Finding Peace of Mind

I was doing some research online and came across this article by Su.san Je.ffers, Ph.D. (Okay, I'll admit that I was trying to earn more Swag Bucks. I won 22 bucks, so it was worth it. :-) What? You don't look up random key phrases like "ways to look for the good in life" in your free time? Ahem.)

Anyway, the point is that I found this article, and I like what it has to say.

I want to stay "awake." I want continue that feeling I had on the weekend--to embrace the todays and feel good about the tomorrows.

My plan for a while is to take each of the nine strategies Je.ffers suggests and play with it...Explore it...Conquer it...Change my way of thinking...and ultimately rewire this old brain of mine a little bit at a time.

I think I can do this.

I am making this my own little experiment.* When I am done, I hope wonder (look there! I already started using principle number 2!) if this will become a habit. How cool would that be?

Let's begin:

#1. "'Un-set' your heart." Definition: Un-setting your heart means letting go of your picture of how you want it all to be. It means letting go of trying to control things over which you have no control.

Starting with a biggie, huh Je.ffers? It's alright. I can take it.

Je.ffers states that "One of the prime causes of our suffering is our wanting things to be different than they are." I can see how that is the case in my life. Life didn't go as planned, and I clearly didn't get a life that matches the ideals I set for myself. So, it makes sense that the first step to mastering this principle is to figure out what the hell my expectations are.

Part 1: My expectations...

1. ...to have baby making be as easy for us as it seems to be for so many other people.


2. ...to take home my babies straight from the hospital when they are born.


3. ...to have healthy children.


4. ...to be able to play ball with my kids outside.


5. ...to feel connected to and loved by my husband.


6. ...to be blissfully unaware of the bad things life can bring.


7. ...to live normally and have a family like everyone else.


8. ...to be able to do it all--and do it all well.


9. ...to have both my parents enjoy their long awaited grandchildren.


10. ...to not have to fight so damn hard for what seems like everything.


11. ...to have my confidence and not be so afraid of so much around me.

There are many more, I am sure. I might just continue to add them as they come to me over the next several days. These listed are just the ones that immediately popped into my head as I was sitting here writing.

Part 2: Now that I am thinking about the ideals I had created in my head, the next step is to un-set my heart from the reality that I imagined--and can't achieve. That's easier said than done.

I guess I first need to work on realizing that I can and do have now (or the opportunity for) a version of everything I have listed above.

I never really thought about it like that. Um, that is a pretty mind blowing thought right there.

I can and do have a version of everything I have listed above...

Really?

Seriously?

Why hasn't that occurred to me before?

I don't have to drop my expectations, just redefine them to something workable with the life we have now.

Whoa.

Now I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings when I explore this topic further!

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*Anyone else wanna play along? Let me know. Shoot, all I need is a nifty badge and we'd be all set!

Such Is the Way of the Universe

I had been feeling all positive and...dare I say happy? this weekend.

Then, Whammo.

The universe, true to form, has dealt another blow.

Little No.ah passed away this morning.

I am in tears for them.

I need to figure out what I can do for them...



I am back to being shaken and unsure--afraid of the ugly side of life.

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I am home today. It just worked out that way. (I can't imagine holding my shit together in front of 130, 7th and 8th graders.)

Last night my back started hurting and the left side of my uterus is sore, especially if I try to lie on my right side. Not sure if I pulled a muscle or it is something more. This morning I have the intense urge to go to the bathroom only to produce two or three drops. When I get up to leave, I feel like I have to go again immediately. There's no pain or burning.

Good news is after a slow start today, the baby is back to moving and kicking. Whew.

I am going to be safe and not sorry, so I have a call into the OB to get checked out.

I don't need any more whammos.

Updated: Bladder infection. 5 days of antibiotics. If I don't feel better in 2 days, I go back.

I Finally Woke Up

Over the weekend, I woke up.

Not in the "Hey, I woke up this morning and and gee. Look. It is raining outside!" sense of the word. Instead, I finally looked around and felt that huge WTF? sensation.

I woke UP with the clear realization of all we've been through to get here.

IF. 3 IUIs. 3 IVFs. 2 m/cs. The boys! Bed rest. Prematurity. Hydrocephalus. Shunts. A lot of surgeries. Death. Therapies. CP. 3 FETs. 2 more IVFs. Another m/c. Another cerclage...

And now 21 weeks pregnant and praying with all I've got I don't deliver early again--half believing that I may actually make it to term! while torn that I am going to lose everything tomorrow...just because that is how life can be.

Silly, isn't it? I mean, I know everything we went through to get to where we are today. I can list it without missing a beat. You should hear me talk when I discuss our medical histories with a doctor at one of our appointments. Oh, how I know exactly with what we've dealt.

I also knew I already felt the last several years in ways that continue to surprise me.

But I guess I've never really allowed myself to digest the enormity of it all and how these events have changed me.

And changed me they have--in some ways positively. In many ways negatively.

At the time, I am sure not really thinking about what was happening was a good thing. If the momentum that propelled me forward had somehow stalled, there is a good chance that I may never have been able to start myself up again. My tactic during the times I felt sad or fearful or unsure, was to berate myself until I was "over" it. I actually convinced myself that I was incredibly weak to feel like I was feeling then.

I convinced myself that others who experienced these types of events handled things so much better than I ever could. I never allowed myself the option of thinking that I might have been going through a shitstorm that most people never have to endure in their entire lives, much less the idea that others would struggle through it.

