Where did I leave off? Oh right, it was Tuesday, May 22nd and I was all kinds of miserable waiting for my scheduled c-section at 5:30am on Friday, May 25th. I had been to see my OB the day before and, in sharp contrast to my unwavering “every second inside matters” mantra up to that point, I was ready to get the boys out ASAP by whatever means necessary. My OB’s hands were tied by hospital policy so I was left counting down each second of the four days until she could put me out of my misery.
Thursday, May 24th was my mom’s birthday and my brother came into town early that morning. He’d booked his flights far in advance with the idea the boys would be a couple of weeks old when he came. It never crossed my mind they wouldn’t even be born by the time he arrived. In order for me to get as much rest as possible prior to surgery, my mom planned to take E to their condo for a sleepover on Wednesday night, and then she, my dad, and my brother would spend all day with him Thursday before bringing him back to our house in the evening for a take-out birthday dinner.
I “woke up” that morning (not that I was sleeping much at that point) and discovered that I was starting to lose my mucus plug. I didn’t think much of it since it took days from that point to delivery with E, except to feel grateful that my body was starting the ball rolling, so my planned eviction the following morning wasn’t completely out of sync with the natural course of events. I was having contractions, but they were no stronger or more regular than those I’d been having for the past couple of months. My BFF In Loco Parentis came for a visit mid-day. She brought me lunch and marveled at my amazing feat of water retention. Other than that, I pretty much just lounged around and tried to rest as much as I could.
At 5:41pm, my mom sent a text asking if I still felt up to dinner or if they should just keep E and go out without us. I texted back the following: “Have been feeling pretty good all day. Lousy last hour or so, but it may pass. I think dinner would be good. I’d like to see everyone. If still feeling bad when you get here, we can always revise plan.” It turns out that “lousy” feeling was actually early labor. (Side note: How glad am I we texted this convo instead of talking over the phone? I would never have remembered the timing and specifics of all of this, but now I have this great little time capsule to remind me.)
M got home from work at 6pm and I got up to open the door so our dog could run out and greet her. As I crossed the four feet from the couch to the door, I felt a small pop followed by a trickle of warm liquid. Denial is a funny thing. I knew immediately what it was, but almost instantly convinced myself I’d imagined it because I’d resigned myself to The Plan at that point and we were soooo close! M came in and flopped down in a chair, exhausted from a long week of tying up loose ends at work. I told her I thought my water might have broken and she gave me a look that said “you have GOT to be kidding me.” I don’t think either one of us could wrap our heads around the fact we weren’t going to get another night of sleep before we met our babies. We talked for a few minutes about how, even if my water had broken, I still might be able to make it to the c-section. It was only 12 hours away at that point. At 6:18pm I got my first contraction that was unlike any of its predecessors and I started to realize the “wait it out” plan might not work after all.
The timing of this next part is a little fuzzy for me, but at some point (6:30ish?), I called my mom who was on her way over to our house. I told her my water had broken and M and I were still coming up with our plan, but dinner was probably out. I asked her to head on to dinner without us and we’d keep her posted. A few minutes later, as it became painfully clear (literally) that we needed to head for the hospital, M and I realized we hadn’t seen E in 24 hours and weren’t going to get to for awhile longer, so we called my mom back and asked her to bring him to our house for a quick kiss before we left. It took her another 15 minutes or so to get there and we almost didn’t wait because the contractions were ramping up so quickly. According to my contraction timer (for the brief time I was collected enough to time contractions), the intervals were 11-11-9-9-6-5-5. Each contraction was lasting 1.5 to 2.5 minutes and I was already struggling to walk or talk through them. E arrived as we were making our way to the car so we got a chance to give him a squeeze and tell him we were off to get his brothers at the hospital – an event we’d been talking to him about for weeks. We got in the car a little after 7pm, I think, and it took us about 20 minutes to get to the hospital. By the time we arrived, it was taking everything I had to make it through each contraction. I wouldn’t let M drop me off so we parked in the ER lot and she gave me a white-knuckle wheelchair ride alllll the way across our large urban hospital to the pregnancy assessment unit.
Once there, they got me into a room quickly. They hooked up the monitors and did an internal exam – 4 cm. I’ve had my fair share of internals and this one was The Worst Ever. I’m not entirely sure what the problem was, but I was super-sensitive and they couldn’t find my cervix for anything. They did an ultrasound at one point and the babies’ heads were both so low and so close together, she couldn’t be certain it even was both babies and not just one of them. She finally gave up trying when I informed her I was a mandatory section so the babies position didn’t matter all that much. I can only imagine that having two heads jammed down there rearranged my internal organs somehow, but… yeowch. The internal was far worse than any contraction I’d had up to that point. It was clear things were progressing quickly, so it got pretty chaotic for a while as people scrambled to check off all the boxes on their respective checklists. I learned that my beloved OB - the one I made the difficult decision to keep even though it meant not delivering at the hospital I wanted - was not on call and the other OB in her practice would be doing the surgery. I was really disappointed and I thought about asking them to call my OB anyway, but that thought lasted a whole second and a half before another contraction hit and I realized that even if she would come in for me, there was a good chance I couldn’t hold on long enough for her to arrive. The nurse must have relayed the urgency of the situation to the OB because she came back with the message that the OB would be in the OR in 30 minutes and she wanted me there waiting for her. Cue more frenzy as we got ready to roll.
They peeled M off at the OR door to change into scrubs and then pushed me through the double doors. I felt like I’d rolled onto a set of a TV hospital drama. People were running everywhere, turning on machines and shouting at each other. Different people popped their faces into mine and asked me for information before darting off to finish their assigned tasks. Every few minutes, they’d stop and do a “check” where the head nurse would read off all my information and everyone in the room had to agree they were in the right place. A nurse took my nose ring and other jewelry and put it in a plastic bag (never to be seen again). The fleet of pediatric residents nominated a leader to come over and introduce himself, explain their strategy once the babies came out, and see if I had any questions. The anesthesiologist took a quick medical history. Various other people asked me to turn this way or that, describe something I was feeling, or recite my name and D.O.B. for the umpteenth time. Most of these questions were asked on top of one another (as well as my contractions) so it was quite the feat to hear and respond to each as it was asked. There must have been a dozen people in the room, maybe more? The OB was there and was trying to hurry things along, but the anesthesiologist decided it was take your intern to work day, and it took forever for her nervous trainee to get my epidural placed. They kept asking me if it felt centered and telling me it was really important that I answer accurately, and I kept thinking “How the hell am I supposed to know?! You think I can feel whether the needle in my back is off-center by a millimeter in the midst of all of this? You’re the ones looking at it!” I just remember sitting on the edge of the table, hugging a pillow, having contraction on top of contraction on top of contraction, thinking they’d never get it in. With each contraction, the OB would yell “K, whatever you do, DO NOT PUSH. Don’t push, K. Don’t push!” At one point I heard a nurse ask wasn’t I just 4cm? The OB replied “No, she went from zero to four in no time at all. She’s way past that now. Just look at her.” I actually don’t think I was fully dilated as I wasn’t feeling an urge to push just yet, but looking back on what she said and how I was feeling at that point, I’m pretty sure I was in transition.
They FINALLY got the epidural in and properly dosed, then M arrived to sit by my head and the surgery started. It can’t have been more than a minute or two before we heard the OB say “I need a catch team for Baby A,” and then we heard the high-pitched squeal we’d come to know as C’s signature cry. A team of doctors and nurses took him to the first warmer and one minute later, we heard G’s deeper, throatier cry as he was brought out into the world. I could hear them in the warmers, their two very distinct cries echoing through the OR, and it hit me: We have TWO babies. They were born at 9:01 and 9:02pm, just three hours after my first hint of labor.
M went to the babies right away and snapped a couple of pictures which she brought back to show me as the OB finished delivering the placentas and began stitching me up. They announced the babies APGARs (8 then 9 for both babies) and most of the doctors and nurses left the room. M said that once they realized how big and healthy the babies were, the mood in the peds’ corner completely shifted. They started laughing, taking bets on how much the babies would weigh, and commenting happily about the babies’ features and actions. The drugs were making me queasy and a little loopy, but I could hear the light tones in their voices and it was such a relief to know all was well. The babies weighed in at 6lbs, 10oz (C) and 6lbs, 11oz (G) – a far cry from the full pound difference they predicted on ultrasound that caused my OB to veto my plans for a VBAC.
Once in recovery, M brought each baby over to me to see and hold. We were both in total shock that they were here. They weren’t supposed to come until the next morning! The nurse came in to check on us and laughed about how crazy everything had been. She said she was working on another part of the floor when someone told her to get to the OR immediately, and she’d run there not knowing who we were or what she was walking into. It still amazes me how quickly they were able to mobilize the delivery team. We weren’t even at the hospital and hour and a half before the boys were on the outside. We called our stunned parents and texted friends. If I were to sum the whole experience up in a single word, it would be SURREAL.
This birth experience has been tremendously healing for me. As most of you know, E’s birth was fairly traumatic and I struggled for a long time to come to terms with it. I longed for the chance to have a VBAC with my second pregnancy in hopes that it would restore some of what my first experience took from me. I didn’t get my VBAC, but in my heart of hearts, I truly believe I could have done it if my OB had let me try. I know that’s easy to say since I didn’t have to prove it, and maybe I’m wrong, but based upon what I DID get to see during my short labor, I know that my body was doing exactly what it was supposed to do. My labor was progressing. My cervix was dilating. The boys were exactly where they needed to be. And all of these things were happening quickly and efficiently. That is 180 degrees from how things went with E. And that alone has soothed my scars enormously. I feel really proud of how my body handled pregnancy, and I’m proud of how it was handling birth, until the doctors took the reins. I thought I might be angry that I wasn’t allowed to try for a VBAC, especially after the ultrasound intel turned out to be total crap, but I’m not. I feel grateful to have gone into labor on my own and had the chance to feel it take over my body in such a natural, primal way, even if only for a short time.
