tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35492597737790625862024-03-13T21:55:31.093-05:00Like pulling teethWhen people tell me something is "like pulling teeth," I can't help but smile. What a good reminder that I can do hard things, in life and in mouths!Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.comBlogger690125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-20299685639188174202021-05-09T11:11:00.007-05:002021-05-09T11:11:48.047-05:00The Mother's Day Talk I wanted To Hear<p>I have hated church on Mother's Day ever since | was a teenager. Do you think Bishop would have still asked me to speak had he known? </p><p>When I was single (starting even as a young woman) it felt so awkward to receive a flower or chocolate on Mother's Day when I was so clearly not a Mother or trying to be a mother. As a married woman I appreciated the spirit of inclusion more but it still felt inauthentic and a little embarrassing. When I was striving to become a mother, it was a painful reminder | was not a Mother and I felt guilt and shame being praised for the motherhood I wanted so badly. I felt like an imposter. </p><p>After a long and traumatic infertility battle, My first mother's day as a mom I triumphantly walked into church ready to finally enjoy my potted geranium. They didn't mention a thing about mother's that day. The years leading up to that moment I would have rejoiced but that year I was a little let down. I thought I was ready to embrace Mother's Day, finally! </p><p>These days, the Mother's Day talks are a mixed bag of emotions for me. So when bishop asked me to speak I decided I would give a Mother's Day talk I would want to hear. </p><p>Mother's Day can be a hard time for many. Those who have no Mother, who have lost their mother, who have a strained relationship with their mother, had a "bad mother;" those who want to be a mother or even a wife; and even those who are mothers but who may feel shame, guilt, or inadequate to receive the praises heaped upon them every May. </p><p>Whatever your Mother's Day baggage (if you have any or not), I hope to talk more what I have learned about mothers in my own personal journey. </p><p>First, you don't have to have any children or birth children to be a mother. Eve was called the "mother of all living" before she ever begat Cain and Abel. (She also wasn't presumably less than a mother because her oldest slain her younger son! Talk about Mom guilt!) Our motherhood is eternal and the divine qualities of womanhood can be fostered and used in this life regardless of our actual parental status in this life. We are all promised we will have all our righteous desires granted in the eternities and God will wipe away all our tears (Rev 21:4). Elder Anderson taught in the most recent general conference, "The unrealized dreams of life are difficult to understand if viewed only from the perspective of mortality. As the Lord's servant, I promise you that as you are faithful to Jesus Christ and your covenants, you will receive compensating blessings in this life and your righteous desires in the eternal time line of the Lord. There can be happiness in the journey of mortality even when all of our righteous hopes are not realized." </p><p>While it is natural to be heartbroken over the disappointments that come with broken dreams of a perfect motherhood, God wants us to be happy and live full lives. Women are that they may have joy! </p><p>We can foster our maternal gifts in all aspects of our lives. Developing our talents, providing service, and reaching our divine potential are all important in our womanhood. I recently learned while visiting "This is the place monument" in Utah that Brigham Young sent many women to medical school in the 1850's because he felt women were more compassionate and fit to be doctors. A woman started one of Utah's first hospitals to help women and children, especially with the delivery of babies. What wonderful mothering she must have provided through her career! Im not sure if we know about whether she was a parent or not, but Esther acted like a mama bear and the true mother of a nation when she courageously defied her husband, the king, to save her people! We can all bring light and love to the world like good mothers do every day at home, regardless of how many children we call our own. </p><p>Secondly, your ability to bear children has nothing to do with your worthiness in the eyes of the Lord. It is easy to mistake empty arms and hearts as a sign of unworthiness but in my studies I have found many or even most of the chosen women in the scriptures were "barren." One of the most painful things to watch while infertile is babies being born to unfit mothers or being terminated for being unwanted. Clearly a barren womb can't mean anything about worthiness when Sarah the mother of nations had to wait until almost her deathbed to bear a single son while some mothers bring their babies into the world without the desire or ability to care for them. Sarah, Rebecca, and Rachel were all mothers to the nations and God's chosen people despite years of heartache and paradoxically small families. Elizabeth bore the precursor to the savior in her old age. Sometimes we have to wait to see God's promises fulfilled whether in this life or the next or have them fulfilled in a way different than what we had hoped. Hannah asked for a child and in return gave him, Samuel, back to the Lord for His service. </p><p>Emma Smith bore 9 children, 5 who died before adulthood and her twins through adoption died as infants after a mob attack. Sister Wendy Nelsen was single until well past her childbearing years when she married a prophet and now has a family of over 200. I fully believe these wives of the prophets have many blessings to receive in the eternities for their sacrifices and patience. </p><p>Women are vital to God's work. You dont have to bear 5 or more children, homeschool your children with homemade lesson plans fit for a mini Harvard, or make gourmet organic non processed meals every night. Your house doesn't have to be as clean as the temple. your children impeccably behaved, or your abs flat as a washboard. God needs women, even with dirty dishes and stretch marks! The prophet has told us we are vital to his plan. </p><p>Next, Embrace your current stage of life. Look for ways to learn and serve and grow no matter where you are! And look for ways to give yourself a break, some well-deserved kudos, and the confidence you are on the right track. Stop living with regret. Stop forgetting to live because you are waiting for the next baby, or until you get married, or until your kids are in school or your house is clean or you lose 12 lbs. You are enough. You are God's child, His divine daughter, and a daughter of a Heavenly Mother who must be one fierce Goddess! Take the picture, wear the swimming suit, say the nice thought, have the party even though you have dishes in the sink, and learn to say no! </p><p>Sometimes we think we have to fit a certain mold to be good enough. Whether it is cultural or church expectations, it is easy to think we need to marry by a certain age, have a set number of children, and look and act a certain way to be enough. It is easy to compare ourselves and feel less when we don't look like the picture we have in our mind of how things are supposed to be or the ones we see on instagram. </p><p>Ruth was a Moabite woman, an outsider. And a widow. She essentially had no status in her society but had confidence to follow God's path for her by lying at the feet of Boaz, a prominent citizen. Mary was a virgin and became pregnant while betrothed. She could have been cast out of her community but like Ruth, she followed God and bore the line of Jesus. They trusted in their revelations and moved forward in faith and changed the world. </p><p>I did'nt expect to leave BYU unmarried. I thought | would be a stay at home mom with 5-6 kids living in Utah and done bearing children by 30. Instead, I went to 9 years of training after BYU, married in dental school, suffered through years of infertility, had twins at 32 after hundreds of shots and multiple failed medical treatments, and live in the Midwest working as a surgeon. My life is nothing like I pictured but so much better than I ever imagined because I was willing to let Him guide my footsteps. A religion professor told me God wouldn't tell a 20 year old girl to go to dental school. Luckily, that wasn't true and God can tell you where to go if you are willing to listen, even if you are a girl! </p><p>Finally, love and support other women. The Relief Society is a sisterhood. We are stronger and better together. As the song says, "Let us oft speak kind words to each other!" It is easy to let jealousy, judgmental attitudes, and comparisons fracture our sisterhood. As Elder Uchtdorf said, "Stop it!" I believe the pure love of Christ has a cleansing power and as we offer it to others we receive it back to ourselves. Conversely, having love and confidence in who we are as children of God helps us feel the love He has for others. We are less likely to gossip, criticize, or judge others when we feel secure in ourselves! The world is hard enough to navigate as a woman sometimes, we need to do a better job mourning with those who mourn, supporting and believing our fellow sisters, and speaking up for what is right or when we need help. I know our RS has been a great example of service and love to me. </p><p>I know God loves his daughters, no matter your story or path. He wants you to feel His love and the confidence He has in you. He wants you to be celebrated today, even if it can be a painful reminder of loss, wishes, insecurity, or even guilt. </p><p>Go forward with faith! Move mountains. Accept the power you possess as His daughter and live your life fully without regret or stagnation. Be willing to go off plan to find something even better. He wants to bless you. Receive His blessings and return them to others! That is what true motherhood, or shall I say Womanhood, is really about! </p>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-44253708369750304082018-01-01T14:04:00.002-06:002018-01-01T14:04:27.563-06:00No More New Years Resolutions<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I gave up on New Year's Resolutions a long time ago.<br />
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The long list of exciting and usually unattainable goals I without fail give up on and worse, forget about within a few months just didn't seem worth the trouble and then the let down.<br />
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Last year well after the New Year, I came across the idea of choosing a word, or theme for the year. I found this was much more attainable and helpful for me as I lived my day to day. It is easier to remember and I can look back and see I have made some (small) progress.<br />
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My word for 2017 was <b><span style="color: red;">RECLAIM. </span></b>After years of school, residency, followed by a strenuous twin pregnancy and momming two babies, work drama, and the like, I was ready to take back my life. I had had so little control over who I was, my time, or my priorities that I wanted to regain that focus and control. No more people (or pagers!) dictating my every moment or giving me excuses for missing my goals.<br />
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I have to admit that after becoming pregnant my enthusiasm for reclaiming my life came to a drastic speed bump in exchange for afternoon naps and evenings on the couch, but I have seen some changes that I haven't recognized before with my previous list approach.<br />
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Some highlights for 2017:<br />
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<li>Reclaim my body and my health (throw in the pregnancy wrench here, at least on the reclaiming my body for myself): I ran my first 1/2 marathon. This was something I never thought I could do and I am proud of myself for showing I could make it happen, even in the sheer tiredness of first trimester pregnancy. Even though I feel completely derailed with this pregnancy, I know I have more confidence I can get back in shape.</li>
<li>Reclaim my home: I gave away over 250 different groups of items in an attempt to declutter our home and instituted a very manageable cleaning schedule (when I am feeling motivated). Again, I have had setbacks with pregnancy, Christmas, and our expanding and growing family biding our time for six months in a house we have outgrown, but I can see some positive changes in the right direction. </li>
