up. When MIL heard this, she was quick to express her disappointment that we weren't having something "more substantial." She then told H that she was hoping he would make something that she and FIL could take home as leftovers the next day. W....T...F.....?!?!?!? If anything, wouldn't you want to leave your son and pregnant wife the leftovers when he is doing everything around the house while I'm pretty much out of commission? What is wrong with these people???

H made it clear to his mom that we were having a small, casual dinner, nothing more. He told them what time to come in the afternoon, and when MIL said that they might arrive early in the morning, he told them that would be fine because he would have plenty of work them to do around the house. (I'm betting they'll be late for dinner, now!)

Meanwhile, my mom had told us she was going to make a homemade cake (not carrot!) for the dinner, and when H told MIL as much, she questioned whether she needed to bring anything at all. Nice huh? Well, H put her in charge of salad and an extra dessert. We'll see if she brings it. MIL also questioned why my parents would be coming over and was surprised we weren't going to their house for dinner the next day. Um, hello--we explained that I could not travel 90 minutes by car anymore last month. H told her that were were probably not even going to church the next day because my mornings have been pretty rough. I'm hoping she's getting the point that we're not really up for their visit right now.

This whole thing is like the shower, when MIL said she wanted to host one at my house and then told my mom that there was nothing she could do to contribute when it became a joint shower. So, she got credit for being a co-host while my mom did all the work, with help from H and my dad. MIL didn't even show up to the shower until a half hour before it started, once everything was already set up. She had promised to get there 3 hours early and didn't. Now she's got an Easter dinner planned for her and FIL without her having to do anything but show up.

Ugh.

32 Weeks and Holding

2007-04-03T12:05:00.000-07:00

Hooray--it's April and I've made it to 32 weeks! I've had two doctor's appointments since my last post, and both times my cervix was nice and closed and everything looks good. Baby B has flipped to breech again, but the docs actually think a vaginal delivery is the way to go for me based on Baby A's good position. I've decided not to really think about it at this point. I've done my reading and research, and whatever happens, happens. Both escape routes are going to give new definition to my understanding of pain, so as long as the babies are okay it doesn't really matter to me.

This past week, I had another little growth spurt as my appetite was huge and my belly skin itched like never before. When things settled down, I found that my underbelly had grown a reinforcement structure of thick skin/muscle to support my extended belly, which is now truly horizontal to my legs and sticks out far enough to look cartoonish. Amazing what the body will do. I'm actually quite pleased with my little body for how strong it has been through this entire process. It reacted well to the IVF cycle, it avoided morning sickness despite some crazy high hormonal levels, and it has expanded to a size I never thought possible. Despite the not being able to get pregnant naturally issue, I'm quite pleased with how it has responded to all the curves it's been thrown this year. Let's hope it can keep this stamina up for a good delivery and recovery.

There are a few other things on my mind, like how my annoying in-laws have invited themselves down this weekend so we can cook Easter dinner for them, but I don't want to be negative right now. I'll see how the weekend goes and then complain...

There's also good news on the au pair front. After being torn between two au pairs, the first one I originally blogged about decided to accept our offer and we have made the necessary arrangements to have her arrive this summer. I'm a little nervous, but I think this will be the best childcare solution for us with two babies.

What We're All Waiting For

2007-03-28T07:35:00.000-07:00

There are a list of blogs saved on my favorites list that I don't get to read as often as the ones on my blogroll. I happened to click on one today and saw the most moving video ever. You may have already seen it. If you haven't, check it out, and keep the tissues nearby.

Congratulations on your little girl, Beth. You are going to be a fabulous mom.

Enough of March, Already

2007-03-26T07:57:00.000-07:00

Time is trickling by so slowly this month that I feel as if it might just stop all together. I am at 31 weeks tomorrow, and the next week cannot go fast enough to get me safely to 32. I so badly want these babies to stay inside until May, but I'll settle for April if I have to. Just so long as they are not born in March. My b-h contractions are still a constant reminder all day that anything could happen at any time now. I am being so careful to rest as much as possible, and I drink gallons of water a day. I'm trying to think positive thoughts as much as possible. My babies will make it to May...

H and I are getting a lot of important details taken care of in preparation for the boys' arrival. We have been interviewing au pairs and we have found one that we like very much. She has experience with boy infants and has two younger brothers she helped raise. Talking to her on the phone has been very natural despite the slight language barrier. H was an exchange student for 6 months not far from her town, so he can speak to her in her native language as well. She has a friend who is an au pair that is currently assigned to a home about 10 minutes from our house. What are the chances of that, given we live in a very rural, out of the way area? We've extended the invitation to her to live with us starting in July, and she has asked that we give her a few days to decide since other families are also talking to her. She said we were her favorite family though. I'm glad she is not rushing her decision, but I really hope she picks us!!!! If she accepts, it will be a huge relief to know we have childcare lined up for the twins once I have to go back to work. I get 16 weeks of maternity leave, which is much more generous that what most of my friends get, but I know it will go too fast. Unfortunately, staying home is not an option for us.

In other news, H's best friend wrote him the other day that he is having a vasectomy this week because he and his wife of 2 years have decided that they definitely do not want kids. They are 32. This is the friend who was adopted and always struggled with that fact. Now he says they will adopt if for some reason they change their mind about kids. I want to scream--don't do it!!!!!!! Just in case. Because 32 is so young. And adopting isn't as easy as you think. And because it devastates me to see someone throw their fertility away in such a permanent manner after H and I struggled so hard to get pregnant ourselves. But H's friend doesn't know we had to do IVF. Doesn't know our heartache. And we have no intention of telling him...it's just too painful and his reaction will likely hurt us (we have very, very different views about things). He and his wife want to come visit us before the babies are born. I really hope the topic of the vasectomy does not come up. He and his wife have always been open about saying they don't want kids, but this seems so drastic. Are other methods of birth control really that hard? It's not easy being surrounded by friends who are consistently getting pregnant by accident or who take their fertility for granted. Everyone we know has had a super easy time of getting pregnant, and that only emphasizes our struggle. But I guess everyone's situation is different, and if H's friend belives a vasectomy is the best thing for him, I should not judge. But it does make me sad.

My, What a Large Fundal Height You Have...

2007-03-23T22:48:00.000-07:00

I had an appointment with my OB today and saw the nice doctor who examined me when I was having my braxton-hicks freak-out a few weeks ago. She measured my uterus and told me that my fundal height is that of a term singleton pregnancy. I would have asked if that meant my uterus would be incapable of any more growth and that's why old utie has been exercising with the braxton-hicks contractions so much, but I was about to pass out from the pain of her pressing on my belly to get a good measurement. Even H, who had come along, commented afterwards that he was surprised at how she had been man-handling my poor, overstretched belly. Then she got out the dreaded plastic glove and gave me my now weekly cervix check...ee-ouch!(Note to self, if this hurts, what do you think labor will be like? Need to buck up, dear.) After poking around for what seemed like an eternity, she pronounced my cervix good and closed. She also commented at how low Baby A's head is in my pelvis, and I began having scary thoughts of the poor guy being born with a fingerprint on his forehead from all the poking each week.

She did a quick ultrasound and found that Baby B finally decided to flip around and join his brother in the proper "prepared for exit" position. H and I were quite excited that both of them are in the right position now. Of course, that excitement has turned into a little panic on my end. I have been open to either method of delivery- vaginal or c-section- from the beginning, only caring about doing what is safest for the babies, but in the back of my mind I've been preparing more for the c-section. I feel there are risks and benefits to both methods, but honestly, a c-section was looking a little more appealing to me. With a vaginal birth looming, I'm now worried about the fact that I have the group B strep thing, and I keep having terror flashes of cords being wrapped around the babies' necks as I try to push them out. (H almost strangled on his cord when he was born. He was completely blue.) I also worry that I'll push the first out only to have Baby B go into distress and then I'll need an emergency c-section. This happened to a twin mom my sister knows. At least with a planned c-section, you know they both will have a safe exit and the whole thing will be over in 45 minutes. Any advice out there?

The doc was still a little concerned at the frequency of my b-h contractions, but with a closed cervix there's really nothing to do about it. She just told me to keep a close watch and to come in if they increase in intensity in any way. So, does that mean when I got a cramp with one in the middle of the night tonight I should start to panic? Here I am, back to Dr. Google in the wee hours, just like in the early days of this pregnancy. I'm hoping the cramp was just my digestive system being fussy--there haven't been any others.

In other news, I have my first major stretch marks. There are about five large, angry-looking red streaks on each of my hips. (so that's where I've been hiding my store of all this extra skin, huh?) I'm also seeing the emergence of some light, shiny marks on my belly, which I figured had to happen sooner or later.

30 weeks and 5 days...hang in there, uterus!

30 Weeks and Counting

2007-03-21T04:42:00.000-07:00

I passed the 30 week mark yesterday, which is when I thought I'd feel fairly safe about delivering these babies alive and well if they were to come early. Well, I don't feel all that relieved just yet. I really, really want to make it to 37 weeks. "Make it to May 7" has been my mantra. I have not been very hormonal during this pregnancy (okay, aside from the whole shower/carrot cake thing), but I do get irritable whenever friends or family pronounce that I am going to have these babies in April. Don't they understand that having them in April would not be a good thing???

On Friday, the peri measured each baby at 3 1/2 pounds. He said making it to 32 weeks would put the babies past most dangers. So another two week wait...
I've been having some major braxton-hicks contractions in the evening, and I can't lay down for more than an hour without my hip shooting pains through my side. I feel very, very heavy, but my weight is still holding steady. I have a new symptom, hemorrhoids, no doubt caused by all the pressure and weight from my uterus weighing down on me. Constipation has not been an issue thankfully. I am carrying very low and feel as though my belly might just fall off whenever I stand up. Overall, though, my spirits are high and I feel okay all things considered.

I now fully appreciate why doctors warn their patients about the risks of a twin pregnancy--I was so naive. I had no idea about what a real toll it would take on my body, since I've been as big as a woman carrying a singleton who is ready to give birth for over a month now. Plus there are all the prematurity risks to the babies. I honestly didn't think prematurity was that big of a deal...I really didn't do my homework since many babies in my family were premature. I am thrilled to be having twins, though--don't get me wrong. And I would transfer two again if I had to go back and do it over. But I don't think I could do it a second time if we were to try for a third baby.

H asked me the other night if I'd be willing to do another round of IVF to have a third child. I was surprised he asked, because he was always very clear that one round of IVF had been enough for him. He also only wanted two kids. Now that he's seen how exciting a pregnancy is, he seems open to a lot more things to make it happen than he was before. I, on the otherhand, had been open to another round of IVF initially, and I've always been interested in having three children. I'm still open to a third child, but I'm not sure I could do IVF again. For as long and physically straining this pregnancy has been on my body, the stress of going through the IVF cycle was much worse. The physical part of the cycle wasn't bad, but the mental part was the stuff of nightmares. I don't think I could take another round of my heart stopping over phone calls letting me know how many eggs were fertilized and still dividing. Especially since I felt like I was the one who had to be strong through the whole thing. I held everything inside for everyone else's sake, and as a result I don't think I ever came to terms with it.

We were so very lucky and blessed that our first round of IVF worked, and worked so well. From 14 eggs to 6 fertilized eggs to only 2 embryos that were suitable for transfer, and they weren't even blasts. There are so many people who have much more to work with and they have not been so lucky. I thank God every day for what we have been given.

And having been so lucky I don't think I could do it again. I wouldn't feel right putting two embryos back a second time because I think stretching my body to its limit a second time would be too risky for both me and the potential babies, especially as an over 30 something. And I wouldn't feel right only putting back one embryo if there was a second of equal quality that wouldn't be frozen if it weren't transfered. Yet if we were only having a singleton right now, I think I would do another round of IVF. It just doesn't get any easier living with infertility, and I don't envy the decisions any of us have to make about handling it.

So, after these babies are born, we'll be ditching the birth control for good and just praying in the back of our minds that maybe another type of miracle could happen for us one day, whether it be through spontaneous pregnancy or adoption. And if a third child doesn't happen for us, having two to love will still be more than we ever dreamed of when we entered this nightmare. Please God, let them stay put for another seven weeks so they are as strong and healthy as possible.

Shower and Stuff

2007-03-16T06:39:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I've posted because I've just been so tired. I worried at first that I would be a little lonely and bored working from home, but work has been so busy that my days go by just as quickly, only without the stress of the commute. Having the ability to take my mandated rest periods during the day has been wonderful. I get more accomplished after getting rest, and I feel like I'm doing the best I can for the babies.

So...the shower. It really ended up going pretty well, considering all the drama leading up to it. There were so many people there that no one person could really talk to me that much for any length of time (which meant no deeply personal things could be discussed), and there were no awkward questions about my twins being natural or anything. Thank goodness for that. I was worried that H's parents would slip up again and talk about our infertility like they talk about the weather, but they were on their best behavior, at least from what I could see.

The shower brought on some new dimensions to my relationship with my mom, which was a pleasant surprise. She came down the day before the shower to start setting things up at my house, and she told me that she too was worried that H's family would bring up IF. She told me how upsetting she was finding it when she would tell people about her expected twin grandsons and they would come right out and ask about infertility treatments and IVF. She said she was shocked at how rude strangers can be. I think it started hitting home for her what H and I have been going through, and more than that, I think she took personal offense to people's callousness in asking these types of questions since she herself is a twin. The "are they natural" questions seemed to bring her particular pain, as she could have been the target of those questions herself had she been born a few decades later. No one should be described as "natural" or "not natural." My mom is a chatty person--she'll tell anybody in the supermarket line that her daughter is having twins. Her recent experiences have bothered her so much that she said she's stopped talking to people in situations like that.

My mom also got to see how different a twin pregnancy is from a singleton one. She went to my doctor's appointment with me Friday afternoon, and I think it was eye opening for her to see the difference between me and my sister, who is about 2 1/2 weeks behind me. The impact this pregnancy is having on my body compared to the impact my sister's pregnancy is having on her body is remarkable. My mom saw first hand how many extra precautions the docs are taking with me and just how hard it really is for me to move around these days. She got to see the babies on the sonogram--her first time seeing something like that. I think it was very eye opening for her to actually see them on the screen, in ying and yang style, moving all about. Since the appointment she has been much more protective of me and more understanding of my physical limitations.

The day of the shower itself was very nice--we had perfect weather--and H was a good enough sport to stick around and help me open the massive pile of presents, almost all in duplicate. Poeple were extremely generous, and for that we are extremely humbled and thankful. I had a hard time keeping my energy up for the whole thing (which is why H was helping me) but I really did have a nice time. The cake H ordered on behalf of his mom was lovely and chocolate...absolutely perfect. The food was all wonderful and all the pregnant ladies could eat it.

There were a few funny things that happened that I should share, but I'll have to save them for later.

Hope all is well with everyone. I have an appointment with the peri later today so will report back with any news. Hoping the babies are still right on track at 29 weeks!

Dr. B-Hicks Comes to Town

2007-03-08T16:10:00.000-08:00

Last week this time exactly I started getting painless but strong contractions. I got in bed, settled on my left side, drank a glass of water, and began timing. 15 minutes apart the first hour. 10 minutes apart the second hour. Finally I called my doctor. She felt that it was probably nothing, just good old Braxton-Hicks, but told me to wait another hour and call back if the contractions continued. They did continue, at 5 minutes apart. I could predict the buggers by the end. At that point I was advised to go to Labor and Delivery, where I was hooked up to all sorts of contraptions and pumped full of fluids. (For the record, I wasn't even dehydrated--I've been drinking water nonstop).

The babies were doing well and bopping all about during the 3-hour monitoring session, and eventually the contractions tapered off. My doc did the fnn(?) test to confirm I wasn't going into pre-term labor (I wasn't), checked to see that my cervix was good and closed (it was) and took some blood and urine samples. Then she sent me home, with orders to go on modified bed rest. H and I slowly allowed ourselves to breathe again.

The next day the urine test showed I had a bladder infection and I was put on antibiotics. The B-Hicks have continued, however. My doc says that this is just a new phase of the pregnancy that I'm entering. As long as they aren't painful and I am resting and getting plenty of fluids, I'm told I shouldn't worry. Right.

I'm at 28 weeks. This is too early for my taste to have these types of problems.

So, modified bed rest really isn't a bad gig. For every 4 hours I'm awake, I need to lie in bed for 2 and preferably sleep. I'm still able to work from home remotely in two 4 hour shifts, thank goodness. My work was amazingly understanding and supportive... such a relief. I'm glad to be able to still work too because otherwise I would go stir crazy being home all day. I'm not a big soap or talk show fan.

I did go into the office briefly on Monday to pick up a few things, and my co-workers surprised me with a lovely shower. Turns out they had been planning it all along for Tuesday. It was a great morale booster, but when I got home I was exhausted and could tell that I was indeed now a prisoner of my house for the duration.

Remember how my MIL didn't want to have my family shower the first weekend of March because she thought it was, in her words, "Waaaay too early"??? Well, look at me now. I'm the breathless, barely moving whale that the peri predicted, right on schedule. The good news is that my weight has stayed steady for the past two weeks. I've gained 37 pounds total and seem to be staying there.

