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Updated: Congratulations to Maya and her family for the birth of their daughters at 30 1/2 weeks. She hasn't given any information other than to say that she had the babies, but please stop by and congratulate them when you get the chance.
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I am doing slightly better today and am chalking this emotional roller coaster I am on to hormones. I did not go see the babies at all yesterday (insert guilt here, please) because I felt my negative energy would do nothing for them. Isaac went alone which gave him so needed one on one daddy time. He even held Sh.awn for awhile.

I am regularly amazed by my husband. He continues to support me and the babies. It is nice to know that I can rely on him when things get bad. As much as I love him, I am not sure that I believed he would really be there for me when I needed him. I don't know why that is so, but it was. Now I know that he will be. It means more than I can ever really say.

Is.aac stayed home with me today. I think he thought I was going off the emotional deep end, too. We did some crying and worrying about the future of the boys. We talked about how scared he was while I was ill. He finally talked about how he felt when the doctors were talking about exploratory surgery and slicing me from throat to belly button to "see" what was going on. He was there to make sure that they didn't do something that wasn't needed and was strong even though he was worried. He kept track of every person that entered my room, every medication they gave me, and consoled me when I was afraid to be alone. He talked about how he replayed every scenario that could happen in his head while I slept. He stressed about whether having them wait to do a surgery would help or hurt me, especially when I was at my sickest.

I needed to hear him talk about his worries and fears. I am pretty hard on myself as a general rule and have very high expectations for myself. I tend to think that I am the only person feeling doubt and fear, especially when Isaac was being so strong and stoic. Knowing that I am not the only one of us who is scared helped me to put my worries into perspective.

I am trying to focus on my favorite quote, "My tears don't compromise my strength; they never have." A bad day does not make me a bad person or mother, even if I didn't go see the babies. I am still strong. I must be. My husband and babies need me to be. Being strong doesn't mean that I can't cry and worry. Being strong just means that I pick myself up after I am down and continue on.

I don't have to be perfect. That is such a huge relief. No one is perfect, least of all me. It seems so simple really. Why hadn't I thought that through before?

Thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. It helps to hear others' stories and ideas. You truly are wonderful people and I am blessed to have you in my life.

Bad Day

Today has not been the best for me. I have spent the day crying and lying around doing nothing at all. I can't even get myself to go pump. I just don't want to do anything. I haven't ate anything yet, even though I am hungry. I just can't do it for some reason. Hormones? Depression? I don't know.

We went to see the babies last night. I got to hold Sh.awn for the first time. They were changing his bed to an isolette, and I got to hold him while the all the furniture movement was going on. He was nice and threw up some gunk on me. He wasn't very pleased to be taken from me and put into his new bed. He actually cried! It was cute. I did hear today that he was having some apnea issues last night. I am hoping that this doesn't cause him to backslide back to the CPAP.

Ja.son, on the other hand, is back on his vent. I wasn't surprised to see it because he did look like he was working pretty hard on the canula. The doctor said they would try again in another day. I am worried about Ja.son. While I don't like to compare, he seems to be progressing so much slower than his brother. Plus, I worry about how long he is staying on that vent.

I talked to the NICU doctor today because they had head ultrasounds. The news, and the resulting doctor google search, has left me panicked.

Sh.awn has a grade 4 and grade 2 IVH (bleed.ing in his brain). The doctor said the grade 4 bleed was slight, but any bleeding in the brain is a bad thing. Apparently, the bleeds look like they are starting to "organize" and breakdown. But, there may be two cysts that have developed where the bleed was and that would mean brain damage.

Ja.son also has IVH bleeds in his brain. His are grade 3 and the swelling looks like it has enlarged some. The doctor said it was most likely hydrocephalus (sp?). The doctor is hoping the swelling will relieve itself without any further action. We wait for next week's ultrasound before anything will happen. They are also checking the boys' heads regularly for abnormal growth.

Doctor google talks about how serious this is and the probability of brain damage, learning difficulties, cerebral palsy, etc. I am scared to death that my boys will also have one of these conditions. I work with kids, and I know what these things will mean if the boys have them.

I feel guilty that I had them so early and now look what they could be facing. Look what my family could be facing. Somehow, just writing it down makes it so much more real. Now it is written; therefore, it is so.

Was it too much to ask that I have healthy children? Why are we continuing to struggle through more and more uncertainty and challenges? I am not sure I am strong enough to deal with all of the things that may come.

I know that there is nothing written in stone here. I know that there are no guarantees about what this will mean for the boys. The "what ifs" of all of this are wearing on me. I just keep asking, "Why?" anyway.

Two Weeks Old!