Other than my OB not being the one to deliver the boys, it’s hard to imagine a better scenario from a timing standpoint. I wanted them to stay in as long as possible and to come out on their own schedule. When my OB set the 38 week deadline, my hope became that the boys would come on their own before that, but as close to it as possible in order to maximize their time on the inside. Well, they did pretty darn good on that front!! Less than 12 hours pre-surgery? Well played, boys. I initially hoped they’d avoid the swarm of family birthdays in May so that they could have their own special day, seeing as they’d already have to share their birthdays with one other person. In the early evening of the 24th without a labor sign in sight, I thought we’d managed to do just that. But, they ended up zooming into the world on the tail end of my mom’s birthday, and in the weeks since then, I’ve decided that’s actually kind of special.
Before learning I was pregnant with twins, there were three hopes I had for my second pregnancy: A VBAC, a baby that could stay in our room and be discharged from the hospital with us, and a more functional breastfeeding relationship. When I learned we were expecting twins, I knew all three of those things would be more difficult if not impossible to achieve. I’m going to go ahead and say we got 2.5 of those things, and 2.5 out of 3 ain’t bad.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Six weeks old!*
This just in: Life with a three-year-old and newborn twins is busy. Shocker, huh?
There is no way I can possibly recap all that has happened since C and G arrived. I'm going to try to hit the highlights though - please excuse the choppy post to follow!
Hospital time = Mostly good. After the shock of our crazy (but wonderful) birth experience wore off, we spent the next few days falling in love with our adorable new roommates. E was never in our room at the hospital and it is so different and so much cooler to have your baby right there with you!! (Another shocking news flash, I know.) My parents stayed with E and brought him to visit us each day. We had some really lovely nurses and the overall vibe was just really laid-back and blissful as M and I celebrated and bonded with our two healthy babes. My recovery was a little rougher in some ways because I had retained so much fluid and my body was in no hurry to release it. It took a whole day and several bags of IV fluid to jumpstart my kidneys to start producing urine again after my c-section and all that time, I just kept getting bigger and more uncomfortable. Also, the doctor who did my surgery (not my OB, thanks to the boys' early arrival - boo) botched one side of the repair job a bit. I guess it is technically closed now (it wasn't at my first postpartum visit), but it looks weird, like it isn't fully sealed. I'm not sure how else to describe it. Also, for the first two weeks, I had this unbearable nerve pain deep under the incision. Fun stuff. It's still sore, but nothing like it was, thank goodness. The pressure to supplement with formula started within hours of the boys' birth and we resisted it until the day before we left. We had a great pro-breastfeeding pediatrician while in the hospital who completely supported our refusal (truly, she cried with me when we finally had to supplement), but the day before we were scheduled to leave, the boys dropped down to 14% below birthweight and she explained she wasn't allowed to send them home until they at least started moving back in the right direction. My milk still wasn't in, so our only options were to leave the boys there (which assured they'd get formula since we couldn't be at the hospital for every feed once we were discharged) or start giving them formula ourselves. We opted for the latter and began following each breastfeeding session with 15-20mL of formula. The following morning, they'd lost even more weight despite the supplementation, but they let us stay in our room a few extra hours and by 4pm, the tide had turned and we were all able to go home together. Hallelujah!
First week home = Heaven! We came home on Memorial Day and M took the next day off. (Yup, that's all she could take post-hospital.) E was at school and we sat around the house all day, holding sleeping babies and basking in the glow of how seamlessly the transition was going. I know, how inappropriately smug of us. Fear not, we got our comeuppance :-) On Wednesday, we took the boys to their first weight check and to our relief, they were both still gaining. C was back up to 6lbs, 3oz. and G was 6lbs, 2oz. On Thursday, we went back to the pediatrician's office for their first doctor visit. Both boys were pronounced the picture of health. Up until then, we'd continued to supplement with formula in response to the boys' hunger cues. We talked to our pediatrician about wanting to stop this and she was supportive of us cutting the formula out cold turkey. M went back to work on Wednesday, but my mom was a huge help during the hours she was gone. The next few days were idyllic (although as I look back over my notes, I can see they weren't eating nearly often enough - still sleeping when they should have been nursing) and we even managed to have a lovely breakfast out on Sunday - our first as a family of five! We wrapped up the first week home with another weight check on Monday morning, and that is when things began to crumble...
Second week home = The higher the ladder, the longer the chute. Monday morning's weight check did not bring good news - C hadn't gained any weight, and G had lost an ounce. Uh oh. This seriously rocked my confidence, as did some signs of lethargy and weakness I'd started to notice in G. The doctor came in to talk to us and said she was not concerned. The number of wet/dirty diapers we were seeing meant the boys were getting enough to eat, and she guessed they were going to move off the weight plateau any moment. She coached me to stick with EBF and to do whatever I could to r-e-l-a-x. She reassured me over and over again that everything was fine and she'd tell me if she had any concern whatsoever. We made a plan to nursenursenurse as much as possible and bring them back Thursday for another weight check. I went home resolved to take deep breaths and make it work... but the universe had other plans. A couple of hours after returning from the weight check, and just before I was about to sit down to feed the babies, I was (TMI alert) battling some constipation (thank you, Percoset), when I had what was later diagnosed as a vasovagal response, followed immediately by a hot, pulsing headache unlike anything I've ever experienced. I honestly worried something had burst in my brain. My mom called 911 and I was taken to the ER by ambulance. I spent the next 8ish hours being drugged, CT scanned and lumbar punctured, and finally sent home with the diagnosis of postpartum migraine, which is apparently A Thing. I returned home engorged but afraid to nurse because of all the meds I'd had in the ER. The nurses assured me everything I was given was compatible with breastfeeding, but come on... Morphine? M and I looked up half lives and percentages in milk for each drug and felt we should err on the side of caution. The babies had already had several formula bottles at that point, so we decided I'd pump and dump for the next 12 hours to be safe, then start fresh at noon the following day. Oh, I nearly cried watching ounce after ounce of breastmilk go down the drain in our bathroom sink. Uggggghhhhhh. So, that was day one. Nice, huh? The next morning, we had a photographer come out to take newborn pics of the boys. They came out so wonderfully and I'm SO glad we didn't cancel her after what went down the previous day. I will post a couple on the password protected blog. She'd been gone maybe an hour when E's symptoms started to show and by the afternoon, it was clear he was not well at all. His fever stayed mostly in the 102-103 range for three full days and he clearly felt awful. I was terrified he'd pass something along to the little boys so I basically sequestered the three of us in my bedroom and only checked on E intermittently, scrubbing in and out like a surgeon for each visit. M had to work all week, so most of his sick care fell to my mom, which was a heartbreaking introduction (hazing?) to what it feels like to have more children than hands. It was agonizing not to be able to care for him when he needed me, but the babies needed me more right then. (We managed to end the week without the babies getting sick, thank goodness.) On Wednesday, I tried to meet with a lactation counselor to develop a plan to safely wean our itty bitty babies off the formula. I really didn't want their weights to dip again. The LC was out, but I had the opportunity to weigh the babies pre- and post-feed, and when it appeared that they managed to LOSE weight during the feeding, I had an epic meltdown, complete with ugly public crying. This earned me another "You Must Relax" pep talk, and a recommendation to start using this supplement, which I started that afternoon. On Thursday, E went to the pediatrician to rule out strep or hand, foot, and mouth and I had my first postpartum visit - at the same time, of course. My mom took E to his appointment and my dad drove me and the babies to mine since I was still taking Percoset and couldn't drive myself. Fun times! My headaches still had not relented so I talked my OB into giving me a couple of doses of Imi.trex by promising to follow up with my primary care doctor after that. I did just that on Friday and was encouraged to try treating the headaches with caffeine which, blessedly, has been working pretty well since then. I usually don't drink any coffee, tea or soda, so even small amounts of caffeine have been making a big difference for me. Or it's a placebo effect. I couldn't care less as long as it keeps my headaches at bay, which it has thus far. Having a debilitating headache while trying to care for newborn twins and a sick three year old is torture. On Friday of that week, we went in for another weight check and they finally gained! G was only up to 6lbs, 3oz but it was something, and C was up to 6lbs., 8oz! After their 24 hours of formula early in the week, we'd continued to supplement here and there - never more than an ounce a day per baby, but enough to make me nervous to go back to EBF without one more check that they were growing on breastmilk alone. The doctor agreed we could come in for one more weight check on Tuesday, so once again, we attempted to stop supplementing, but this time we were able to follow through. Phew! Near the end of their second week home, M's mom came into town and my parents left. I was heartsick to see them go. My mom had been such an enormous help toward the end of my pregnancy and during C and G's first two weeks of life (especially that second week home, aka hell week). Having M's mom around for a few days was great, but her stay was short, and the day where I'd need to start caring for both babies all on my own was looming nearer and nearer with each passing hour and I had NO idea how I was going to manage.
Third week home and beyond: Finding our new normal. The following Tuesday's weight check brought great news. The babies were up to 6lbs, 8oz (G) and 6lbs, 13oz (C). Both had gained 5 ounces in 4 days with no formula, so I finally had the peace of mind I needed and we've been EBFing ever since. On Wednesday morning, M's mom left at the crack of dawn and I was officially on my own. The babies were one day shy of three weeks old. *Gulp* Somehow, we all survived and since then, the pendulum seems to have come to rest on: Really freaking hard and busier than I ever could have anticipated, but manageable, and peppered with moments of such bliss and beauty that I could burst from the sheer joy that is our life. I have learned so much and I do things with the babies every day that I never would have thought possible, logistically. The learning curve is something else when you're thrown right into the deep end. We get out on our own at least once a day - sometimes for several hours of errands, sometimes just to pick E up at school - but it's something. On a couple occasions, we've stayed out through a feeding time and I've needed to nurse them, in public, on my own. At home, I tandem feed them, but when we're out, I have to do them one at a time and, somehow, keep the other baby pacified too. The first time I did it, I'll admit I felt a little like Wonder Woman. :-) We've also been doing a lot as a family on the evenings and weekends. M has been awesome about this. I'm sure she'd rather put her feet up at the end of her long workdays (HA, like we're going to be doing that anytime in the next 3-5 years!) but she knows I need to get out for my own mental health and she does what she can to make that happen. (Your efforts have not gone unnoticed, Love.) We've been having a lot of picnic dinners in parks, despite the oppressive heat, because the babies love to be outdoors and I can sit on a blanket and feed them while watching M and E play. It's been really... nice. Despite the rough start, breastfeeding is going really well. We haven't had to supplement at all in the past month and my supply seems to be keeping up with their demand. I just hope we'll have a strong enough foundation for it to stay that way once I go back to work in two short weeks. (And now, I will cease speaking of that wretched day to keep myself from vomiting.)