My family shower is this weekend--a massive gathering of my relatives, H's relatives, and my closest girlfriends. Luckily it is at my house, and the carrot cake plot has been thwarted. Will I survive? Stay tuned...

The Double-Edged Sword

2007-02-26T12:17:00.000-08:00

There’s been a lot of discussion lately about twins and the thoughts you have about them when you find out you need infertility treatments. I’ve been surprised to see how many people always dreamed of having twins before they even knew they needed treatment that would increase their chances. I’ve always wanted twins, but I am alone in this sentiment in my family. Twins are so common in my family that most of my relatives are hoping they’ll dodge that particular bullet. (It’s funny when people ask me the “are they natural?” question, because I’ve never considered twins to be anything but.) My mom is not shy about saying how relieved she was about having just one baby at a time. My sister has said that her biggest fear would be having twin boys. For me, it was the coolest thing growing up with so many twins in my immediate family, and I wanted a set of my own. My mom says I’m the only one out of the three of us that could handle twins—which is pretty much the biggest compliment she’s ever given me.

Even with the history of twins on my mother’s side of the family (the side that is supposed to pass it down genetically), I always knew that I shouldn’t get my hopes up too high about having twins myself. Wanting twins was like wanting a pony. I could hope, dream, fantasize, even pray—but I knew the chances of me actually getting what I wanted were very, very slim.

So I drew the infertility card before drawing the twin card. But I got what I wanted, right? Well, I don’t know. Is the pain of infertility worth the dream come true of twins? If I were in “The Mat.rix” and could take the red pill, wake up with no infertility problems, and go on to have healthy singleton babies rather than continue on my current path, carrying my dream twins in my womb but also shouldering the weight of infertility, would I take it? Would you?????

There are many clichés that can go along with this. Stuff about not being able to know great joy without knowing great pain, and the idea that whatever doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. I am stronger. I am so much more appreciative of what I have. But ignorance is bliss, right?

Infertility is a huge wound that H and I are still nursing. It opens up every time we’re faced with an insensitive comment about fertility treatments, a friend who has gotten pregnant on the first try, and the occasional thoughtless Starbucks cup. Am I a survivor of infertility because the odds came out in my favor and my IVF cycle worked? I think I’ll only be a true survivor when I can say that I’d flush that red pill down the toilet and embrace the experience I’ve been through 100 percent, the good and the bad.

Which would mean no more lying about my twins being natural. But I’m just not there yet.

Should I Take My Coffee with Cream or Sugar?

2007-02-26T08:15:00.000-08:00

How many customers has Starbucks lost due to this infamous cup? Surely not enough to matter, but the corporation can count yet another regular patron lost. I told H about the cup on Saturday when he mentioned wanting to stop at the new Starbucks for some coffee on our way to a friend’s house. Starbucks is now dead to him. We went to the adjacent Dunkin Donuts instead while giving Starbucks the evil eye as we passed.

We both agreed that if the first sentence had been left out, it would have been a great quote. Why suggest that adoption is just for the infertile, and why call people seeking treatment desperate? It seems to me that going through the adoption process involves just as much work, stress, money, heartache and worry as IF treatments in order to bring a child into your life (unless you’re Angelina perhaps, who I do applaud for showing people that you don’t have to be infertile to adopt). Both ways create a family, and both require careful consideration and a deep love of children. One method should not be deemed desperate. And that, Starbucks, is the way I see it. If you haven’t already read it, A Little Pregnant’s send up of how the quote was created is brilliant.

26 Weeks

2007-02-23T06:01:00.000-08:00

Last week I had an appointment with the peri and my regular OB. Both babies are measuring at 2 pounds and all their measurements are exactly where they should be, according to the peri. Baby A has been firmly planted head down towards my cervix for the whole pregnancy—the peri said he still has room to flip around if he wants to, but that boy seems content to be camped out for the exit. Baby B, accepting he won’t be first out the door, is still taking advantage of being able to move all over the place. Every time we see him he’s rolling in a different direction. In fact, it’s sometimes hard to measure him because of all his gymnastics. I’m just hoping he’ll settle for head down when the time comes.

My placenta has finally moved out of the way of my cervix, so between that and Baby A’s head down position I’m wondering if I might actually be able to have these babies the old fashioned way instead of through a C-section. The docs are still in a wait and see mode. I wish I could know one way or another to mentally prepare myself, but that just isn’t going to happen. Both ways have their pros and cons, so I just want to do whatever is best for the babies.

My poor feet are really feeling the pain of my 37-pound weight gain. The new shoes I bought last month to accommodate their swelling no longer fit. When I walk, I feel like every step takes an amazing amount of effort. I’m out of breathe quickly, and boy have I been sweaty, even in the cold weather. Gross side effect—my underbelly really sweats a lot! I change all my clothes as soon as I get home each day. My blood pressure is still really good, though, so all the swelling is just one of those things. My fingers are starting to look like cocktail sausages.

The return of the extreme fatigue I had in the first trimester has meant that I’m passed out by 7:00 on the couch each night. The trade off is that my appetite has quieted down. I have a very small dinner around 5 or 6 and then nothing else for the evening. I’m still eating plenty of small snacks throughout the day, but it’s been awhile since I’ve had that super starving feeling.

Sleeping at night is a challenge. When I try to roll over to switch sides, I feel like I might suffocate in the few moments I’m on my back. I haven’t had to pee quite as much, but sometimes I get up and go anyway just to try and stretch a little. My hips throb at night. My back hasn’t been hurting as much, and I wonder if that’s because I finally started wearing a support belt.

Overall, I would say that I’m doing fine and I’m not too bothered by all of these symptoms. The babies move like crazy and that is making everything so worth it. I’ve spoken more to my sister this week, and our pregnancies continue to be like night and day. The funny thing is, every time she complains about something she doesn't like about being pregnant, her husband tells her she should think about how I feel. That must kinda suck for her. I don’t really think my symptoms are something to complain about, because if I didn't have them I'd panic that something was wrong. My comments are really just observations so I remember what it was like to be pregnant.

On that note, I should point out that pregnancy has made my hair super soft and glossy. It was always thick to begin with, but now it feels luxurious instead of frizzy. My nails, on the other hand, which were always strong and had super white tips, have been really bad. They’ve been growing downward into my skin in a really weird way and they’re not nearly as white. Time for some more calcium?

Finding the Right Words

2007-02-22T06:49:00.000-08:00

There are plenty of things that strangers will say to you that will drive you nuts when you are expecting or have twins. (Are they natural? Better you than me!)
There are just as many annoying things that people say when they learn you’re experiencing IF or that you’ve had treatment. (Did you consider adoption? Maybe you should give it more time and just relax.)

Because these responses are so prevalent, I have to wonder, are we such an unoriginal society that we must rely on these rote responses just to be able to say something? Do people not realize that their remarks could be seen as hurtful because they aren’t even thinking as the words come out of their mouths?

For example, have you ever responded with a rote response to someone before they’ve even had a chance to ask the anticipated question? I’ve been guilty of this when I’ve been particularly scatterbrained or distracted. The other day I responded “Fine, thanks, how are you?” to someone who normally greets me with “Hi, how are you?”, when this time the person had only said “Hello.” Oops. I felt pretty stupid. It just goes to show how thoughtless our interactions with people can be.

I’d like to think that after you’ve shared your joyous news about twins or opened your heart about your struggles with IF, the person you’re talking to could come up with more than just stock phrases and questions. But that just doesn’t seem to be the case. Even my mom, who was praying with every ounce of her being that I was going to tell her I was expecting twins after she found out we transferred 2 embryos, responded with
“Twins!?! Better you than me!” when I could finally share the results. Her response made me mad at the time…but as I think about it now, I guess she just went into autopilot speak.

Still, what happened to a heartfelt “Congratulations” or a “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” Why can’t those be the stock phrases we use to address twins or IF?

Maybe we need to break the trend by coming up with effective responses that encourage the person to rethink what they’ve said. And maybe the next person they encounter will be spared. Here are some I’ve been thinking about.

Q: Are (your children) natural?
A: Why yes, are yours?

Q: You should just relax and you’ll get pregnant.
A: Do you really think relaxing will regenerate my tubes (or increase my husband’s sperm count/quality, or heal my uterus)?

Q: Have you considered adoption?
A: Yes, I researched the whole process. Have you?

Comment: Better you than me!
Response: You’re right about that!

Please give me your best responses to the annoying, repeated comments you’ve received!

Whale Crossing

2007-02-18T01:23:00.000-08:00

Sometime over the summer or early fall, I read a hilarious post by one of our fellow IFers about how she conducted a social experiment on how people yield right of way when walking down the street. She said as a result of not yielding to other people like she normally does, she got knocked into quite a lot, I believe mostly by old women and mothers with kids with them. I can't find the post for the life of me (I thought it might have been Hope548's???. If anyone knows what I'm talking about, please let me know so I can link to it!)

Anyway, my experiences this week had me thinking about that post a lot. I've read from a lot of expecting women that one thing they really have liked about pregnancy is how courteous strangers have been to them. Boy, have I had the reverse experience lately!

It started Thursday as I waited in line to catch the bus home. I was first in line, standing with my feet carefully planted so as not to fall since the median strip was still covered in snow and ice. When the bus finally showed, it didn't pull up all the way, which meant a little walk from where we were all standing. Given the snow and ice, I was watching my step carefully as I headed towards the bus. The guy behind must not have thought I was moving fast enough, because he swept around me and cut right ahead, brushing into me as he did. Now, the people on my bus are all professionals and there is strict but unspoken bus etiquette. I was shocked that this guy would do that to anybody, let alone a small whale with poor footing. I know I'm moving slow these days, but not that slow! The bus driver gave him a really dirty look but didn't say anything.

Then, I'm on the elevator headed to my doctor's office. When the elevator doors open, I get rushed by two kids pushing to get on before I can get off. Now, their mother tried to hold them back and this is typical kid behavior, so it didn't bother me at all. What bothered me is that as I continued to try to get off the elevator, a herd of old women--probably in their late 60's--continued to push past me to get on before I could get off. They knocked right into me, and I was the only one to say excuse me! (and I still said it nicely, I might add)

Before this pregnancy, I was a fast walker and always on the go. I always yielded right of way to other people, no matter what. Now that I'm so big and every waddling step really does take quite a bit of effort, I'm getting really tired of people knocking into me, especially since my balance is so off. I can't easily change paths, and surely given my size people see me coming! I'm just surprised at how rude people have been. It's been like this on the city streets all week, as people have brushed past me in a hurry.

Then, last night, I met the rudest woman of all. H and I were going to dinner at a busy chain restaurant. I was in line to put in our name as he parked the car. When I had entered, there was plenty of seating in the waiting area, but somehow it all disappeared just as I finished putting in our name. I eyed one last seat, and as I made my slow way to it, a women in her late 30's or early 40's standing by the seat made eye contact with me and then sat down. Okay...thanks. I just stared at her for a moment. The woman next to her, probably in her 50's, saw what happened and immediately offered me her seat, which I graciously accepted, noting that I probably wouldn't have been able to stand for the 40 minute wait.

Then, the be-otch who had taken the last seat turns to me and says, "Wasn't that soooo nice of her? This must be your lucky day. Though you must not really be doing that bad if you can sit for 40 minutes."

WTF???? I didn't know what to say to that, and since it was loud I just muttered a "yeah" and looked away. Then H arrived, and he stood in an empty spot next to be-otch. Be-otch turns to me again and says, "Oh--is that your husband? Well, this really is your lucky day, because I'm willing to switch seats with you so he can stand right next to you." I was about to say, "that's quite alright!" (as in, don't do me any favors, be-otch!) but she immediately stood up to switch with me. So I moved, muttered a thank you, and tried to turn my attention to H.

Be-otch continued to talk to me, saying it was no problem. Because her husband was still shopping, she could afford to move over for me. Again, WTF????

Then be-otch's husband arrived, and it was funny to see how she immediatley grabbed an open seat for him next to her when another party left, even though there were lots of older people and people holding kids around. H would have never taken a seat, even if one had opened up, for that very reason. He is extremely courteous that way. Pre-pregnancy I would never sit either if there were other people standing, so I was annoyed that this be-otch was treating me like this when I had a good reason to get off my feet.

I had to wonder what was behind her attitude. Perhaps she was an infertile having a bad day and didn't need a hugely pregnant woman in her face? I can understand that. She doesn't know what I've been through to get to this point. Or maybe she's just a mean person. Still, I think there had to be a reason for it, and I hope things go better for her whatever it is.

Happy Valentine's Day!

2007-02-14T15:34:00.000-08:00

I hope everyone and their significant others are having a great day! One thing is for sure, the love between couples dealing with IF is pretty strong. H and I don't make a big deal about Valentine's Day, but it's still nice and we always enjoy each other's company. Usually H cooks a special meal for us, but today we went out for the first time in many, many years to a restaurant right down the street. It was quiet and nice.

The only sad thing today is that we didn't get to see the babies--our afternoon appointment with the doctor was cancelled due to the weather. I was looking forward to seeing how the babies were doing today. We'll reschedule for sometime next week.

Now that I'm at 25 weeks, I'm getting more and more anxious to make it to that 30 week mark when I'll feel like the babies will have a good chance of surviving if there are any preterm labor issues. I find that my fatigue is back hard core--when I get tired, I practically pass out. Luckily this only seems to happen at home. Just the same, other than going to work I've been unable to do just about anything else. Last weekend we wanted to do dinner and a movie, and I only made it through dinner before feeling that I had to return home and rest. I've had to increase my online shopping since I can only go to one store before I'm exhausted.

My feet and ankles are huge, and I have been getting more and more leg cramps in the middle of the night. I find I can't eat much after 5:00 pm now or else I feel a little sick. The babies have been moving around like crazy, so that's been fun.

Okay, this is a pretty boring post, but there's not much to say. Thanks for listening to my shower rants, those of you who made it through those rambling, moody posts. I feel much better now. I'm sure a lot of it was my hormones acting up. I haven't really been moody or weepy at all this whole pregnancy, so the fact that I was for about a week probably meant that it was a long time coming. I just want to feel like my parents care about my feelings, and sometimes I really don't think they do. Maybe I'm just a big baby, but it seems like nothing is ever about me with them. If my pregnancy can't be about me, what can be? These are my last few weeks of caring this much about my own feelings. Very soon all that will matter are the feelings of my two little boys. I know I will be able to make them feel very loved.

You Can't Have Your Cake and Eat It Too

2007-02-12T06:36:00.000-08:00

So here’s my final installment on how my mom has been upsetting me with all the shower stuff. After this, I’m letting it go and getting back to TMI with my weight and pregnancy symptoms.

I hate carrot cake. Really, really hate it. Now, what did carrot cake ever do to me? Nothing, really. It’s not the cake’s fault. At first, if a carrot cake was at a party and so was I, I went my way and let the cake go its way without any confrontation. I’m not a huge sweet eater, so if there is a cake I don’t like, it’s not the end of the world. I just don’t eat dessert at that party. Geesh, half the time I don’t eat dessert for the simple fact that I don’t want or need any.

So, when my parents suddenly fell in love with carrot cake and made it their mission in life to make me love it or at least eat it too, it got annoying fast. They’d have it at every holiday and family party. I’d always decline. But there’s no telling my mom no with food. No matter how many times you tell her you don’t want something, she will keep pushing it. I think she might have missed her calling as a dru.g dealer.

Here’s how the conversation would go every time:
Mom: Emmie, we have a wonderful carrot cake for dessert. Why don’t you try it?
Me: Oh--no thanks, Mom. I don’t really like carrot cake. Dinner was delicious and I’m full. Where did you get the recipe for that stuffing?
Mom: Really, Emmie, if you tried the cake, you would love it. It has the best cream cheese icing.
Me: Yeah, that’s the thing--I really don’t like cream cheese. But thanks anyway. So, Dad, when is your next business trip?
Mom: Emmie, just have a little piece.
Me: No. So are you off to Portland, Dad?
Dad: Carrot cake is my favorite. Mmmm.
Mom: The other carrot cakes you’ve tried couldn’t have been good as this one. If you’d just give it a chance.
Me: No, really, I don’t want any!
Mom: Well maybe you could just take a piece home with you.
Me: No, no, no…

For about two years, this would go on for an extensive amount of time at every.single.family.dinner. I never gave in to eating it. I mean, since I don’t eat many sweets to begin with, why waste calories on a cake I’ve tried and hated?

Finally, last year, I totally lost it. My mom was pushing the cake on me again while we were talking on the phone about an upcoming family dinner I was planning. I literally yelled—“I hate carrot cake! I will not eat carrot cake! I will not serve it at my party! Stop forcing it on me!” My dad was on the line at the same time and he and my mom were just silent. I immediately felt bad for yelling—I really yelled—so I followed it up with “I’m sorry, but we’ve had this same conversation over and over again for years now. Please respect the fact that I don’t like something.”

Pause.

Dad: Okay, we won’t bring it up again. It’s not that big of a deal, Emmie. We just really like it.