Today the boys were taken off of the ventalators and put on cannulas (nose tubes). That is such a huge accomplishment! It was a perfect birthday gift for the boys and us. Plus, we got to hear them grunt and make some noise! They are also enjoying feedings of 1cc of milk every three hours. We are starting to see some differences between the two of them now that we can see more of their faces. We are still having more positive days than bad, and for that I am thankful.

Sh.awn
Sh.awn smiling
Ja.son being grumpy...
...because he is naked!
Ja.son is two weeks old!
Sh.awn is two weeks old, too!

Update...Sort of

I am not quite ready to write about everything that happened during the hospital stay. I plan on breaking it up into two posts, one about the babies' birth and one about the trauma I went through. I am working on it in my head, but haven't been emotionally stable enough (wow the hormones are a killer) to actually write. It is coming soon, though, I promise.

The boys are doing wonderfully. They are getting stronger every day. We even got the chance to hold them yesterday. It was the most wonderful surprise and felt better than mere words could describe! I can't wait until they are here at home, ready for holding all the time!

It has been requested that I post pictures. I had a hard time doing this. I cried so much during the process of putting this montage together. I hope you enjoy...

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Sh.awn and Ja.son Are Here!

I have just come home from a long stay in the hospital (of which I will write about once I get some energy) and am proud to say that my sons Sh.awn Riley and Ja.son Kelly were born by c-section on October 27 at 3:31 and 3:32 am. The boys were both 2 pounds 14 1/2 ounces abd 15 1/4 and 15 inches long respectively. I was 28weeks and 3 days.

There have been some bumps in the road, but the boys and myself are all doing well. We take it each day at a time, but that is how it is in the NICU. I will post again tomorrow to give you more information.

Thanks to everyone for the concern and prayers. Please continue to keep my boys in your thoughts...

A Strong Person...

I used to be strong. Not physically, but emotionally. I always felt like I could handle anything that came my way. Stressful things never defeated me. I would just think and plan through any obstacles. I was proud of that. It made me feel capable and steady.

Now, I am not strong. I am weak, and each day proves to me over and over again how weak I really am.

Gone is my confidence.

Gone is my ability to overcome obstacles with ease.

Gone is my willingness to tackle what comes my way.

Now, I just want to run and hide. From everything. Everyone. I am tired and beat up and done with it all. I have no strength left.

It isn't pleasant to be in this place, but here I reside.

The time since my last post has been so draining and difficult.

On Monday of last week, my grandfather passed away. He had been ill, so this wasn't totally unexpected, but it hurts all the same. The worst part was that I knew from the second I heard the news that I would not be able to attend his funeral. I am on bed rest. I feel incredibly guilty about it. I realize that no one would ever expect me to jeopardize the safety of the babies to go to the funeral. In fact, I had several family members call me and stress that they didn't want me there. Still, not being able to attend the funeral, hug my grandmother and mother, and just be with the family on an occasion like this was almost too much. I let them down.

Then, on Wednesday, I woke up with the need to go to the restroom. The urge was incredible, and woke me up from a sound sleep. Before I could make it the ten or so steps to the bathroom from the bed, fluid started rushing out of me. I couldn't get it to stop. When I finally reached the toilet, I sat there, with fluid still streaming out, in a complete panic.

I tried to tell myself that it was incontinence. Just one more thing to add to the list of pregnancy issues I have wracked up or something. Shaking and filled with dread, I just sat there waiting for it to stop.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the water gush stopped. I got up to go clean myself up when the second gush started running down my legs. In tears, I made it to the phone to call my husband.

My stomach was lopsided. My right side was squishy and soft. I was so scared because everything was crashing down around me at that very moment. I must have done something to make this happen. I had let the babies down, too.

My husband came home and took me to labor and delivery. We didn't even know where it was. During the walk down the halls of the hospital, I had a third gush of fluid, which filled the pad I was wearing and again started to stream down my legs. It was horrible.

I was admitted to labor and delivery, attached to monitors, and an iv was started. They tested me and found that I was positive for fluid although I wasn't "pooling" fluid (which was good). I was having contractions that I wasn't feeling and was given a shot of terbutaline. Antibiotics were started and I had the steroid shot series to strengthen the babies' lungs. A technician from Dr. Doom's office came to scan the babies. We were told that I had lost fluid for baby A, but it looked like there was still sufficient fluid left.


I was hooked to the monitors for 48 hours straight. My contractions stopped relatively soon after the terb shot thankfully. I was given antibiotics every four hours to prevent the onset of infection, and we waited.

We prayed.

I got that scary speech about the odds if I delivered early. They would most likely survive, but they were at risk for blindness and brain issues. Plus we were told that boys are often weaker and experience more complications than girls.

We continued the waiting and praying.