<li>Reclaim my time: I started doing a daily morning journal with daily goals and the idea to live my life with intent. I need to get back on the bandwagon (my perfectionist self sometimes self sabotages and I skip days if I don't think I'll be perfect...bad, bad, bad habit!) but I am getting better at not letting my days just happen to me. Along with this is finding quiet time for meditation and scripture time which has made a huge difference in my mental health.</li>
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Now I am working on my word for 2018. My feel for the year is similar to 2017. I want it to embody the essence of taking charge and being accountable without making excuses for myself. I'm leaning toward <span style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">EMPOWER. </span>I'm really not sure though. Maybe that is being too ambitious for the many changes to come for us this year... new baby, new house, new town/state, new jobs! Maybe it needs to be something like GRACE or FOCUS. But I really want 2018 to be a year where I take charge and face each day with productivity and positivity. </div>
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Any ideas for words for me? What would your word be?</div>
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<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-64209103602516607692017-12-20T16:36:00.001-06:002017-12-20T16:46:13.053-06:00It's A ... And Only One!<div style="clear: both; line-height: 18px;">
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During the study that got me pregnant we did an ultrasound to confirm ovulation. It showed that I <i>had </i>ovulated...three times! Somehow, perhaps miraculously, we are only pregnant with one baby. I chided my doctor for almost getting me pregnant with triplets again and I could tell he felt a little sheepish.<br />
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It was confirmed on both of our more recent ultrasounds that in fact, it was just ONE baby. Phew. Part of me would love to have twins again, but I am relieved and hoping this ONE will be a comparative breeze.<br />
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Before we became pregnant, I felt we would have three children, one girl and two boys. I think this was the idea that maybe our son's identical twin would get a second chance to join our family. However, as I continued to experience morning sickness beyond what I remember or had documented in my previous pregnancy, I started to wonder more and more if this baby was a girl. "I was much sicker with my girl," seemed to be the common consensus expressed to me by friends. I even had a dream that we were having another daughter. So I was a little uncertain what our 20 week ultrasound would show.</div>
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Unlike last pregnancy where we had ultrasounds sometimes every week, this time we were excited to catch another rare glimpse of our baby. Luckily, baby seemed to have all the parts and pieces they look for on an ultrasound and even gave us an open fisted wave with both hands. Baby bopped around and was quite active, but showed us everything except for the pertinent anatomy! The Ultrasound Technician started packing up shop and wiping the gel from my belly when I said, "So do we not get to find out the gender today?"</div>
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Unlike many of our family members and some friends, we are not the wait and see until the baby is born type! We want to know ahead of time, as soon as the technician knows and as early as possible. So I kind of had to laugh to myself that maybe we'd get a surprise gender reveal, after all. </div>
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The technician quickly said, "Oh yes!" as baby had been pretty shy and cross-legged (very Sheffield-esque) during the scan. She had me lie on my side and right away we could see that baby was a girl! I had been thinking she was in fact probably a girl, but we were still a little surprised. My biggest thought to that point was that Mister would probably have another little mother to gang up on him with his bossy big Sister. Abe was worried by the fact we'd have to choose another girl's name, which was difficult for us last time.</div>
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But, we are happy and excited by the turn of events, despite the difficult naming task ahead. Abe made one of his delicious and rare cakes with pink frosting to share the news with family. </div>
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Do you think little sister looks like her siblings? I see some resemblance, especially to her big sister.</div>
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Baby A -- Big Sister</div>
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Little Sister</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby B -- Brother</td></tr>
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At about 11 weeks I thought I was beginning to feel better. I luckily have had very little vomiting episodes (mostly just from gagging while brushing my teeth!), but have had quite a bit of nausea. The nausea become more intermittent but seemed to worsen. Finally about the time of my 20 week US the nausea had subsided. I told the doctor I was suspecting a girl because of the nausea and wondered if it was an old wives' tale. She said "No, it's true!" I'm still a little puzzled why I would be more sick this time than I was with a girl AND a boy...but okay. My horrible body (but not face?!?) acne thankfully also subsided about a month ago as well. Phew.<br />
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I'm feeling big but not nearly as uncomfortable as last time -- by 18-19 weeks with the twins I remember thinking I had already breezed by my second trimester and into my third. I am still sleeping with only one pillow. My rings are still on my fingers (although they did get resized up one full size after my delivery). I haven't had carpal tunnel (hallelujah!). It is a little strange being pregnant in the winter instead of the summer. Instead of trying to squeeze my swollen feet into sandals I am trying to zip coats over my belly.<br />
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My doctor warned me that after last time I would feel a lot smaller but would still feel huge because my uterus is all stretched out. After seeing these pictures I am wondering/scared I am as big as last time. Or bigger? Maybe black is slimming? (My belly shape is a little different.) Luckily after just checking today, I have gained 10 lbs less than last time so far (18.4 vs. 28.5 lb). Still a little more than I'd like at this point but I'm not sweating it yet. Hopefully in another week or two I'll have all of the eggnog and Christmas cookies behind me and can slow down a bit.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">22 weeks with twins</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHgFZHB6vSEClo34pgPjDxyhJVEVWZkv9w0daB7LzfoS3u7-sSuofrVKIEfmkP74DRPjz5Zj37nMmXKHwzNFRB2tBiSSqfP7ELbTmFCbzuavo4cuqKv6wG9yr45NqUAHG93fhsUKYZtkt/s1600/IMG_8957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfHgFZHB6vSEClo34pgPjDxyhJVEVWZkv9w0daB7LzfoS3u7-sSuofrVKIEfmkP74DRPjz5Zj37nMmXKHwzNFRB2tBiSSqfP7ELbTmFCbzuavo4cuqKv6wG9yr45NqUAHG93fhsUKYZtkt/s400/IMG_8957.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost 22 weeks!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMpWBA8Ftq1oXQNPDoJM-RQ63aYgDcq7GoXZLOckMR6XiOiC4oMmasGEiz0pzSrSVkQ7nCNdtHgJ9shmQHV4fMh9k53bmlWRyx363CagPC4sXr_g5ktj60XWE7YJw8oARZPwlSmcUDYvf/s1600/IMG_8961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMpWBA8Ftq1oXQNPDoJM-RQ63aYgDcq7GoXZLOckMR6XiOiC4oMmasGEiz0pzSrSVkQ7nCNdtHgJ9shmQHV4fMh9k53bmlWRyx363CagPC4sXr_g5ktj60XWE7YJw8oARZPwlSmcUDYvf/s400/IMG_8961.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdGVvEm2Ljc3YhqYquk31XtuLQWOK6QI6hFVkpp5eFlb9bElwJDMe3rU_Qj49q3emzKgsXKxgi8lXz-h7iY6VqpvTvYKMeNIqEZPUi-IOkbUSObk4Vfrc07HyTxoFfqAqD0Ms8IdeDPmkY/s1600/IMG_8962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdGVvEm2Ljc3YhqYquk31XtuLQWOK6QI6hFVkpp5eFlb9bElwJDMe3rU_Qj49q3emzKgsXKxgi8lXz-h7iY6VqpvTvYKMeNIqEZPUi-IOkbUSObk4Vfrc07HyTxoFfqAqD0Ms8IdeDPmkY/s400/IMG_8962.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We evidently love pink around here!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AlKH3KnXu6M9kE48nfvbCQNvRCOltxSUQQn3SpNYT2iZ4oL8UDMHFmhoKNSuQMlgYa-fKjHBQuke8Z1GRiqO-P8snR4kq81Py-dvVg4iloHthEtttqslAbcJAnubpS0F-zoondKsWTkz/s1600/July+4+horse+race.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="803" data-original-width="678" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AlKH3KnXu6M9kE48nfvbCQNvRCOltxSUQQn3SpNYT2iZ4oL8UDMHFmhoKNSuQMlgYa-fKjHBQuke8Z1GRiqO-P8snR4kq81Py-dvVg4iloHthEtttqslAbcJAnubpS0F-zoondKsWTkz/s400/July+4+horse+race.jpg" width="337" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About 22 weeks with twins -- funny we are also color coordinated for boy/girl twins!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.199999809265137px; text-align: center;"><b>Singleton Pregnancy Symptoms Week 22:</b></span><br />
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tiredness, low motivation</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">insomnia (thank you Unisom!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">some discomfort with sitting at times</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">feeling movement, mostly about 9 pm</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">round ligament pain</span></div>
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<b>Twin Pregnancy Symptoms Weeks 22-23:</b></div>
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evening tiredness </div>
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arm/hand numbness -- worse this week</div>
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hand and foot swelling -- thank you compression stockings!</div>
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discomfort -- it's getting hard to move!</div>
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insomnia</div>
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mild acne flare up</div>
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no leg hair! I've gone weeks without shaving</div>
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feeling movement</div>
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left TMJ popping -- I guess all those joints are loosening up!</div>
Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-18738550357381177502017-11-06T09:17:00.001-06:002017-11-06T09:17:09.731-06:00Study TimeBefore the twins and my IVF journey to get them, I did months of oral medications to try to induce ovulation. With a diagnosis of PCOS, that is my problem: I have eggs! I just can't get to them.<br />
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When my twin sister had success on clomid I thought for sure I'd follow in her path within a few short months. I suffered through the side effects, which I remember including hot flashes and some mood swings (including an embarrassing emotional outburst at work). At one point I suffered with almost continuous nausea and frequent vomiting which I attributed to the clomid so was switched to its sister, letrazole (turns out it was actually the metformin I was also taking that caused the nausea), and I think eventually ended up back on clomid.<br />
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Between these two medications, I was on the roller coaster ride of hormones for about 9 months (much longer than most people try) without ever a sign of ovulation. Never. Not once.<br />
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After my failed IVF attempt this spring I felt I just couldn't bring myself to do more IVF. When the office calls to give the bad news they also want to know the plan moving forward. I think the nurse was surprised by the finality of my answer. "I think I'm done."<br />
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I mentioned I would consider maybe trying on my own for awhile, maybe with clomid again if that made any sense at all. I assured her I did not have any <strike>unreasonable</strike> hopes that this would work, but it would be something I would possibly consider.<br />