That was how it had to be for me to survive. I had to move on to the next thing. There was no other way, and there was certainly no other choice in the matter.

Merely surviving is such a crappy way to live for sure. Yes, it is necessary when we are in the trenches of the major challenges in life. Necessary, but it sucks.

It is sad to me that I was in that place for so long. It is even sadder now that I realize how just surviving has colored the moments of that time.

I have many very vivid memories of our life over the last few years. Of those memories, though, most of them are not of sweet moments like a first smile or some other such milestone of the boys. There are not many of loving moments with Is.aac.

I know those moments happened. I have pictures and videos to prove it! I am even there in the pictures and videos, smiling and happy. I am sure I felt those emotions at the time.

But...

Most of the vivid memories I have from the time are tied to sadness. To overwhelming fear. To shock and horror.

Such an awful realization to have, you know.

It was the kick in the butt I needed to move forward.

Finally.

My boys are three and I've spent a majority of their first years being afraid of the yesterdays...the todays...and especially the surprise of tomorrow.

So I've decided to wake up.

I don't want to be that way any longer.

I don't want to be afraid of what will be.

I want to enjoy the now!

I.

Am.

Ready.

Now I need to work on how to get there--how to find the joy. While I have plenty of experience looking for the other end of the spectrum, I am a little (or a lot) rusty on how to focus on the positives.

To start, I am forgiving myself for the boys' pregnancy, their birth, and what they endured because of their prematurity. (That is not to say I won't slip from time to time. You'll help me during those times?) Each time I have one of those negative thoughts, I will counter it with at least one positive thought about how AWESOME they are now to help remind myself of how lucky we are.

I am releasing myself from the self imposed punishment with the knowledge that I did the best I could at the time through all of those events.

I will find at least one thing to celebrate each and every day. The logistics of how I am going to record that (because I need to have some sort of accountability if I'll stick to this and not slip back to the old habit) is still playing in my mind. Any ideas?

The Mom Competition

From what I can tell, these videos come from this blog. I am not sure if they created the videos orginially or are just the ones to upload them to the Tube.

But, this one cracked me up, too. It does seem that moms are in some sort of eternal competition of who parents best or who has the "best" children. I hate these wars...but I can laugh at them when I see it in action!

Moms of Multiples Are Freaks of Nature

This cracks me up. :-)

I've had some strange conversations in my time...thankfully they are not too bad now that the boys are a bit older and look less and less alike. I wish I would have played it as cool as the woman here, though.

A Lot About Nothing...

• Is.aac just cleaned the kitchen counter and used a gallon and a half of 409. Now I am hiding in the bedroom trying to breathe. Does it really take that much 409 to clean the kitchen? I think not.
• Yes, I know that some of you may hate my guts because my husband is cleaning the kitchen. He is very sweet. I am very lucky. And still a tad annoyed that I can't breathe.
• Ahem.
• I have a half day at work tomorrow. I am ready for it. It always seems when I have a short week at school, all the normal amount of crazy has to fit into a smaller number of days. It. has. been. a. week.
• My boys are working on driving me crazy. Today I had to have both of them sit in time outs a number of times because of their fighting. I thought we had turned that corner and now liked each other. I was wrong.
• I cleaned our bedroom last night. I have decided that we are officially filthy pigs. Yuck. It's just that the bedroom is the one place no one sees but us, so I never seem to get to that room to clean. It definitely showed.
• How come the morning comes so quickly? I swear I lay in bed for just a second and the stupid alarm clock is already waking me up for the next day.
• Apparently the kids are starting to talk about me at work. They "think" I may be pregnant, but they are afraid to ask in case I am just getting fat. ("We don't want to hurt her feelings!") It makes me laugh. I can't wait until one of them actually asks me...heh heh heh.
• We are going to get an artificial Christmas tree this year. I think my allergies have finally dictated that the time has come. My plan is to set it up this weekend. We shall see how that goes. I plan to do that every year, but I am lucky to finally get it up before winter vacation.
• I love it now that I just randomly win Swagbucks. Just won one whole buck while I was typing this post! If you don't use Swagbucks, you should try it. I have earned about $80 worth of Barnes and Noble gift cards this year just for using Swagbucks as my search engine (it is run by google and ask.com, so it gives you the same info). If you're interested, you can sign up here. :-) Seriously, it is totally free! Oh, and last year around New Year's they ran a bunch of special deals so you could earn prizes with less "bucks." I totally scored!
• I have Nelly's "Just a Dream" stuck in my head.
• I have pretty wide range of musical taste. I have favorites in just about every genre from country to rap, but if I had to say the one style I identify with most, I'd have to say heavy metal. I know! Me? It goes back to growing up with two much older brothers.
• I was saddened to hear that a coworker lost her 22 year old son to a drug overdose this last weekend. We just found out yesterday. The funeral is the day after Thanksgiving. My heart hurts for her...she had been through so much to help her son. He had even been clean for 8ish months before this. So heartbreaking.
• Couple that loss with No.ah's battle, and well...it seems there is so much loss all around me now. Makes me want to grab my family and hide in a hole somewhere. (No.ah still continues to fight, but he is weaker and weaker every day. Even on 100% oxygen, he is laboring so much to get each breath. I don't think it will be much longer before his little body gives out.)