The thought is that I had a tear in baby A's outer sac which may have healed over to stop the amniotic fluid loss. They did allow me to come back home on Saturday--back to bed rest. However, I continued the heavy duty antibiotics (every four hours) to prevent infection. I still leak something (not sure if it is fluid or urine) all the time, but the babies are looking okay so far. Scary as heck to go through this...

This week's OB appointments (I have been there twice) have discovered another infection, most likely brought on by the heavy antibiotics, and major hemorrhoids (sorry for tmi) to which even the doctor said, "Whoa!" when he saw them. I have been in MAJOR pain all week.

Tomorrow is a visit to Dr. Doom to reevaluate the babies and their fluid levels.

My confidence is gone.

I am weak and scared to death that something else will happen.

A Hard Day

This week has been filled with doctor visits. On Monday, I had a regular OB visit. These visits are pretty boring if you ask me. I go in, pee in a cup, they check my weight and blood pressure, and the doctor comes in to dopplar me. There is no ultrasounds to watch, no cooter cams, no "main event" so to speak. I did get a prescription for yet another UTI. Woohoo. Wild day.

Of course, I had to take a nap after the excursion...getting off of the bed really exhausts me now-a-days!

Yesterday we had another appointment with doctor doom. Again, I was up the night before, unable to sleep. I always worry that this place will give me some other bad news to add to the list. My husband had planned to come home to get me and then go with me to the appointment (like usual). This is kind of an inconvenience for him because he has to back track to our house a little to get me and then go back the same way to get to the doctor doom's. I am not supposed to drive, though, so this is how it has got to be.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get home from his work. It takes us exactly 1/2 hour to get to doctor doom's office when all of the traffic gods are lined up in our favor. I had asked my husband to get home a little earlier than that so I didn't feel so rushed.

(This is the story of my husband's life. He is NEVER early for anything and it drives me crazy. I am the kind of person who likes to have some breathing room before an appointment/event so I leave early. He thinks that if it takes 30 minutes to get to the doctor's appointment, then you should leave your house 30 minutes before the appointment.)

Well, he wasn't home early, and it isn't that I really expected him to be. It would have been nice, but I wasn't really going to complain about it. I called him to see if it was about time for me to start heading outside so we could just leave when he got there. This is the conversation we had...

Me: "Hey. Where are you?"

Him: "I am on ----." (still a good 15 minutes away from our house)

Him: "Shit...."

Me: "What!?"

Me: "The appointment is scheduled for 3:45! What is going on?"

Him: "Nothing. I'll be right there."

Two seconds later, he calls back to say...

Him: "Call your mom and see if she can take you down there. I'll meet you there. We'll never make it on time if I come to get you."

Me: "I can't call my mom. She isn't home. You were supposed to take me so she is off running errands!"

Him: "Well, you'll just have to drive yourself then."

With no other options, I grabbed my keys and took off.

This was the first and only time I've driven in five weeks. The driving itself was no problem, but I was having a lot of trouble breathing. The seats in my car are not comfortable, never have been, and never will be. Plus, it is a manual transmission. So, needless to say, I was getting quite worked up about the whole thing.

And, the traffic gods were not in my favor, of course.

So, I get to the appointment about 15 minutes late. Exhausted. Pissed. Still stressed about the appointment itself. Did I say PISSED?

The funny thing about appointments is that when you are late for yours, you have to wait until they can fit you in. That took a total of one hour. Yes, one hour. I sat for most of the time until the waiting room cleared and I was able to lay on their very uncomfortable couch.

So much for bed rest.

We did get to have our favorite ultrasound technician. That was a plus. She is just really good about walking us through what we see on the screen and she immediately tells us when things look normal or not. That is a tremendous relief.

The boys are doing well. Both are still ahead in growth. They are definitely cramped now, too. Both are 1 lb 14 ozs. Fluid is good. Cervix is holding for the most part. It went down to 1.3mm from the 1.4-1.5mm it was the last time. All in all, things are looking as good as can be expected.

Dr. doom came in and said that he really wants me to get to at least 29 weeks. I think he wants to start 'roiding me then. He doesn't really want to do it before then unless I have some turn for the worst. He said that both babies would most likely live at this point, but the possibility of brain issues or cerebral palsy is increased before that time. He also said that if I do have them early that it isn't anything I did to make it happen. That was nice of him. Again, I guess things are going as well as can be expected at this point.

Then I had to drive home. At 5:45 on a weekday. In southern California. Not fun.

I think I cried the entire way home. I was uncomfortable, tired, and still pissed at my husband.

He took a back road and apparently got home about 10 minutes before me. When I walked in, he was eating chips and watching TV.

Did I say I was PISSED! This did not help matters at all.

I went to bed and cried some more.

Today I am super sore under my ribs and on both sides. And I am still tired. And I am still a little mad. Sigh.