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Shortly after, I received a call from the head of Reproductive Endocrinology. He kindly apologized for the sad news. He mentioned a study he was heading on the use of clomid and letrazole used together. Content with the idea that I was done and might as well get used to the idea, I agreed "all in the name of science." I figured who better could they learn from than me, one who continued to puzzle them with my lack of unexplained success.<br />
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Taking the medication was a little FLASH from the past, or should I say, HOT FLASH from the past. Phew. Luckily I was on a relaxing trip to Vail, CO while Abe was at a conference because I didn't sleep a wink before 5:00 am four out of the five nights we were there. I also about had an emotional breakdown, which I realize now, was <i>probably</i> related. HORMONES!<br />
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During a follow up ultrasound we discovered I had indeed ovulated, the first time ever documented. Surprise! However, when I took the pregnancy test at the end of the one-month study, it was negative.<br />
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As I said before, I didn't have high (or probably any <i>real</i>) hopes for the study. After all, the success rates at our hospital for two rounds of IVF is close to 80%. To offer more perspective, the odds of pregnancy the <i>good ole' fashioned way</i> is only about 25%, even if you are Fertile Myrtle and whatever you would call her virile partner. And as I mentioned before, I was an experienced clomid and letrazole user with zero history of response. You could say I am the <i>anti-</i>poster child for these medications. <br />
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But, I had a suspicion. And instead of writing off my normally absent/irregular cycle as just that, about 10 days later I woke Abe at 3 am with this:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEmLZY0Ep444o9JWgtP6z-uQxMUFGaYE6bzbdhO2yRQJzkC6um3K_vAYlADNuBbyKlb8NJlaPI0oo8SetYEi4Xf90s0ua8SoX8xqv7eqGHX8YuG_r1unUX6sFVq20hF8K1Pv6BBJ0thpu/s1600/IMG_6699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggEmLZY0Ep444o9JWgtP6z-uQxMUFGaYE6bzbdhO2yRQJzkC6um3K_vAYlADNuBbyKlb8NJlaPI0oo8SetYEi4Xf90s0ua8SoX8xqv7eqGHX8YuG_r1unUX6sFVq20hF8K1Pv6BBJ0thpu/s400/IMG_6699.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have no previous experience with this but I think that's a positive</td></tr>
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It truly is another miracle. I'm not sure which is bigger, the twins or this new rainbow baby, but I guess miracles don't need to be ranked or quantified. The fact this time was physically easier (and cheaper) doesn't discount the miraculous nature for me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJN_G5gDA7wOoC_km7FqlJZkbh0FKdsjfIQ6uzAdDKxaWDfiHQyct2DG_A5tz8ceR-Uf5_qh3hYVxumfd5eOAuzdyvrwuYCvPmRK1o5tmBhihJpqEJGog-5YP01oW90wJ1uySuzFCGj5h/s1600/fullsizeoutput_5659.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1330" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJN_G5gDA7wOoC_km7FqlJZkbh0FKdsjfIQ6uzAdDKxaWDfiHQyct2DG_A5tz8ceR-Uf5_qh3hYVxumfd5eOAuzdyvrwuYCvPmRK1o5tmBhihJpqEJGog-5YP01oW90wJ1uySuzFCGj5h/s320/fullsizeoutput_5659.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-60921845404975301802017-05-30T18:57:00.000-05:002017-05-30T18:57:54.917-05:00Yesterday Once More<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2iUt-k71FD9ki6fhY6ZVQj54QVWOt0YhATWqXvZ79d9fscWIrNz8h3yy4ejWCmx8XZJNGKT1r-z882XnU8DyubGvAexNAJsyrEgKRXB-HhRfKIjpP2rQCcIbyROAP6IBcIG4d7-TVykl/s1600/bloodtest2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2iUt-k71FD9ki6fhY6ZVQj54QVWOt0YhATWqXvZ79d9fscWIrNz8h3yy4ejWCmx8XZJNGKT1r-z882XnU8DyubGvAexNAJsyrEgKRXB-HhRfKIjpP2rQCcIbyROAP6IBcIG4d7-TVykl/s320/bloodtest2.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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May 22, 2017</div>
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Today was my blood test, the end of the infamous "two week wait."</div>
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Abe's mom came over early this morning and she helped me get Mister and Sister ready for a walk. We took our stroller to the hospital for a quick lab draw, met up with Daddy for a short time, and came home. On our walk Abe called with the results.<br />
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It was a familiar conversation.<br />
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Abe: "It came back negative."<br />
Me: "Oh, okay.<br />
(Abe: silence)<br />
Me: "Well, not surprising I guess. Hmmm. (Awkward pause)"<br />
Abe: "I guess I should go get ready for my next case."<br />
Me: "Okay, I love you."<br />
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We have had this conversation 5 times now with only slight variations in the script. Maybe that is what made it easier to hear.<br />
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So how am I feeling now? I didn't have much emotion at first. I left the twins with my MIL to feed them breakfast while I took some quiet time to process. The tears didn't come until I told a few family members the news. I am so used to disappointment in this way that I feel pretty okay with not being pregnant right now. But the finality of it is something to mourn and for which I shed a few tears. I had kind of expected before the news at the transfer (that the embryo hadn't done well in the thaw) that this <i>would</i> work, that <i>this cycle</i> would work now that my body "knew what it was doing," and that we had a third baby ready to come join our family -- the baby we lost in the womb coming for another chance at a healthy body.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuE5MA0vYe1lL_mihM1sZSTAU18wkjEpUvxw4fq5VSwrzERMQFSmsUxg5SDBJa3OeuiXlLKP8nAlVt5VwwUTOT89-nLr_Ez-a_qjBAAdrukSvCL1Qb7WJsI8iBEddyGTiPDxUjG86tq8ol/s1600/IMG_5176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuE5MA0vYe1lL_mihM1sZSTAU18wkjEpUvxw4fq5VSwrzERMQFSmsUxg5SDBJa3OeuiXlLKP8nAlVt5VwwUTOT89-nLr_Ez-a_qjBAAdrukSvCL1Qb7WJsI8iBEddyGTiPDxUjG86tq8ol/s320/IMG_5176.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken by my MIL as I cried in my room</td></tr>
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However, I also feel like God has been reminding me the past few weeks how lucky I am. I have two miracle babies who are wonderful and sweet and make me smile every day. I love how they sing "Twinkle Twinkle" wih a variety of lyrics, from singing about stars, ABC's, BAA BAA BAA's, EI-EI-O's, or even Ma MA MA's, and give each others sweet hugs and kisses. I think He has been telling me, "You have enough. You don't have to keep doing this anymore. You are already so lucky."<br />
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So I choose to have faith in disappointment. I would love to have another baby. Just one. (I don't need to get greedy!) Crazy as I feel saying it even to myself, I would love to experience pregnancy again (I guess with the hope it would be easier this time!). I am disappointed I will probably never get that amazing birth experience, meeting and holding my baby in the delivery room without the many negative emotions I experienced last time. I was hoping to successfully nurse without all of the frustrations of before. I am sad thinking I wont get another chance to savor the smell of my new baby or the amazing feeling of cuddling him as he sleeps.<br />
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I'm not sure where we go from here. There is a common mentality that I will probably just get pregnant on my own. I'm not counting on that (although I do personally know other IVF mamas where that has been the case). In many ways, it feels easier to decide that I am done. To cut my losses and exit the roller coast of emotions permanently. Or at least for now. If I decide I want to ride that wild ride again, I can always purchase another ticket. Right now I am already dizzy and nauseated and will probably feel like I am still spinning at home in bed for awhile.<br />
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Either way, I'm not sure I am ready to throw out all of my baby stuff just yet. Whether that is me holding out a glimmer of hope or for sentimentality's sake, I'm not sure.<br />
<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-7547711998361067422017-05-29T08:14:00.000-05:002017-05-29T08:14:44.379-05:00Our Hail MaryMay 11, 2017<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpkhgYsunahaE172SxYS77IaGl-_ZcDyaCvVMqmFxELNbTNobldkRu2GhS3kZocUKNTfft4UBBeuBkuLTuMWyQPYnWOr0kAduuEKUt4gfccKTUPqPhxl1lNZWHNj5-u-EqGCHyV5QAVMc7/s1600/IMG_4941.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpkhgYsunahaE172SxYS77IaGl-_ZcDyaCvVMqmFxELNbTNobldkRu2GhS3kZocUKNTfft4UBBeuBkuLTuMWyQPYnWOr0kAduuEKUt4gfccKTUPqPhxl1lNZWHNj5-u-EqGCHyV5QAVMc7/s640/IMG_4941.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Our embryo transfer was today. </div>
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At 9:45 am I was picking up Abe from work and I received a call from my doctor. He told me our embryo had split after the thaw and that it "wasn't looking too great." He wanted to give me a "heads up." In the meantime, we would see how it looked in a few hours.<br />
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My appointment was at 11:15. My favorite doctor and his fellow (the same one who got me pregnant before -- a good sign?) came in before I changed for the procedure. He sat on the bed (a bad sign, I thought -- a technique taught to doctors to build rapport or to be more personable when giving bad news). They showed us pictures and explained that sometimes embryos don't do well after thawing (we had been lucky up to this point to have all of them survive the thaw). We now had two embryos after the one split. I was hoping he would say they looked good and now we had the chance for twins, which I would gladly do again. (Also has me wondering if we could implant them at separate times and have identical twins with different ages. Weird! -- I don't know that they could re-freeze it.) However, they felt that one looked like it was degenerating and the other looked questionable. It didn't seem to be growing like they expected it would.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiptiv_TYLHm0DKi56KJPgFgfObfMS1ZkkMK2nHipmtVUMIR5aQjzJMZdOQMEUyhBshcXQfJR7QePTejBq7nkYPkzRJJwCXkZPPogqmLAluvKkRZKRtOt8Nco1TNjTMrermiWUI9gtpf7dW/s1600/IVF+may+2017.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="468" data-original-width="290" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiptiv_TYLHm0DKi56KJPgFgfObfMS1ZkkMK2nHipmtVUMIR5aQjzJMZdOQMEUyhBshcXQfJR7QePTejBq7nkYPkzRJJwCXkZPPogqmLAluvKkRZKRtOt8Nco1TNjTMrermiWUI9gtpf7dW/s640/IVF+may+2017.png" width="396" /></a></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfkUdC5PR_0TzLhLzbY1VFf_EgtSGRAug3IgOnllSlOC4mf1nlhGLLcytjs7w8CIYn4V_6m9iTinvmvg3nHIPZKKTOOpSc-vF1ksqgjHv1E5SyHWPu-gqWdY3RswrwmGfVPWrcEhpKpMj/s1600/IVF+transfer+2017.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="188" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxfkUdC5PR_0TzLhLzbY1VFf_EgtSGRAug3IgOnllSlOC4mf1nlhGLLcytjs7w8CIYn4V_6m9iTinvmvg3nHIPZKKTOOpSc-vF1ksqgjHv1E5SyHWPu-gqWdY3RswrwmGfVPWrcEhpKpMj/s640/IVF+transfer+2017.png" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
#1 shows the split embryos</div>
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#2 shows the questionable transferred embryo</div>
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#3 shows the non-transferred, non-viable embryo</div>
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</tbody></table>
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They offered us to "cut our losses" and we could go home, or we could proceed with the transfer knowing it had a low chance of working.<br />
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We decided to try. The biggest negative was continuing with the shots. I reminded them I was an old pro and they laughed in a knowing and apologetic way. Abe said, "Well, we will give God something to work with!"<br />
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They gave us 5% odds.<br />
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I started to process the idea of a failure for the first time. When we got back in the procedure room I felt infertile. Again. I had forgotten those feelings for about 2 years. I felt bad I couldn't give Abe his big family. I felt sad that I felt like we "didn't even have a chance" this time. I felt broken. And I remembered the many times in this room full of excitement and the disappointments that followed so many times over.<br />