At the next family dinner they hosted, my parents still had their carrot cake. But they also had another type of cake there too. A peace offering cake, perhaps? After that, they were real careful about not offering the carrot cake to me more than once. I still felt really embarrassed by my outburst, but at the same time I was relieved they had stopped hounding me about it.

Now on to the shower. I’m not a picky eater, and there are very few things (like carrot cake) that I really don’t like. One of them is deli meat. Well, my mom doesn’t think a party is a party without a cold cuts deli tray, and she has been determined to have one at my shower, even though there will be six pregnant women in attendance and we are not supposed to eat cold cuts (at least not without heating it first, and whose going to do that at a party?). I’ve explained this to her multiple times, and she doesn’t believe me. She believes about soft cheese and high-mercury fish being bad, but since she loves cold cuts she can’t imagine that I couldn’t eat it. I’ve suggested several alternatives to her, such as the really great party platters other friends have had at their showers. So she asked me to pick up the menus for her so she could look. I picked them up and sent them to her (we’re going to have to order the trays from nearby my house since my parents live far enough away).

There are some great grilled chicken wraps and stuff like chicken and shrimp salad sandwiches that cost less than the deli meat trays, all of which would be great party food. Well, my mom looked at the menus and told me that she doesn’t think anything I’ve shown her would be better than the deli meat tray. (Um, except for the fact that I and others aren’t supposed to eat it!!! Never mind the fact that I don't like it.) She then tells me that “The men attending this shower would eat 10 of those chicken wraps, making it too expensive to order enough, and the deli tray is the only thing that would fill them up.”

First off, excuse me—what men attending the shower?????????????

You mean my dad and H, who would only be there to help set up? H plans to take my dad to out to lunch after the party starts, like he did for me when I hosted my sister’s wedding shower. H’s dad most likely is not coming, and if he did, he would go out with them too. So who are all these men????? Occasionally the older women in my family have their husbands drop them off and they stop in for a minute or two. You mean they’re all going to come in like tornadoes and eat all our chicken wraps and run?

I told her she was being ridiculous and she snapped back that the wraps were too expensive compared to the deli tray. I told her to take it up with H, who would be placing the order for her, and promptly got off the phone before she caused me to hyperventilate.

The phone rings almost immediately, before I even have a chance to tell H about my conversation with my mom. It’s MIL, wanting to talk to H about the shower. MIL’s role is to bring the shower cake. I hear H say to her, “A carrot cake? Emmie really hates carrot cake, mom. No, really, she hates it. Her mom told you that she loves it? Well, she doesn’t. Seriously. Trust me on this one.”

Any tears I had been holding back burst. I stared at H until he got off the phone.

H tells me, “My mom asked your mom what type of cake to get for the shower and your mom told her that carrot cake is your favorite cake and that it would be perfect for the shower.”

I couldn’t speak. I was seeing orange. (A much worse color than red in my carrot cake hating world.)

H told me not to worry—it was all taken care of. There would be no carrot cake. But I just couldn’t swallow the fact that my mom had told MIL that carrot cake was my favorite. After all the history between me and that cake. The blow up I had over it. The peace offering cake. Did my mom hate me or did she just not care enough to know anything about me?

I e-mailed my dad later that night saying: “H tells me that MIL was going to order a carrot cake for my shower because mom told her it’s my favorite. Surely she and you know how much I hate it and how I never eat it. I hate to make a big deal about it, but why would she do that?”

My phone rang a few minutes later. My dad says, “Emmie, your mom would never tell MIL that carrot cake was your favorite. Your MIL suggested the carrot cake, and since your MIL hasn’t offered to do anything else for the shower, your mom didn’t want to say anything negative about it.”

Me: Okay, so mom didn’t suggest it, but she didn’t think it was important enough to tell MIL how much I hate carrot cake??? What would MIL think when I didn’t eat any of it?”

Dad: There will be so many people at your shower, we figured you probably wouldn’t get a piece of the cake anyway.

Me: Huh???????????????????????? I’m pregnant, hormonal, eating for 3, and loving cake these days because of it, and yet you think I wouldn’t have a piece of my own shower cake????????

Dad: We didn’t think it was a big deal. Your sister was going to bring a small extra dessert.

Me: So you actually discussed this? Well, it IS a big deal! Thank goodness H stopped this in time.

Dad: There will be plenty of other things for you to eat at the shower, Emmie.

Me: (Incredulous laugh) Um, yeah, you mean the deli lunch meat platter I’m not even allowed to eat but that mom insists on ordering? Do you guys want me to be able to eat anything at this shower at all?

My dad started to take my side a little after this, probably sensing the building hysteria in my voice and realizing that my hormone levels were starting to transform me into a force he didn’t want to mess with. He said he didn’t see why my mom had a problem with the other party food options and that he would make sure I got my chicken wraps. (In the back of my mind I’m thinking, no--H will make sure I get something I can eat, because he’s the one who has to pick everything up that morning.)

So, that’s the story folks. I hope everyone keeps carrot cake far, far away from me for the rest of this pregnancy because I can’t be held responsible for what I will do to it.

Hooray!!!

2007-02-09T07:02:00.000-08:00

A heartfelt congratulations to Hopeful Mother, who has received a great beta number. I am so very happy for you!!!!

Gift Giving

2007-02-09T06:09:00.000-08:00

I feel pretty guilty for venting about a shower that people are throwing for me, so I’ve been debating whether or not to continue with what I had to say. Afterall, at least this has not turned into the joint shower that my sister told me my mom had originally intended for the two of us. That would have been even more horrible.

Well, my friend K really doesn’t want to get in the middle of things with my mom and MIL, so she has just backed off entirely. I’ve asked her to call them so that they could talk to her instead of me, but she’s actually afraid to. I can’t blame her.

So, more background info is that my mom really doesn’t ever listen to or respect what I like even when she is buying or doing something specifically for me, and that has caused a lot of frustration for me over the years. For the most part, I let it go, because I feel that a gift is a gift and you can’t tell people what they should give you.

Quick example—my parents have given me a lot of nice jewelry over the years that I rarely ever wear. Why? Because H has already given me very similar pieces. For Christmas last year H gave me a diamond solitaire necklace, and my parents still gave me a diamond solitaire necklace for my birthday three weeks later because they felt very strongly about giving me one for that particular milestone birthday, whether I already had one or not. I know, poor me—two diamond solitaire necklaces in one year. The funny part is, I’ve always wanted a specific type (and I’ve been vocal talking about it). Since H didn’t get me that type, you’d think they would. No, they got me the same thing as H. Knowingly. It’s just a waste. Sure, I could take it back or exchange it, but guilt won’t let me.

Which brings me to the other reason other than the shower that my mom upset me so much this week. I wanted to get her something very nice for her upcoming birthday—it’s a big one. Since her birthday is around when the twins are due, I wanted to take care of this gift early. Wanting to make sure she liked what I got, I went shopping with her before Christmas to see what styles of this particular item (a designer handbag) she preferred. She picked a style and I made note. Well, when I decided to go get it this week, none of the department stores had it any longer. I was told it was being discontinued. So I went online to the designer’s site directly and found it…with one minor difference. Instead of a dark handle, it had a light handle, but the main color and everything else about it was identical. So I ordered it.

For some reason, I had a nagging feeling that I should show it to her when it came in because the return policy was only for 30 days and I’d have to ship it back. So, when I found out she and my dad had to run an errand not too far from my house, I told her what I had done and asked her if they could stop by to make sure she liked it. She flat out refused. She said she would never use a bag with a light handle, period. Since this style was being discontinued and it was so much like the one she had picked in every other way, I suggested she at least take five minutes to see it. Nope. She didn’t want to. She said there was no way she’d ever use it. I was really hurt. First off, because she was so mean about it. And second off, because she never comes to my house and she would have been right near by. I got off the phone and just bawled. Maybe I was being overly sensitive, but seriously—did she have to bite my head off over a gift I was trying to give her? The funniest part is that she never acknowledges what I like when she gets me gifts! I was ready to take that diamond necklace back that day and exchange it for the one I’ve always liked, but I couldn’t find the paperwork.

More to come...

Stuck in the Middle

2007-02-08T06:40:00.001-08:00

I’ve been wondering why I’ve been so depressed lately when the obvious answer finally hit me. My mother has been so rude and careless with my feelings this past week that I have cried after every single phone conversation I’ve had with her. It needs to stop. In order to bring you up to speed, I need to go back a bit. Therefore, this will probably span several posts. I’d been trying really hard not to vent about my and H’s family lately, thinking it was unhealthy, but now I think it’s better to just start letting it out. So, here we go.

It all began with baby shower planning two weeks ago. A friend who has wanted to throw me a shower since the day she learned of my pregnancy asked for a list of those I wanted invited a few weeks ago so that she could prepare for an early March shower. Since she has a small place and lives far from me, she suggested that she hold the shower at my house, an ideal situation for me since my mobility is decreasing. At the same time, my MIL asked H if there were any plans for a shower for me, and H told her about this girl’s plan. Although the friend, K, was thinking of having a friends shower assuming one of my relatives would host a family shower, H suggested that his mom get in touch with her and they could jointly do something. This was because MIL only has a few people she would invite, and having a shower out of state where she lives wouldn’t work at this point as I’d be too uncomfortable to make the trip in my third trimester. Well, K was fine collaborating with MIL, but MIL wouldn’t even call her to talk and just asked H that all planning responsibilities and a list of invitees should be transferred to her. Of course, at the same time as she started to try and take this over, she told H that he would be responsible for actually doing everything for the shower since she wouldn’t be able to from out of state. Makes a lot of sense, huh?

So MIL then calls me directly and asks for invitee addresses. She asks whether my family will be planning their own shower or whether I want my mom and her relatives invited to this one. Well, I say I have no idea (after all, isn’t it awkward to ask people whether they intend to throw parties for you?). I suggest that she call my mom directly, which she says she doesn’t want to do and that I should just give her a list of addresses by tomorrow because she really wants to send the invitations as soon as possible. Great. She says it would be good if we had one big shower because then there would be enough for a minimum order of special twin-themed invitations. (We had 15 people on the invite list so far and she said that minimum orders were 30.)

So I call my mom and tell her of MIL’s plans and the date that has been picked, asking her if she is free that day and whether she’d like to give MIL the names of anyone else to be invited or if our side of the family was already being covered. I felt uncomfortable having this conversation, but felt I had no choice.

My mom’s response—(in her nastiest voice), “Honestly, Emmie, I haven’t given the slightest thought about a shower for you. I don’t even have the time to think about that right now. (ironic side note—she’s retired) Isn’t March awful early for a shower?”

I gulp and say “Okay, no problem. No, March isn’t too early for a twin shower, given my premature labor risks... Anyway, I just wanted you to know the date and keep you informed in case you wanted to invite anybody from our side of the family.”

No, she replies. No I don’t think so. She asks where the shower will be held. When I tell her my house, I get the most disapproving grunt you’ve ever heard. (In everything I’ve read, having a shower at the mom-to-be’s house is more and more common, especially when mom is carrying twin whales and can’t be in the car long.)

I quickly get off the phone, very hurt.

My dad calls me not 10 minutes later. He tries to smooth over my mom’s nastiness, explaining that my mom has been talking about planning a surprise shower all week, for March, and just hadn’t gotten around to informing my MIL yet. He also said that he realized it would be better to have it near me or at my house than far away. He said my mom didn’t want to ruin the surprise and that’s why she responded the way she did to me, but I countered that she didn’t have to be so mean about it. He and I had a rational conversation about the shower, in which we decided that there should only be one, at my house, with everyone hosted by my mom, MIL, and K. (I really wanted K to be able to host alone as it would be more appropriate and would get an objective third party involved but MIL and my mom would not hear of that.)

So I sent an e-mail to my mom, MIL, and K thanking them all for wanting to do something so nice for me and the babies and explaining the details K had planned so far—the date, location, etc. I attached a list of all addresses I had. I said I was sorry to ruin any surprises but that given my condition they were really helping me out by giving me advanced notice and letting me stay in my own home. Since everyone lives more than an hour from me, I didn’t think I would be comfortable for a long car ride in March. With that, I said H would be at their disposal to help set things up and pick up whatever they needed, and I would stay uninvolved.

Yeah, right.

A few days later my mom calls my MIL and fills her in on the fact that she had, indeed, been planning a shower but that she’d be willing to combine it. She told my MIL that she had 15 people on her list, making 30 people total. My MIL immediately complains that this is more people than she had counted on hosting a party for and now things like invitations would be awfully expensive. (Huh??? This totally contradicted what she told me.) How do I know this? Because my mom calls me griping about every conversation with MIL even though I’ve asked to stay out of it. So now I’m caught in between MIL and mom, and neither will allow K, who is the only person who genuinely wanted to throw me a shower in the first place, to help out. My mom constantly tells me how expensive everything she has bought for the party is (plates, favors, invites) and she questions how MIL is going to pitch in at all. When I point out that she’s not even giving MIL a chance to do anything, she tells me that the only thing MIL has offered to do is bring a cake. More griping ensues.

Thus concludes part one of why I’m stressed and depressed…To be continued.

Getting Overwhelmed

2007-02-07T12:14:00.000-08:00

I’ve still been depressed the past few days. Maybe it’s the hormones kicking into high gear combined with the frigid weather we’re having. The fact that I’m outgrowing all my clothes much faster than I would like doesn’t help. I don’t want to spend more money on outfits, but I see little choice. Since everybody in the freakin’ fertile world that I know is pregnant at the same time as me, I can’t benefit from any borrowed clothing.

I’m getting a little apprehensive about the cost of my maternity leave (I’ll be off unpaid for 4 months) and all the things we need to pay off/buy before the babies arrive. I was hoping for a super huge tax refund thanks to all my IVF bills this year, but no such luck. We spent a lot on medical care/meds, but not enough to qualify to get any of it back. We’ll still probably get a little refund, but it will probably get spent before the check even clears.

H and I have made an appointment to meet with an au pair coordinator. We’ve been thinking a lot about our day care options, and we think an au pair will be the best solution for twins. I like the fact that it means the twins won’t have to leave the house every day when they are so tiny, and the cost is more reasonable when compared to day care for two infants under 2. I’ll pay whatever it takes for good care, but even finding some place that would have two spots open for infants is very unlikely.

I’m a little nervous about having a stranger come live with us for a year, but H and I have a lot of international friends and we enjoy other cultures, so having an au pair seems like a good fit. I also like that it will give us a chance to really work together with one person who will be caring for the babies, unlike at a day care where turn over could be high and the babies wouldn’t get as much one-on-one attention. I just wonder what having another adult living in the house will do to my relationship with H. We really value our privacy and private time, and I wonder if it will be just too overwhelming having a person in our home full time as we adjust to the babies. Maybe we won’t have time to care—after all, what kind of private time will be left anyway while we scramble to feed and care for the twins? I just worry that we won’t feel comfortable talking as intimately about things with a stranger around. At the same time, knowing we have an extra set of hands around will be a comfort. Any thoughts on au pairs???

You May Be a Whale If...

2007-02-06T04:23:00.000-08:00

Thank you for all your kind comments and appropriate shock at my photos. I really am happy to be this big, but just kinda shocked.

Anyhow, I had another checkup with my OB practice yesterday and met another doctor. (There are 5 doctors in the practice and they rotate so that you get to know everyone.) She said everything was looking great, and she kinda paused when she got to my weight. I asked if I was gaining too much, and she paused again and said, "Well, it's hard to tell with twins because you're supposed to gain more, but if you're eating sweets in between meals I'd cut them out."

I think that means she has confirmed my whale diagnosis.

The thing is, I'm not eating sweets. Not many anyway. I have some chocolate from Christmas (which is month and a half old, thank you) and I occassionally have a piece after dinner. If I were eating too much, that chocolate would have been gone before the New Year. So, I didn't feel the need to get defensive with the doctor and tell her about how I really only eat healthy snacks or that every other doctor I've seen has said my weight gain is right on track for twins. But I was still a little surprised and let down, especially since I really haven't gained much since my last appointment.

I left feeling kinda depressed, like I got a bad grade after having straight As throughout this whole pregnancy. So I went home and did what any hormonal pregnant woman would do-- ate a few more of my chocolates.

The baby whales were looking good and have been kicking like crazy. I got two cute pictures of them. Baby A is head down and looking good for a vagonal birth, and Baby B is in a different position every time I see him, so it's hard to say. My placenta is still covering my cervix just a tad, so we also have to see how that will resolve. Most everyone thinks it will grow out of the way in time for delivery.

None of the doctors have really talked to me much about whether I'll have a c-section or vaginal birth, and I kinda wish the answer would be more clean cut than this wait and see approach. But I know I have to be flexible here, and ultimately I will do whatever is best for the babies. I think both methods have their pros and cons, and I'm trying not to get my mind set on either way since anything can happen at this point.

I'm starting to get nervous about the actual birth. I've gotten used to having my little whales inside. H talks about how much he can't wait to meet them, and I think--they're fine and safe right were they are so no rush for me.