A Few Follow Up Questions on the Previous Post

There were a few more questions that came up from yesterday's post. note: I am not a doctor, but I did do a lot of research when I was pregnant with the boys. What I am writing here is my take on what I found out...

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From what I understand, choroid plexus cysts are actually fluid filled pockets of space within the part of the brain, the choroid plexus, that makes cerebrospinal fluid for the brain. They usually appear in the second trimester (most people find them during their 18 week scans) and are often gone by the third trimester. These cysts are found on anywhere from 1-3% of all babies and do not affect the baby's brain's function or the baby's personality.

There is quite the debate over these cysts. For some time, these cysts were associated with a higher than average risk of Trisomy 18 (I think the highest I saw was an increased risk of 1:300, although that was from dated data). But, with no other abnormalities to indicate Trisomy 18, many doctors now believe that the risk of miscarriage from an amnio is higher than the risk of a genetic disease. Often, the only recourse needed is to do a thorough ultrasound to check all major organs, etc. and wait/watch. An amnio would come in to play if the detailed ultrasound showed some other abnormality.

I believe that Dr. Doom was under the old school belief that the risk was elevated for Trisomy 18. Then when he couldn't rule out the clubbed foot problem for one of the babies, and I was nearing the 35 age mark, he pushed the amnios.

Had Is.aac and I been the patients we are today (and more prone to research the hell out of EVERYTHING before we agree to a doctor's suggestion), we would have came home and likely not had the amnios done. Besides, by the time we went back for the next ultrasound, the cysts were gone, so the point would have been a non issue then anyway.

As for the guilt, I don't know why I continue to hold on to that. I guess it is my attempt to have a reason...a cause...something...anything to blame the whole clusterfuck that was that pregnancy. Yes, I know the doctor recommended the amnios. Yes, he did tell us the risks. Yes, he was the one in the know and we do have to trust the doctor's expertise to some extent. But, we ultimately made the decision to do it. I end up blaming myself because...at least there is a reason then.

Do I carry that guilt with me at a conscious level on a day to day basis? No.

Do I wish that everything went a completely different way and I had the voice to say no to that amnio that I wish I had? Yes.

Does the guilt still shows up on occasion to say hello? Yes.

I KNOW that I made the best decisions I could make at the time. I really do.

I KNOW I tried everything in my power to keep those boys in me as long as possible.

My heart still struggles there, though. Sigh.

I suppose it is a way to continue to punish myself for my heart's belief that my body failed.

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There hasn't been any conclusive reason to why my membranes ruptured. There are a couple of possibilities: 1) incompetent cervix in itself runs the risk of premature rupture, 2) the emergent cerclage also had the risk of premature rupture (infection was also a possibility, and we were all sick at the end. Don't know if the infection was there to begin with.), and 3) contractions that I didn't feel (I didn't really ever feel them even at the end before I delivered) that led to the rupture. Like I said, I had to have terb several times over that first day I was in the hospital for the rupture. Whether the rupture or the contractions came first is up in the air.

My OB was equally confused as to why Doom was saying to send me home. It makes me think all over again that he had really written that pregnancy off as unsaveable.

Sadly, I would have went home, too, had the OB not fought to keep me there. Thank goodness for him...he saved the boys with that call. I believe that with all of my heart.

This time, I will have the first course of steroids at 24 weeks as a precaution, with another series later in the pregnancy.

We're pulling out all the stops.

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I have a hard time with the memory of Doom's continued comments on whether the boys were genetically normal. I do think it directly affected how he dealt with my pregnancy the entire time. I strongly believe that he would not have "helped" us had one of the boys been genetically abnormal. Is.aac feels that way, too.

I don't get that feeling from him this time, though...his office hasn't even bothered to call me about the results from the screenings. I have to ask. It's almost like they don't even care what the results are now. (although I am sure that the results are there for them to check before we speak to anyone) It's strange. It doesn't make me trust him any more than I would have otherwise, though.

I feel he is one of those "fair weather friends" who is wonderful as long as all is going well. As soon as a complication starts to brew, I am sure he will be completely different. Sigh.

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Thank you for asking the questions. This really helps me clarify some things in my own mind, too.

The "punishing myself" part was an eye-opener...maybe just realizing that will help me combat those thoughts?

The Recap of the Boys' Pregnancy for Those Interested

or alternately titled "Why I Am So Damn Paranoid This Time Around..."

I had a question about my last pregnancy in the comments of my last post. I started to address the question there, but it turned out to be a lot longer than I expected! I figured it deserved a post all its own. (plus it gives me something to write about tonight) I hope when I write it all out, it will actually make sense.

Here is the comment from Roccie:

Hey Stacie. I want to ask you some questions that might be painful to relive. Can you help me understand what the challenges were for the twins that started at 20 wks? Was it the level II ultrasound?Are there posts you can direct me to so I can build an understanding?If I am overstepping my bounds, please let me know. I just think we are so alike,that sharing the information might feel like healing. When I can offer my experiences with severe genetic anomalies, it helps.

You are by no means overstepping any bounds here. Actually it is a good question. I am sure there a lot of people who have no idea why I am so freaked out by things this time.

Here is the drama in a nutshell:

I was referred to Dr. Doom, the perinatologist, by my RE because I was on the cusp of AMA and a twin pregnancy. My first scan with Doom was at 12 weeks. At that point, other than thinking the guy was incredibly strange it went okay. (As an aside, Doom had crazy hair. You know the kind--hair that doesn't seem controlled and sticks out all over the place. It's the kind of hair you see on the mass murderers mug shots on television. I told Is.aac that Doom's crazy hair made me worry about him. I should pay attention to those kinds of feelings! I could have saved myself from a bunch of worry.)