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I also felt more modest this time. Out of practice I guess. The procedure took less than a minute -- much easier to get the catheter that delivers the embryo in place than ever before. My uterus must have changed because they always commented before on the difficulty. My bladder wasn't as full as the other times so the five minute wait after the transfer wasn't unbearable as before.<br />
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After we quietly walked back to my room in my socks to change, we kept our tradition of going to an Indian Buffet for lunch. (I mention the socks because somehow that feels important. There is a vulnerability of being in a public building without shoes, but also a coziness and warmth of only wearing socks. Is that weird?)<br />
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I had the romantic notion of not telling anyone until I was pregnant and starting to show. After the procedure, we decided it was such a long shot we could use the prayers so we decided to tell our families. I think everyone is trying to be optimistic/hopeful/supportive so we got a lot of "exciting"-s and "congrats"-s. In the moment I felt this should be more like condolences since this was my last (perceived?) chance of growing our family but I understand their thought process.<br />
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As I have spent more time in the day I have thought of that little baby I assumed we would get. As hard as it was, I want to experience pregnancy one more time. I want to savor one more little baby and all of the precious moments that went so fast before. I want to have a normal delivery and feel the magic of meeting my baby without the fear and separation anxiety of the NICU. I want one more round, less rushed and frantic than two often was (although I understand maybe a mom of three never get that!).<br />
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But...<br />
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I felt at peace. I felt like an answer to prayer to see and experience the immense joy and wonderful personalities I already have at home, today more than other days. Their laughs and smiles at simple silly things like the name of dinner and their sweet and purposeful kisses today as if they knew I really needed them were like messages from God.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUY_gVoyIBNeOu2baZ6VTw2BD8j3PPmy824kBGkewjg17AMgdwgN0u0IGmxKSyI6a2rzFlJrBp6JvYAvTmfeZIfy64EfcWX01NwMxq0rECliAe2OLsG5ZjnMAMLWrhSlFzkeknXSF9gbI/s1600/IMG_5009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkUY_gVoyIBNeOu2baZ6VTw2BD8j3PPmy824kBGkewjg17AMgdwgN0u0IGmxKSyI6a2rzFlJrBp6JvYAvTmfeZIfy64EfcWX01NwMxq0rECliAe2OLsG5ZjnMAMLWrhSlFzkeknXSF9gbI/s320/IMG_5009.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL54h2vcq3EFJzzeYrVQ9gu62d_YWNHPMeLvdoZ6LtcJktZcDw88YJgWMgJx8bD4zLHMgCJh3t4Dg5j5KMUdXvOHqXIZOsKVd2CDJhrzhNUy9wyWt2eksr_Qi740JMASCdK9lWuKv__2kD/s1600/IMG_5013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL54h2vcq3EFJzzeYrVQ9gu62d_YWNHPMeLvdoZ6LtcJktZcDw88YJgWMgJx8bD4zLHMgCJh3t4Dg5j5KMUdXvOHqXIZOsKVd2CDJhrzhNUy9wyWt2eksr_Qi740JMASCdK9lWuKv__2kD/s320/IMG_5013.JPG" width="180" /></a><br />
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They are miraculous. And enough. If I don't get another baby we still have a perfect family.<br />
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Abe and I are putting it in God's hands, one more time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirp7kdJw4ghONH1PPB4J3VK-AV7Jfonm6cNWQBbW9r1MQ_gR5rCbhhvZsVaFnGXi35L3aqgDieKezGpBOLI1CGlZbySEADHik859C1TQMdYEfJuCKM-W3cMN6tqT1nUAkS8DTBtMir6gq4/s1600/IMG_4967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirp7kdJw4ghONH1PPB4J3VK-AV7Jfonm6cNWQBbW9r1MQ_gR5rCbhhvZsVaFnGXi35L3aqgDieKezGpBOLI1CGlZbySEADHik859C1TQMdYEfJuCKM-W3cMN6tqT1nUAkS8DTBtMir6gq4/s320/IMG_4967.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-18015615775816465022017-05-28T12:00:00.000-05:002017-05-28T12:00:32.757-05:00T-1 to Transfer Day May 10, 2017<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhkHUeXHC82e-ElcICYQCQhqrvDiQKTtTxctw7jr73Wvu10fWbHSrp0y2lA-3T2h4BfY1Eed4OO2r8U9a2R9OFptMtjbfv2pK6SS98S0NKvH1sJaqlfze5-wq3zlMM7exOs_0s643-k_o/s1600/IMG_4998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhkHUeXHC82e-ElcICYQCQhqrvDiQKTtTxctw7jr73Wvu10fWbHSrp0y2lA-3T2h4BfY1Eed4OO2r8U9a2R9OFptMtjbfv2pK6SS98S0NKvH1sJaqlfze5-wq3zlMM7exOs_0s643-k_o/s640/IMG_4998.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Do I really want to do THIS again??? <br />I was HUGE and that was HARD.</td></tr>
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We were at Costco last night and I picked up a bottle of pre-natal vitamins. The checker asked if we were having another baby. I wondered how he was on to me and didn't know how to respond (he was a stranger so I could probably be honest, but then again, what???) I realized I <i>must</i> look pregnant (something I have commonly been told/asked in the past), especially with my recent weight gain. Then I realized it was just the pills. Ha!<br />
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* * *</div>
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Tomorrow is the big day, my round #6 of IVF, FET (frozen embryo transfer) #5.<br />
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I still don't know what time I need to be there...I better double check this afternoon.<br />
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Honestly, I haven't thought about it much. I've been doing my progesterone shots since May 6. I dread them every night although they honestly haven't been bad and easier than before. (Tip: the cold of an alcohol swab on the adjacent skin is a nice distraction.) But besides my TID (three times per day) estradiol pills and the nightly shots I kinda forgot about it. Abe even mentioned something about "Thursday" and I literally said, "Oh yeah, Thursday!"<br />
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Am I blocking it from my mind in some subconscious defense mechanism? Am I such an "old pro" at this IVF thing it just doesn't phase me any more? Or maybe life as a working mother of twins is enough to keep my mind busy I haven't had time to ruminate on it all?<br />
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I don't know the answer but it is strange to think tomorrow I may be pregnant. And if I find out in a few weeks that I am not, then I am probably never going to be pregnant again. I don't know how I will respond when I actually process that.<br />
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So prayers that things go as they should tomorrow, whether that means God has another baby for us or not. And prayers I will be able to gracefully accept whatever that answer is, because right now either answer is a little scary.<br />
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<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-89664778498019628282017-05-27T20:41:00.000-05:002017-05-27T20:41:22.191-05:00Needle Phobic People Beware<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ_0Yp3ElPCP5ZLHsW283NGATquQ5XZGieKfnUOnBrLMliUTrSxVW7aFc3BDZMec2Krf1Q_Hgl7yqncSGfzzOCJo1uk38Fz0BqC6k9w00DImQcnn4x9u4PNWosTMRIY_9LXawIz9xh9OZ5/s1600/fullsizeoutput_48f9.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="942" data-original-width="934" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ_0Yp3ElPCP5ZLHsW283NGATquQ5XZGieKfnUOnBrLMliUTrSxVW7aFc3BDZMec2Krf1Q_Hgl7yqncSGfzzOCJo1uk38Fz0BqC6k9w00DImQcnn4x9u4PNWosTMRIY_9LXawIz9xh9OZ5/s320/fullsizeoutput_48f9.jpeg" width="316" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Injection target area for PIO </td></tr>
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April 23, 2017<br />
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After that initial day of feeling off, I seem to be doing fine. Phew! It seems like it is a really long build-up this time. I don't remember being on the estradiol this long before starting the injections. It must have been the same protocol before but it sure feels like a long time until May 1 when I increase the frequency of the estradiol and a LONG time before I start the progesterone shots on May 5 or 6. Luckily, I'm not super anxious about that!<br />
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May 6, 2017<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuL3CGLcbdJhQs_QImJJlUijF_Q4Ro2NCvJOWGpiWOLGL0g4_hJcBKFfea6edzW_1koVlnQnszKGrIJLtAxYyD-BvnPim8E0oJ6t9vx2qCYdF_hrNrStHU9cuPF5fpDbncjd1E7pHkJss6/s1600/fullsizeoutput_48f7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1411" data-original-width="1225" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuL3CGLcbdJhQs_QImJJlUijF_Q4Ro2NCvJOWGpiWOLGL0g4_hJcBKFfea6edzW_1koVlnQnszKGrIJLtAxYyD-BvnPim8E0oJ6t9vx2qCYdF_hrNrStHU9cuPF5fpDbncjd1E7pHkJss6/s400/fullsizeoutput_48f7.jpeg" width="346" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More needles!</td></tr>
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I started my PIO (progesterone in oil) injections tonight. Back at it! The huge bag of needles<br />
brought back the realization of how long I will be doing this again if it works (10 weeks!). I tried calculating out in my head how much of my life I have spent injecting a thick oil filled with hormones into a target on my butt (sorry, <i>hip)</i> and it comes out to about 5 months.<br />
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I feel less dread and emotion than I expected and it really wasn't painful like I remembered. But it did have that familiar strange and tight soreness that only injecting a mL of hormone impregnated oil can bring.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwyfui5q3COquUs9kHzGEbkLmvQA-d21KSurQARAdtNoevXPy4_JdFrokcNv0wx6pWJjtB7o9uCQKkQGjagTX4sCTAemNq2JAT-0_WvDYYJopv_yu9Ls9Ym5A7-ooQrTgLwj55fCavwt8/s1600/fullsizeoutput_48fa.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1030" data-original-width="1523" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwyfui5q3COquUs9kHzGEbkLmvQA-d21KSurQARAdtNoevXPy4_JdFrokcNv0wx6pWJjtB7o9uCQKkQGjagTX4sCTAemNq2JAT-0_WvDYYJopv_yu9Ls9Ym5A7-ooQrTgLwj55fCavwt8/s400/fullsizeoutput_48fa.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The medication is so thick it can be difficult to draw up.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-8aZhRwMxlWvE3wnxYR_UM13HErGkRptKgkS9fpZ6msmBiansTu5z7NVOwcUDIAUqoaa7ztSAuOKPozAtYDveSf7eslLEeRB7dxUj_8YlvQ_C0NDUZrQeW92SHzpA5J9aFdZxSwh9oFm/s1600/fullsizeoutput_48fc.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="948" data-original-width="1043" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8-8aZhRwMxlWvE3wnxYR_UM13HErGkRptKgkS9fpZ6msmBiansTu5z7NVOwcUDIAUqoaa7ztSAuOKPozAtYDveSf7eslLEeRB7dxUj_8YlvQ_C0NDUZrQeW92SHzpA5J9aFdZxSwh9oFm/s400/fullsizeoutput_48fc.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The target areas are so different every time depending on which nurse you have.<br />I think these were the best so far... much less painful than any other cycle.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhigM2PqUP7IQ8meRsixMEALu5utbn4wgsFTUxabO40QGbV74q1avmaI0UmQeR7_B3jPqoqzoR9-H9OnK2Anx1J0tj_4-yqUxknk2HVcP2SeBvd0A0Sc-96McJIrlCf7841DjlfeR-0ZxjD/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="963" data-original-width="975" height="395" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhigM2PqUP7IQ8meRsixMEALu5utbn4wgsFTUxabO40QGbV74q1avmaI0UmQeR7_B3jPqoqzoR9-H9OnK2Anx1J0tj_4-yqUxknk2HVcP2SeBvd0A0Sc-96McJIrlCf7841DjlfeR-0ZxjD/s400/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can inject myself but I prefer the emotional support of having Abe do it for me.</td></tr>
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I am on the estradiol pill TID (three times per day) now. You really should take all of the medications at the same time per day with a window of a few hours. It can be hard to remember so I have to set my alarm, especially for my afternoon dose on days that I work. During the times I am in treatment it isn't uncommon for me to wake up night in a panic "realizing" I have forgotten to take a medication (usually for the entire cycle) and I must have lost the baby. Luckily, I haven't missed any doses yet in my conscious state.<br />