The babies have easy temperaments (one more so than the other, of course) and they don't have the health issues (colic, reflux) that E suffered from, so we joke that the two of them together are still easier than E was as a singleton newborn, which is NOT actually a joke because it's 100% true. They look almost nothing like each other, and yet they both look startlingly like E, which is really freaking cool for reasons long-time readers of this blog will appreciate. They were both up to 7lbs, 8oz and 21.5 inches (exactly the same size!) at their pediatrician appointment just over a week ago. They have started to outgrow preemie clothes by length and are fitting comfortably into NB and some 3mo sized clothes, as well as most of the newborn diapers in our CD stash. During the past few days, they have both become very generous with their smiles and we can consistently elicit them, which is basically the best thing to happen ever.
There are so many things I want to say; so many things I want to document here because time is racing by at breakneck speed and I know I'm going to forget so much. But, I fear I won't even get this much posted unless I pull the trigger on it now. I'd like to say I'll write more soon, but I probably won't. We're very much on our own out here. Our families live many states away and I've been a little sad to find that, with some exceptions, our local friends haven't stepped in to fill the gap the way I hoped they might. That sounds whinier than I want it to because we're really doing okay, but we're also both operating at 110% and we have zero down time in which to catch our breath. None. There are things that are far more essential to the functioning of our household than blogging that are being left to the wayside right now, so... I'll be back when I can, which will hopefully be soon enough that C and G's entire infancies don't disappear into the vortex of my feeble memory. :-)
*This post has had two previous titles, on account'a the fact that I've been writing it a couple sentences at a time for-ev-er. The first was "Three weeks old!" Then, "One month old!" Even this one is technically out of date, but it's close enough so we're rolling with it.
There is no way I can possibly recap all that has happened since C and G arrived. I'm going to try to hit the highlights though - please excuse the choppy post to follow!
Hospital time = Mostly good. After the shock of our crazy (but wonderful) birth experience wore off, we spent the next few days falling in love with our adorable new roommates. E was never in our room at the hospital and it is so different and so much cooler to have your baby right there with you!! (Another shocking news flash, I know.) My parents stayed with E and brought him to visit us each day. We had some really lovely nurses and the overall vibe was just really laid-back and blissful as M and I celebrated and bonded with our two healthy babes. My recovery was a little rougher in some ways because I had retained so much fluid and my body was in no hurry to release it. It took a whole day and several bags of IV fluid to jumpstart my kidneys to start producing urine again after my c-section and all that time, I just kept getting bigger and more uncomfortable. Also, the doctor who did my surgery (not my OB, thanks to the boys' early arrival - boo) botched one side of the repair job a bit. I guess it is technically closed now (it wasn't at my first postpartum visit), but it looks weird, like it isn't fully sealed. I'm not sure how else to describe it. Also, for the first two weeks, I had this unbearable nerve pain deep under the incision. Fun stuff. It's still sore, but nothing like it was, thank goodness. The pressure to supplement with formula started within hours of the boys' birth and we resisted it until the day before we left. We had a great pro-breastfeeding pediatrician while in the hospital who completely supported our refusal (truly, she cried with me when we finally had to supplement), but the day before we were scheduled to leave, the boys dropped down to 14% below birthweight and she explained she wasn't allowed to send them home until they at least started moving back in the right direction. My milk still wasn't in, so our only options were to leave the boys there (which assured they'd get formula since we couldn't be at the hospital for every feed once we were discharged) or start giving them formula ourselves. We opted for the latter and began following each breastfeeding session with 15-20mL of formula. The following morning, they'd lost even more weight despite the supplementation, but they let us stay in our room a few extra hours and by 4pm, the tide had turned and we were all able to go home together. Hallelujah!
First week home = Heaven! We came home on Memorial Day and M took the next day off. (Yup, that's all she could take post-hospital.) E was at school and we sat around the house all day, holding sleeping babies and basking in the glow of how seamlessly the transition was going. I know, how inappropriately smug of us. Fear not, we got our comeuppance :-) On Wednesday, we took the boys to their first weight check and to our relief, they were both still gaining. C was back up to 6lbs, 3oz. and G was 6lbs, 2oz. On Thursday, we went back to the pediatrician's office for their first doctor visit. Both boys were pronounced the picture of health. Up until then, we'd continued to supplement with formula in response to the boys' hunger cues. We talked to our pediatrician about wanting to stop this and she was supportive of us cutting the formula out cold turkey. M went back to work on Wednesday, but my mom was a huge help during the hours she was gone. The next few days were idyllic (although as I look back over my notes, I can see they weren't eating nearly often enough - still sleeping when they should have been nursing) and we even managed to have a lovely breakfast out on Sunday - our first as a family of five! We wrapped up the first week home with another weight check on Monday morning, and that is when things began to crumble...
Second week home = The higher the ladder, the longer the chute. Monday morning's weight check did not bring good news - C hadn't gained any weight, and G had lost an ounce. Uh oh. This seriously rocked my confidence, as did some signs of lethargy and weakness I'd started to notice in G. The doctor came in to talk to us and said she was not concerned. The number of wet/dirty diapers we were seeing meant the boys were getting enough to eat, and she guessed they were going to move off the weight plateau any moment. She coached me to stick with EBF and to do whatever I could to r-e-l-a-x. She reassured me over and over again that everything was fine and she'd tell me if she had any concern whatsoever. We made a plan to nursenursenurse as much as possible and bring them back Thursday for another weight check. I went home resolved to take deep breaths and make it work... but the universe had other plans. A couple of hours after returning from the weight check, and just before I was about to sit down to feed the babies, I was (TMI alert) battling some constipation (thank you, Percoset), when I had what was later diagnosed as a vasovagal response, followed immediately by a hot, pulsing headache unlike anything I've ever experienced. I honestly worried something had burst in my brain. My mom called 911 and I was taken to the ER by ambulance. I spent the next 8ish hours being drugged, CT scanned and lumbar punctured, and finally sent home with the diagnosis of postpartum migraine, which is apparently A Thing. I returned home engorged but afraid to nurse because of all the meds I'd had in the ER. The nurses assured me everything I was given was compatible with breastfeeding, but come on... Morphine? M and I looked up half lives and percentages in milk for each drug and felt we should err on the side of caution. The babies had already had several formula bottles at that point, so we decided I'd pump and dump for the next 12 hours to be safe, then start fresh at noon the following day. Oh, I nearly cried watching ounce after ounce of breastmilk go down the drain in our bathroom sink. Uggggghhhhhh. So, that was day one. Nice, huh? The next morning, we had a photographer come out to take newborn pics of the boys. They came out so wonderfully and I'm SO glad we didn't cancel her after what went down the previous day. I will post a couple on the password protected blog. She'd been gone maybe an hour when E's symptoms started to show and by the afternoon, it was clear he was not well at all. His fever stayed mostly in the 102-103 range for three full days and he clearly felt awful. I was terrified he'd pass something along to the little boys so I basically sequestered the three of us in my bedroom and only checked on E intermittently, scrubbing in and out like a surgeon for each visit. M had to work all week, so most of his sick care fell to my mom, which was a heartbreaking introduction (hazing?) to what it feels like to have more children than hands. It was agonizing not to be able to care for him when he needed me, but the babies needed me more right then. (We managed to end the week without the babies getting sick, thank goodness.) On Wednesday, I tried to meet with a lactation counselor to develop a plan to safely wean our itty bitty babies off the formula. I really didn't want their weights to dip again. The LC was out, but I had the opportunity to weigh the babies pre- and post-feed, and when it appeared that they managed to LOSE weight during the feeding, I had an epic meltdown, complete with ugly public crying. This earned me another "You Must Relax" pep talk, and a recommendation to start using this supplement, which I started that afternoon. On Thursday, E went to the pediatrician to rule out strep or hand, foot, and mouth and I had my first postpartum visit - at the same time, of course. My mom took E to his appointment and my dad drove me and the babies to mine since I was still taking Percoset and couldn't drive myself. Fun times! My headaches still had not relented so I talked my OB into giving me a couple of doses of Imi.trex by promising to follow up with my primary care doctor after that. I did just that on Friday and was encouraged to try treating the headaches with caffeine which, blessedly, has been working pretty well since then. I usually don't drink any coffee, tea or soda, so even small amounts of caffeine have been making a big difference for me. Or it's a placebo effect. I couldn't care less as long as it keeps my headaches at bay, which it has thus far. Having a debilitating headache while trying to care for newborn twins and a sick three year old is torture. On Friday of that week, we went in for another weight check and they finally gained! G was only up to 6lbs, 3oz but it was something, and C was up to 6lbs., 8oz! After their 24 hours of formula early in the week, we'd continued to supplement here and there - never more than an ounce a day per baby, but enough to make me nervous to go back to EBF without one more check that they were growing on breastmilk alone. The doctor agreed we could come in for one more weight check on Tuesday, so once again, we attempted to stop supplementing, but this time we were able to follow through. Phew! Near the end of their second week home, M's mom came into town and my parents left. I was heartsick to see them go. My mom had been such an enormous help toward the end of my pregnancy and during C and G's first two weeks of life (especially that second week home, aka hell week). Having M's mom around for a few days was great, but her stay was short, and the day where I'd need to start caring for both babies all on my own was looming nearer and nearer with each passing hour and I had NO idea how I was going to manage.