At my 16 week scan, Doom found that both boys each had two choroid plexus cysts on their brains, each boy had one in each hemisphere. The cysts were rather large, and let's face it, no one wants to see big black holes in what you know is your babies' brains. He led us to believe that this is a huge marker for Downs (although I have since found that it is a soft marker that is greatly disputed). One of the babies (Ja.son) also had what was believed to be at least one clubbed foot. It wasn't clear because of how he was holding his foot, though. While we went into that appointment with no desire to do any genetic testing outside of the normal screens (which came back normal at first tri), we were scared enough to have amnios done on both babies. Afterward, I started having what I considered to be Braxton Hicks contractions fairly often--nothing regular and they did not hurt, but I had them often enough to make me call Doom. He said it was BH and he'd check me at my next scan in 4 weeks.

Fast forward to 20 weeks, my cervix had shortened from over 4.0+ to 1.2 and had funneled. Sh.awn's foot was kicking at my cervix. With each kick, my cervix moved. That was bad news. Doom contacted my regular OB, scheduled my rescue cerclage for the next day, told me he hoped we'd make it to 24 weeks (but did say that I didn't have great odds at that), and generally traumatized us both. He did give me P17 shots, but said he didn't think it would make much difference to the outcome. The good news was that the cysts were gone, but I felt like all of this started because of an amnio I never really needed... I knew in my heart the boys would be fine, but I allowed myself to be frightened into doing a procedure I didn't really want. (cue guilt)

Had cerclage done by my regular OB and went home to strict bed rest--up only to pee and shower for 10 minutes or less every other day.

Every week we went back to Doom who still predicted dire results...we were just waiting until I delivered any day in his eyes. (at least it felt that way)

26 weeks exactly saw my membranes rupture. I knew what it was immediately. There was no possible way I could have had that much fluid in my bladder. No way at all. When you add in that one side of my abdomen had deflated and I was clearly lopsided when I looked down, it was pretty clear in my mind. I called Is.aac, and we headed off to L&D.

Doom had a tech meet us there to do an ultrasound. Fluid was lower around Baby A, but still on the low end of normal. Doom came in later to check me, but said that I did not rupture my membranes and I should go home.

My OB, on the other hand, actually did an internal and confirmed that he found ferning (a pattern that can be seen with a microscope when estrogen and amniotic fluid mix together and cause salt crystallization). He's the one who gave me the steroid shots and admitted me into the hospital to make sure I had the entire series. During that first night, I was given shots of terbutaline to stop contractions I never felt.

The contractions stopped so I was sent home with heavy duty antibiotics to ward off infection. I was scheduled for another Doom visit at the end of that week.

At 27 weeks, 3 days, I went back to Doom for another ultrasound. There he found that Baby A indeed had lower fluid (duh) and confirmed that I likely ruptured the last week (duh) and sent me back to the hospital to be admitted.

There I sat...well, lay in bed for another week before I delivered the boys. We all were pretty sick from some sort of infection that had set in after my membranes ruptured.

So that is pretty much the story. I don't trust Doom, as I am sure you can see why. Unfortunately, he is the ONLY peri within an hour of us.

I don't exactly trust my body either, again I'm sure you can see why.

As for the dates of the posts that refers to all of this stuff, the posts are between August 2007 to October 2007.

**Updated - I made Is.aac read this to make sure I got the details right. He said I pretty much did, but I didn't convey the fear that we lived in constantly during that time. He's right. I didn't. Doom was so, so negative every single time we saw him. It was a really hard time. Blah.

He also reminded me that I left out that Doom asked the tech every single appointment if the boys were genetically normal. We always had the impression that the only reason Doom gave a damn (if you can call it that) was because both of them were genetically normal. Had one or both not been...well, I don't think we would have gotten much help from him at all. Makes me sad to think about that.

Did You Hear It?

That giant exhale at about 2:53 pm Pacific time?

It was me!

Dr. Doom's appointment went really well. (gasp!) Baby is looking really good. It seemed like he was trying to wave his penis in just about every shot we looked at today. He is quite the exhibitionist it seems. :-)

But the best news is that my cervix is long and closed! Cerclage is holding strong.

Everything went so well, that I go back in three weeks. It would have been longer, but he'll be out of town and he wanted me to get checked before he took his vacation.

Yay!!!

Dr. Doom was all positive and cheery. It made me feel a bit like I had stepped into some sort of body snatchers situation, though. I am not used to positive and cheery from him. I had to resist the urge to check if there was someone behind me that he was talking to instead.

Whew. I have officially made it past the scary mark. (I was 20 weeks exactly when all hell broke loose with the boys)

Maybe this will work out okay?

I did not sleep well last night. I woke up late this morning and had a headache all day long. This, I am told, made me quite the crab.

I just can't quite get everything that is going on around me out of my head long enough to fully relax. :-(

It didn't help that grades were due today (and no I wasn't ready), people are just being plain stupid at work (and by people, I mean the adults-grrr), and the boys had an opthamologist appointment that the office wouldn't postpone for 15 minutes so I wouldn't have to take an entire half day off of work to make it to on time. That one really frustrated me because they swore up and down that the two hour time slot we had scheduled was just barely going to be long enough to finish their appointment. Its interesting how we had a whole 45 minutes to spare when the appointment was finished, and that was after WAITING for 45 minutes. So yeah. I might have been a tiny bit grumpy with them, too. Ahem.