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I had my ultrasound appointment a couple of days ago. This is to observe the uterine lining and its response to the medications. It needs to be a certain thickness before proceeding with the actual transfer. They also checked my ovaries to make sure I haven't been shooting eggs out on my own (which could mean an unexpected multiple pregnancy if they transfer an embryo as well).<br />
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<i>Fat chance of that, as who knows if I EVER ovulate. </i><br />
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Things were looking good (my lining was thick and my ovaries were "quiet" as they say), so we are good to go ahead next week. I also met with the nurse who reminded me of the instructions (funny how it seems so fuzzy now).<br />
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I also turned in my "thaw consent." This has to be signed in the clinic with one of the staff acting as a witness, or it has to be previously notorized. I guess they have to take this eriously -- no creating offspring behind someone's back! This time was easy, "Thaw one embryo." No further instructions or decisions to make on that.<br />
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As for the hormones, I find myself very tired and unmotivated. And I am up about 5 lb --suspiciously similar to the amount of weight I gained last time! I look pretty bloated. Maybe like I am pregnant already...?<br />
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Strangely, most of my IVF friends are pregnant now and another friend is doing her last few attempts at IUI (intrauterine insemination). Most of them conceived well before me in our journeys, so I am hoping we can all be pregnant together this time.<br />
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*I made some videos of the injections if anyone would like to see them. I have had some friends who feel pretty intimidated with how to draw up the medications, etc, so please contact me if you need help. I guess if you have a morbid curiosity, that works too.<br />
<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-17883507818361928102017-05-27T09:06:00.000-05:002017-05-27T09:06:29.272-05:00Hormone-ee-e-es: Wow, just wow!April 18, 2017<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkZE__yywaZ7wNxsy6-Z-sOf0CzCvDK14uvC0oyEnIsU_OONJc2hU6Kc7M2mBs-LkNiPB57UFCsUBMpvPM1AKjITG2rouxtOdXJV9WxKs69LOkbfJqrxvg5CDCka9Z9_eetfMOhfa-Cvv/s1600/IMG_5749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkZE__yywaZ7wNxsy6-Z-sOf0CzCvDK14uvC0oyEnIsU_OONJc2hU6Kc7M2mBs-LkNiPB57UFCsUBMpvPM1AKjITG2rouxtOdXJV9WxKs69LOkbfJqrxvg5CDCka9Z9_eetfMOhfa-Cvv/s640/IMG_5749.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The medication schedule for IVF is so strict and complicated you get a calendar to stay on track!</td></tr>
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24 hours after taking my first pills and I feel out of whack. Cranky and sad. Incredibly cranky and sad.<br />
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Nothing is wrong but it feels like the world is falling down.<br />
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It always makes you wonder if this is ME or just the hormones talking. If it is the hormones I'm in for a wilder ride than I remember!<br />
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<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-34915174830774121792017-05-26T13:30:00.000-05:002017-05-26T20:28:06.156-05:00Mum is the wordApril 17, 2017<br />
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I already said this time feels different.<br />
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This time I am keeping quiet about it. This time I want it to feel like a "normal" pregnancy where I get to start showing and have people wonder if I am pregnant or just putting on the pounds. That I can simmer on my emotions by myself for awhile. That it can be my happy surprise to share or my disappointment to decide what to do with.<br />
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But I find myself a little nervous about not sharing. Last time I feel the prayers of many were on my side and I believe in the power of that. I feel like this last little embryo has to fight against the world for his spot in humanity and I have some worry without the legions of prayers he won't have as much of a chance. But I also trust that faith and prayers are strong and that God has a will. So the prayers of a longing mother and father I think have power as well and hopefully that will be enough.<br />
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I do find myself <i>almost </i>accidentally spilling the beans already, after just a few days, about to make comments about how I have an appointment or need to go take my medication, etc. We will see how far I can go. The transfer is scheduled for May 11. I may not have to keep this secret longer than that if we get negative results.<br />
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I am choosing to be optimistic that that won't be the case. However, it is a tricky thing to be hopeful and excited enough to have the courage to go forward with something as significant and life changing as a child. Plus, facing all of the unpleasant interventions to make it happen while trying to tell yourself to "not get your hopes up" or be "too disappointed" if it isn't in the cards, --or as I prefer to think, "God's will."<br />
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"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change"</div>
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<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-23176429305216877422017-05-25T21:10:00.002-05:002017-05-25T22:24:32.353-05:00The Final Round<div>
Here's a peak into my journals for those of you wondering what I have been up to.<br />
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April 17, 2017</div>
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On a whim I decided maybe it was time to try for embryo baby #3 -- or actually, technically, #6. </div>
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Who does that? </div>
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Makes a major life decision like the possibility of having three babies two years and under -- without days, weeks, or months of thought and preparation?</div>
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Add to it the part about having to be pregnant. (Man that was hard!)</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why didn't anyone tell my I was this big?!</td></tr>
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Oh yeah, and then there is the whole IVF part: </div>
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The shots. </div>
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The pills. </div>
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The frequent appointments. </div>
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And most of all, the chance for major and in this case FINAL disappointment --because if this works it will in all likelihood be my last pregnancy and my last baby; and if it doesn't work, well...yeah. It WOULD have in all likelihood been my last pregnancy. </div>
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I guess that is why I didn't want to think about it much and to take the plunge thoughtlessly. (And now my mind is making IVF needle puns about syringes with plungers...)</div>
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So without much mental energy or emotion really, I called the IVF clinic last week to matter-of-factly find out what the protocol would be for a FET (Frozen Embryo Transfer). I figured it would be a bunch of appointments and weeks or months before they would be ready. Nope. We could get started right away and why not in just a few weeks? "Start by going off your birth control pill <i>today</i>."</div>
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Before I knew it, I was getting my first of many upcoming needle sticks with a blood draw for my thyroid levels. </div>
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Nurse: "We need to get your blood drawn? When can you come?" </div>
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Me: "How about now I guess?"</div>
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Things are already different this round as my TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) was normal this time, which means one less hormone to add into the mix than I had last round. And so far, no news of starting any metformin, a medication usually taken to regulate diabetes. </div>
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And then last night I started 2 mg of Estradiol (an estrogen hormone to help support the uterine lining for pregnancy) and again this morning. I was careful to set my alarm for morning and night so I wouldn't forget any of these important doses.</div>
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And then I came into my room and plopped onto the bed as it started to hit me what I had just done. Abe hugged me and we prayed, as I realized the seriousness of this newfound plan. Round 6. I have done this so. many. times before. I should be an old pro. This should be old hat. I can't help but wonder if that will make it easier? Or if it will make it harder? </div>
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I felt the dread after swallowing the small blue pills. I wish I could remember with accuracy what these hormones were about to do to my body. To my mood. To my weight. I am amazed by what I can't remember after spending almost a year constantly putting myself through this regimen before Mister and Sister's arrival. And also what I remember is slowly flooding back -- the pain and the disappointment and the dread and most of all the waiting. </div>
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Amazingly I didn't cry. But I questioned if I was strong enough and brave enough to do this all again. </div>
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This time feels different. This time there is an endpoint in the near future. Before, I had the hope of six embryos securely in the freezer and a large family coming from them. Now I know how hard it was to get the two blessings I have. I know that the odds are more likely than not that I will not get pregnant -- it took 5 embryos to get where I am now, why will one lone survivor suddenly stick this time? It doesn't seem like the way to start the "trying" process -- without much hope.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mister and Sister's first baby picture</td></tr>
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So we will see what happens. Despite it all, I have hope there is a little brother or sister there waiting to join us. I also have the joy of knowing we already have an amazing family. </div>
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There is some relief in the finality even though it is also scary. Some of the worst parts of the whole process before was wondering and having to ask God, "How much do I have to do this before I give up? Before I know it won't work?" This time I know we have one more shot. (Again with the puns, actually 2-12 weeks of shots... but one chance at a pregnancy.)</div>
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I am anxious to finally know if I can give away my baby gear. I am also terrified to think I may have to. </div>
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So here's to my Hail Mary. Crossing my fingers it will work. And if it doesn't, that I will be okay with God's answer. </div>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-42423923067520088722017-01-22T21:07:00.001-06:002017-01-22T22:28:34.100-06:00Why I am thanking Mr. Trump for his locker room chat<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="7r9s" data-offset-key="dko0i-0-0" style="letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">I was looking for the "feminist" photo to match:</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">perhaps the power suit? But then again, the mom in pajamas</span><br />
<span style="color: white;">reading to/teaching her kids is a pretty close second!</span></td></tr>
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</span><span style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've long considered myself a feminist.