Third week home and beyond: Finding our new normal. The following Tuesday's weight check brought great news. The babies were up to 6lbs, 8oz (G) and 6lbs, 13oz (C). Both had gained 5 ounces in 4 days with no formula, so I finally had the peace of mind I needed and we've been EBFing ever since. On Wednesday morning, M's mom left at the crack of dawn and I was officially on my own. The babies were one day shy of three weeks old. *Gulp* Somehow, we all survived and since then, the pendulum seems to have come to rest on: Really freaking hard and busier than I ever could have anticipated, but manageable, and peppered with moments of such bliss and beauty that I could burst from the sheer joy that is our life. I have learned so much and I do things with the babies every day that I never would have thought possible, logistically. The learning curve is something else when you're thrown right into the deep end. We get out on our own at least once a day - sometimes for several hours of errands, sometimes just to pick E up at school - but it's something. On a couple occasions, we've stayed out through a feeding time and I've needed to nurse them, in public, on my own. At home, I tandem feed them, but when we're out, I have to do them one at a time and, somehow, keep the other baby pacified too. The first time I did it, I'll admit I felt a little like Wonder Woman. :-) We've also been doing a lot as a family on the evenings and weekends. M has been awesome about this. I'm sure she'd rather put her feet up at the end of her long workdays (HA, like we're going to be doing that anytime in the next 3-5 years!) but she knows I need to get out for my own mental health and she does what she can to make that happen. (Your efforts have not gone unnoticed, Love.) We've been having a lot of picnic dinners in parks, despite the oppressive heat, because the babies love to be outdoors and I can sit on a blanket and feed them while watching M and E play. It's been really... nice. Despite the rough start, breastfeeding is going really well. We haven't had to supplement at all in the past month and my supply seems to be keeping up with their demand. I just hope we'll have a strong enough foundation for it to stay that way once I go back to work in two short weeks. (And now, I will cease speaking of that wretched day to keep myself from vomiting.)
The babies have easy temperaments (one more so than the other, of course) and they don't have the health issues (colic, reflux) that E suffered from, so we joke that the two of them together are still easier than E was as a singleton newborn, which is NOT actually a joke because it's 100% true. They look almost nothing like each other, and yet they both look startlingly like E, which is really freaking cool for reasons long-time readers of this blog will appreciate. They were both up to 7lbs, 8oz and 21.5 inches (exactly the same size!) at their pediatrician appointment just over a week ago. They have started to outgrow preemie clothes by length and are fitting comfortably into NB and some 3mo sized clothes, as well as most of the newborn diapers in our CD stash. During the past few days, they have both become very generous with their smiles and we can consistently elicit them, which is basically the best thing to happen ever.
There are so many things I want to say; so many things I want to document here because time is racing by at breakneck speed and I know I'm going to forget so much. But, I fear I won't even get this much posted unless I pull the trigger on it now. I'd like to say I'll write more soon, but I probably won't. We're very much on our own out here. Our families live many states away and I've been a little sad to find that, with some exceptions, our local friends haven't stepped in to fill the gap the way I hoped they might. That sounds whinier than I want it to because we're really doing okay, but we're also both operating at 110% and we have zero down time in which to catch our breath. None. There are things that are far more essential to the functioning of our household than blogging that are being left to the wayside right now, so... I'll be back when I can, which will hopefully be soon enough that C and G's entire infancies don't disappear into the vortex of my feeble memory. :-)
*This post has had two previous titles, on account'a the fact that I've been writing it a couple sentences at a time for-ev-er. The first was "Three weeks old!" Then, "One month old!" Even this one is technically out of date, but it's close enough so we're rolling with it.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Party of Five
Sorry for going AWOL on you. I know it sounds cliche, but the past week has been the fastest of my life to date. As you have probably figured on your own, we are the proud (and busy) parents of two more little boys!
We were less than 12 hours away from our scheduled c-section when the babes decided to take matters into their own hands, and they were in our arms barely three hours later. Planned delivery? Nope, thanks for offering though! We even had a white-knuckle trip to the hospital and a doctor yelling at me not to push. It was an exciting evening. I will write and share their birth story soon (when I'm not so strung out on narcotics) but I wanted to poke my nose in to belatedly announce that we are all here and all okay. Some of us, in fact, are better than okay, and those persons would be our two big, beautiful, healthy boys!
They arrived on Thursday, May 24th, just three hours shy of 38 weeks gestation. Baby A weighed 6lbs, 10oz and Baby B weighed 6lbs, 11oz - just one ounce apart! They were given a clean bill of health in the OR and roomed-in with us for the rest of our hospital stay. We had to give in to a little bit of formula supplementation while waiting for my milk to come in, but we have since switched back to 100% breast milk and, for now, my body seems up to this task. Hooray! There are no words to express how head-over-heels in love with them I am, and with our whole experience this time around as opposed to last time. It's more than just having a redemptive hospital/birth experience (which I did), but the experience of "becoming" a parent for a second time is very different too and, in my case, it's been one characterized by pure, unadulterated bliss. More to come on that soon, I hope. In the meantime, I must get back to snuggling two of the world's most amazing new arrivals...
We were less than 12 hours away from our scheduled c-section when the babes decided to take matters into their own hands, and they were in our arms barely three hours later. Planned delivery? Nope, thanks for offering though! We even had a white-knuckle trip to the hospital and a doctor yelling at me not to push. It was an exciting evening. I will write and share their birth story soon (when I'm not so strung out on narcotics) but I wanted to poke my nose in to belatedly announce that we are all here and all okay. Some of us, in fact, are better than okay, and those persons would be our two big, beautiful, healthy boys!
They arrived on Thursday, May 24th, just three hours shy of 38 weeks gestation. Baby A weighed 6lbs, 10oz and Baby B weighed 6lbs, 11oz - just one ounce apart! They were given a clean bill of health in the OR and roomed-in with us for the rest of our hospital stay. We had to give in to a little bit of formula supplementation while waiting for my milk to come in, but we have since switched back to 100% breast milk and, for now, my body seems up to this task. Hooray! There are no words to express how head-over-heels in love with them I am, and with our whole experience this time around as opposed to last time. It's more than just having a redemptive hospital/birth experience (which I did), but the experience of "becoming" a parent for a second time is very different too and, in my case, it's been one characterized by pure, unadulterated bliss. More to come on that soon, I hope. In the meantime, I must get back to snuggling two of the world's most amazing new arrivals...
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
It's not over until the fat lady cries.
And that day would be yesterday, so feel free to come out any time now, boys!
I just realized I never updated after my last OB visit (oops!), but my c-section is scheduled for Friday morning, which will be 38 weeks on the nose.
It is really difficult to carry twins to 38 weeks, both physically and emotionally. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.) It seems silly to say I'm surprised by how much so on both counts, but I am. Of course it makes sense that the experience would be taxing, in a theoretical sense, but (1) I NEVER expected to carry them this long so I never gave a lot of thought to what being 37w4d pregnant with twins would *feel* like, and (2) like so many things in life, I don't think you can appreciate the entirety of it in advance anyway.
Getting through these final days is proving to be the hardest thing I have ever experienced. I've never thought of myself as an Amazing Race kind of person (If you know me outside the computer, don't laugh. I'm not delusional - I still don't.) but I would put full-term twin pregnancy up against any of the endurance challenges those contestants go through. So much of it is mental - giving myself pep talks about how short 4 days really are in the grand scheme of things, when the distance from Monday to Friday sounds like an insurmountable ravine of time - but much of it is physical, too. (TMI alert about some of the disclosures to follow.) I ache from head to toe. I am lucky to get 3-4 hours of sleep cobbled together per 24 hour period. I am retaining massive amounts of fluid, as evidenced by my 7 pound weight gain last week (and 5 the week before), despite my food intake dropping way down thanks to my matchbox-sized stomach. The swelling in my hands, feet, ankles and calves was expected, but the giant mass of pitting edema that spreads further across the bottom half of my belly each day has been a surprise. It's tender to the touch and horrifying to look at. All of my organs are compressed and/or displaced which causes nausea and other assorted GI discomforts at least every day or two. I have to hold my belly up to pee or else it crimps some internal part of my urethra and nothing comes out. I have so much sympathy for men with prostate issues now! I have acid reflux that burns all the way up into the back of my mouth. My weight gain alone makes it difficult to move, let alone get in and out of cars, push myself up from lying down to sitting, and complete other assorted daily activities.
All of that said, I know how lucky I am that my body has cooperated to keep these boys in this long, and then to keep me as active as I am on top of that. We had a full weekend - farmer's market, a birthday party for E's best school bud, a (seated) concert Saturday night, house chores and errands - and with the exception of a zoo visit on Sunday morning which I sat out, I was able to keep up and spend just about every minute with my people; our last weekend as a family of three. However, I probably overdid it because by late Sunday night, I felt terrible. I went to my NST and OB appointment on Monday with the goal of talking my OB into putting me out of my misery sooner rather than later. I felt sure that one of my health indicators would reflect that sheer agony I was in and she'd have the medical grounds to move my c-section up. With each test, I awaited the results that would be my golden ticket out... BP? 106/64. (Damn.) NST? Passed with no concerns. (Ugh.) Urine? Concentrated due to fluid retention, but no trace of protein, ketones, or anything else concerning. (Crap.) Weight gain and edema? Severe enough to garner genuine sympathy from my OB, but not quite enough to warrant a pre-38-week section without a second criterion of Pre-E or other health threat. (Nooo!) Temperature? 96.8, my norm. (You get the picture.) My OB was thorough and asked lots of questions, trying to uncover anything else I was forgetting to mention, but all I could come up with was that I just felt lousy all over. She took lots of notes and flipped back and forth through my chart a few times and then turned to face me before saying, "I keep looking through this in hopes I can find some reason to section you tonight, but there's just... nothing. You look great. Well, you don't look great, you look miserable, but clinically, you are doing awesome." After a bit more chatting and a little tearing up on my part, she encouraged me to call as often as I want to this week and come in as needed, but that barring any exciting changes, she'd see me bright and early Friday morning. I left feeling hopeless and sure I'd never survive four more days of this pregnancy.