It's funny how things just sort of pile up on a person when she is feeling low.

By the time this evening finally rolled around, I had thrown my hands up in defeat. If you can't beat the mood, wallow in it, right?

On the plus side, I now have a nice big batch of double chocolate brownies baking in the kitchen. I can't wait to sink my teeth in those bad boys. I am sure that will lighten my mood.

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My OB appointment went well yesterday. I got the final results from my screenings. I am now at a 1:56000 chance of Trisomy 18 and 21. Can't beat those odds, if I do say so myself. (My OB laughed at me and said he thinks those are the highest numbers he's seen. Then he called me an overachiever. Who me?)

Baby's heart rate sounded good. It is such a reassuring sound!

I asked his thoughts on my cervix. I let him know how worried I was when I heard the measurements two weeks ago. I teased him and told him he should have wrapped the cerclage a lot higher--say around my throat. Then I wouldn't have to worry about it now.

He seems to think that my cervix is holding steady. According to his charts, my cervix only started at 3.0 (although I thought it was 4), so staying in the 2.4-2.8 range for me is pretty good and borders on what they would consider normal. I decided I am going to believe him and not over analyze everything for the time being. My sanity needs me to!

He also said he was ready to sign my disability note whenever I want. Had I asked for it, he would have signed it yesterday--not that he thought I was in danger of bed rest or anything for a while. I'm getting special treatment, that's for sure.

I'll admit that the possibility of going on disability threw me some. I keep thinking in my head that this time I am going to get to be "normal." I haven't quite decide what "normal" means, but I do know that "normal" people don't go out on disability when they are not even 20 weeks. Do they?

They don't, right?

I didn't think so.

Tomorrow is my Dr. Doom visit. I am worried about it, like usual. It has been a long hard week, which means I haven't been resting as much as I had been doing. I hope that doesn't translate to shortening or funneling.

Wish me luck...

Spent

We went to visit. I ignore the place at the other end of the long hallway, instead focusing on why we are there.

The thing that instantly struck me is that there were no monitors attached to his little body.

Only an IV and his nasal cannula.

No need to monitor his vitals any more I suppose...

The reality of the situation rips at my heart.

It is so, so WRONG. It shouldn't be this way!

He is such a sweet, tiny little guy.

He is struggling to breathe, his chest contracting with every breath. He hasn't really opened his eyes today.

I hold him for a little bit to introduce myself. I snuggle his body close to mine while smelling his sweet little baby scent. Let him know how much his family loves him and that people from all over the world are praying for him.

It's all so wrong.

We talk and even manage to laugh about a few things. There are some pictures a photographer had taken of No.ah yesterday. He was so alert just twenty-four hours ago! So different from what he is like today.

I hug my neighbors before we leave...

Tell them that we continue to pray--for No.ah. For them. We are here for them whenever.

It feels like there is much more to say except I can't for the life of me figure out what that is. More people arrive, so there is no time to think about it anyway.

We don't say much about the visit on the way home. My SIL is at the house, and I can feel that I am on the edge emotionally. I don't want to let my emotions out until I have a chance to be alone and process. He is struggling as much as I am, I think.

She finally left a half an hour ago.

And now it is time to cry.

Little No.ah

From what I understand, little No.ah has been sent from the NICU in the big children's hospital to hospice care at our local hospital. The details of what is going on with him is still fuzzy to me--and there is no way I am going to go over there to probe them for more!--but from what I can piece together from snippets here and there, No.ah had a muscle biopsy back in mid September. The results from the biopsy, which was for the most part forgotten about, came back last week and indicated that No.ah has some sort of terminal disease. "Cancer" was never said, so I am not clear on what the terminal disease is exactly. There really is no idea on how long he will be able to hang on, it could be days or months.

In the end, it doesn't really matter why...all that matter is that he's leaving this earth far too soon.

Is.aac and I will be going to spend time with our neighbors and finally meet No.ah tomorrow or Thursday at hospice. The day will depend on whether they are able to find child care for their other two little ones at home. Our neighbors want us to meet No.ah, and we are both honored that they want to share him with us in person.

I have to be honest and say that I need to find some inner strength to be able to do this visit. It isn't because of actually seeing No.ah makes me nervous. I am glad I'll be able to celebrate No.ah's life with our neighbors and help keep his memory alive/support my neighbors.

Instead, it is because the hospice area he's at is just down the hall from the NICU our boys were in for so long.

I am struggling with that part...

and freaking out about it a bit.

Or a lot.

This Boy...

...is officially 3 in all its glory.

There's good sprinkled in among the terror, sure.

He's quite the linguist and does not stop talking during the day. At. All. His use of the various parts of speech blow me away. Sometimes I think he has a better command of English than my 7th graders do!

He knows just about every type of vehicle out there, and has a new found love of the movie Cars.

He has finally figured out that hugging and kissing his brother are actually GOOD things, and he'll even do so on occasion. (That is much better than the love he had of just shoving him out of the way which was around two weeks ago.)

He is as sharp as a whip. Tell him something once and he will never forget it. (Granted, this can work against me from time to time.)

But, man oh man is this boy stubborn.