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<span data-offset-key="dko0i-0-0" style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Equality and opportunity for women became a passion of mine since facing the challenges of entering a male dominated field, experiencing my share of discriminatory treatment, and more recently, becoming a mother. Unfortunately, I have found the connotations of the "feminist" label I proudly wear tend to bring a surprising amount of negativity, assumption, and sometimes ill judgement. </span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="bo2f1-0-0" style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thus, I am glad to see so many come out across the country to march for women this weekend! I take the appalling commentary on women from our now president as a twisted blessing. Today, we address behavior (that is seen and felt by women every day) publicly and head-on -- instead of silently and privately as women are told "stuff like that doesn't happen anymore" or "you are being too emotional" or "too sensitive." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="chrc9-0-0" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="chrc9-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">I hope that after marching this week, we will remember to continue to support the women around us. Especially as women, supporting other women. We have so many issues to confront! Unequal pay, sexual harassment, birth control, sexual assault, the glass ceiling, maternity and childcare decisions, to name only a few. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Unfortunately, I have found we as women are often our worst enemies. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="chrc9-0-0" style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="chrc9-0-0" style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because we haven't seen sexism, <i>we won't believe it. </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="chrc9-0-0" style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Or because we accept it ourselves, we ridicule those who won't.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1d2129;"><span style="color: white; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Because we didn't choose it, <i>we </i></span><span style="font-family: "san francisco" , , "blinkmacsystemfont" , , sans-serif;"><i>will judge it. </i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: white; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; white-space: pre-wrap;">We often choose to harshly judge life choices that don't mirror our own instead of compassionately looking at the variables that brought those choices forward or to find a way to help. Instead of criticism, maybe we should ask, "What can I do?" </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: white; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: white; letter-spacing: -0.23999999463558197px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Or we accept the objectification and sexualization of ourselves and our daughters. It is so prevalent we may not even notice. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Or worse, we label it "female empowerment.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"</span><span data-offset-key="6cc4u-0-0" style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Feminism isn't just bra burning; it shouldn't be man-hating; and doesn't have to be about abortion rights. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="6cc4u-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">I think it should be advocating for women. It should be respecting women and their choices. It should be refusing to expect or tolerate disrespectful treatment even when it may be as common place as over-sexualized marketing or even </span>"locker room chat."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="en4i9-0-0" style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="en4i9-0-0" style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So thank you to Mr. Trump for your abhorrent behavior, because for once, I have found many women and especially men fired up about issues I have long cared about. But for many of us, this isn't new or unusual or even surprising talk or behavior.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="en4i9-0-0" style="color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span data-offset-key="en4i9-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">And thank you marchers for your visible efforts.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I hope we can all continue to march on because we</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> still have a lot of work to do.</span></span></span><br />
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-11828272789134012362017-01-12T00:45:00.000-06:002017-01-12T00:54:24.723-06:00The Big One<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCsLL-cuTD83GD7F0aF96kyYiyZBdd0R71FZ7ZHciKlKMdsw3ruPWphXOwDh3sEm1ZUk-AY2uNZPI4TBtFXgCt4MIoKiph0UrQBrBt156DsBkhL82MfZscY3sXNE52SM2f5SUm0p8wXQ2z/s1600/IMG_1983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCsLL-cuTD83GD7F0aF96kyYiyZBdd0R71FZ7ZHciKlKMdsw3ruPWphXOwDh3sEm1ZUk-AY2uNZPI4TBtFXgCt4MIoKiph0UrQBrBt156DsBkhL82MfZscY3sXNE52SM2f5SUm0p8wXQ2z/s640/IMG_1983.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo credit Chelsee Sheffield</td></tr>
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As an adult, I feel the change of time differently than I did as a child. I remember when each year and each birthday seemed like a huge milestone. A new grade! New pants (to replace the ones that now hit above the ankles)! A chance to say my age as a round number instead of one carefully measured in quarters (wouldn't it be funny if adults did this? "How old are you? "-- "33 and a quarter")! </div>
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Besides the big milestones -- 18! 21! 30! I don't see or even celebrate much of the aging or progress I must be undergoing, except maybe by the slow development of fine lines popping up on my forehead or the increased difficulty I have getting back in shape.</div>
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I have noticed myself hesitantly measuring my own progression in life by the growing children of my friends:</div>
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Our marriage is a 5th grader now! </div>
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My career in private practice is walking and throwing tantrums. </div>
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And my time as a mother is a one year old (well two one year olds)!</div>
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People act like this is a big deal. "You made it!" I wonder if there was ever a question. (Was there???) I'm glad we did -- instead of the alternative, I suppose. </div>
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And it does feel like an accomplishment, maybe especially with twins. </div>
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Our parenthood is now one years old, whether you go off actual birthday or due date. It is growing up -- as old as two babies feeding themselves (although still a pretty messy job), crawling all over and even taking steps. It is outgrowing infant car seats, communicating with simple words like "hot!" and "thank you." And is a combined 50 lbs. </div>
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I know it is still rather early, but we have gone far enough I find myself giving advice to new moms as if I am a seasoned pro. (Does having two babies accelerate me on the path a bit?)</div>
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Isn't it interesting how time has a strange way of going so fast and yet so slowly at the same time? It seems like these babies have been with us for a lifetime, and yet I am amazed it has already been a whole year! </div>
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I wondered how I would feel when we all hit this big one year milestone. Would I cry like the other moms warned? Would I mourn the loss of my two little snuggly babies replaced with toddlers on the move? Or perhaps relish the moment like most of the twin parents I know -- so relieved to have made it through the time most refer to as " a blur" or a time they can't even remember?</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">When the big day arrived, I found myself happy and excited for the progress we have made and the future ahead. So far I have loved every stage with its challenges and joys and look forward to the progress and learning that is ahead with excitement and pride. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">It is strange but exciting that now I can measure the passing of our lives in the progress of my own children. </span></div>
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Written Fall 2016, shortly after birthday #1!Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-13439576295141381422016-09-05T10:09:00.003-05:002016-09-05T10:23:22.099-05:00We are breaking up...<br />
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Dear Medela,<br /><br />I'm breaking up with you. It has been a long almost 11 months. I know it seems almost silly to break things off now --we always said we would go the distance! To one year, or heck, maybe even farther! But you know, I just can't take it any more. You are sucking it all out of me. <br /><br />Then again, you aren't --and that's the problem.<br /><br />You think you own me and frankly, are a bit controlling. <br />You dictate what I wear. No dresses unless they have stretchy necklines or buttons! Nothing too fancy!<br />You leave your messes behind you--in my car, the couch, my kitchen. <br />You won't let me see friends when I am with you.<br />You set my schedule, no matter the occasion or time. And you want me, all to yourself! Alone in a dark room, a car, even a quick special hotel room meet up at special events.<br /><br />It's true, we have been through our ups and downs together. Your monotonous hum always lurking there in the background, in videos and phone calls, people always asking about you, "what's that?" The quiet companion always there--In the winter and the hot summer. With babies crawling over us and in the lonely wee hours of the night. Through work meetings and long commutes, weddings and shopping trips and family parties. Awkward sittings in the nursing lounge when our non-traditional relationship becomes obvious with the other nursing couples who are surely wondering about us. You've always been so mechanical! I know there are others like us, but they tend to remain in the closet!<br /><br />You have always been there, nagging at me every 3-4 hours and on my mind almost every minute. "Come back to me, it's been too long. You need me. Only I can help you." And even, "You should be pumping. You are 'nursing' twins!"<div>
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But alas, I am giving way more than you are. I tried my best but unlike many of the other moms I know with over-flowing milk and their freezers full of storage bags, the few drops you are giving me just aren't worth the hassle. So I need to make a clean break. You have about a week to take the last of your milk before it is all gone.</div>
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<br />No please, just go. Don't watch me cry! Sure, I'd love to stay friends, just another pump or two more. But then you really have to go. Before I change my mind.<br /><br />Believe me, it's me, not you. I just can't make it work any more. And actually, there is someone else. It's my life. She called and she wants me back.<br /><br />I know it hurts. I'm crying as I write this. But it has to happen. Maybe in a few years we can try again. I can't say that I will miss you but it will be an adjustment.<br /><br />Sure, I may be willing to take you back. But you've made promises before to change your ways. More quality time together, power pumping sessions, wining and dining (well not really wining). But I just can't see it working. It's never lasted before. Why would I believe you now?<br /><br />Sincerely,<br />Erin<br /><br />Oh! And, I just learned that Janet down the street may be in the market. I think you will be just what she is looking for. You guys could be great! <br /></div>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-29310034294130803652016-08-21T14:56:00.002-05:002016-08-21T15:14:32.721-05:00Twin Skin and Tiger Stripes<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: Sarah Siler Photography</td></tr>