Yesterday afternoon and evening were terrible. I continued to feel weak and achy and the mere thought of food overwhelmed me with nausea, as did lying on my left side at all, even for only a few minutes. The one upside to the fluid retention is that despite the huge amount of water I'm drinking, the frequency of my trips to the bathroom has dropped way off, which let me get a bit of a nap in while sitting in the nursery recliner. Late last night, I was able to stomach some rice cereal and a banana, and after a long talk with M, I felt better than I had all day. It's amazing what a pep talk from your amazing, super-star partner can do for your spirits. I got about five hours of sleep last night (in only three chunks!) and am feeling even better today. (This post would have been uglyuglyugly had I written it last night as I intended to.) I still feel like Friday is a long way off, but 2 days, 18 hours, 6 minutes, and 14 seconds (per the countdown on my iGoogle page) feels more do-able than the numbers I was staring at yesterday. I'm sure tomorrow's will be even more reassuring. Like it or not, my body is intent on seeing this through, and I'm just along for the ride at this point. All I can do is try to keep my mind and emotions in check. I doubt I could manage this on my own, but I have M in my corner, and we can do this together.
So, 2 days, 18 hours, (now) 3 minutes, and 25... 24... 23... 22 seconds to go and then this part will be over and our babies will be here. I've never been more anxious to meet two little people.
p.s. Speaking of having people in my corner... I want to thank all of you who commented on my last post. Your words meant more to me than you can know. It's been a big couple of weeks for mom-petition in the mass media, and I'm ashamed to admit how quickly I fall into the trap when it comes to natural birth stuff. This could turn into a long post unto itself, so for now I will just say that your comments were grounding and affirming and provided me with a much-needed touchstone, so thanks to all who took the time to reach out. You gals rock. :-)
I just realized I never updated after my last OB visit (oops!), but my c-section is scheduled for Friday morning, which will be 38 weeks on the nose.
It is really difficult to carry twins to 38 weeks, both physically and emotionally. (Thank you, Captain Obvious.) It seems silly to say I'm surprised by how much so on both counts, but I am. Of course it makes sense that the experience would be taxing, in a theoretical sense, but (1) I NEVER expected to carry them this long so I never gave a lot of thought to what being 37w4d pregnant with twins would *feel* like, and (2) like so many things in life, I don't think you can appreciate the entirety of it in advance anyway.
Getting through these final days is proving to be the hardest thing I have ever experienced. I've never thought of myself as an Amazing Race kind of person (If you know me outside the computer, don't laugh. I'm not delusional - I still don't.) but I would put full-term twin pregnancy up against any of the endurance challenges those contestants go through. So much of it is mental - giving myself pep talks about how short 4 days really are in the grand scheme of things, when the distance from Monday to Friday sounds like an insurmountable ravine of time - but much of it is physical, too. (TMI alert about some of the disclosures to follow.) I ache from head to toe. I am lucky to get 3-4 hours of sleep cobbled together per 24 hour period. I am retaining massive amounts of fluid, as evidenced by my 7 pound weight gain last week (and 5 the week before), despite my food intake dropping way down thanks to my matchbox-sized stomach. The swelling in my hands, feet, ankles and calves was expected, but the giant mass of pitting edema that spreads further across the bottom half of my belly each day has been a surprise. It's tender to the touch and horrifying to look at. All of my organs are compressed and/or displaced which causes nausea and other assorted GI discomforts at least every day or two. I have to hold my belly up to pee or else it crimps some internal part of my urethra and nothing comes out. I have so much sympathy for men with prostate issues now! I have acid reflux that burns all the way up into the back of my mouth. My weight gain alone makes it difficult to move, let alone get in and out of cars, push myself up from lying down to sitting, and complete other assorted daily activities.
All of that said, I know how lucky I am that my body has cooperated to keep these boys in this long, and then to keep me as active as I am on top of that. We had a full weekend - farmer's market, a birthday party for E's best school bud, a (seated) concert Saturday night, house chores and errands - and with the exception of a zoo visit on Sunday morning which I sat out, I was able to keep up and spend just about every minute with my people; our last weekend as a family of three. However, I probably overdid it because by late Sunday night, I felt terrible. I went to my NST and OB appointment on Monday with the goal of talking my OB into putting me out of my misery sooner rather than later. I felt sure that one of my health indicators would reflect that sheer agony I was in and she'd have the medical grounds to move my c-section up. With each test, I awaited the results that would be my golden ticket out... BP? 106/64. (Damn.) NST? Passed with no concerns. (Ugh.) Urine? Concentrated due to fluid retention, but no trace of protein, ketones, or anything else concerning. (Crap.) Weight gain and edema? Severe enough to garner genuine sympathy from my OB, but not quite enough to warrant a pre-38-week section without a second criterion of Pre-E or other health threat. (Nooo!) Temperature? 96.8, my norm. (You get the picture.) My OB was thorough and asked lots of questions, trying to uncover anything else I was forgetting to mention, but all I could come up with was that I just felt lousy all over. She took lots of notes and flipped back and forth through my chart a few times and then turned to face me before saying, "I keep looking through this in hopes I can find some reason to section you tonight, but there's just... nothing. You look great. Well, you don't look great, you look miserable, but clinically, you are doing awesome." After a bit more chatting and a little tearing up on my part, she encouraged me to call as often as I want to this week and come in as needed, but that barring any exciting changes, she'd see me bright and early Friday morning. I left feeling hopeless and sure I'd never survive four more days of this pregnancy.
Yesterday afternoon and evening were terrible. I continued to feel weak and achy and the mere thought of food overwhelmed me with nausea, as did lying on my left side at all, even for only a few minutes. The one upside to the fluid retention is that despite the huge amount of water I'm drinking, the frequency of my trips to the bathroom has dropped way off, which let me get a bit of a nap in while sitting in the nursery recliner. Late last night, I was able to stomach some rice cereal and a banana, and after a long talk with M, I felt better than I had all day. It's amazing what a pep talk from your amazing, super-star partner can do for your spirits. I got about five hours of sleep last night (in only three chunks!) and am feeling even better today. (This post would have been uglyuglyugly had I written it last night as I intended to.) I still feel like Friday is a long way off, but 2 days, 18 hours, 6 minutes, and 14 seconds (per the countdown on my iGoogle page) feels more do-able than the numbers I was staring at yesterday. I'm sure tomorrow's will be even more reassuring. Like it or not, my body is intent on seeing this through, and I'm just along for the ride at this point. All I can do is try to keep my mind and emotions in check. I doubt I could manage this on my own, but I have M in my corner, and we can do this together.
So, 2 days, 18 hours, (now) 3 minutes, and 25... 24... 23... 22 seconds to go and then this part will be over and our babies will be here. I've never been more anxious to meet two little people.
p.s. Speaking of having people in my corner... I want to thank all of you who commented on my last post. Your words meant more to me than you can know. It's been a big couple of weeks for mom-petition in the mass media, and I'm ashamed to admit how quickly I fall into the trap when it comes to natural birth stuff. This could turn into a long post unto itself, so for now I will just say that your comments were grounding and affirming and provided me with a much-needed touchstone, so thanks to all who took the time to reach out. You gals rock. :-)
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
closing in on 37 weeks
I am 36w5d as of today, and feeling every hour of it. I'm doing what I can to focus on the goal of keeping the boys inside as long as possible and ignore everything else, but whew, my body is hurting! A lot has happened since I last updated, so let me take a few steps back...
I had an OB appointment on May 5th - my first since the ultrasound on April 30th where we learned both babies were head-down. I did the NST first and the monitor picked up three good contractions. One was especially strong and caused my OB's eyebrows to shoot up when she saw it on the strip. She asked if I was having many contractions like that one and I said that I had been - some that were strong enough I couldn't think or talk through them - but they were very irregular. Still, she decided to check my cervix for progress. Alas, there was none to be found - no dilation, no effacement. I'm not sure how much that influenced the conversation that came next, but it's something I've thought about a lot since in trying to make peace with things.
My OB paged through the ultrasound report and told me the babies' sizes are great, but farther apart (and with the "wrong" baby being larger) than she'd like to see for a VBAC. Baby B's head measuring so far ahead for the second ultrasound in a row is another major concern. Based upon these things, she took the VBAC option off the table. I was crushed and asked if we could at least try it, but maybe throw in the towel earlier than we might have otherwise if it didn't seem things were going well. She said no based upon the worry that I might have no trouble delivering (smaller) Baby A, but before I was dilated enough to deliver (larger) Baby B, and that once A was out, there might not be sufficient pressure on my cervix to for me to further dilate and push B out. In this case, she'd be forced to do some kind of assisted extraction, and the risks of those procedures are too great with a uterine scar present. I asked about the known margin of error on ultrasound size estimates and she said the problem is that Baby B has measured larger for months so we have to assume that is accurate to at least some extent. With the last size differential being a full pound, she's just not comfortable "ignoring" that. The only compromise I was able to strike was holding off on scheduling a c-section. My OB said that since we know that will be the outcome, she'd prefer I not labor at all as there is no need to put any unnecessary stress on me or the babies. I asked to be allowed to go into labor on my own and she agreed as long as (1) I promise to come to the hospital ASAP once it begins - no messing around in hopes of having an "accidental" VBAC and (2) it happens by 38 weeks.