Check Out My Whale Impersonation*

2007-02-02T13:52:00.000-08:00

Warning: Very graphic belly pictures included.(Update--pictures removed temporarily)

When I saw Motel Manager's pictures of her super cute 24-week belly, I had to laugh somewhat insanely as I looked down at my own 23-week belly. Yes, I know I have twins in there, but twin what--whales?? It certainly feels like that sometimes when they are thrashing around in my uterus. I imagine them doing all sorts of water tricks in there.

Anyhow, since this is a first-time pregnancy for me, I thought it would mean a delay in my, er, blossoming. Not the case, it seems.

I am amazed at my body's ability to make this transformation. After the disappointment/despair of not being able to conceive on my own, it's nice to see my body taking it's job so seriously. I just hope it isn't working too hard too fast. I can only imagine it is growing in response to the babys' needs, and they must be doing a good job growing in there.

Double Your Baby, Double Your Chin

2007-01-31T07:04:00.000-08:00

My chin is multiplying. I’ve always had a somewhat full face, and this past week it has started filling out even more. Double chins are my all-time least favorite body characteristic to have. Bring on the cankles, puffy sausage fingers, and swollen feet—just spare my chin! Alas, no such luck. I’ve also had a horrible time sleeping this week, as my sides and ribs really ache at night. My most comfortable position is propped up on my back at a 45 degree angle with 5 pillows. I hope this is okay and my uterus is not crushing any vital organs. Wouldn’t I be able to tell? My belly skin is so stretched it has gone numb in most places and is very shiny. The places that aren’t numb are hot and itchy.

Overall, though, I’m doing well at 23 weeks. When I think about the pregnancy symptoms I haven’t had—nausea, constipation, hemorrhoids—I count myself very lucky. I do get bad indigestion, and I can no longer eat large meals, especially for dinner, as there just isn’t any room. I pee all the time and can feel well-aimed kicks to my bladder. (Perhaps I have some little soccer players in there?) H took some belly pictures for the first time this weekend, so I’m working up the courage to post them. Seriously, you need to see how big I am. I’ve got a watermelon hidden under my shirt and a kiwi under my chin. For the first time, my boobs seem small in comparison to my stomach.

Moving around has become much, much more difficult this week. I feel so heavy and slow. I now see why my doctor encouraged me to get out while I still could. I’m often out of breathe just going from the bus stop to my office. I’ve started driving a lot more to work because of it. H and I have completed a lot of shopping—we have the cribs, car seats, stroller, dresser/changing table, and bedding—plus we registered this weekend. It was fun buying stuff, as I’m trying not to stress so much about something going wrong.

That’s not to say I don’t worry. And people still feel the need to share plenty of twin pregnancy gone wrong stories with me, which I'm really starting to resent. I mean, really, people. If you can't say something nice...
When people announce their wedding engagement, do you automatically tell them about the couples you know who are divorcing?

Prematurity is my biggest concern lately, as I can’t imagine how big I will be in April, let alone May when the babies are due. How much further can I stretch? My tight, flat stomach was always a source of pride to me. Now I’m wishing I had started this pregnancy with at least a little gut or flabbiness so that my body would have more material to work with. The movie Alien was on the other day, and I now think a multiple pregnancy must have been the inspiration for the Alien’s big debut into the world. With every strong kick I get to my belly button (a rather soft spot on an otherwise hard containment unit), I imagine a baby foot suddenly breaking through. Okay, no more sci-fi channel for me at night.

Getting Older

2007-01-25T06:15:00.000-08:00

Work has been really busy lately, so by the time I get home each day I haven’t had much time to post. Thank you all for still reading!

I turned 31 over the weekend, and it was bittersweet. I’m so grateful to be pregnant for this birthday, but I couldn’t stop myself from noting that I had failed to accomplish a goal in my life for the first time. I’ve always been determined to have at least one child by thirty. Turning 31 with no children showed how powerless I really am in planning my life, and I am such a planner. Up until now, I’ve been able to check off every goal I’ve mapped out for myself looking ahead in 5-year increments. So, I really didn’t feel like doing anything to celebrate a day that reveals my inability to achieve something that has come so easy for my friends, family, and most people around me. I know it’s important for me to learn that not everything is going to go according to plan. I guess I’d just gotten used to my Type A personality being able to get me the results I’m always after. I recently heard someone say, “Twins are nature’s way of teaching organized people to be flexible.” I guess IF is a part one of that lesson.

So, despite a few minor down periods, I did enjoy the few birthday festivities that took place. We had an awesome dinner at the restaurant that my “fairy godmother” recommended. The funny thing about dinner was that the restaurant owners had a sick baby with them near the reception area, and he was very loud. This seemed very unusual for the type of quiet, intimate place that it was, especially since we were treating this dinner as our last fancy outing without kids. Hearing the baby cry was a reminder that we may not have our babies in our arms yet, but they are indeed here and our lives have changed, even if it is happening a little later than we had originally planned.
(I’m just glad we are pregnant, because otherwise, hearing a baby out of place like that on my 31st birthday would have driven me a little closer to the mental hospital.) I’ve been feeling pretty sad about IF this week, and I wonder if I’ll ever really let those feelings go.

In other news, my sister has learned that her baby is a girl! She doesn’t even look pregnant at all yet, while I have the “hiding a basketball under my shirt” look going. At least if this is to be my only pregnancy, I’m definitely getting some major mileage out of looking and feeling pregnant. I’m so big already, I can’t imagine what the next 3 to 4 months are going to be like as I continue to grow! The babies are moving around like crazy, and that is what I am enjoying most about this pregnancy. I am very, very thankful to be able to experience this. I used to see pregnancy as an inconvenient thing you had to live through to get to your end result. I had no idea that feeling them move would be as great as it is. I am really enjoying each and every day.

A Visit from My Fairy Godmother

2007-01-16T07:37:00.000-08:00

I heard a fairytale while sitting at my hairdresser’s salon over the weekend. Another woman came in early while my hair was being finished, and my hairdresser immediately told me that this woman was a grandmother to twins (we had been discussing my twins). The woman, G, managed to tell me within 5 minutes that her grandkids were IVF twins, though she did not ask me about the origin of mine. (Kudos to her daughter--she must have taught G well that infertiles hate that question.)

Well, G elaborated just a tiny bit to say that both her daughter and son-in-law had a combination of problems leading them to turn to IVF after many, many years of trying. They had healthy twin girls. After their birth, G’s daughter was asked by her OB about whether she wanted to go on birth control pills. The daughter laughed, asking-- what is the point???? A year later, G’s daughter started feeling very tired. Very, very tired. Sure, she had twins and a full-time job, but this was a different kind of tired. So she took a home pregnancy test one night. And it was positive. She went on to deliver a healthy boy, and they lived happily ever after.

Secondary fertility. It is the bedtime story that H and I tell each other. I think about it with a longing in the same way little girls think about being rescued from an evil stepmother or kissing a frog and turning it into a prince.

H and I will not resume birth control after the birth of our twins. I just hope we won’t be too disappointed if our prince charming never shows.

Wrapping up my hair appointment, G, who kinda resembles a plump fairy godmother, proceeded to randomly refer me to a little-known restaurant that I might want to try close to my house. (It just so happens I’m trying to find a nice but local place to celebrate my impending birthday, but she didn’t know that). When I went home, I googled the restaurant and checked its menu--it happens to serve exactly the type of food I’m craving and it's not the typical menu you'd find near me. And looking at the restaurant’s pictures…the décor is just my style. Aah, I’ll have to schedule my hair appointments to run into this lady again! I felt refreshed all day.

Inflation

2007-01-12T07:04:00.000-08:00

Every day my belly seems to inflate a tiny bit more. People on the street have started staring at it. My co-workers laugh about it. Surprisingly, not too many people have touched it. I seem to be only gaining weight in the belly area, so I do look a little funny with this huge extension to my otherwise normally proportioned body (not counting the enhanced chest). I love it. It also scares me. I’m 20 weeks. Still a long way to go. My initial maternity pants are now too tight. The mediums that hung on me before now fit perfectly. I wonder how long before I must go shopping again. I’m making an effort not to buy many outfits, saving my hard earned cash for bras.

I never thought it would be this way, but my boobs are the bane of this pregnancy. I am continuing to have trouble finding bras that fit, and when I do, I grow out of them a few weeks later. Thankfully my band size finally seems to be expanding, so I will have an easier time finding larger cup sizes, and I might be able to save a few bras through extenders. I continue to have major indentation marks on my boobs after wearing a bra all day, and I worry that I’m doing permanent harm by always cutting off the circulation. Some days the undersides feel a little numb, and that can’t be good. Seriously though, what else can I do other than not wear a bra at all? (which I think would be too painful, as well as gross given their size) I’ve been “fitted” by three certified bra fitters. They’ve all done their best. I’m just a weird size. I’m still not fully convinced that there’s not something evil lurking in my breast tissue, but I am so focused on bringing this pregnancy to term that I honestly do not want to know. I’ve gotten two dark splotches just outside of my areolas on both breasts that make wonder about the whole IBC thing again, plus the skin still seems different from how it was pre-pregnancy. I’m hoping this is all just hormone related. I see my OB on Monday, so I’ll have her take a look again. Is anyone else out there have this many issues with their ladies???

In other news, the boys are moving around like crazy now! H can feel them easily, and sometimes the movement is so strong it startles me. Goodness, I have little people in there! I’m very excited to watch the twin special that will be on Sunday night to get an idea about what they’re up to in there. I read in the show’s promo material that twins sometimes play games in the womb! I have this funny image of them playing “Go Fish.”

Overall, things are good. I have a hard time sleeping the whole night through because of lots of aches and pains, and my ankles swell every day now, but other than the boob issue I can’t really complain. It makes me wonder what the next few weeks will have in store. I have had a few stomach aches that wouldn’t describe as cramps but that seem troublesome just the same. Another topic to discuss at Monday’s doctor’s appointment. I also see the peri on Wednesday, so I’ll have a full report.

I see it’s delurker week, so please say hello!

Shh...Don't Tell

2007-01-05T11:02:00.000-08:00

I haven’t had it in me to post much lately, although I have plenty to say. I think I’ve figured out why. I might just be happy. Truly happy for the first time in over a year. A whole year of unhappiness behind me. I don’t want the universe to hear me and smite me again, so I’ve been keeping it under wraps.

So what have I been doing in my blissed-out state? Scouring the clearance pages of Pottery B_arn Kids.com and grabbing amazing discounts on items for the nursery H has started painting. Folding and unfolding the Gymbor.ee clothes we bought for the twins so I can touch something that will belong to my babies. Directing H in assembling closet systems we splurged on from the Co_ntainer Store with my Christmas bonus. Eating small healthy, snacks almost every hour to prevent the twins from causing me to collapse from hunger. Sleeping whenever I’m not online shopping or eating. I’m still working, of course, but that is just a temporary distraction until I can get back home to my critical routine of eating, shopping, napping.

Naps have been preferable to a full night’s sleep, because I am very uncomfortable after sleeping for more than 2 hours at a time. My belly and back start to ache, and I have a hard time rolling over to switch sides. I’m right on target for my growth, and I love looking at my big, round belly, but I see how the next few growth spurts are really going to start taking a toll on me.

In answer to Seattlegal, who notes that her weight gain is hovering at the same place right now at 12 weeks, I did find that I stayed the same weight for a few weeks right around the start of my second trimester. It freaked me out a little, but then I had a growth spurt of a few pounds and it’s been a steady pound a week ever since.

Hi to Bella, who wrote that she is 3 days behind me with twins! Thanks for reading and I hope to hear more from you!

I’ve still been keeping up on my blog reading, though I haven’t always been able to comment as much because beta blogger is evil. My replies keep getting eaten by it.

So, now you know the truth. I’m scared to write about being happy. But I’m trying it out a little anyway. Because we all know I’ll have something to freak out about again sooner than later, so I might as well try to balance my blog out with the good and the bad.

I still wake up feeling amazed that I’m actually pregnant. I’m grateful my belly is so big because it gives me substantial proof that this pregnancy is real. Some of the worst side affects of IF are fading. I no longer grind my teeth at night, and I am now able to put friends’ baby pictures on the fridge again instead of in the kitchen junk drawer when they arrive in the mail. But the paranoia remains, as I buy baby items tentatively, refusing to buy duplicates of anything should something happen to one twin. I justified buying one “twin” item (a cute frame that says “two of a kind”) by telling myself I can always give it to my neighbor who is expecting twins if something should go wrong.

I need to get over my fear, as my peri has instructed me to go out and buy the big-ticket items like car seats and cribs now in case I need bedrest in the months to come. The 30-day return policies on these items scare me. Thirty-day return policies are for a fertile world, not an infertile one.

A New Year at Last!

2007-01-02T12:11:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year, Everyone!

I am so happy to say goodbye to 2006 and welcome 2007. I think we probably all are. Not that I rang in the new year in any kind of special way. H and I stayed in, played a board game, and watched a few movies. It was simple but great.

After recovering from my cold before Christmas, I then had to take care of H, who caught the same thing I had. We were quite a sniffling mess most of our break. We still managed to see family and a few friends, even though we stayed in much more than we would have normally. It was exciting telling everyone about the babies being boys. And this time we got to do what we wanted—make announcements to our parents in person, in a special way. They were very surprised and excited to hear the news, especially since they thought we wouldn’t know until after the holidays. H’s parents’ visit was much less painful than their other recent visits have been, so all in all we had a good week.

Once I got over my cold, I began noticing all my new pregnancy aches and pains—ligaments stretching and ankles swelling and such. I am getting very large, and it’s all focused in my belly! My belly button is completely out now and I’m really carrying everything in a big ball in front of me. I look more like 6 months pregnant than 19 weeks. I’ve gained almost 20 pounds. For twins, I appear to be right on track. My sister, who is now 16 weeks, has only gained 1 pound. She is continuing to vomit occasionally which accounts for the low weight gain (she lost 3 pounds in the first trimester which she did gain back.) She doesn’t look pregnant at all. The funny thing is, I’m still squeezing into some non-maternity clothes (long sweaters and loose sweats and such), while she has converted entirely to maternity clothes already. We’re very different.

I am eating constantly, and I find that I am very uncoordinated and messy in my current state. I’ve managed to spill something on myself almost every night at dinner. It’s almost like I’m preparing myself for the mess the babies will bring. Last night, I had a bit of a scare as I lost my footing on the stairs at home and slid down a few steps on my well-padded butt. I screamed, more out of shock than pain, and was touched to see that not only H came running to check on me, but so did my two cats, who I had been sound asleep on my bed down the hall just moments before. My cats are so awesome. They actually ran right to me, eyes huge, tails puffed, looking all concerned. Maybe I can teach them to paw 911 when H isn’t home?

Just Kick Me, Why Don't You?

2006-12-22T01:59:00.000-08:00

So yesterday I was super sick. I was even running a 100 degree temperature. I managed to get it down with some Tylenol, however, and spent most of the entire day wrapped up on the couch.

Even though it was a Thursday and I should have been at work, a lot of my friends seemed to have this sixth sense that I was home, because calls kept rolling in all day.

Most calls I did not take because I simply was not capable of getting up, but when I saw my best friend (really former best friend) had left messages on my cell, home, and work lines, I mustered the energy to call her back. Now, a bit of background, she is the uber-fertile with a not-yet-1 year old baby who has been completely oblivious to my infertility and told me all about how she was going to start trying again for #2 in the spring after I told her about my pregnancy (from this post).

Well, you guessed it. Just like uberfertile friend #1 who was going to start trying this month, she is already pregnant quite acidentally. She was quite distraught when I spoke to her on the phone. Evidently, she had peed on a stick just an hour before she called me and was freaking out. She was going on about how she was NOT ready to be pregnant again and how it was going to suck and how she had just called her husband in tears (not of joy) with the news. How messed up is it to call your husband miserable with news of a pregnancy. I mean, afterall, they did want another, and were going to start trying again soon. Ugh.

I'm not sure what she wanted me to say. I mean, she has no clue about my IF, but she knows it took me awhile and she knows that I'm thrilled about my pregnancy. So it's not like I was going to commiserate with her and be like--yeah, bummer for you.

It's just not fair to everyone struggling to have kids.

So my friend says she has "no idea" how she got pregnant, saying her hubbie has been using condoms. She remarked that she supposed he was putting them on too late in the game. Ugh, TMI! And come on, don't they know how to use condoms by now? The awful part is that Baby #1 was also very "unplanned," so you think she would have learned by now. She was just as upset to learn about her first pregnancy as this one, even though she has always wanted kids. So, I listened to her talk for awhile, but when she started going on about all the awful pregnancy symptoms she was dreading I had to let her go, blaming my cold. I did tell her that she should really feel lucky that she gets pregnant so easily, because it's not that way for everyone.

H was just livid when I relayed the conversation to him. He has no respect for her at all anymore. He felt that way when she reacted like that to Baby #1, and back then we didn't even know we had a problem for sure.

Anyway, at least the other phone calls that came in yesterday were good--news of friends getting engaged and stuff, and some people who I e-mailed about the boys called me with congratulations.