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Before my struggle with infertility, I had a lot of anxiety about becoming pregnant, including some concerns about what it would do to my body. I wrote about some of those worries in my <a href="http://erinsheffield.blogspot.com/2013/02/blueberry-girl.html" target="_blank">Blueberry Girl</a> post. Knowing how hard I am on myself, I was worried that changes I could not control may wreak havoc on my body, which would cause a lot of personal dissatisfaction. Silly or not, these were some real concerns and although I was called out by some commenters for being selfish or vain to worry about such things, I still was quite worried.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking back I was bigger than I remember!</td></tr>
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I mentioned before that my first body awareness after having the babies was noticing my immediately deflated belly as I lay on the operating room table. I felt a little unnerved seeing my once taut belly all soft and saggy. I started to wonder about the damage of what some call "twin skin."</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Again, bigger than I realized!</td></tr>
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I was stuck in bed and unable to move well enough to do much for days after the delivery. The first time I took a bath and saw myself in the mirror I was shocked. I couldn't believe how huge my hips looked. I figured it was because the size my lower body had grown was now grossly out of proportion without the large belly to match (I did gain at least 7" on my hips when I measured part way through my pregnancy). I managed to make it through my pregnancy with no stretch marks on my belly and a few small ones on my hips. Now, I have tiger stripes all along my outer hips and love handles that I attribute to the swelling from the IV fluids given to me in the hospital, partly to combat anemia after losing significant blood during the procedure, and realize now the large "hippy" appearance was also due partly to swelling.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Induction day edema</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What happened to my knees?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home post partum a few days later!</td></tr>
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I don't know what I weighed in the hospital (close to 200 lbs) but I lost about 20 lb. by the time I got home 5 days later. One month later I had lost 47 lb! I attribute the bulk of this to water weight as I lost most once my knees and ankles were back to normal. I currently bounce about a pound below and a few pounds above my pre-baby weight, and about 5-10 pounds above my pre-IVF weight.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKEGGXZH61toJ-kst7zWQ3aiztn4dTN2m_WW6cAAUHrH2KlZrP7102cliOo2RFdLTkjwRbcV4QkDvjjOlZiL_kkWH7v6YYAdxvZdnT_Q80fMf4IDTHQ-QPTgDpRo47liJ6cqMoexoOhx2/s1600/IMG_0956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKEGGXZH61toJ-kst7zWQ3aiztn4dTN2m_WW6cAAUHrH2KlZrP7102cliOo2RFdLTkjwRbcV4QkDvjjOlZiL_kkWH7v6YYAdxvZdnT_Q80fMf4IDTHQ-QPTgDpRo47liJ6cqMoexoOhx2/s320/IMG_0956.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Induction day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznlQdxEkuaeYkD-e7YlZxcxPimi3L7ObnlKoW8OJ_MpQLZsNYbPoaSQmYJWGAhHAxoAZLdcmMlKF3Oz04q3xGhgLe81JKlcxsOuqlwZtVhyphenhyphenZy4Z6kXZEXKrjb18E0D_YTkW3whrq-xybj/s1600/IMG_1169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznlQdxEkuaeYkD-e7YlZxcxPimi3L7ObnlKoW8OJ_MpQLZsNYbPoaSQmYJWGAhHAxoAZLdcmMlKF3Oz04q3xGhgLe81JKlcxsOuqlwZtVhyphenhyphenZy4Z6kXZEXKrjb18E0D_YTkW3whrq-xybj/s320/IMG_1169.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">13 days after delivery</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFvUIYkw37mtzhLXXr93BUvK_yhNGHQXQCllD57DD5DFdklgKlfrHQ9Vq0kjQkmix9jyHpPhMzhfAILkUV5wM70ckNb2VesICJKHYZ36TV7CJhVq729nepmpLUnDeK_CVyw-zLZNbupmCH/s1600/IMG_1175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFvUIYkw37mtzhLXXr93BUvK_yhNGHQXQCllD57DD5DFdklgKlfrHQ9Vq0kjQkmix9jyHpPhMzhfAILkUV5wM70ckNb2VesICJKHYZ36TV7CJhVq729nepmpLUnDeK_CVyw-zLZNbupmCH/s320/IMG_1175.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">13 days after delivery -- not hard to feel skinny after as big as I was!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6PHzI5oLz7YUIdmwceTPy73aaHChBCW_eU5dDyc27qaUCUMkbxBQb7qBq2Ip5hkHCI3UVaZrsIuCTaEs9aZu8PmSdVXT3k3ECYVu_mpArq7Dl79NimWMD8WJgUmQVS1Qr6IGzqBEXmOoS/s1600/IMG_3993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6PHzI5oLz7YUIdmwceTPy73aaHChBCW_eU5dDyc27qaUCUMkbxBQb7qBq2Ip5hkHCI3UVaZrsIuCTaEs9aZu8PmSdVXT3k3ECYVu_mpArq7Dl79NimWMD8WJgUmQVS1Qr6IGzqBEXmOoS/s320/IMG_3993.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Halloween, about 3 weeks after delivery</td></tr>
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<br />
I have gone up a size or so in most of my clothes. I resized my wedding ring when it wouldn't come close to fitting over my knuckle. My feet seem to have mostly gone back to normal.<br />
<br />
I didn't expect "The Mom" look to come so fast.<br />
Maybe with two babies at once you accelerate along the path to Mom Bod that much faster.<br />
<br />
I feel like I went over 30 years without looking like a mom. I had hoped to avoid looking like a mom. I wanted to always look young and hip, with flat, hard abs. (Not that that was true before kids!) Instead, I feel I look tired. I look older. I don't seem to know or understand many of the current fashion trends (leggings as pants, still an utter mystery to me!) and find myself continuing to wear my maternity clothes (baggy is in, right?). And my abs? Well, while they have never been flat, I somehow managed to avoid diastasis recti (separation of the abdominal muscles) but I still have a little extra sag. And as I mentioned before, the stretch marks.<br />
<br />
But I couldn't be happier.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZAzC0VN6P4Fo1XjN5Q9ZDD2-rPgdSsei71BmqlTd66xt8Vl6CduWtJZ9Sm32JOUXU97-4SFChZTwb7gGGcwXk2Aqzr2gTpNZLwi7xzK5gR5xE7a4OCiEdS4qFUdn8SI5eWxCTSH-ECkW0/s1600/IMG_1280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZAzC0VN6P4Fo1XjN5Q9ZDD2-rPgdSsei71BmqlTd66xt8Vl6CduWtJZ9Sm32JOUXU97-4SFChZTwb7gGGcwXk2Aqzr2gTpNZLwi7xzK5gR5xE7a4OCiEdS4qFUdn8SI5eWxCTSH-ECkW0/s320/IMG_1280.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
Okay that's an exaggeration. I could be more pleased if I looked like Heidi Klum after all her babies. It would be nice to fit into all of my clothes again. To have beautifully taut belly skin and supple unstretched hips. But...I still don't think I would be happier. So maybe I was right...<br />
<br />
I couldn't be happier.<br />
<br />
Because really, the way I look at my body has completely transformed. No longer do I look at my body as an ornament to dress and adorn. No longer is it an object to perfect or to use to seek admiration. It isn't something to be sexualized or even demonized.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKyvszvzRQe_UQUcAP5AqOEL-CsfZzrkVVnpWCniyin24baY0calML1KRUNAVqV9VRc2SDkfTcAO5SLi8Pdgj9PDW5wNtPZoarNqlpwiTkMOG_xYdRZAMCqz5RL3-3vwiT78DdmQbjfcsT/s1600/DSC02687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKyvszvzRQe_UQUcAP5AqOEL-CsfZzrkVVnpWCniyin24baY0calML1KRUNAVqV9VRc2SDkfTcAO5SLi8Pdgj9PDW5wNtPZoarNqlpwiTkMOG_xYdRZAMCqz5RL3-3vwiT78DdmQbjfcsT/s320/DSC02687.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
It is a tool. It is an instrument. And an amazing one that has done amazing things. It has <u>survived</u> years of infertility. It has <u>overcome</u> hundred of shots and ravages on its system with synthetic hormones and mad scientist happenings. It has <u>carried</u> and <u>delivered</u> two healthy babies. It has <u>provided</u> much of their needed nutrition. All of this automatically, miraculously, without any input or feedback from me consciously.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: magenta;">***This is another post from my archives of works in progress. I wish I had finished it completely as I wonder exactly where I was going with it at the time, as it ends a bit abruptly. I contemplated adding another ending today but just didn't have the words. And it felt a bit fraudulent not to just ride the moment of the feelings I had then. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;">I wish I could say that I have held on to this new found confidence completely since those early months post partum, but I think it is quite normal to have days where I begrudge my stretch marks! I haven't lost any more weight (although I am back in my old clothes), I continue to battle hormonal imbalances while nursing that cause skin issues, and I have more than my fair share of bad hair days but I find almost a year later I still place less scrutiny on the appearance of my body than before where every flaw and imperfection was something to improve, fuss over, or loathe. </span><span style="color: red;">My main goal these days is to try to get healthy and back in shape. After exercise restrictions during my fertility treatments, a difficult pregnancy, and an overwhelmingly busy schedule with infant twins, exercise hasn't been much of a reality for over two years. As an athlete growing up, it is crazy to think I could ever go that long but I suppose life happens. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: magenta;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: red;">Every day is a new day! I feel so lucky to have this wonderful body to live it with. ***</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU85HW_aLz6frMrwnzwv01_XTwQcbPluyIy9FEXGT__yDLLp7pLaXcLIttKN3tcB_BRIuXRHQu6JHnFLV6Ok4HZPdBljXrZ0ybbmgDXrxsHN3_XjD76Zm5Rm2azAYSBLI7wsY77dXaCPkJ/s1600/IMG_0682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU85HW_aLz6frMrwnzwv01_XTwQcbPluyIy9FEXGT__yDLLp7pLaXcLIttKN3tcB_BRIuXRHQu6JHnFLV6Ok4HZPdBljXrZ0ybbmgDXrxsHN3_XjD76Zm5Rm2azAYSBLI7wsY77dXaCPkJ/s400/IMG_0682.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-41973546270864723742016-08-21T14:11:00.000-05:002016-08-21T14:14:33.370-05:00On the Go!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw2AyEWCnG0-YcJrMoU_5jVcoInNLtiQinVOsAIuowzsKgxAe0_Ik4IpdfPgzD2ZVk9XEPSI4KaKCuyMd6Z5UGTmS8bjiff51PI_uaiuMZD3TT6aYOakVY7sv1RNcX4dF8B2FW4MqsJVjK/s1600/IMG_2407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a></div>
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I started this post weeks ago. Here are some updates on what we've been up to instead of blogging.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vLvsmlkQjnliPGwsVGTHnuczGslw_WHrMKFYFxgQ-K4IWbQB8ipht8-Z2wVzWQu1X98kBvcdXzryMuQJiCbUei57EWmXHjQvKo7RoSOi02Qhz_DykEwP7dl7F2iKaUqTMvCEA6SrcJsF/s1600/DSC03675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vLvsmlkQjnliPGwsVGTHnuczGslw_WHrMKFYFxgQ-K4IWbQB8ipht8-Z2wVzWQu1X98kBvcdXzryMuQJiCbUei57EWmXHjQvKo7RoSOi02Qhz_DykEwP7dl7F2iKaUqTMvCEA6SrcJsF/s400/DSC03675.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The past few months have been a whirlwind of change...for the babies and for our family as a whole.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGvBuDKesO5PcZED-Ak4f68WzBrhAkdou7OCWFaWoyGCCiqDcMVpkIIhCd3JyZcHiuGjILCL-jtEY6ZtyBpKMKPqxu19IiHof8q98Kw4ZMH53L_iF2r6lpM5O0py3kLifAp7YOwgkhtgn/s1600/IMG_2290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYGvBuDKesO5PcZED-Ak4f68WzBrhAkdou7OCWFaWoyGCCiqDcMVpkIIhCd3JyZcHiuGjILCL-jtEY6ZtyBpKMKPqxu19IiHof8q98Kw4ZMH53L_iF2r6lpM5O0py3kLifAp7YOwgkhtgn/s400/IMG_2290.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meeting cousins for the first time: my twin sister and her family. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrdajdT10vmaQZcmEPCkritwLUj6_gLqbbxQSqlxpxkBxu-Kigq5ZXNt67UZ90me_0DqwcdvJXhUZzV-P2wamdbCZ-s1MeApxnYIFlZgTFEAdfCBdxrEryGrH4qKiP989KsX0UbGv3r_3/s1600/DSC03669.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrdajdT10vmaQZcmEPCkritwLUj6_gLqbbxQSqlxpxkBxu-Kigq5ZXNt67UZ90me_0DqwcdvJXhUZzV-P2wamdbCZ-s1MeApxnYIFlZgTFEAdfCBdxrEryGrH4qKiP989KsX0UbGv3r_3/s400/DSC03669.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meeting another cousin, Uncle Colt, <br />
and Uncle Colt's beard (kinda scary for the babies!)</td></tr>