I left feeling really frustrated and upset. Even if I had the energy or desire to doctor shop at 35 1/2 weeks pregnant with twins, what are the chances I could find another OB to take me on? I felt really stupid for believing that she'd honor my request for a VBAC even though it went against the personal preference she repeatedly expressed to me. Even if she had the best of intentions of respecting my wishes (within reason), what were the chances we'd make it all the way to delivery without something coming up to spook her out of it? If it wasn't the boys' size difference, it probably would have been something else. She was never 100% on board, and I regret not seeing that for the red flag that it turned out to be. But, hindsight is 20/20. I always knew there was a chance - maybe even a likelihood - that we'd end up with a c-section. I just thought that if we got to that point, it would be our choice, after seeing for ourselves that a vaginal delivery was not progressing the way we hoped or was otherwise unmanageable. I didn't expect it to be decided for us weeks in advance, especially after our last ultrasound. Stupid, perhaps, but her decision came as quite the surprise.
Despite how upset as I was following the visit, I've mostly made peace with it now. Here's the thing: I don't have easy labors. I wanted to confirm through experience that this one would be no exception rather than just assuming that would be the case, but even without getting the opportunity to do so, I know there's at least a reasonable chance things would not have progressed smoothly or quickly. It would have been nice to see that for myself, but on the flip side, this relieves me (us) from having to make the decision in a state of exhaustion, stress, pressure and pain, and the second-guessing that surely would have followed once the fog cleared. I don't have to worry that we'll be divided - that I'll want to continue laboring and M or the doctor will want to call it, and that it'll end up being something I harbor anger or frustration over. It's cleaner in many ways, and there are pros to that. Also, I have time now to grieve the loss of the VBAC, instead of that being something I have to incorporate into those early postpartum hours and days when there will be other more important things competing for my attention. The fact that my cervix showed NO changes after lots of tough contractions was not inspiring. I know that might change very quickly once the regular contractions of actual labor start, but maybe not, too. It didn't with E. I have a stubborn cervix: Good for keeping twins inside to term; bad for getting the babies out once the time comes! On top of all of that, I'm getting more tired and sore by the day. I'm not in good shape for any type of labor right now, let alone one with the extra challenges my twin-VBAC-with-larger-Baby-B-and-marginally-supportive-OB would present. (Yes, I'm aware I'm rationalizing and all of these "arguments" are on the flimsy side, but I have no power to change the situation at this point, so what else can I do but try to make sense of it somehow?) So anyway, a c-section it will be. Having experienced one before, I am in no way looking forward to repeating the experience, but it will be quick, and surely less scary since it won't be an emergency and I won't be delirious with exhaustion, pain and infection.
I'm trying to focus on all the ways this c-section will likely be different from the last one. I'm far enough along that there is a really good chance the babies will be able to come back to our room with us. E was whisked straight to Special Care and stayed there for a full week. I won't be sick, so I should be able to see them right away and even hold and try to nurse them before too long. (Right? I actually have no idea how a "normal" c-section works. Everything about E's delivery was wrong and scary and only got worse in the days that followed.) M will be in better shape too, and we'll be able to take happy "new additions" pictures in the OR. All good things. This is going to be okay. *deep breath*
Moving on... I'm still up and around and getting out of the house every day, so the rest of last week was spent going to chiro appointments, running errands, continuing with house preparations, and waiting for babies. The most exciting thing to happen last week was that M's parents offered to help us finance the purchase of a larger, more reliable car. We already bought E a narrower convertible seat in order to make my (paid off) 11-year-old compact SUV work for 3 kids, but then a couple of weeks ago, my car started making some funny noises, not four months after we spent $1000 on a substantial repair. It was enough to scare both of us into brainstorming what to do if/when the next costly repair bill comes in on my car. We've obviously reached the point where any such investments would be part of a losing battle. We have great credit, but we're not in a position to take on a new car payment right now, certainly not the sizable payment it would take to get us into something larger and more reliable than what we already have. M decided to ask her parents to think about whether they might be willing to give us a car loan with a flexible repayment plan, once the feared repair bill comes in, most likely sometime in the next 6-12 months. Her parents surprised us by telling us to go shopping post haste and on Saturday, we bought a Honda Odyssey! It's used, but certified and it is in great condition with low miles. I've had some angst over making the move to a minivan, but I know it's the right tool for the job, and I have to admit it has some pretty swanky features. I'm definitely looking forward to the extra elbow room it will give us all.
OB appointment this Monday was uneventful. NST was long, again, but both babies looked great. Fundal height is up to 47cm. Those strong contractions I was having have all but stopped - maybe my uterus got the message it's off the hook and decided to stop practicing? My BP is still low (100/58) and there is no protein in my urine. I'm up to twice-weekly NST/OB visits now, so I go back tomorrow, and I suspect we'll schedule the c-section for 38 weeks, which will be May 25th, or whatever day closest to then she can fit me in. I'm still hoping to go into labor on my own before then, although the steep decline in contractions isn't encouraging. My chiropractor has been offering to stimulate some induction acupressure points at whatever point I decide I'm ready, so I will probably give her the green light at my appointment on Friday (37 weeks), and I'm considering paying a visit to my acupuncturist as well. I'd prefer to let things unfold even more naturally than that, but with that 38 week deadline looming closer and closer, I'm ready to get creative! I know every hour in utero counts and I really want the boys' to decide when their stay there should end. That said, I am so, soooo uncomfortable, so if they felt like coming, oh, I don't know... now, I wouldn't be terribly disappointed or anything. :-)
Just for fun (or terror), here's a picture of my belly from yesterday. This is what a 47cm uterus full of 12ish pounds of baby (maybe more?) looks like on a 5'2" frame.
Sorry for the epic post. There's just a lot going on right now and I want to capture it all before things get crazy around here, which could happen at any moment!
I had an OB appointment on May 5th - my first since the ultrasound on April 30th where we learned both babies were head-down. I did the NST first and the monitor picked up three good contractions. One was especially strong and caused my OB's eyebrows to shoot up when she saw it on the strip. She asked if I was having many contractions like that one and I said that I had been - some that were strong enough I couldn't think or talk through them - but they were very irregular. Still, she decided to check my cervix for progress. Alas, there was none to be found - no dilation, no effacement. I'm not sure how much that influenced the conversation that came next, but it's something I've thought about a lot since in trying to make peace with things.
My OB paged through the ultrasound report and told me the babies' sizes are great, but farther apart (and with the "wrong" baby being larger) than she'd like to see for a VBAC. Baby B's head measuring so far ahead for the second ultrasound in a row is another major concern. Based upon these things, she took the VBAC option off the table. I was crushed and asked if we could at least try it, but maybe throw in the towel earlier than we might have otherwise if it didn't seem things were going well. She said no based upon the worry that I might have no trouble delivering (smaller) Baby A, but before I was dilated enough to deliver (larger) Baby B, and that once A was out, there might not be sufficient pressure on my cervix to for me to further dilate and push B out. In this case, she'd be forced to do some kind of assisted extraction, and the risks of those procedures are too great with a uterine scar present. I asked about the known margin of error on ultrasound size estimates and she said the problem is that Baby B has measured larger for months so we have to assume that is accurate to at least some extent. With the last size differential being a full pound, she's just not comfortable "ignoring" that. The only compromise I was able to strike was holding off on scheduling a c-section. My OB said that since we know that will be the outcome, she'd prefer I not labor at all as there is no need to put any unnecessary stress on me or the babies. I asked to be allowed to go into labor on my own and she agreed as long as (1) I promise to come to the hospital ASAP once it begins - no messing around in hopes of having an "accidental" VBAC and (2) it happens by 38 weeks.
I left feeling really frustrated and upset. Even if I had the energy or desire to doctor shop at 35 1/2 weeks pregnant with twins, what are the chances I could find another OB to take me on? I felt really stupid for believing that she'd honor my request for a VBAC even though it went against the personal preference she repeatedly expressed to me. Even if she had the best of intentions of respecting my wishes (within reason), what were the chances we'd make it all the way to delivery without something coming up to spook her out of it? If it wasn't the boys' size difference, it probably would have been something else. She was never 100% on board, and I regret not seeing that for the red flag that it turned out to be. But, hindsight is 20/20. I always knew there was a chance - maybe even a likelihood - that we'd end up with a c-section. I just thought that if we got to that point, it would be our choice, after seeing for ourselves that a vaginal delivery was not progressing the way we hoped or was otherwise unmanageable. I didn't expect it to be decided for us weeks in advance, especially after our last ultrasound. Stupid, perhaps, but her decision came as quite the surprise.
Despite how upset as I was following the visit, I've mostly made peace with it now. Here's the thing: I don't have easy labors. I wanted to confirm through experience that this one would be no exception rather than just assuming that would be the case, but even without getting the opportunity to do so, I know there's at least a reasonable chance things would not have progressed smoothly or quickly. It would have been nice to see that for myself, but on the flip side, this relieves me (us) from having to make the decision in a state of exhaustion, stress, pressure and pain, and the second-guessing that surely would have followed once the fog cleared. I don't have to worry that we'll be divided - that I'll want to continue laboring and M or the doctor will want to call it, and that it'll end up being something I harbor anger or frustration over. It's cleaner in many ways, and there are pros to that. Also, I have time now to grieve the loss of the VBAC, instead of that being something I have to incorporate into those early postpartum hours and days when there will be other more important things competing for my attention. The fact that my cervix showed NO changes after lots of tough contractions was not inspiring. I know that might change very quickly once the regular contractions of actual labor start, but maybe not, too. It didn't with E. I have a stubborn cervix: Good for keeping twins inside to term; bad for getting the babies out once the time comes! On top of all of that, I'm getting more tired and sore by the day. I'm not in good shape for any type of labor right now, let alone one with the extra challenges my twin-VBAC-with-larger-Baby-B-and-marginally-supportive-OB would present. (Yes, I'm aware I'm rationalizing and all of these "arguments" are on the flimsy side, but I have no power to change the situation at this point, so what else can I do but try to make sense of it somehow?) So anyway, a c-section it will be. Having experienced one before, I am in no way looking forward to repeating the experience, but it will be quick, and surely less scary since it won't be an emergency and I won't be delirious with exhaustion, pain and infection.