I now think everybody who could be pregnant in my circle of friends/family is pregnant, so at least I'll have no more announcements of successful pee sticks for awhile! Here's the baby breakdown--My neighbor friend is due in late April, I'm due in May, my sister in June, uberfertile friend #1 in July, former best friend in August.

Given all that, I am beyond grateful that God/the universe/forces beyond my control decided to give me with a positive IVF cycle, because I'm not sure I could have handled this absolute onslaught of 2007 pregnancies otherwise. I think H and I would have moved or been committed to a mental institution.

It's a...

2006-12-21T05:16:00.000-08:00

Boy and a Boy!!!

The ultrasound went very well yesterday, and there was no denying the gender of the babies, who are snuggled in my uterus head to head. One measures at 7 ounces and the other at 8 ounces, which I'm told is right on track. Their heartbeats were strong. My peri said they're still a little too small to detect any potential problems visually, but they currently look great so I have nothing to worry about for the time being. My next appointment is in another 4 weeks. So worry probably won't start creeping back in until 3 weeks from now as I wait to see them again.

The peri said my one placenta is still over my cervix, so we'll be keeping a close eye on that even though it could still move out of the way in time for delivery. So he says. My regular OB kinda thinks it will stay right where it is. But hey, he's the twin specialist, not her. I was warned there may be spotting, but so far other than one incident a month ago, I've been fine.

The peri says now that I'm feeling better and have more energy, I should go out and prepare for the babies as much as possible, since I may very well need bed rest in the third trimester. Doctor's orders to shop--hooray! But would you believe I woke up with yet another bad cold this morning? My immune system totally sucks right now. So I'm at home, tissues in one hand and computer mouse in the other as I troll Pott*ry Barn_Kids for boy nursery themes.

Happy day!

At Peace with 2006; Ready for 2007

2006-12-18T08:04:00.000-08:00

I had a really great weekend. I decided to put all my stress aside and just focus on being in the moment for once. Being pregnant. Being excited for the holidays. Being myself with H again after a very rough year. It seems to be true that the second trimester really is the honeymoon period of pregnancy. I’ve had a few hours at a time where I’ve felt absolutely great—no fatigue, no unhappy stomach, no headaches. On Saturday morning, I felt so good when I woke up after sleeping in that I had to check my belly to make sure it was still there. It was, plus as I got ready to shower I saw I had developed another milestone symptom. The linea nigra had appeared—a faint, but unmistakable dark line running from my belly button to my bikini line. Hooray! I think I might actually believe I’m pregnant and everything might just be okay with the babies.

In that spirit, I laughed more easily this weekend, relaxed, and did all sorts of nesting activities around the house. We cleaned closets, organized junk drawers, gathered old clothes for donation, and chose a color for our new office, since the current office will become our nursery. H began prepping the walls of the new office for the new paint job. We plan to have the room finished over the holidays so that we can begin the nursery right afterwards, since we will know the sex of the babies on Wednesday! While H did the more intensive work that needed to be done around the house, I baked holiday cookies and listened to Christmas music. Such a peaceful time. We went out to dinner, did a little last-minute gift shopping, and generally just enjoyed each other’s company. I really just felt good to be alive.

So I’m going to try to cling to this peaceful feeling as we visit all my relatives this coming weekend and prepare for H’s parents to stay with us for a few days. I’m trying to keep my apprehension to a minimum. I’ve asked H to help me from getting worked up about the things his parents do that set us both off. I need to ignore it. Or at least not dwell on it. I also need to stop stressing about my parents’ expectations. I can’t make everybody happy all the time, right?

2006 was a very bad year in a lot of ways—I needed to find a new job because of deplorable working conditions (long story for another day), H and I were in an overseas car accident that left us very shaken up and wiped out most of our savings when insurance wouldn’t cover us, we were diagnosed with infertility, we had to struggle to make ends meet to pay for IVF meds while paying for unforeseen house emergencies, we went through the emotional strain of treatment while trying to protect our dignity from insensitive relatives, and H’s grandmother passed away the very day of our transfer.

Despite all this, 2006 has turned itself around into a very good year. I found a new job with amazing people and amazing benefits, H and I walked away from the car accident physically unharmed, we successfully went through treatment and became pregnant with two babies, I finished my master’s degree, and H and I have a plan to not only pay off our debt but actually save for the babies’ arrival, thanks to some serious budgeting, a few unexpected bonuses, and an inheritance we received from H’s grandmother. The most important part about 2006 is that H and I are entering 2007 as a stronger, more committed couple that has been tested and passed the strains of a very challenging year. After this year, I think we can get through anything together.

Family Conflicts and Birthday Blues

2006-12-15T06:41:00.000-08:00

I’m a little frustrated right now at my mom, so this post will be more of a petty gripe fest than anything else. If you’re not in the mood to hear about my family issues, I understand. It always helps me to write about them though.

January is birthday month in my family. My sister’s is first, mine is 2 weeks later, then my grandmother’s is a week later. It has always sucked having them all so close together; plus I’ve had a lot of lousy birthdays, as I will explain.

This year, my sister’s b-day is the same weekend as my upcoming graduation. I thought about not walking at graduation, but I ultimately decided that it would bring me some much needed closure after all the work I did this year. The college is rather close to my parents/sister, but both are an hour and a half away from me. I knew having both events the same weekend was going to be very time consuming for me, because there would be no way my parents would let me get away with coming down just for my graduation and celebrating my sister’s b-day the same day, even though it’s a 3-hour round trip each time. Well, my sister’s b-day is on Friday and graduation is on Sunday. I didn’t assume that my sister would be coming to my graduation since her pregnancy has made her so sick, but my mom told me that she was planning on it. My mom starts in on me last night, saying she wants to go out to dinner with the family on Saturday night for D’s b-day, and H and I can spend the night if we want so we don’t have to drive back for my graduation the next day. Well, since D’s actual birthday is Friday, not Saturday, I (feeling cranky) decide to take a stand and say—“look, if we’re not going out on D’s actual birthday on Friday night, why can’t H and I just see her on Sunday?” My mom is immediately snarky with me. “I don’t want to combine celebrations” she says, overemphasizing the word combine. Ha! My sister must have said something to her about my strong opposition to a joint shower. I knew she would. Because my mom has absolutely nothing against combining (or downright ignoring) celebrations when it comes to me.

Since my birthday is sandwiched between my sister’s and my grandmother’s birthdays, several times in recent years we have celebrated both my and my sister’s birthday on her birthday due to schedule conflicts later in the month with my birthday. At first it bugged me a little and then I just stopped caring. The worst was the year of my 21st birthday. That year, my grandmother turned 80, and so my mom decided to throw my grandmother a huge, catered party for this milestone. Because she wanted my grandmother to be surprised, she decided to hold the party a week earlier, on the Saturday of my exact birthday. My birthday went completely ignored that day by my mom and the party guests. They didn’t even acknowledge it. We had a small dinner at home with just my parents/sister instead the day after. How crappy is that? It would have been nice for her to at least announce to everyone that I was also celebrating a big birthday on that very day; maybe give me a small cake of my own. I have always been bitter about her choosing my exact birthday for that party without even asking if it would bother me at all. But my birthdays growing up have almost always sucked, so it wasn’t a huge surprise. Most years, my dad would be out of town for them due to business (somehow he was always gone for my birthday but never once missed my sister’s.) I’d always be upset about it, but there’d be no consolation for it—no making it up to me. I’d spend the day at home, usually snowed in, with a take-out pizza as my birthday treat. I remember when my dad had to be out of town for my mom’s birthday for the first time just a few years ago. She was so upset. Visibly upset when she found out. He gave her a huge gift before and after the trip, and sent her roses on the actual day. He made sure my sister and I came down to take her out that day even though it was a weekday and I worked by then. How funny the difference in treatment. A 50-something woman gets treated like a baby, and I’m essentially told to suck it up as a 7, 8, and 9 year old.

One year when my dad was home for my birthday and it fell on a Saturday, I was so excited. I was about 12. I thought it would be great for sure. Maybe we’d see a movie that day or something. Nothing big—just go somewhere, anywhere. My dad informed me he and my mom just wanted to stay home and relax that day. He told me he’d take me to the library for a little bit because I had a school project due that week. And so that’s all we did. I worked on my project that day. My disappointment was just crushing. As a result, I’ve come to associate my birthday with disappointments and hurt feelings. It’s awful. Every year I anticipate a bad birthday. The best birthday I have ever had was the year it fell on my first business trip, and I got to go somewhere warm and sunny with H while the snow fell at home. It was such a liberating experience, not sticking around on my birthday for yet another letdown by my parents. The healing affects of that trip were short lived though. I find I’m still depressed as my birthday approaches each year and I recall all the painful family memories.

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve always felt I’ve come in a distant second to my sister as far as my parent’s attention. My sister has not had the same birthday experience with my parents. Her birthday is a “must attend” event, even though it falls just after we’ve seen everybody countless time over Christmas week. I guess by the time they get to my birthday they are partied out, or too busy getting ready for my grandmother’s birthday. God forbid my sister should have to share her birthday celebration with my graduation. So, things got very strained with my mom on the phone last night as I explained I probably would only be coming down on Sunday to see everyone, and I would give D her b-day presents then. I said they should go ahead to dinner Saturday without me. It would be a different story if I lived close like they do, but I don’t. Since my b-day has always been an afterthought, why do I feel so guilty today? I feel so torn. I always end up caving and doing what they want me to. Yet nobody ever bends for me. Hence my many issues. I can assure you that my kids will have a very different birthday experience from mine.

When I first found out I’d be having May babies, I was so thrilled that they wouldn’t be born in January like so many in my family. But guess what—history is now repeating itself, only in May/June. My babies will be born first, followed by my mom’s b-day, then immediately followed by my sister’s baby’s birthday. The cycle continues? I hope not.

Being Pregnant at the Same Time as Uber-Fertiles

2006-12-11T10:50:00.000-08:00

For the most part, I have been pleasantly surprised about the warm, excited responses I’ve received from friends when I’ve told them about my pregnancy. I’ve been very apprehensive about telling people, and for the most part, my fears were unfounded. Most friends don’t ask rude questions, and everyone has been so nice. It’s amazing to see how people gush over pregnant women. Who knew. I’ve never been much of a gusher about pregnant women myself.

My two fertile friends with infants managed to annoy me a little, however, when I shared my news. The first words out of their mouths after congratulations were “we’re trying again soon so maybe we’ll be pregnant for part of the same time!” Swell. You already have a baby. Can you just give me a moment to catch my breathe before you astound me with your uber-fertileness yet again? (These are all women who got pregnant “on the very first try!!”) Well, at Thanksgiving, one of these friends gave me the whole run down about how she was expecting her period next week and then they were going to quit using condoms so that hopefully they’d be pregnant by Christmas. Does anyone else feel a little sick hearing talk like that? I mean, can it really be that simple and fast?

Well, guess what, friends? Getting knocked up can happen even faster for the uber-fertiles in my life. This same girl met me at the mall to help me do some maternity clothes shopping yesterday, and she happily announced that she actually was already pregnant “by accident” at Thanksgiving. She just hadn’t known it yet. She’s now 7 weeks. Her baby will be 2 months younger than mine. How. does. this. happen????? She didn’t even have to try for one stinking month. Even H was a little bitter.

I’ll now take a moment to say how it does suck to share your pregnancy with pregnant fertiles. First my sister, now my friend. My other friend will probably be close behind. I’m happy for them; don’t get me wrong. I guess I just wanted this to be my time for a little bit, since it will very, very likely be my one and only pregnancy, and these girls either have already had one baby or will go on to have several more. Did we really have to overlap so closely with our due dates? I mean May, June, July—one right after another. Isn’t it funny that my babies will be old news in my social circle before they’re even a month old? I’m also a little sad about the fact that I’ll have to share my parent’s excitement and attention about my babies with their excitement over my sister’s baby. I want the babies (all three of them) to have their own time to shine with their grandparents.

For the most part, this is a frivolous post because I am just so happy about my pregnancy that it doesn’t really matter about all this stuff. I am feeling the best I have felt emotionally in a very long time. I guess this post was prompted by Hopeful Mother’s blog entry about experiencing the disappointment of a failed cycle while learning of her SIL’s second pregnancy at the same time. Towards the end of her post, she writes:

“But I am also actually thankful that if SIL is going to be pregnant, that I’m not pregnant right along with her at this moment. The comparisons I would feel without IF are bad enough – but I know that a fertile going through pregnancy is just not the same as an infertile going through pregnancy…If we ever make it there, I want our pregnancy to be ours alone and I don’t want to share that time with anyone else.”

I just want to let everyone know that yes, it’s true—the differences you will see between your pregnancy and your fertile pregnant friend/relative’s pregnancy can be very surprising and sometimes upsetting. And after such a long, heartbreaking struggle to become pregnant, you want the time to be about you and you alone. You don’t need your 7-weeks pregnant friend buying maternity clothes along with you, when she hasn’t even begun to need them yet and she still has a closet full of them at home from her pregnancy less than 2 years ago. It just seems a little cocky and unnecessary, don’t you think?

Being pregnant for Christmas is even more wonderful than I’ve always dreamed it would be, and in a way that makes the scars of infertility burn even more. I now know that I was fully justified in the complete heartbreak I felt in the thought that I might never be pregnant. And that makes this pregnancy even more fragile and important and scary. It makes me pray even harder for those of you still waiting.

In other news, I think I’ve been feeling the babies move some, but it’s hard for me to be confident about it. It feels like an eternity before my next scan on Dec. 20. My belly is continuing to grow, so I hope that means there are really two still alive and well in there.

Face to Face with Another Infertile

2006-12-08T05:55:00.000-08:00

I love getting comments. They are always so helpful, so thank you! I definitely think I do need to add more protein to my diet to balance all the fruit I’ve been eating, and I’m finally at a point where I think I can do that. For awhile protein was making me a little queasy. Meg, about the maternity bras, yes I did convert a few weeks ago. They feel great at first, and then I grow out of them. I’m about to go on bra hunt number three. (I shudder to think of all the money I’m spending on bras.) My favorite so far is this Elle Mc.Pherson nursing bra. So comfy until the right boob started inching ahead of the left again. The bra leaves marks even though it doesn’t have an underwire! This time when I go shopping, I’m going to put myself in the hands of a fitting specialist. Can anyone tell me how, um, exposed you have to be to get measured properly? I’m just not into saleswomen seeing me in my ill-fitting bras. Guess I need to get over it.

Okay, so back to the story about who I told my IF story to the other day. There is a girl at work, Jen, that I’ve gotten friendly with since I started here, and she’s a few years older than me with no kids. She’s married, and we have a lot in common. The kid topic has never come up with us, but someone at work told me that she was undergoing IVF treatments and had been for awhile. Evidently she’s at least somewhat open about it if this person knew, because they’re not very close, and supposedly other people in the office know about it too. I learned this right as I was starting my IVF cycle and really wanted to say something to her about it so we could commiserate. Just the same, I didn’t feel comfortable bringing it up randomly, especially since she had no idea that I knew. I figured sooner or later I’d run into her at the branch of my clinic that’s right by my office.

Well, I never ran into her and it never came up naturally in conversation, so I didn’t push it. Then I got pregnant, and immediately thought of her when I started telling people at work. How she would feel having yet another pregnant woman in the office (there are several that just had babies this summer). I decided that I would tell her that I did IVF, even though I don’t want the whole office to know. Well, she’s been out a lot lately, likely due to another cycle. She was out the week I told everyone I was pregnant, then I was away after that. This week, I’m showing and people are starting to bring it up in conversation, so I wanted to talk to her alone before she heard about my pregnancy from someone else.

We went to lunch, and again kids and babies were the furthest thing from our conversation (not surprising for infertiles, I guess! We get to be good at avoiding the topic.) I almost chickened out of telling her about the pregnancy even. So finally, I said, “Hey Jen, I’ve got something I wanted to tell you outside of the office that’s a little personal but that I want you to know.” She looked very concerned. I blurted out that I was pregnant with twins, and her concerned look immediately went away and she gave me a hearty congratulations. She actually looked happy for me. She asked when they were due and stuff, and didn’t ask anything about them being natural. I steered the conversation back to what I really wanted to say. I told her the reason I wanted to talk to her outside of the office was that I had heard that she was going through IVF and I wanted her, and her alone, to know that I had too. I told her that I knew for myself hearing news about pregnancies was hard while I was going through treatment, and so I just wanted to be open with her about it even though I’d be lying my butt off in the office whenever the “natural” question came up. There was immediate understanding.

Telling her this news seemed to take down a wall. Now we were looking at each other truly eye to eye and relating. She seemed surprised that I had done IVF and at the same time she looked very glad I told her. She told me she had just had her 2nd failed cycle over 2 years, after several failed FETs and IUIs. We traded stories, and overall I must say that she seems to be handling IF much better than me. She said she was never that driven to have kids that are biologically her own, though she wants them whatever way they can come to her, and she’s starting to think about the adoption process. We talked about the impact IF has had on our husbands. It wasn’t a long conversation because I waited until almost the end of lunch to bring it up, but we agreed to get out again soon to talk more. She does seem genuinely happy that things have worked out for me, and I really hope things will work out for her soon. I explained to her why I wasn’t coming out to people about my treatment, and she was understanding. I’m glad I told her even though it was hard, because I couldn’t let another infertile think she was even more alone as someone else announced another pregnancy. Even with the pregnancy, I am still very much an infertile.