He expects things to go exactly as he thinks they should go. Try to do something he doesn't want to happen, and all hell breaks loose. Do I really need to say that all hell breaks loose quite often around here?

Sigh.

This kid is going to be fun.

And I love every minute of it!

On Blogging

Reading my last several posts might make you wonder about how I am really doing. I am, for the most part, okay. I have my moments of utter fear, but I'd like to think that anyone who has gone through what we went through over the years would feel those feelings too.

Blogging is an interesting experience for me. I don't often sit down at my computer with an idea about which to write. Instead, I sit and let the words sort of pour out of me. Granted that means that what you end up reading is usually unrefined and maybe a bit boring, but it is the true me at that given time.

I use this space as my personal diary. It's a place where I can just let it all out there and not worry about what people may think of me. (If you knew me in real life, you'd know that I am not much of a talker as a listener.) I try not to censor what I write, but I am well aware that this is a public space. I really don't want to outright offend someone if I can not, so I have quite a few posts in my dashboard that I've never published. More often than not though, I make a few tweaks and let the words stand for themselves.

Sometimes, what manages to make its way to my computer screen is a complete surprise. I can get so wrapped up in the day to day living, I don't give myself a chance to really think and reflect about things that I see and hear.

Other times, in the process of writing, a light bulb goes off in my head and I'll suddenly understand why a day was as crappy as it was. I'll finally figure out that I was more hurt by something than I might have realized or that an event has triggered my insecurities and fears.

I think I like it that way. I like that I am learning about me through this space.

I made a mistake last week and inadvertently posted a link to this blog on the public family blog. My niece found this space and sent me a text message about things she could have only learned here. I was panicked.

Actually, I was devastated.

I thought for sure I'd have to do something drastic to keep this space away from the eyes of people I did not want to read it.

In the end, I asked her not to read. She said she'd not, but really there isn't much I can do if she decided to go against that promise.

Once again I'm thinking about why I am so reluctant to allow people in my real life to read this space. Yes, people know about it, but very few read here (that I know of).

I don't think I write about things that would be hurtful to people in real life. Yet, I do think that if many people in real life were reading I'd hold back and not be true to myself.

Plus, I certainly don't want them to think I am a total nut job when they may think I have my shit together. My mind wrestles with the idea that it doesn't really matter if they think I am a total nut job anyway, so who cares?

Oh, I don't know.

The one thing blogging doesn't do for me is give me all the answers. Bummer. It would be really nice if it did.

What it can do, though, is allow me to connect with other people in the world (who are much wiser and more brilliant than I could ever hope to be) who have been there before me. So I ask all of you. If you are an anonymous blogger, why do you blog anonymously? If you blog under your name, do you feel you hold back in what you write? I'd love to read your thoughts on the matter.

19 Weeks

Today marks 19 weeks. For those of you who are wondering...

(picture ahead, feel free to pass on this one if you're not up for it)

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It's not as impressive from the side view as it is looking straight down. My view never fails to shock the heck out of me.

Baby Boy is quite active. I've been feeling him regularly since the latter part of week 15. Is.aac's been able to feel him kick this week.

He flipped last weekend (wow that felt strange! the boys were never able to flip) and now has his big ole noggin jammed into my ribs. His feet are kicking away at my poor cervix. I can't decide which way would be better, having the weight of his big head sitting on my cervix or the continuous kicks.

Until now, I was able to get a few pairs of pants in the next size up to wear to work. Sadly, they are all too tight now. I finally broke down and bought some maternity pants for work, but I haven't worn them yet. I am sort of afraid of them actually. I had just got a bunch of maternity pants for the boys' pregnancy when I was assigned bed rest. I ended up having my mom return them all. The irrational part of me hopes I didn't jinx myself this time, too.

OB visit on Wednesday.

Dr. Doom visit on Friday to check cervix.

19 weeks--about half way through should everything go as planned.

13 weeks to my first milestone goal. 32 weeks. Surely I can make that, right?

Control

Thank you for the kind words about the last post. I am doing better emotionally today. I am still a bit fragile, but my head knows that I am doing what I can to give myself and the baby the best possible outcome.


The problem is I feel I've lost control. In my head, a controlled situation is a much safer situation. There are no surprises when things go exactly as planned, which is good because I now equate surprises with danger.


Don't get me wrong. I am smart enough to know I actually "control" very little in my life. There was a time when I thought I was in control. What I didn't realize was that I was only in control because things worked the way my mind thought they should.

It wasn't real, just merely coincidence and a whole lot of stupid luck.

Our lives over the past several years--the IF, the pregnancies and miscarriages, the boys' pregnancy, the NICU, my dad's death...all of it and more--has made that realization very, very clear.


Oh how I miss the feeling I was in control...even if it was only a delusion.


Sigh.

Am I Strong Enough?

I spent the day trying to distract myself from what was happening next door. I cleaned. And cleaned--and probably over did it. But I was never quite able to pull myself out of my head.

And I physically jumped every time the phone rang--my heart sinking with the feeling it was them.

They sent a text at about 10:00pm. He is still alive, but fading. She said that Noah was ready--that they were ready. I've been crying ever since.

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It physically hurts me to see them--when they come home from the hospital or even when I see that their car is gone because I know where they must be. I get a familiar pang of sadness when I see their haunted expressions or hear the latest updates on the baby. Ugh. I can literally feel the emotions of our own experience almost as if I am living them right now.