I'm trying to focus on all the ways this c-section will likely be different from the last one. I'm far enough along that there is a really good chance the babies will be able to come back to our room with us. E was whisked straight to Special Care and stayed there for a full week. I won't be sick, so I should be able to see them right away and even hold and try to nurse them before too long. (Right? I actually have no idea how a "normal" c-section works. Everything about E's delivery was wrong and scary and only got worse in the days that followed.) M will be in better shape too, and we'll be able to take happy "new additions" pictures in the OR. All good things. This is going to be okay. *deep breath*
Moving on... I'm still up and around and getting out of the house every day, so the rest of last week was spent going to chiro appointments, running errands, continuing with house preparations, and waiting for babies. The most exciting thing to happen last week was that M's parents offered to help us finance the purchase of a larger, more reliable car. We already bought E a narrower convertible seat in order to make my (paid off) 11-year-old compact SUV work for 3 kids, but then a couple of weeks ago, my car started making some funny noises, not four months after we spent $1000 on a substantial repair. It was enough to scare both of us into brainstorming what to do if/when the next costly repair bill comes in on my car. We've obviously reached the point where any such investments would be part of a losing battle. We have great credit, but we're not in a position to take on a new car payment right now, certainly not the sizable payment it would take to get us into something larger and more reliable than what we already have. M decided to ask her parents to think about whether they might be willing to give us a car loan with a flexible repayment plan, once the feared repair bill comes in, most likely sometime in the next 6-12 months. Her parents surprised us by telling us to go shopping post haste and on Saturday, we bought a Honda Odyssey! It's used, but certified and it is in great condition with low miles. I've had some angst over making the move to a minivan, but I know it's the right tool for the job, and I have to admit it has some pretty swanky features. I'm definitely looking forward to the extra elbow room it will give us all.
OB appointment this Monday was uneventful. NST was long, again, but both babies looked great. Fundal height is up to 47cm. Those strong contractions I was having have all but stopped - maybe my uterus got the message it's off the hook and decided to stop practicing? My BP is still low (100/58) and there is no protein in my urine. I'm up to twice-weekly NST/OB visits now, so I go back tomorrow, and I suspect we'll schedule the c-section for 38 weeks, which will be May 25th, or whatever day closest to then she can fit me in. I'm still hoping to go into labor on my own before then, although the steep decline in contractions isn't encouraging. My chiropractor has been offering to stimulate some induction acupressure points at whatever point I decide I'm ready, so I will probably give her the green light at my appointment on Friday (37 weeks), and I'm considering paying a visit to my acupuncturist as well. I'd prefer to let things unfold even more naturally than that, but with that 38 week deadline looming closer and closer, I'm ready to get creative! I know every hour in utero counts and I really want the boys' to decide when their stay there should end. That said, I am so, soooo uncomfortable, so if they felt like coming, oh, I don't know... now, I wouldn't be terribly disappointed or anything. :-)
Just for fun (or terror), here's a picture of my belly from yesterday. This is what a 47cm uterus full of 12ish pounds of baby (maybe more?) looks like on a 5'2" frame.
Sorry for the epic post. There's just a lot going on right now and I want to capture it all before things get crazy around here, which could happen at any moment!
Saturday, May 5, 2012
branching out
I have an annex! Check it out over here.
Here's the backstory: I intended to move my whole blog over to Wordpress before the twins' arrival so that I could do a password-protected post with their names and pictures once they come. I finally sat down to tackle the project this afternoon and after importing 466 posts and while spending an hour or two trying to make the new digs look halfway decent, I found that I hate Wordpress. So, I deleted all 466 posts and decided to use it to house only those items I want to put behind a password - probably just photos (hence the name Media Nest) but maybe other things too. We'll see. I may make the big move sometime down the road if I figure out a way to make peace with Wordpress but in the meantime, I'll keep everything else here (and publicly viewable) and just give you all a heads up when there's something new to see over there.
So about that password... If you want it, shoot me an email at romancingthestork [at] gmail. I will be happy to share the password with anyone who is (a) a current or past commenter on this blog, (b) a fellow blogger who doesn't mind sharing the link to their online abode, or (c) someone I have some other connection to. If you don't fall into any of those categories, PLEASE don't take offense. I'm just feeling a little anxious about my internet exposure these days.
I can't wait to introduce you all to our newest family members!
Here's the backstory: I intended to move my whole blog over to Wordpress before the twins' arrival so that I could do a password-protected post with their names and pictures once they come. I finally sat down to tackle the project this afternoon and after importing 466 posts and while spending an hour or two trying to make the new digs look halfway decent, I found that I hate Wordpress. So, I deleted all 466 posts and decided to use it to house only those items I want to put behind a password - probably just photos (hence the name Media Nest) but maybe other things too. We'll see. I may make the big move sometime down the road if I figure out a way to make peace with Wordpress but in the meantime, I'll keep everything else here (and publicly viewable) and just give you all a heads up when there's something new to see over there.
So about that password... If you want it, shoot me an email at romancingthestork [at] gmail. I will be happy to share the password with anyone who is (a) a current or past commenter on this blog, (b) a fellow blogger who doesn't mind sharing the link to their online abode, or (c) someone I have some other connection to. If you don't fall into any of those categories, PLEASE don't take offense. I'm just feeling a little anxious about my internet exposure these days.
I can't wait to introduce you all to our newest family members!
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
mayday
Several months ago, I started answering the "when are you due?" question with, "technically, the first week in June, but it's twins so I'm just hoping to make it to May." Sometimes that seemed like a realistic goal; sometimes it seemed downright impossible that I'd be able to keep them in that long. But, here we are! May 1st (34w4d) and two boys still baking away in the oven.
I had another OB/MFM double-header yesterday. OB was first and my should-take-40-minutes NST took an hour and a half, mostly because Baby A decided to take a nap through his 20 minutes of fame and then some. Such a diva. My fundal height was a whopping 45cm. The swelling in my feet and legs is out of this world, but my blood pressure is good (hanging out around 110 over 70) and no protein in my urine, so no red flags and we're still on a weekly visit schedule. The extended NST made me late for my growth scan, but fortunately they were able to work us into the afternoon without much waiting around. The ultrasound went really well. I confessed my fear that we were going to get a delivery room surprise of one of the babies being a girl (in which case I have already gone on record with M of needing a full week to decide on a name, since we haven't had one single conversation about girl names in months). I know it sounds crazy given all the ultrasounds we've had, but they haven't really looked at That Area since our anatomy scan at 18 weeks, so... The sonographer checked to put my mind at ease - two boys, no question. Baby A is estimated at 4lbs, 11oz and Baby B is estimated at 5lbs, 10oz. Also, Baby B has turned head-down! My OB felt around just last week and guessed that he'd gone from transverse to breech, but even if that was true then (which seems unlikely, given his size), it's not the case anymore. Both of their heads were very close together and very low, which explains a lot about how (not) well I've been getting around lately. Two head-down babies bodes well for trying for a VBAC. Baby B's head measuring 2.5 weeks ahead of schedule... not so much. Yup, for the second growth scan in a row, Baby B's melon is off-the-charts huge. I asked my OB whether we should be worried about it and she did a so-so job of suppressing her chuckle while reminding me that identifying signs of things like hydrocephalus is pretty much all the sonographer and MFM do with their years and years of schooling and experience, and some people are just born with big heads. Point taken.
I went in to work on Sunday so I could take advantage of the vacant office and silent phone to wrap things up there, so I'm officially on maternity leave as of yesterday. I had some guilt about checking out "early." I know that working to 34 weeks with twins is nothing to scoff at, but part of me just felt like without any activity restrictions in place, I shouldn't voluntarily sign myself out until I have to. The last couple of days have confirmed for me that I did the right thing. I am in no shape to be working right now. I'm hoping most (all?) of why I'm feeling SO lousy is the terrible cold I managed to pick up last week. My throat feels like it's on fire, every square inch of my head is aching from pressure, and I can't sleep for more than 15 minutes without waking up in a coughing fit. (Not sure how many of you have experienced a coughing fit with your abdomen stretched around a 45cm uterus, but it is a rare treat, let me tell you.) I could really use a little burst of energy right now to finish some pre-baby errands and house chores, and I'm hoping banishing this cold will bring it, but we'll see. I may just be down for the count, whatever that count may be - a day? a week? three weeks?! The unknown sure is tough!
But, we made it to May (phew!), and the babies are within striking distance of 5 pounds. It's a good place to be, so more than anything, I'm just feeling more lucky and grateful than ever.
I had another OB/MFM double-header yesterday. OB was first and my should-take-40-minutes NST took an hour and a half, mostly because Baby A decided to take a nap through his 20 minutes of fame and then some. Such a diva. My fundal height was a whopping 45cm. The swelling in my feet and legs is out of this world, but my blood pressure is good (hanging out around 110 over 70) and no protein in my urine, so no red flags and we're still on a weekly visit schedule. The extended NST made me late for my growth scan, but fortunately they were able to work us into the afternoon without much waiting around. The ultrasound went really well. I confessed my fear that we were going to get a delivery room surprise of one of the babies being a girl (in which case I have already gone on record with M of needing a full week to decide on a name, since we haven't had one single conversation about girl names in months). I know it sounds crazy given all the ultrasounds we've had, but they haven't really looked at That Area since our anatomy scan at 18 weeks, so... The sonographer checked to put my mind at ease - two boys, no question. Baby A is estimated at 4lbs, 11oz and Baby B is estimated at 5lbs, 10oz. Also, Baby B has turned head-down! My OB felt around just last week and guessed that he'd gone from transverse to breech, but even if that was true then (which seems unlikely, given his size), it's not the case anymore. Both of their heads were very close together and very low, which explains a lot about how (not) well I've been getting around lately. Two head-down babies bodes well for trying for a VBAC. Baby B's head measuring 2.5 weeks ahead of schedule... not so much. Yup, for the second growth scan in a row, Baby B's melon is off-the-charts huge. I asked my OB whether we should be worried about it and she did a so-so job of suppressing her chuckle while reminding me that identifying signs of things like hydrocephalus is pretty much all the sonographer and MFM do with their years and years of schooling and experience, and some people are just born with big heads. Point taken.