My Current State of Being

2006-12-07T09:24:00.000-08:00

I’m in high spirits this week, though I did hear two dead twin stories yesterday. I learned about someone’s acquaintance who had one twin die at 16 weeks. (Not a good thing to hear when you’re at 15 weeks.) Then, my general practitioner, who I finally went to see about my cough, immediately told me that his mom had miscarried his twin brothers at 7 months upon hearing my news. Um, thanks for that. I like him though. He’s very thorough and though he maybe talks a little too much about anything and everything, he doesn’t rush appointments. I’ll be taking the twins to him for pediatrics (God willing that they make it). Funny thing is, he didn’t even ask about whether I did IVF or anything. If my doctor, who probably has the most reason to ask such a question, didn’t need to ask, then everybody else can just mind their own business! I really liked GLouise’s response to my post yesterday—all so true and reassuring.

Anyhow, I wanted to give a quick health report for those of you obsessing about your condition like I am. The doc found no real reason for my cough other than it being a seasonal thing, and he suggested a cough drop that numbs the throat a little for relief. I hate cough drops though, so the name/brand went in one ear and out the other. I was feeling better, but then I had a major coughing fit last night that woke me up and made my stomach hurt so much. I find I have a lot of growing pains at night so I hope everything is fine.

I’ve had major headaches every day for several weeks now, and there’s really nothing I can do about them. I find laying down actually makes them worse. This has prevented me from sleeping in on the weekends, because I tend to wake up at 5 am with the headache and have to get up. I’m also peeing a million times a day—the frequency seems to have increased this past month. My lower back has been hurting from time to time, probably due to the growing boobs and belly.

When I looked down at my belly last night as I changed my clothes, I saw my belly button had completely popped out. Even though I’m just into my 4th month of pregnancy, I look a full 5 months when analyzing the pregnant woman illustrations in my “What to Expect” book. I guess it’s time to start taking some pictures of my belly!

I’m still concerned about my pink breasts, but I’m chalking it up to not being able to find the perfect bra. The new, expensive bras I bought while I was away still leave marks on the larger one that take hours to go away. A lot of my bras seem to be cutting off my circulation. Last night, the pink, marked-up area was a little numb. Ugh. I hate my boobs. I always thought it was great that I had a little bit of a chest. I never knew how much I would wish for an A cup. They are so big now they have stretch marks.

The other new development is that I feel the need to eat just about every hour. And it’s not a pleasant “oh I’m hungry” feeling. It’s a “oh my god I better eat or I’m going to die” feeling. I feel much better for about a half hour after eating. Then the process starts again. I don’t enjoy food at all, which makes it even harder. I’ve been able to eat healthy things at least. I’m always in the mood for fruit. Today, before lunch, I’d already eaten a lunch baggie full of grapes, a baggie full of strawberries, an apple, and a kiwi. This was in addition to a huge chunk of cheese, a granola bar, a dried fruit pouch, and a bagel. Maybe I should just eat a bigger sit-down breakfast? I really only have time for these quick snacks rather than a sit-down meal.

Other than these minor discomforts, I’m doing well. I’ll find out the sex of the babies on Dec. 20, less than 2 weeks away! This will be a very detailed scan, checking for lots of things, so I hope it will be a good one. Every time I feel like I might go out and start buying some of the major ticket baby items, I tell myself to wait until after the next scan. I really need to start shopping after this if we are going to spread out paying for two of everything. That and I won’t be up to going shopping once I get too big. I know it’s still early, but given my current size I now fully believe my doctor when he says that I don’t have much more time left to get around easily. Plus I want to be prepared in case I need bed rest. I don’t want to be over eager, but I feel like the time to go crib, stroller, and car seat shopping is upon me, especially if things need to be ordered.

Truth and Lies

2006-12-06T13:37:00.000-08:00

The week of Thanksgiving, at 13 weeks, I finally started telling extended family members, friends, and colleagues about my pregnancy. Partially, I felt that 13 weeks was at least "safer," and mostly I had to tell people because I was starting to visibly show. After being out of town for a whole week and a half after Thanksgiving, I'm glad I told, because I have put on 5 more pounds since then (for a total of 10) and I no longer fit into any of my non-maternity clothes. I have a suprisingly round belly that sticks out pretty far, though not yet quite as far as my utterly annoying monster boobs.

Anyhow, in getting to this point of telling, H and I had to decide what we were going to answer when the fertility treatment question was inevitably asked. H felt we should just flat out lie and say we did no treatments. To everyone. Even to friends who had an incling we were headed in the IVF direction. At first this made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to lie. My approach was this:

Q: So, did you do fertility treatments?
A: Twins run in my family.

To me, this was not answering the question, but not lying either. H said this was just as good as admitting we had a problem and that I needed to say the word no. Well, since H's opinions have taken a back seat to mine during this whole process, I decided not to argue with him on this one. We would lie. And I'd ask God's forgiveness (Catholic guilt). The good thing about lying is that it closes the subject of infertility from further discussion. There are no follow up questions. If you say you did treatments, that leads to a conversation you might not have wanted to have, and one that the person asking might not have realized they didn't want to have.

I didn't think lying would work in every case though, because I had 2 friends that I already told outright that we were doing IVF. There was no " we might do it"-- I just admitted to it. There would be no way to "untell" these friends. Right?

Well, turns out these two friends don't really listen to much of what I say, or at least they don't retain it. When I told them (individually) about our pregnancy, they both asked immediately whether we had ended up doing IVF or not. I was a little stunned. I mean, I had told them the date of my first shot. I told them the whole process. Granted, I did not talk to either of them from the week before treatment started until now, so they weren't getting updates along the way, but still. How could they not know/remember the answer to that question already?

So I lied and said no. I said we were ready for treatments but everything worked out in the end. Boy did I feel guilty. But hey, if they are that careless in remembering this huge detail about my life, then I guess it really didn't matter whether they knew the truth or not. What was the point of them knowing anyway? Both said how happy they were to hear I didn't do IVF because they were worried about the side effects it would have on me. Whatever. I told them I saw nothing wrong with the procedure and you do what you have to do when you're in that situation. Aren't I one big contradiction? I don't want to come out to people, but I'm not ashamed of doing IVF. So I guess my main reason for not telling people is that they tend to ask stupid, intrusive questions that inadvertently hurt my feelings, and my answers really don't mean anything to them anyway. So why should I open myself and H up to that? Given H's parent's handling of the information, it just goes to show that you can't trust people to respect or consider your feelings.

So lying has gotten easier. For the most part, the only people who have immediately asked if the twins "are natural" are people I find mildly annoying already. Why would I want to tell them the truth? I hate the whole "are they natural" question, implying seeking help makes a baby "un-natural." It's just rude, and I'd find it annoying no matter how I got pregnant.

So now there is only one friend, a current co-worker, who knows the whole truth. And I believe I can trust her to keep quiet. She has seen me through several breakdowns during this whole thing, so I think she knows just how emotionally draining it has been for me.

I did, however, tell the truth to one other person yesterday. But I have to save that story for later...

Still on the Road

2006-11-30T22:37:00.000-08:00

I'm still on business travel so this will be brief, but I wanted to report the very good news that my cousin's breast biopsy came back negative for cancer. Thank God.

My trip has been exhausting as I'm still struggling with the remnants of my cold. Does anybody out there have anything to say about taking Robituss*n during pregnancy? I've been trying so very hard not to take it more than once a day and only then if I'm practically choking, but I still don't want to overdue it. It's on my "safe drug" list from the doctor, but I know so many people who refuse so much as a cough drop when they're pregnant. Unfortunately, my cough has been keeping me up at night and driving me crazy. This is a typical ailment for me this time of year.

I came out about the pregnancy to a lot of my colleagues this week at the conference. So many responses from the women were--"I thought you looked like you put on weight but didn't want to say anything." Kinda made me laugh...kinda. One said she thought my age was just catching up with me at last. These are nice people, actually, so it was funny to hear them say these things. I didn't take offense. I just think they've all been anxiously awaiting my thin body's demise for awhile now. ;)

My belly is really growing. Really growing. I've only put on about 4 pounds since this all started, but it's all concentrated in the tummy. Even my belly button is already starting to turn into an outie. It's pretty cool, and yet terrifying. After all my obsessed worrying that something will go wrong, I may be coming to term with the fact that these babies may actually be a reality. These week, I also stopped calling babies "the embryos" when discussing them with H and will now address them as babies. A big turning point. They'll always be my little embryos.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2006-11-22T13:04:00.000-08:00

And Happy Belated Thanksgiving to my Canadian friends...

All is well, pretty much. I woke up with a bad sore throat and cold today, but I'm off from work and have been able to rest all day. H and I saw the peri this morning, and he said the babies are looking good, although they are really too small to know much about them at this point. In 4 weeks, at our next appointment, he said we'll learn all sort of things about them, including their sex. It was funny how he said we'd know so much more about them, as if we'd find out their favorite color or something. They didn't look much bigger than 3 weeks ago, but they had some nice looking spines! They kinda sparkle. So, it was a good way to start the holiday weekend, other than being sick.

As far as the spotting, the peri said the reason is that baby b's placenta is completely on top of my cervix. The old placenta previa I've read so much about. He said it's perfectly normal with twins this early, and he'll let me know when it corrects itself. Until then, I have to be mindful of the old cervix. Sorry H, no real action this month...

On the pink ladies front, my doctor friend spoke with an oncologist she knows for me, and she said that IBC speeads really fast and is painful and itchy. I'm not in pain or itchy. Just the same, the pinkness remains and at least now I have a oncologist I can go see if I want. She said she'd be happy to see me whenever I want.
No word on my cousin yet.

I'll be out of town all of next week, so it may be awhile before I post again. Will be checking in on other blogs, though! Hope everyone is doing well.

Quick Update

2006-11-21T04:50:00.000-08:00

Warning--TMI ahead

I continued to ooze a light brown cm all afternoon yesterday, though it was really only visible when I wiped. It was lighter than the darker brown I had first thing in the morning. The OB checked my cervix and said it was fine, then did a vaginal exam with a speculum and said--"oh, yeah, I see some brown mucous and it's nothing to be worried about." I asked her what it was from and she said it was just one of those things. Not the best answer, but she kept reassuring me it was fine. I asked her if it might develop into something and she said no. (I read plenty about brown spots being the first sign of a problem for some people on the blogs). She told me only to worry if it was bright red. She didn't even think the darker brown stuff I had initially was old blood--just the mucous. She said my cervix was in good shape, and then she did a quick scan to see the twins. They were both there, but she was real quick about it so I didn't see much. She said both heartbeats were strong. I was relieved, but wished the scan had been a little longer. It doesn't matter though, since I see the peri tomorrow first thing for an in-depth scan.

This morning I got to work and again ran to the bathroom. This time, there was real light caramel-colored goo all on my liner. At least it's getting lighter, I guess, and kinda going back to the consistency of the white sticky stuff I've had all along. Way more than you needed to know--sorry. I find writing everything down here is good for my own records of what's happening with my body.

So, on to the pink breast issue. Now my other breast is equally pink in the same location as the right one, and the doctor didn't seemed concerned at all. She said it's a good sign that the other breast is doing the same thing. (This was a different OB than the one who sent me to the breast center). The pinkness seems to line up perfectly with where my bras have been iritating me (even the new ones aren't a perfect fit), so she thinks my skin is just sensitive. I told her about my cousin and she didn't really comment. She said alot of people are getting scared by the rash-form of breast cancer, but it's extremely rare. We'll know the results of my cousin's biopsy tomorrow (poor thing--right before Thanksgiving. I'm praying it's good news so there will be truly something to be thankful for). If it's positive for cancer, I'll push harder for a more thorough exam next time. I felt like this one was overall a little rushed, even though she did listen to all my concerns and answer all my questions. Overall, it was a good appointment though. She told me to try to relax because everything looks good, and she said she understood that relaxing is difficult after what it took to get pregnant.

Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. I'm still praying double that everything continues to work out. H was worried sick too, but he reminded me that this worry will never go away, even once the twins are born. We'll always be worried about them, and I know that's true.

Spotting

2006-11-20T05:45:00.000-08:00

I am 13 weeks and a day. I had a great weekend, and I was feeling good this morning. Until I got to work, made my usual beeline for the bathroom, and saw brown spotting. It wasn't much, about a dime, but I am still freaking out anyway. When I wiped there was some more of the brown residue, and an hour later I went back to the bathroom and there was more brown, liquidy stuff when I wiped.

Luckily I already have my doctor's appointment set up this afternoon. Aside from a few twinges, I haven't had any cramps. Still, when I called H to tell him about it I just about started crying. Not good. I know some light spotting/bleeding might be normal, but considering how scared I still am about my boob this is not what I needed this morning.

I was just starting to feel more confident about this pregnancy (my miscarriage worries had been replaced by breast cancer worries). We told all of our friends at a party on Friday night that we are having twins. I went maternity clothes shopping with my mom on Saturday. H and I joined Co_stco on Sunday and bought our first bulk box of diapers. I thought everything would be okay by 13 weeks.

Please let everything be okay.

Tagged--Five Things About Me

2006-11-19T03:08:00.000-08:00

The downside to being tired all the time is that I sleep too much during the day and then become wide awake at 5 am on weekends. Luckily I have a tag from Motel Manager to occupy me until the sun comes up!

So, five things you don't know about me:

1. I was on an episode of a Saturday morning kid's game show called Head's Up when I was in 5th grade. I woke up with a terrible sore throat the day of filming, but I still managed to buzz in and croak out all the right answers to win my jeopardy-like segment. I still have it on tape and it's horribly embarrassing now!

2. I've never broken a single bone to date. Would like to keep it that way, but I am so clumsy that only divine intervention is preventing it from happening at this point.

3. When I was little, I had a pet hermit crab that I loved so much I kissed it. When I did, it attached it's claw to my lip and wouldn't let go. My mom had to pry it off of me.

4. Two out of the three guys I dated seriously in high school have now come out of the closet. I guess that's to be expected when you run with the theatre crowd! (H was a theatre guy too...he was the player type though. I'm the only girl he ever dated past a few months.)

5. I want to live in Florida one day, preferably before I'm too old to enjoy it.

Now I'd like to tag:
Sticky Feet
(Please support Jamie during her dreaded 2ww that starts today!)

Jonesing for a Baby
(Michelle needs 2ww support too--the transfer is Monday!)

UtRus
(If she's not too sick from her twins on board!)

If any of you have already done this one, please feel free to disregard. I'm a little scatterbrained these days (it seems you really do get baby brain or something) and find myself much more forgetful than I was before.

More later--have lots to tell about this weekend. All good stuff, really, for a change. I will say real quick that I went on an extensive bra hunt this weekend to see if a bigger bra would help my pinkness go away. I've felt that even my new bigger maternity bras have been cutting off the circulation in my bigger side, right where the pinkness appears. It seems that old leftie might be catching up, because she was pink yesterday too, in the same way, and seemed a little larger. Anyway, had to buy a 36DD--Oh my lord. But you know what, the girls were much more comfortable. I'm still pink though, so we'll see what happens. I spoke at length with a doctor friend about it, and she thinks I have good reason to be concerned and to follow up with my OB, but that I shouldn't be as worried as I am. She told me to get off Dr. Google...

Shout Out to Fellow Bloggers

2006-11-17T06:21:00.000-08:00

Recently a few of my good blog friends have pulled down their blogs and identities; I'm sure for good reason. I don't get to say hi to them directly as a result though, so this e-mail is a "Hi" to those of you still reading but not posting on your own these days. Special congrats to Lisa, who is 8.5 weeks pregnant!!! I am so very, very happy for you! Thanks for your comments--they mean so much. I'm bad about checking the e-mail account associated with this blog, but I'll try to check it if you want to drop me a line directly and then I can give you my more active address.

The support I've gained through this network of amazing people is truly a blessing. I am so lucky to be able to share celebrations, worries, and just random rantings with a group of people who really get it. This blog has helped me stay sane, and I know it's responsible for a lot of the strength I've managed to pull together over the past few months.

I'm really tired these days. I hope that's entirely because of the two little lifes growing inside of me and not something more. This year has had so many extreme highs and lows that I'm not sure how much more I can handle. I'm just praying for a quiet holiday season that will bring everybody some peace, if not just for a little while.

Hope you all have a great weekend.

One Step at a Time

2006-11-16T05:06:00.000-08:00

Thank you for your concern and thoughts. I'm trying to be a little more rational about this. Since I have an appointment Monday morning with my OB, I don't think I need to try to see her or a specialist before then since it's already Thursday. When I had my appointment with the breast center, I asked them what I should do if I had any further concerns or saw more changes in the breast. Their response was to see my OB again and let her make the next logical referral. The thing is, my "symptoms" haven't changed or increased in the past week, so I don't want to jump the gun just because of what I read on the Internet. The part about my cousin is very scary, and I'm worried about her, but the fact is that her condition caused her doctors to go for a biopsy. If my doctors thought I needed I biopsy, wouldn't they have recommended it right then? The breast center I went to has a very good reputation, and two people saw me there.Of the three people who have examined me so far, not one of them said the words inflammatory breast cancer (IBC).