My neighbor's pregnancy and birth/NICU experience has truly sent my PTSD issues into a tailspin. I suppose it was bound to happen, as you can only bury things for so long before they find their way to the surface. Yet, it surprised me that I was having this effect from watching their experience mirror my own.

I also have to admit that I am not prepared for dealing with these feelings. My impulse is to squash them and push them neatly back into the compartment of my brain from which they came.

Oh boy have I tried to squash them.

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If it can happen to my neighbors, who is to say that something won't happen to us? So, I've been second guessing myself today--afraid of all the negative that can/might happen. Because they do happen, even when it isn't fair.

Should we have tried for another baby?

Should I have been more aggressive and pushed a transabdominal cerclage rather than a vaginal cerclage? What if this cerclage isn't enough?

Should I assign myself to bed rest, even if the dr. doom isn't yet worried about my cervix length?

What if my body fails...again?

Are my worries just fear of the "what can happen" or intuition that I am not fully paying attention to? How do I know the difference? How can I truly trust myself anyway?

Sigh.

I recently told someone who was worried about the risk of another pregnancy that "you just take all the precautions you can. As you know, there never is a guarantee. I suppose there is a lot of faith that goes into that part. But, I will admit that having faith that things will work for you is incredibly challenging when you are used to life shitting on your head."

My faith has been shaken. That familiar fear of being shit on yet again is back. It feels today like it is just a matter of time before my world will shatter apart.

Again.

I wonder if this time I'll be strong enough to pick up the pieces.

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As miserable as I've been all day long, it is nothing compared to what my neighbors are living. Oh how I feel for them...

My Heart Is Heavy

Tonight we got the devastating news that our neighbors' little boy, Noah, will pass soon. There is nothing more the doctors can do for him.

I am heartbroken for his family. Please, if you can send a prayer or two into the universe for my neighbors and their little Noah, do. They will need all the love they can get.

Both Is.aac and I have been in a daze since we heard the news--each of us lost in our own memories of those Very Dark Days when it was such a real possibility that Sh.awn wouldn't make it. That fear and the pain from that time bubbles to the surface in times like these. Our family got lucky and we got our happy ending.

For some cosmic reason, my neighbors' family will not.

It's so unfair...

Random Thoughts on a Tuesday Night

I think I am a walking grump. Call it hormones. Cal it lack of sleep. Call it whatever you want--I don't even want to be around myself nowadays!

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I am pretty annoyed about a parent email I received today. I had spoken to this parent on the phone about my concern about her son. His behavior had taken a drastic turn for the worse over the last seven days. I detailed some of the negative behavior in question. She wrote me an email shortly after we hung up and wrote in essence that something must have changed on my end of things. "Poor student behavior isn't always a result of what's going on at home; there are other factors in the classroom which should be considered as well."

Um, yes Mrs. Wonderparent. I made your child lie, shoved gum into his mouth four days in a row and tricked him into detentions, held him outside my door 5 minutes every day for the last week to make him tardy, and then hid all of his notes/books/paper and forced him to fail his latest test. While I was at it, I must have followed him home and prevented him from doing his homework.

It couldn't possibly be something outside of school affecting his behavior.

Nor could it be that your child "might" be a behavior issue, especially when I know for a fact that you have been contacted by at least four other teachers this MONTH about very similar behaviors.

And yes, lady. I am well aware that we are only on day 9 of said month.

Sigh. I actually wrote all of that in my email response. Then I erased it and sent a simple "Thank you for your support."

**See? I am grumpy. Normally this kind of thing doesn't get to me.

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Ja.son got a little splash happy in the bath tonight. I asked him to stop, but he thought getting me wet was outrageously funny. I got up and walked to the far side of the bathroom, and told him I wouldn't come back until he stopped.

His response: "I am sorry mommy. I am just trying to have a little fun."

Someone shrunk a thirty year old and put him into my boy's body.

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Man I am craving a salad from Olive Garden in the worst way. I must figure out how to get there sometime this weekend so I can have some. mmm...

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I get Thursday AND Friday off this week! I am beyond excited. My mom is going to take the boys on Thursday just like it is a regular workday so I can have a whole day to myself! WoooWhooo!

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I am seriously over Is.aac's snoring. Last night, I lay awake thinking all kinds of evil things about him while he snored away. All I wanted to do was sleep, but I swear the second I would just drift off his snoring would reach a new crescendo. It was maddening. If you read in the papers about me going postal on my husband one night, you'll know why. I was driven crazy by lack of sleep.

Surreal

Sh.awn got a drum set for his birthday. He loves that thing and will bang on it for long periods of time. I watch him in awe...because now he uses both of his arms to hit the drum pads rather than just one. Oh how I love to watch him play.

His little face gets so serious. His tongue escapes his mouth to show how deeply involved he is in what he's doing. That tongue helps him concentrate--just as his mommy's tongue did the same when she was little.

Sometimes it is mind blowing to see just how much these little people are like me. As far as I can tell, I don't do that anymore. My tongue now remains securely in my mouth.

And yet, his body somehow knows...

It's surreal.

He's a piece of me--a link to the past and yet at the same time filled with such promise for the future.

We're Having A...

The results of the poll are pretty divided. As of this post, there were 66 votes: Boy (30) 45%, and Girl (36) 55%

So here it goes. We're having a...

Boy!

I wrote this in an email earlier today.