I went in to work on Sunday so I could take advantage of the vacant office and silent phone to wrap things up there, so I'm officially on maternity leave as of yesterday. I had some guilt about checking out "early." I know that working to 34 weeks with twins is nothing to scoff at, but part of me just felt like without any activity restrictions in place, I shouldn't voluntarily sign myself out until I have to. The last couple of days have confirmed for me that I did the right thing. I am in no shape to be working right now. I'm hoping most (all?) of why I'm feeling SO lousy is the terrible cold I managed to pick up last week. My throat feels like it's on fire, every square inch of my head is aching from pressure, and I can't sleep for more than 15 minutes without waking up in a coughing fit. (Not sure how many of you have experienced a coughing fit with your abdomen stretched around a 45cm uterus, but it is a rare treat, let me tell you.) I could really use a little burst of energy right now to finish some pre-baby errands and house chores, and I'm hoping banishing this cold will bring it, but we'll see. I may just be down for the count, whatever that count may be - a day? a week? three weeks?! The unknown sure is tough!
But, we made it to May (phew!), and the babies are within striking distance of 5 pounds. It's a good place to be, so more than anything, I'm just feeling more lucky and grateful than ever.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
it's gettin' real up in here
We just tested out three carseats across the back row of my compact SUV. It's a tight squeeze but they fit, so that's good.
On the not-so-good side, I may be having the tiniest bit of an anxiety attack over the sight of it. Holy crap. We're about to have three small children, two of which will be newborns. *gulp*
On the not-so-good side, I may be having the tiniest bit of an anxiety attack over the sight of it. Holy crap. We're about to have three small children, two of which will be newborns. *gulp*
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
just the facts, ma'am
Stats from OB appointment on Monday:
Weekly visits and NSTs from here on out. Next growth scan is on 4/30. I made that appointment in, like, February or something and I remember saying "I guess I'll just cancel that one if I've had the babies by then" to the receptionist. I can't believe it's less than two weeks away now. Fingers crossed I make it that far and beyond! My weight seems to have plateaued (I've only gained one pound in the last three weeks - no surprise since my stomach is roughly in my left armpit at this point - have I mentioned I'm 5'2" and short-waisted?) but my fundal height went up 3cm in that same time period, so I guess the boys are growing away in there!
- BP: 100/68
- Swelling: Yep. But nothing too serious or concerning. (Still wearing shoes and my wedding ring!)
- Fundal Height: 41cm
- First NST: Passed
Weekly visits and NSTs from here on out. Next growth scan is on 4/30. I made that appointment in, like, February or something and I remember saying "I guess I'll just cancel that one if I've had the babies by then" to the receptionist. I can't believe it's less than two weeks away now. Fingers crossed I make it that far and beyond! My weight seems to have plateaued (I've only gained one pound in the last three weeks - no surprise since my stomach is roughly in my left armpit at this point - have I mentioned I'm 5'2" and short-waisted?) but my fundal height went up 3cm in that same time period, so I guess the boys are growing away in there!
Monday, April 16, 2012
cranky
I'm feeling restless and moody today, for no good reason. I'm off work and M took E to school this morning (180 degrees out of her way - so big thanks to her) so I didn't get out of bed until 9am. Since then, I've been sitting on the couch watching United States of Tara, stressing over our finances, and making a list of all the crap we still have to do before the babies arrive. (Huh, I take back what I said about not knowing why I'm feeling moody...) I have an OB appointment in a couple of hours and, for the first time, I'm planning on whining a bit. I am just so big and uncomfortable. The frequent contractions I've been having for the past couple weeks seem to have slowed, but they've been replaced by intense low pelvic pressure - no less concerning. In other (related?) news, my previously-lauded chiropractor is (a) just plain too far away, (b) not working enough days/hours to accommodate her patient load, leaving not a single free appointment on one of the days I wanted to get in this week, and (c) dragging her feet on ordering the type of table she needs to treat pregnant women comfortably, despite telling me that she fully appreciates how much she needs one and they ship within 48 hours of being ordered so, hey, it could totally be here by my next appointment, but she just can't bite the bullet because "it's like buying a car!" /vent
For contrast, I should document that we had an AWESOME day as a family yesterday. E helped me make a yummy breakfast of buttermilk pancakes (using my B&B-operating mom's signature recipe), bacon and fruit salad. Then we headed out to run some errands - something I haven't felt up to doing for 2-3 weeks now. Our spoils included a stylin' haircut for E, a new iphone for yours truly, treats from Godiva for all, and Build-a-Bears for Crash and Bash, lovingly chosen and "built" by the big-brother-to-be. (Geez, that last one was some serious cute overload. Let me tell you.) Our days as a family of three are numbered, and it was fun getting out with M and E, enjoying the family we are now instead of being all-consumed with thoughts about the family we're becoming. There were several times that E and I were walking together hand in hand and he was chattering on about this, that, or the other thing and I felt overwhelmed to think our time together will never be this simple or effortless again. Gah, this is supposed to be the happy paragraph. But, even the sad-ish part was still happy. I'm thankful for the relatively quiet moments with M and E, thankful for the 3+ years I've had to get to enjoy him as an only child, thankful for the burst of energy that let me participate in yesterday, and thankful for the pictures taken and memories made.
Update on a couple of things from my last post... I decided to go down to part-time this week. I'm still planning to work 25-30 hours (unless my doctor expresses other plans at my appointment today), but it seems like the right time to start scaling back. My "last day" is tentatively planned for April 27th (34 weeks), but I may move it up or push it back depending on how I'm feeling. The meeting with the lawyer was a bit of a mixed bag, but positive overall. The good news: We don't have to pay double for anything except the amended birth certificates, and she is charging us the same fee for her services that we paid with E ($300 less than her current charge). The bad news: The judge who granted E's adoption - the ONE judge in our county who was willing to handle same-sex adoption cases - has retired. There is another judge who has expressed an openness to hear cases like ours (and has accepted one of our attorney's cases so far, after the judge who replaced the retired judge flat out refused to keep it on his schedule), but this new judge has been really tough to pin down or get responses from. The attorney suspects he may not waive some of the requirements that the last judge did (i.e. home study, publication of intent to adopt) and it's likely this will end up costing us quite a bit more money, time and stress than our last adoption did. Ah, the lengths we go to, huh? All of that said, she's optimistic we will be able to finalize before the end of 2012, so we wrote her a big fat check and she started preparing our paperwork. Once the babies arrive, she'll update the petition to include their names and birth dates, and as soon as their SSNs and birth certificates are received, we'll be able to file. Then, we just wait out the 6 months and tackle whatever ridiculous hurdles the court puts in front of us. I can't believe we're going through this demeaning process again, but glad we're getting off to an earlier start this time.
I've been feeling really introverted lately, hence the lack of blog commenting. I am still reading religiously though, and sending out good thoughts to all of my blogosphere friends!
For contrast, I should document that we had an AWESOME day as a family yesterday. E helped me make a yummy breakfast of buttermilk pancakes (using my B&B-operating mom's signature recipe), bacon and fruit salad. Then we headed out to run some errands - something I haven't felt up to doing for 2-3 weeks now. Our spoils included a stylin' haircut for E, a new iphone for yours truly, treats from Godiva for all, and Build-a-Bears for Crash and Bash, lovingly chosen and "built" by the big-brother-to-be. (Geez, that last one was some serious cute overload. Let me tell you.) Our days as a family of three are numbered, and it was fun getting out with M and E, enjoying the family we are now instead of being all-consumed with thoughts about the family we're becoming. There were several times that E and I were walking together hand in hand and he was chattering on about this, that, or the other thing and I felt overwhelmed to think our time together will never be this simple or effortless again. Gah, this is supposed to be the happy paragraph. But, even the sad-ish part was still happy. I'm thankful for the relatively quiet moments with M and E, thankful for the 3+ years I've had to get to enjoy him as an only child, thankful for the burst of energy that let me participate in yesterday, and thankful for the pictures taken and memories made.
Update on a couple of things from my last post... I decided to go down to part-time this week. I'm still planning to work 25-30 hours (unless my doctor expresses other plans at my appointment today), but it seems like the right time to start scaling back. My "last day" is tentatively planned for April 27th (34 weeks), but I may move it up or push it back depending on how I'm feeling. The meeting with the lawyer was a bit of a mixed bag, but positive overall. The good news: We don't have to pay double for anything except the amended birth certificates, and she is charging us the same fee for her services that we paid with E ($300 less than her current charge). The bad news: The judge who granted E's adoption - the ONE judge in our county who was willing to handle same-sex adoption cases - has retired. There is another judge who has expressed an openness to hear cases like ours (and has accepted one of our attorney's cases so far, after the judge who replaced the retired judge flat out refused to keep it on his schedule), but this new judge has been really tough to pin down or get responses from. The attorney suspects he may not waive some of the requirements that the last judge did (i.e. home study, publication of intent to adopt) and it's likely this will end up costing us quite a bit more money, time and stress than our last adoption did. Ah, the lengths we go to, huh? All of that said, she's optimistic we will be able to finalize before the end of 2012, so we wrote her a big fat check and she started preparing our paperwork. Once the babies arrive, she'll update the petition to include their names and birth dates, and as soon as their SSNs and birth certificates are received, we'll be able to file. Then, we just wait out the 6 months and tackle whatever ridiculous hurdles the court puts in front of us. I can't believe we're going through this demeaning process again, but glad we're getting off to an earlier start this time.
I've been feeling really introverted lately, hence the lack of blog commenting. I am still reading religiously though, and sending out good thoughts to all of my blogosphere friends!
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