The fact remains though that we still don't know the underlying cause for my breast changes, and that is a concern. Yes, the changes could be pregnancy related. It's just that these symptoms don't seem to be the normal pregnancy ones. Looking at IBC pictures and testimonials, my breast certainly doesn't look like the clear-cut cases, yet it does fit some of the description. The redness is really more of a pinkness, and I wouldn't call it a rash, but the skin does dimple when you pinch it, which is supposedly a sign of IBC. Although my right side has always been larger, I would say it's quite a bit larger now while my left side has really just seemed normal lately. IBC is a very rare form of cancer, and supposedly not hereditary, so really the chances of me having it are small, even if my cousin does, which we don't know yet. Of course, the chances of having IF requiring IVF with ICSI were small...

I did read some things that said all the Internet hype about IBC has created an unnecessary scare for women. Yet reading some of the first-hand testimonials from people who were diagnosed with it, I find similarities in their stories to my own that scare me.

Sometimes the Internet may cause me more harm than good. I've spun myself up into thinking I'm going to be diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer that will need immediate chemo and will cause me to lose the twins and possibly my own life. I need to breathe and take this one step at a time, and stop trying to play doctor with myself using the Internet. This is not the first time I've worried myslef sick over something I read on the Internet. I've been convinced before that I knew my diagnosis before a doctor saw me, and I was wrong.

But why, oh why, does my stupid breast have to be acting up in a weird way? Why can't some of this be easy? I finally feel pregnant--I'm showing more and more--and instead of enjoying it I'm just worrying all the time. And I do have other minor things to be worried about. My urine test showed that I have Group B Strep, which is very dangerous for babies during delivery, so I'll need to go on antibiotics when I go into labor. Swell. I also have a cough that mysteriously comes and goes, and of course there's a crazy part of my brain that's convinced the cough is a sign that the breast cancer has already spread to my lungs.

This year has been so stressful, and filled with so many highs and lows, that I just want to check out mentally for awhile and regroup. Some good news is that I had my thesis defense and passed. That was a huge burden taken off my shoulders, and I'm happy that it's over.

Not much more to say. Next week will be action packed, between the OB on Monday and the peri on Wednesday. Supposedly we will get a VHS tape of the babies. I hope I can start to relax enough to enjoy it. Didn't I say I would stop stressing by Thanksgiving? It's always something.

Thank you for your thoughts and prayers--I'm going to take up some more praying with all my free time now that my thesis is finished. I figure praying has to be more helpful that spending hours obsessing over what might be wrong.

Seriously Scared

2006-11-15T07:39:00.000-08:00

I've spent the last week thinking that nothing was really wrong with my breast--it's just a little red and larger than my left side. The ultrasound showed nothing and the breast specialist didn't think I needed a mammogram, saying it's too risky with the pregnancy. She said although it looks a little infected, there's no real evidence of infection. Then I suddenly read this last night, after hearing about it on the evening news.

I had never heard of inflammatory breast cancer. The most deadly kind that can't be detected by ultrasound or mammogram and often is thought to be an infection. There is no lump associated with this cancer. I was already starting to panick a little.

Then I called my dad, who was on the phone with my aunt. Evidently my cousin, the one with twins, had just had a biopsy done for inflammatory breast cancer that day. They're pretty sure she has it. Symptoms--a rash on her breast that looks infected but isn't.

Oh my God.

I have my next doctor appointment on Monday, so I guess we'll see where to go from there. The only way to diagnose is through a biopsy. The thing is--I don't know what I will do if they confirm cancer. My primary concern is for the twins. I'd rather wait until I've had them before seeking treatment. But with this type of cancer, waiting that long might be too late, for all of us.

Please God don't let this be happening.

Follow Ups

2006-11-09T05:40:00.000-08:00

I’m 11 weeks and 3 days. It feels like it’s been an eternity of waiting to feel “safe” in this pregnancy. This week H and I started telling close friends the news, and H has told all his colleagues. He was so excited about telling people, it was sweet. Today I have a meeting with my manager (who just returned from her maternity leave) and I plan on telling her the news for planning purposes. It’s earlier than I’d like, but I’m showing already. I guess the fact that I’m small combined with the twin factor will do that. This week I finally started feeling comfortable that this pregnancy might actually stick. And then I read Motel Manager’s post about her friend’s baby, whose heartbeat stopped at 10 weeks. It makes me want to crawl into a hole and not come out.

My next ultrasound is in a little less than two weeks (right before Thanksgiving), so now I’m questioning whether I should see the babies again before telling more people. Anything can happen in two weeks. But if I lost these babies now, it’s not like I could pretend it never happened...like they never existed. So I think I will proceed, with very cautious optimism, and allow myself to feel good about this whole thing. With a huge heap of worry on the side.

I saw the breast specialist Monday, and she only did an ultrasound, saying she would never do a mammogram on a pregnant woman unless she really had a good reason. She wasn’t concerned so much about the right side being larger than the left since they’ve always been that way, but she was concerned about the mysterious redness I have on the right side. She and the tech spent a really long time scanning my breast—a disturbing long time in which they said nothing, thereby freaking me out even more. Ultimately though, they said they saw absolutely nothing that would make them want to do a mammogram right now. They said the redness would normally be a symptom of infection, but they found no evidence of infection. It’s not sore, so they just said to keep an eye on it and let them know if it does suddenly start to hurt. I felt relieved, sort of.

Following up from the weekend, we haven’t heard from H’s parents at all. I really appreciate the supportive comments from everyone--everything that happened was so draining. On Sunday, going home, I felt pretty good about how we had handled things. I felt like we put it all out there, so now if they continue to hurt us they will have no excuse whatsoever and we can pull away from them without feeling guilty. H was still handling it pretty hard though, and he was depressed about it a lot this week. He was going on about how he hates his parents, and I was actually the one to say--don’t say that. I figure they get this last chance and then that’s it. I’ll never be crazy about his family or totally forget all of this, but for the sake of H and our kids I do want things to work out. We’re never going to be that close with them--they’ve violated our trust too many times now--but I at least want to be able to visit with them without dreading every moment.

I’m trying really, really hard to stop letting other people get to me so much, between the in-laws and my sister/parent situation. I just want to enjoy this time for what it is, H and I preparing to welcome two new members to our family. I got more joint-shower vibes from my mom but chose to let it go. Turns out my one close friend who knows about our treatment wants to throw my shower--she randomly brought it up to me yesterday and she doesn’t even know about my sister’s pregnancy and my whole joint shower meltdown. Problem solved. H gets to deal with telling my mom. She’ll put up a fuss for sure, but it’s not her decision. Seriously, I need to stop worrying about these little things and what everybody else thinks and wants to do.

Part Two

2006-11-07T10:48:00.000-08:00

Now for Part 2 of my awful weekend...

I had to take a break from relaying everything at once because it really is upsetting. Your reactions/comments make me feel a lot better—H and I keep asking ourselves how things with his parents could really be this bad. We just don’t get it. My ultimate conclusion is that MIL and FIL simply do not listen to us or hear our pain at all. They only hear what they want to hear. I’d blame it on the distance, but the reality is that I only see my parents in person a little bit more than his parents see us. In fact, we’ve only seen both sets of parents once since our news. It comes down to H’s parents just not listening to what we keep telling them.

Okay, so...for the rest of Saturday H’s dad was very quiet—not his usual boisterous (loud/rude) self at all. He did make a demeaning comment to H’s brother at dinner, though, and H totally jumped on him for it. (Basically, BIL was saying how he currently has a 4.0 GPA in the new program he has started, and FIL spoke up that he only got that because one of his professors graded his B on a curve. H spoke up that an A is an A, no matter what it was before the curve.) After that, H left dinner a little early to go upstairs and take a nap. I wanted to go with him, but worried that they would start talking about us if I did, so I stayed. H had been working late all week, so I knew he was tired. Nothing bad happened at dinner and conversation was about normal stuff, so I started to feel a tiny bit bad that H’s dad was so withdrawn because we yelled at him. (But really—it was his own mess and we shouldn’t feel bad for correcting him. After all, he’d been hurting us repeatedly without any sign of remorse.) Any feelings of guilt I had went away when I finally went upstairs to check on H. He wasn’t asleep at all- he was just taking the time to be a wreck, full-on Emmie style. I felt so very bad for him. He talked about how he couldn’t believe he was related to his family, how he hated being there, and how he just wanted to go home. He said he hated that his family was also putting me through all of this and stressing me out during a time I should not be so stressed.

I had kinda expected H’s parents to have taken a moment to regroup together before/after the dinner and apologize or at least talk to H, but they never did. I did see them talking together looking somber before we went to bed, but nothing came of it. So H felt he still needed to spell things out for his mom, and I agreed, since there was no guarantee that H’s dad would share what we had said to him. H’s dad hates to be corrected, so I’m sure telling MIL that we had chewed him out wasn’t on the top of his to-do list. H said he would talk to his mom early the next morning (both of them always get up before everyone else in the house and have coffee). I asked him if he wanted me there, but neither of us really wanted a group discussion.

Well, I tossed and turned about it all night. Ultimately, I decided in the middle of the night that H had done enough talking to his parents and that I should make the next move to take some of the pressure off of him. I also felt that maybe his mom would take it more seriously if I spoke up, since I’m not the type to have heart-to-heart talks with her. I decided I would be calm about it and just be really honest about how our feelings were being affected by her and FIL’s actions.

I crept out of bed super early when I heard MIL get up. She seemed a little surprised, so I just sat down and launched into the fact that I wanted to talk to her privately because there are some things going on that are really hurting H (and me) that she and FIL need to know about. I had her full attention. I said, I’m sure you must know that FIL really upset us yesterday when we were telling J about the pregnancy. She looked surprised and said, “No? Why? What did he say?” I was shocked she had no clue, but I reminded her of how FIL cut me off when I mentioned twins in my family, saying that wasn’t the reason I was having twins. I told her that H and I were completely shocked and hurt that he would say that when H had made it clear several times to them that our treatment was not to be discussed with anyone. I got a big "Oh" in response. Then she tried to defend herself and FIL, saying it must have been a misunderstanding because they thought we just didn’t want them talking about the pregnancy before we were ready to (which was a stupid thing to say, since they also did that anyway.) This was a flat out lie, because H had all three of the conversations with his parents about their lack of discretion before we even had the procedure done. I reminded her about how she had told the one brother about our IF and how he had called H on his birthday and asked him about his fertility problems right with a high school friend sitting next to him. Another “Oh.”

I decided to let her slide on a “misunderstanding” (since calling her a liar probably wouldn't work with my calm tactic), saying, well, now you know without a doubt that it is the fertility treatments we do not want being discussed, ever, so please talk to anyone you told and explain to them that this is a private matter that should not have been shared. She then questioned why, since fertility treatments are so common these days, and that it was no big deal that I had a blocked tube. I calmly replied with tears starting to fall that she had no idea how painful the whole diagnosis and process had been for me and H, and that we cannot bear to have constant reminders about it. I said we are grateful for the technology, but we need to move on and heal. We can’t do that if we’re constantly being reminded about it, especially through unnecessary remarks like the one FIL made at dinner.

Then I addressed the tube thing, since she never acknowledges the fact that MFI was the main factor in our need for IVF/ICSI and she seems to keep putting blame on me. I said "I can have kids unassisted with one tube, but H cannot have kids without IVF, period. It is our problem together, but you need to understand how this is especially painful for H and obviously not something he wants to spell out to people." Again, it was an “Oh.” I told her, "given H’s medical problem in this, you also need to understand that he was 100% against IVF (and I didn’t even get into ICSI which he needed and was even more against), and he hated the fact that he was 90% of the problem while I had to endure 100% of the very invasive procedures/treatment." I said that H has strong moral objections to what we had to do to get pregnant, and I had to be the one to ask him to compromise those values for the sake of us as a family. I told her that doing that was extremely hard, because I respect his beliefs and felt awful asking him to bend them. I told her it took me a long time to help him come to terms with the treatment we needed and to agree to it. (I really wanted her to know that without my willingness to do this, she wouldn’t be expecting these two grandkids right now.) I told her that while it is against my religion to do IVF, I had to think hard about my own beliefs in order to come to the conclusion that God has given these treatments for a reason, and that’s what got me through it. I said even though H is not a practicing Catholic like me, his beliefs are actually very strongly aligned with the church’s beliefs on all this. Considering this, I told her that it was especially important that she and FIL stop discussing our treatments because they are a very open wound for us and one that will never heal. Considering H had many reservations about treatment in the first place, he does not need a constant reminder of them. I told her that if this round had not worked, H did not want to try a second time.

Well, this all just flabbergasted her. She said, “I don’t know where he got these beliefs from! His father and I don’t believe there is anything wrong with IVF! Why does he feel this way? Maybe he was just concerned with you violating your religion.” I had to laugh at that last part and said oh, no--my own religious beliefs were not the issue at all in this matter. I said, these are H’s beliefs, pure and simple, and they should be respected.

She still questioned why he had a problem with IVF, so I explained that he believes in leaving the creation of life to nature and if he is not capable of having kids naturally, there is a reason for it that he should not try to get around. I explained to her that fertility treatments don’t actually treat the root problem; they simply allow you to work around it. She still seemed baffled by H’s beliefs and there was really nothing more I could say. She tried to appeal to the fact that I’m more open in talking about it/accepting, and I said--not really. I’m just telling you all this so you understand and we never have to discuss this again. I said we both have decided as a couple that no one is to discuss this, and we would not have told them if we had to do this again and if we had known they would tell people. I told her how H was extremely upset the day before to the point of wanting to leave, and I told her that this needed to be taken very seriously for the sake of her and FIL’s relationship with H. I said if this continues, it will pull you and H apart.

Then I gave her some simple rules to prevent any further “misunderstandings.”

1. If someone asks if we did fertility treatments when they find out we are having twins, your response is simply--twins run in her family.

2. You must explain to H’s brothers and anyone else you told not to ever discuss our treatments, in front of us or with other people, because you shouldn't have told them in the first place. And just because we’re not around doesn’t make it okay to talk about it.

3. No one is to ever tell or insinuate to our kids that we used IVF. How, when, and if we tell them is entirely up to us, and we will not tolerate anyone forcing us into telling them because of an unnecessary remark.

I received an okay to all three of these items, so there was nothing more to say. MIL said that she did want to be able to talk to H about all of this and at least apologize. I said that apologizing and telling him you understand would be very helpful. She still seemed to indicate that she wanted to talk to him about why he had the feelings he did, and I told her that I wouldn’t push him in discussing those things--that’s why I had chosen to have this conversation with her—so that he didn’t have to. I said you need to understand that he had a hard time talking about this even with me, and the reason he hasn’t told you before in such detail is because he can’t without becoming extremely upset. I told her she should respect how he feels and just forget we ever had treatment going forward.

Then we talked about other stuff, giving my slow, leaky tears time to dry before H came down to join us for breakfast. I do think his mom was truly concerned by what I said, and she seemed very sympathetic to how difficult it was for me to say it. I’d like to think she will thank me for having the guts to do it. But who knows.

I told H the whole thing when we had a moment alone, and he was very grateful for what I had done but was also disturbed by some of her reactions to what I said. He’s worried that most of what I said was wasted breathe, because she can’t get past the fact that anyone would have different feelings about this than her and FIL. He’s afraid she will ultimately think we are just too sensitive (something she has said in the past about other rude stuff they’ve done.) He’s also afraid she will wake up the next day and think, “who does that Emmie think she is for talking to me like that about my son? If he felt that way, I would know.” He might be right. But for now I know I did the right, mature thing--the only thing that could be done to try to salvage this relationship. Time will tell if it had an impact.

What a Weekend, Part One

2006-11-06T10:08:00.000-08:00

Some people do not deserve the benefit of the doubt. My in-laws are two of them. As you know, H and I have been struggling with how to deal with his family in preparation for this past weekend—our first visit in which we were to officially share our good news with his entire family, including aunts, cousins, etc. Now, H has told his parents no less than THREE times that our fertility treatments are private information that he does not want them to share. Despite this, the news continues to leak from his parents so that every time we get a call from one of his brothers, they bring it up to him unprompted. Each time this happens, it sends us reeling.

H didn’t want to upset his mom by confronting her one last time before our big visit. We had talked about it all week. First he wanted to call and remind her of our feelings on the subject, so that there would be absolutely no unexpected and unwanted remarks when we talked about the twins at dinner. But since talking hadn’t worked in the past, he decided maybe he would write her a letter explaining how we felt about it. Well, ultimately he decided to give his parents the benefit of the doubt. Because they are his parents, I wanted to believe they wouldn’t ruin this occasion for him (and me), so I went along with this plan. After all, he told them on three separate occasions to stop talking about it. Wouldn’t they have the decency and common sense not to talk about our fertility issues or treatment in front of extended family over the weekend?