We found out we're having a boy. I have to admit that I am a bit...torn. It seems wrong to say I am disappointed, but I guess that is a close description of how I feel at the moment. Just saying that makes me feel horrible. What an unfair thing to put on this little baby! How dare I be disappointed that he is not a girl. I'm getting over the feeling slowly. Telling people is helping.I am beyond happy that the baby is healthy. After all, that is by far the most important thing.

Such complicated emotions are tied to this little reveal. Once again, life threw me a curve ball.

I am making my peace with the idea that I will probably never have a little girl. It's hard though...

Sigh.

Worn Out.

Today, my mother-in-law came over.

At 1:00 pm.

Unannounced.

When my house looked as if a hurricane or two had just torn through it.

Because, let's face it, Hurricanes Jay and Sh.awn did just tear through my house.

And she stayed.

Until 7:28 pm.

I know because I was counting the minutes.

The boys had just gone down for their naps.

Only they couldn't sleep with the noise in the living room.

So after an hour I gave up and let them get up.

Let me add that I had not yet brushed my hair today when she came over.

Nor had I changed out of my pajamas.

To be honest, I hadn't even really had a chance to brush my teeth...

But here she was.

For 6 and a half HOURS!!!

HOURS, people!

I am annoyed.

I am worn out.

I am going to bed now.

The Visit With Doom

Dr. Doom, that is.

Overall, it went well, which is not to say that it was outstanding.

Good points:

• First trimester screening results: Trisomy 21 - risk of 1 in 1900. Trisomy 18 - risk of 1 in 4100. Results = screen negative.
• Blood pressure normal. Heart rate normal.
• Weight up 3 pounds in 5 weeks.
• Baby looked great. Growing ahead up to a week and a half in most areas. Length measured in as 20 weeks! What can I say? We make 'em big.
• Heart had four chambers. All looked well.
• Brain/head looked properly formed. No choroid plexus cysts (brain cysts) this time around. Yay!
• Internal organs were where they were supposed to be.
• Stomach and kidneys looked great.
• Baby was sucking a thumb. (Awww...)
• Hands/feet had fingers and toes.
• Fluid levels and umbilical cord looked normal.
• I got and filled my script for P17.
• Cerclage was holding tight.

The doctor said everything looked great with the baby.

The bad:

• Cervix was 2.5-2.8cm and dynamic. Boo. Was told to rest whenever I can, but I was not put on any type of restrictions. (With the boys, I was already at 1.2cm at this gestation.)
• There might have been a slight triangular tip of funneling. BUT...that just might be how my cervix is now. The doctor wasn't too concerned about that at this point. (WTF??!! Not concerned!!??)
• I am now officially worried about IC yet again.
• I go back in two weeks. Can we all just pray that my cervix isn't any shorter? Please?
• Sigh.

We learned the gender! Any guesses?

Free Web poll for your Web site - freepolls.com

I'll give you the answer on Sunday! (I'm mean, I know!)

Words...

Re: Psycho-educational evaluation for Special Education

Evaluators: school psychologists (1 for each) and speech pathologist

Explanation of reason for REFUSAL: "Ja.son appears to demonstrate age appropriate pre-readiness and readiness skills. This includes his speech and language skills. Any physical or medical needs will be adequately addressed through other agencies."

and

Explanation of reason for REFUSAL: "Sh.awn appears to be demonstrating age appropriate cognitive, social, and language abilities at this time. Any physical or medical needs will be adequately addressed through other agencies."

Know what this means?

My boys showed them how awesome they are!

They don't qualify for special education pre-school!!!

Hot diggity-dog! :-)

They saw what I see...

the only thing holding us back is our motor skills...

and with time, we're going to master that, too!

Hallelujah!

You know, reading words like these are absolutely...fucking...amazing!

Failed

So.

I mentioned last week that the boys had their last therapy sessions with Early Intervention. I got their "evaluations" in the mail this week, and I have to say that I was disappointed. I always think they low ball the boys' abilities. Whatever. They. Are. Rock. Stars.

I know what my boys are capable of, and that is what matters at the moment.

Except it isn't. Sigh.

As much as I want to, I can't keep the boys in my protective bubble.

Boo.

After a series of problems with our Regional Center (Early Intervention) we finally got our referral to the local school district for preschool. On Thursday, we take the boys to an "observation" by two psychologists and a speech pathologist to assess whether the boys qualify for services.

I am beyond nervous and a lot freaked out about the whole experience. If I am honest, I'll admit to being teary about it.

My whole being is screaming with the...wrongness of it all.

I hate that there are people whose job it is to pick apart my superheroes and find all of their weaknesses.

They won't focus on what can be done, only on what can't.

Yes, I get that they'll look for where the boys need the most help so they can address those weaknesses.

Yes, I get that (gasp!) these people might actually be able to help the boys achieve even greater things than they might have otherwise.

But, ugh. It feels awful to know that they will once again be judged..set apart...seen as different.

It breaks my heart.

As much as the mind knows I did everything I could--do everything I can to give my boys the best life possible, my heart still questions. It is times like these when the guilt ignites.

When I feel like I have failed them.

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My next appointment with Dr. Doom is Friday. It will be my first cervix check since the cerclage. Every little ache or strange sensation has me worried.

Please let my body be doing what it is supposed to do.

I don't know how I'll handle failing another baby.

Halloween 2010

My little family...

with Super Shawn...

and Captain America himself, Jason.

We had a wonderful Halloween! Hope your family had a fun-filled holiday, too!