The answer is no. We were not in the door five minutes when his dad managed to allude to our treatment, in a rude and unnecessary way, in front of Steve’s younger cousin and his girlfriend.

Basically, we came in and were the first to arrive. We were talking in the kitchen to H’s mom when his cousin J and girlfriend arrived and sat down at the table. We started talking about the drive up and stuff, when H’s dad entered the room. He greeted us and immediately said something about the pregnancy (even though we were waiting until dinner to “announce” it.) J and the cousin looked very taken aback and laughed, saying they would “act surprised” when we told the rest of the family after his dad realized they didn’t know yet. So, that launched me into telling J and his girlfriend that we are 11 weeks along with twins, and rapidly saying how excited are since my mom is a twin and they’re due on her birthday…

I hadn’t finished my sentence about the twins being born on my twin mom’s birthday, when H’s dad says—“well, that’s not the reason you two are having twins!” I paused, looked up at him with saucer eyes, and said in my most disdainful voice—“Uuhh, yeah, um ANYWAY and continued blathering about how my mom’s twin brother was hoping to come home from Chicago for their 60th birthday and to meet the new babies. H’s dad did not pick up on the hot anger radiating from me and H at all. H and I kept exchanging looks and I knew I had to say something to his dad before the weekend continued in this matter.

So I waited a few minutes for the subject to change to something else. H’s mom was talking to J about whether his sister was coming to dinner late. I caught FIL’s attention and motioned for him to come with me to another room because I had a gift for him (I actually did). I tried to be subtle, but surely everyone had to notice us leave. As I got up the stairs to FIL’s office and started to tell him about the gift (figured I would move into my confrontation afterwards), H entered the room, shutting the door behind him, and said “Dad, what the F…?!?” My first reaction was “H!” because he never curses like that to his parents, but then we both lit into FIL for what he had said.

We told him how upset it made us that he would make a rude comment like that when I was clearly avoiding the infertility subject when announcing the pregnancy to people. We told him we didn’t understand his need to cut me off and say something like that, especially after we repeatedly asked him and MIL to keep our treatments private. FIL responded that he must have misunderstood us--he didn’t realize we didn’t want to talk about it. What the ?!?! This led to me and H both raising our voices at him about how H had made this clear and at this point our assumption is that he and MIL just don’t respect our feelings at all. He muttered some "I'm so sorrys" in a pathetic, quiet way, head down like a child being lectured, but I couldn’t feel too bad about what we were saying to him. Obviously talking about it calmly had not gotten the point across. Then he tried to justify his talking about it saying—“But it’s just such a miracle what science can do and the fact that it worked is so great.” I said yes—it is great that it worked and we thank God every day for the technology, but that doesn’t mean we need the whole world to know. H chimed in with how painful the whole experience had been, and that if his dad felt our pain he would understand why we need to move on and stop being reminded of it. Well, to this FIL says that his colleague Mr. S. who did IVF, is very open about it and so he didn’t expect us not to be. H blew up at this, reminding his dad that Mr. S. was 50 when he did IVF as a result of wanting to have more children with a second wife after he had done a vasectomy with a first wife. He reminded FIL—“IVF was Mr. S’s choice and he already had kids so it wasn’t the same situation.” Then H lost it completely emotionally and said—“don’t you get how this was not our choice and we had a really hard time coming to terms with it?” With H unable to speak further, I said—“Look at what this is doing to your son! Why can’t you just forget we ever had treatment and just move on? Why did you have to ruin today for us, supposedly a happy time, by throwing our treatment in our face in front of people who didn’t need to know?” I told him that I didn’t understand why he and MIL and the brothers couldn’t keep this private when my parents had respected our wishes without question.

So then I saw an ugly side to FIL that I’ve never seen before, as he usually comes across as a harmless, bumbling Homer-Simpson type of overweight buffoon. He glared at me and said in a mean voice that he wasn’t trying to throw anything in my face and that I’m just closer to my parents.

I said—“that’s not true; the difference is my parents respect my feelings about this. And regardless, we’re telling you now once and for all to stop bringing up our treatment, tell everyone you’ve told about it that you shouldn’t have, and never say anything about it again.” I added the threat, “If someone ever says something in front of our children about our treatment, that person will never see the children again.”

He seemed to nod but kept muttering how it was just so good that things had worked out that he didn’t understand.

At this point, H, still struggling to regain his composure, asked me to go get our coats so we could take a walk and calm down before dinner started. I went out, right where MIL, J, and girlfriend could see me, got our coats, and we left out a back door where H didn’t have to be seen. I have no idea what FIL said when he re-entered the room with the others. As we went outside, H’s aunt and his other cousin M were getting out of the car. Talk about awkward. We just said hello and that we were taking a quick walk because it had been a long drive. We didn’t mention the pregnancy of course--still thinking we would wait for dinner (and to calm down!), but of course upon re-entering the house MIL had already told them, too. Can't these people keep their mouths shut?!? (Especially given the fact that we had just said we would wait until dinner to tell the others after J found out.) Since we weren’t there when she told them it was twins, who knows what was said about that. I would’ve thought MIL had a clue that we were yelling at FIL for what he had done, but evidently she was clueless. This will be explained in part two, to be uploaded later tonight…

A Reminder of What IF Has Done to Me

2006-11-02T17:55:00.000-08:00

I am a wreck right now...read this self-pitying post only if you are in the mood to stomach it.

I've been trying my very best to keep my chin up about my sister's natural pregnancy and her treatment of it. I like my sister a lot these days. I haven't always. In fact, I pretty much despised her until we were both married. She has always known how to hit a nerve in me that sends me to my absolute darkest. It hasn't helped that my parents treat her so much better than they treat me.

Well, she's not doing it on purpose right now, but she is the reason for my meltdown. She is exactly 2 and a half weeks behind me, and she has now told EVERYONE we know that she is pregnant. At first she told me she was just going to tell immediate family when she told me at 5 weeks, but turns out, she told all her friends at 5 weeks 1 day. Now, she's a little more than 7 weeks, and everyone knows. And just about no one knows about my pregnancy. So considering I'm ahead of her and doing the first trimester wait, I feel like this is bullshit. Especially when she knows how scared I am yet eager to tell people. When I DO tell family and friends, I feel like the fact that she told weeks ago will just further emphasize that all was not business as usual with my pregnancy.

But this isn't even why I'm so upset right now. I'm upset because she said the words "joint baby shower" to me tonight, implying that that was what my mom was planning to host for us. No effin way. This may be petty and selfish and something my friends cycling right now don't need to hear me whine about, but WHAT THE HELL? Why can't I have a moment of my own, especially after all the suffering H and I went through to get here? Why can't my mom and sister be sensitive to that? They're just thinking about what will be convenient for them. I think it's ridiculous. I have tons of friends. I can only hope one of them will hear of this from someone and step up to stop it. What a pathetic jerk I'm being, but I can't help it. My family never puts my feelings first. Ever. Never have. It's always been about my sister. When my sister first found out I was pregnant, one of the first things she said was how she couldn't wait to throw me a shower. Well, now with her pregnancy, obviously she'd rather just leave it up to my mom. And my mom will throw the same kind of gathering for me that she always throws--one that is all about what she wants. Which means at her house, even though she's an hour and a half away from me, my friends, and the entire rest of our family. And we'll have the deli lunch meat platter that she always gets, even though pregnant people can't eat that (my sister tells me how she's been eating lunch meat and it's just fine. Fool won't listen to me). It goes on and on. Just a reminder that I have some serious family issues. For as much as I complain about H's family, mine has been pretty crappy to me in the past too. I just haven't put it all out there because I feel so guilty. But why? They never seem to feel guilty for hurting me. Oh, I need therapy fast...

Is it ridiculous to be this upset about a shower at just shy of 11 weeks? Absolutely. I'm a nut case. Something could go wrong tomorrow and I'll be wishing to have the chance back to have the joint shower at all. But I just needed to come here and indulge my hurt feelings for a bit.

When I spoke my loud protest to a joint shower and even a mom-hosted shower, my sister just clammed up and got off the phone with me pretty fast afterwards. This is obviously not something she's going to back me on. Considering my twins will likely come early (like May 1) and she's not due until June 15, I don't see how a joint shower even makes sense logistically. I'll either be so far along that I won't be able to make the trip or my sister will have a long way yet to go when we have it. I had intended on hosting my sister's shower at my house as long as I didn't need bed rest. I guess that's not up to me if mom is taking over.

If it weren't for IF, I'd have already been through a pregnancy and wouldn't have this ultimate test of sibling rivalry to even deal with. I wouldn't be so apprehensive. I wouldn't be so needy. I just feel like my feelings have been stepped on too much.

Off to dry my tears before H gets home. Not sure how he'll react to this one. He'll probably call me crazy. But he knows what my family does to me, so maybe he'll understand. I hope you do too. If not, my chin will be back up tomorrow and I'll just keep focus on the most important thing--the babies. Who cares if I even have a shower, right? The babies are what matter. Maybe I'll just say I don't want a shower at all.

Odds and Ends

2006-11-02T12:16:00.000-08:00

So at Monday’s appointment, the peri doctor noted that my placenta was very low right now, but it would probably resolve itself. However, he said he wouldn’t be surprised if I saw some light bleeding. Yikes. Bleeding would terrify me even if it was normal. After my pap smear on Tuesday, my OB told me to expect some spotting, and I had like one, faint brown spot that didn’t even look like blood, so I was fine. Now I’m wondering what might set off bleeding, and of course s.e.x. comes to mind. Poor H, I’m already not in the mood much if ever, and if action is going to cause bleeding I want even less to do with it. H understands, but I do feel bad. I have had zero desire ever since transfer. Anybody else going through this? It hasn’t been a complete dry spell, but it really takes some doing to get me to participate.

My peri said I should enjoy my physical state as much as possible right now because as I get bigger I probably will be pretty limited. Both he and the OB predict bed rest in my future because I’m small. I’m trying to do normal things, but between feeling extremely tired, bad indigestion, and strong food aversions, it’s hard to enjoy a nice dinner with H or any after activity. I feel good overall and am not complaining, but I definitely feel like “enjoying the old me” ended with my last glass of wine over a heavy meal the night before my first Lupr*n shot. I imagine old me might not return for a year or two.

My belly is definitely starting to stick out some, and depending on the clothes I wear you can tell. I’ve been hiding it from the outside world, but at home I like to flaunt it for H. He’s been appropriately impressed. Bye-bye flat tummy! I can’t even suck it in a little, and my ribs are disappearing. Hooray! My flat stomach was my pride and joy for a long time, and two years ago when H and I took a trip to Bermuda I had him take a bunch of bikini pictures of me to bid it fond farewell. I do not expect to see it again, and that’s just fine with me. Even though I plan to work out hard after the babies are born in order to return to my normal clothes (or a size up…), I can’t imagine my tummy will over look that way again after twins. I will wear my pooch with pride.

The Good, the Bad, and the Lopsided

2006-11-01T07:28:00.000-08:00

First the good news--both babies are fine. Excellent, really. We saw the peri on Monday and had a super ultrasound. There they were, actually looking like little babies instead of blobs at 10 weeks. It’s amazing how much more form they had in just two weeks. We got a whole roll of pictures, including two of those 3-D color ones that I find creepy. H is going to put them on his desk at work. I’m a little embarrassed that we now have enough pictures of these little guys for an entire album! When you get a 3-D picture of both twins at once, it always seems to me that one looks like a baby and the other looks like squished play-doh. Luckily the doc took individual shots as well as group photos so I have evidence that I do have two babies and not a ball of play-doh.

The best part of the visit was that we saw both babies dancing...a lot. They were really shakin’ it. It was so funny we were both in tears. It kinda reminded me of the dancing baby from Ally McBe_al, only, not as scary. After my appointment, we drove to my campus and dropped off my thesis. All in all, a very good day.

On Tuesday, I had my appointment with the new OB practice. It was a long, invasive visit, complete with pap smear, blood draws, and urine taking, but I expected that and I really like everyone I met at the practice. Much improved over the last one. The doctor was very nice and answered all my questions.

So the bad news is that when she examined me she was very concerned that my right breast is much larger and different looking than my left one. It also has some redness that has developed over the past 2 weeks. Now, I've always been a little lopsided and was told it was normal, and after transfer both sides grew a good deal. The right started really taking off though and left the left in the dust. Since my mom had breast cancer (she’s recovered), the doctor said she wants me to have a mammogram done at a special breast center. She said that the size and redness may just be from the hormones (I will finally quit prometrium this Friday) but she doesn’t want to take any chances, especially since the left side didn’t react the same way. She said it was probably nothing, but she said the word “concerned” many more times than “probably nothing.”

I had noticed the difference between the two, but I just thought my left side was being slow in catching up, as always. Now I’m a little freaked out. My appointment is next week, so at least I don’t have to wait long. I just want to be okay for my two little dancers.

As far as the MIL and relative issue, I'll post more later. I appreciate all the feedback and suggestions. I'll let you know our plan...

Attack of the Rude Relatives

2006-10-30T06:38:00.000-08:00

I’ve been on hold for the past 20 minutes waiting to cancel my appointment with my old OB/Gyn practice. Crazy. I finally figured I would see how long of a post I could write before they get to my call.

My thesis is done and I’m going to distribute the copies to my committee tonight! Oddly, I don’t feel much better yet. H says I won’t feel relief until the defense is over and I have the diploma. He’s probably right. I was just hoping for some sense of calm to wash over me.

My agitated state could have a little something to do with H’s family, bringing us to the title of this post. I’ve deleted my previous posts on how awful they are because I felt guilty, but they are at it again and I must discuss. To recap, H’s mom has evidently told everyone about our need to do IVF, despite our clear instructions that this was private information and not to be shared. The ONLY reason we even told her and H’s dad is because they wouldn’t let up on us not being able to attend family events that were occurring during our retrieval and transfer. We also wanted them to know so that they would stop asking rudely framed questions about when we would have kids.

Well, after H got a phone call from his Lame Brother #1 (LB1) in which the brother brought up IF in front of a high school friend, H gave his mom a real talking to about her indiscretion and now the brother’s indiscretion. She was shocked to be yelled at over it but seemed sorry. So sorry, in fact, that she promised H that she would wait for him to announce our pregnancy at our next family gathering rather than telling his brothers or anyone else in advance.

Well, Lame Brother #2 (LB2) called yesterday, and he brought up to H that not only does he know about the pregnancy, he knows about the IF and he knows we are having twins. His sorta congratulations included all of this in the same sentence. His comment to H was "Man, I didn’t even know you guys were trying." Hmm, so why did H's mom feel the need to spill everything then??? Now, H’s mom had sworn to H that she had only told LB1 about the IF, her weak excuse being that LB1 is a doctor (chiropractor). Yes, I’ll take a back adjustment to fix my sperm issues from Mr. Faux Doc. Well, clearly she either lied to H from the beginning and had already told everyone about our IF, or, when she decided to announce our pregnancy without us anyway and told about the twins, she answered LB2’s likely question as to whether IF drugs were involved.

Needless to say, I’m pissed. Let’s say she simply told about the twins and then was faced with the “did they use IF drugs?” question. Knowing we DO NOT want our IF to be discussed, ALL she had to say was— "well, Emmie’s mom is a twin and remember her cousins who were flower girls in her wedding are twins…I guess twins run in the family." But nooooo.

So, my real chest pain right now is over the fact that we have to visit H’s family this very weekend--the weekend we agreed we would tell everyone about the pregnancy even though it’s still a few weeks early for my taste. Well, they all already know, and so help me if I get any questions about IF or our treatment. I will go OFF. And when my buttons are pushed to the limit like they are now, I am a force they will not want to reckon with in any way.

H was really mad too, both at his brother for his callous discussion about our pregnancy and his mom for blatantly ignoring his wishes. He said he’s going to talk to her again about it this week before we go up. He said if she ever blurts out anything about our kids’ conception in front of them, he will never see her again. We haven’t decided how or when or even what we are going to tell our kids, and we do not want to be forced into something just because H’s mom doesn’t have a bone of sense in her body. I’m just ready to light into her the moment I see her, which I know is bad for the babies. I’m trying to calm down about it, but I really can’t. I’m tense about the questions that might smack me out of nowhere from H’s aunt and cousins. (I’m pretty sure H’s mom has told them, too). I’ve been thinking of proper responses for when they say—"twins???—what type of treatment did you have?" Part of me wants a good dignified answer that lets them know I find it an inappropriate question and none of their GD business, and part of me wants to slide on--"don’t you remember how many twins there are in my family?"

Another possible response to "did you do IVF" is--"Wow, I guess times have really changed. When my cousin announced her twin pregnancy 10 years ago, NOBODY in my family even thought to ask her that question. And they didn’t even have IVF when my grandmother had twins. But now people won’t stop asking me that question! (in my sweetest voice, of course) Think that would shut them up?

Your help please--how would you handle H’s mom this weekend, and what are your best responses to the uncomfortable questions I might get? Being out about IF is not an option because I feel like it’s an even further invasion of my privacy. I’m happy to share the info and true facts with people I think need it, but not nosy relatives.