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Since May we took our first family vacation over Memorial Day. It was a quick tour of the Southwest starting with a few days to visit family in Utah, followed by job interviews in Tucson, AZ and Las Cruces, NM and passing through El Paso, TX. The babies were great traveling companions and learned they like the pool, especially Sister, at least at first. We really enjoyed our time in the SW and were pleasantly surprised. Maybe we will find our way back there? It did confirm my suspicion that I would like to live in a pueblo style house. And have a cactus or two in the yard.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLt8Jnyj1k-ucFRGt5OGl9rD6Ax9Tp-RGpNnOJUct3plULnVHMSOR0p1Dh3VJ8-9fKYTbI6iG2B9FqFRPPnAPea-2aPCDD5STWboHqjJ77haNCLKc412sNNokJ5EkEykWvgHNBJtkw7_H/s1600/DSC03712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLt8Jnyj1k-ucFRGt5OGl9rD6Ax9Tp-RGpNnOJUct3plULnVHMSOR0p1Dh3VJ8-9fKYTbI6iG2B9FqFRPPnAPea-2aPCDD5STWboHqjJ77haNCLKc412sNNokJ5EkEykWvgHNBJtkw7_H/s400/DSC03712.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White Sands National Park in NM</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjThTZEuYJHP3_nuCE2cSvPdZDOrdYfemnUE4I7QIWRMzL2VCuwfkQe1cH8LtsfmD5HnttwYBELihyphenhyphenOHknnotyvcWZquzHmCUK53D4knkiTHShxt3iKW3i-4dDic6HY0lTBFxP-0ATERXu/s1600/IMG_2293.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjThTZEuYJHP3_nuCE2cSvPdZDOrdYfemnUE4I7QIWRMzL2VCuwfkQe1cH8LtsfmD5HnttwYBELihyphenhyphenOHknnotyvcWZquzHmCUK53D4knkiTHShxt3iKW3i-4dDic6HY0lTBFxP-0ATERXu/s320/IMG_2293.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course, pueblo with hanging chilis. <br />
Sister liked the spicy food!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfzRvfty81tLpCM8vh9xETKKxeXM90Apjqz-eq-cfVskjXt4C75A7y_cnQrmmCwp84LItQqS3JzhFC950hhAHmqYaq9jB9zrWalkfF_7sVjWJA7DponCNOFMyjVkH4HAqr8Jo6xL_ubig3/s1600/DSC03680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfzRvfty81tLpCM8vh9xETKKxeXM90Apjqz-eq-cfVskjXt4C75A7y_cnQrmmCwp84LItQqS3JzhFC950hhAHmqYaq9jB9zrWalkfF_7sVjWJA7DponCNOFMyjVkH4HAqr8Jo6xL_ubig3/s320/DSC03680.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First time in the pool A little tricky with two!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43epbor3Re0wtAcIt2PmQyaGHJnZfhnWE9R3ISeFe1cxfxycnTryAFdoGcBCrf0pbo3a0Yb4hydfztFKH0LyT-UdlMTz1C-aKPIMpgJjXK-9bJQf7fj1YbU2t0n7kZxUWutxYjFbb92nW/s1600/IMG_2283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh43epbor3Re0wtAcIt2PmQyaGHJnZfhnWE9R3ISeFe1cxfxycnTryAFdoGcBCrf0pbo3a0Yb4hydfztFKH0LyT-UdlMTz1C-aKPIMpgJjXK-9bJQf7fj1YbU2t0n7kZxUWutxYjFbb92nW/s320/IMG_2283.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always good sports! </td></tr>
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We also made a weekend trip to Minneapolis to meet my sister and her family who were there for a conference. The highlight of the trip was going to a Minnesota Twins baseball game. "Twins holding twins at a Twins game!" What could be better?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWZGSF7Ko36F9eaH_LJwFg9nWm3NqvEK8g_oFKcJdFQ848XH8a8JNx6NDdMt1jfzDAjAOgKmxmiH9bebohF_B-s7jSaFIQg26ZKfsjiErqblUakpO9HAtnv-v1RQm3c8miebkf4nt5vbM/s1600/IMG_1389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWZGSF7Ko36F9eaH_LJwFg9nWm3NqvEK8g_oFKcJdFQ848XH8a8JNx6NDdMt1jfzDAjAOgKmxmiH9bebohF_B-s7jSaFIQg26ZKfsjiErqblUakpO9HAtnv-v1RQm3c8miebkf4nt5vbM/s320/IMG_1389.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you tell who is who?</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz16NS5dHF5mcp_xK5WMcq-SFwNY_Wuifew6k5wACVQfQiVxTS3_rStrn9irihltlDAE2NivmDBUucQMnGCjlCD6BzMbN7GWTuo6cBsWD6ULUy7hi8GhwmptjYzDwJn6YA6ZSeeBpBQXHq/s1600/IMG_1396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz16NS5dHF5mcp_xK5WMcq-SFwNY_Wuifew6k5wACVQfQiVxTS3_rStrn9irihltlDAE2NivmDBUucQMnGCjlCD6BzMbN7GWTuo6cBsWD6ULUy7hi8GhwmptjYzDwJn6YA6ZSeeBpBQXHq/s320/IMG_1396.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibH3uO5M8UCQKtqnc_JldHcp3KqOY6IUTrtILWA9faSkXY8-hHP6wQHVAmShOqkJQbeY-4xNydkeirsghWXL_BxycKvusHXf75_6gcs4p6ze2JA0_wlJMWZ3ZsrGDHQSW5THy96VzcTCmk/s1600/IMG_1392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibH3uO5M8UCQKtqnc_JldHcp3KqOY6IUTrtILWA9faSkXY8-hHP6wQHVAmShOqkJQbeY-4xNydkeirsghWXL_BxycKvusHXf75_6gcs4p6ze2JA0_wlJMWZ3ZsrGDHQSW5THy96VzcTCmk/s320/IMG_1392.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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We will continue our job hunt here in the Midwest as well and make a few more interview trips. The babies have been great travel companions and make friends wherever we go. We have even been lucky to have family accompany us on some of these trips to help with babysitting and all of the logistics of our schedules.<br />
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Abe and I have also both had some job transitions. Abe finished his fourth year of residency by completing his most recent Head and Neck surgery block, and is beginning his fifth and final year of residency. I have never known Abe to not be in his training so this is such an unusual concept -- to see the light at the end of the tunnel so fast approaching after so many years in the dark. So far it has been an improvement already with shorter days at work much of the time.<br />
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While I had planned to stay at my current position in Burlington at least another year, I unexpectedly had a late change of plans and now cut my commute in half to work in Muscatine. While I am heartbroken to leave my staff and patients in Burlington, this will be an improvement in many ways! The biggest and best part is that I will be working part time with a shorter commute and thus home with Mister and Sister more than half of the week. I am really excited to join the team in Muscatine and look forward to meeting many more wonderful people along the way.<br />
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I have been busy finalizing things with my previous job and getting paperwork settled for the new position. In the meantime, I am home for a few weeks until my new position begins. My nanny is continuing to work her normal schedule with us so right now I am living a la "Real Housewives of Iowa" style-- at home while my full time nanny helps out. Needless to say, I am catching up on LIFE a little bit -- getting my house in order, starting up an exercise routine, playing with babies much more, and you know, getting my hair did or going grocery shopping alone whenever I want!<br />
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And then there are the babies. They are getting so big! We passed our "In and Out Day" last month -- a big deal in the "mom of multiples" community, when your babies have been out as long as they were in. We really wanted to celebrate at the restaurant In 'N' Out but there was none to be found in Iowa!<br />
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They are now nine months old and getting so big. No really, they are getting really big! It seems like they are bigger than all of the one year olds we meet. We are getting to the point that carrying them both in their carseats is a struggle. And we are starting the baby proofing progress as Sister learned to crawl and stand and get into everything and find power cords to chew on and get maimed or killed all within the last few days. AACK. Mister is not far behind, just starting to crawl and stand.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWgjhL8DySw0B80Ue79qxbU5hxfNoooUwNpB387v0k8BiJw8dpxABQnVW-hkBrle-gIdwyxB3RRQ9fpH_EvvqyQczzwZb-u4oe3AleUiCJv8Zb5KUAlsi26UAaOYhf2PFY7JtWzg-RD3s/s1600/IMG_2300.MOV" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWgjhL8DySw0B80Ue79qxbU5hxfNoooUwNpB387v0k8BiJw8dpxABQnVW-hkBrle-gIdwyxB3RRQ9fpH_EvvqyQczzwZb-u4oe3AleUiCJv8Zb5KUAlsi26UAaOYhf2PFY7JtWzg-RD3s/s640/IMG_2300.MOV" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy sure loves his bottles!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPSltoCdIva_xm1t_KdY3OMzEqt58Tg-pTn2gkjkTID7Euma5XpMPNv2SriF8WmIBtK9c4I12_Uw4RLP6KyrwCMLqN441fGvXQFAaTS7e_z8aKjAbcmTEIGa8BNmJto-4wx3N3goPWQS2Z/s1600/IMG_7036.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPSltoCdIva_xm1t_KdY3OMzEqt58Tg-pTn2gkjkTID7Euma5XpMPNv2SriF8WmIBtK9c4I12_Uw4RLP6KyrwCMLqN441fGvXQFAaTS7e_z8aKjAbcmTEIGa8BNmJto-4wx3N3goPWQS2Z/s320/IMG_7036.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">First corn for this Iowa native!</td></tr>
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We finally got some sleep training on board and they now go to bed consistently and sleep through the night most nights. What a relief after a major sleep regression.<br />
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So, it has been an incredibly busy and stressful time. But also a wonderful time. We are trying to enjoy all that life has to offer while making big changes and big decisions.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-avEOXWKTtTYra4gR7wO6vniWN0RXzfMZheNck89ySyaW3AaRcuByvqdwHRoKmI70U3YVoTNV3Ya7NliMO9mTZW5qaul1_9M2n7A9BtxQbwTMudE9wJy5qmx9aS-7b-pDiFD6hliL_vS/s1600/IMG_2275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE-avEOXWKTtTYra4gR7wO6vniWN0RXzfMZheNck89ySyaW3AaRcuByvqdwHRoKmI70U3YVoTNV3Ya7NliMO9mTZW5qaul1_9M2n7A9BtxQbwTMudE9wJy5qmx9aS-7b-pDiFD6hliL_vS/s400/IMG_2275.JPG" width="320" /></a>Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-55072603112353325622016-07-19T16:55:00.001-05:002016-07-19T16:55:41.027-05:00Smurfs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, life with two babies doesn't seem to slow down much. I've sat down multiple times to try to write and haven't been able to finish a post. So, here is a nice easy one to break up the silence.<br />
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Just because...<br />
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...these two Smurfs are too cute to keep to myself.<br />
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(Now if only I were a photographer and a photoshopper!)<br />
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I thought this photo sequence was funny. Typical twin life.</div>
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And along with that, yes, we subscribe to the diapers on heads</div>
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as entertainment philosophy!</div>
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<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-38997085826291965412016-05-08T14:58:00.000-05:002016-05-08T15:14:41.985-05:00My Complex Mother's Day, or is it My Mother's Day Complex?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today is my first REAL Mother's Day.<br />
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Last year felt like the first time I was given <i>permission</i> to "enjoy" Mother's Day, as I was pregnant and on my way to motherhood.<br />
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Before that, ever since I turned 18 I have found Mother's Day to be awkward at best and sometimes even sad and disappointing. Of course I am speaking selfishly on my own relationship with this day as a woman, not on the wonderful notion of it as a time to honor my own mother and the other women who have blessed my life. For that reason it should be a great day for all. But beyond that it has been on my short list of least favorite days for years.<br />
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Usually Mother's Day consists of going to church to hear sermons on other people's angel mothers. Then, each lesson focuses on the wonderful nature of mothers, followed by some kind of small trinket delivered to the women by the men or children of the congregation-- it used to be a small flower to plant and seems to have transitioned to a small chocolate. For the sake of sensitivity or perhaps just logistics, any woman over 18 is usually awarded with said trinket and often thank you's and kind words.<br />
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Hence the awkwardness:<br />
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when I was too young for children it felt like lauding me with praise and a gift on Mother's Day was taking away from the real work Mother's do and for which they deserve to be praised. And when I was ready for children who would not come, I felt like an imposter. It was a painful reminder that I hadn't done any of those things yet to be thanked for. And not for lack of desire or trying.<br />
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So today I was ready to soak it all in --the cheesy talks praising each speaker's mother; the lessons that skip over the assigned topic for the day in lieu of a Mother's Day tribute; and, of course some kind of treat at the end. After years of awkwardness, sadness, and disappointment, I was ready, armed with only a tad bit of guilt (knowing how many women would still be feeling those feelings--I still have survivor's guilt at times).<br />
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And none of that happened.<br />
I was a little disappointed.<br />
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But my infertile self was relieved. (Do those feelings ever go away?)<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">And really, maybe it was pretty appropriate for my first Mother's Day. Because being a mother isn't about "soaking it all in," or about being praised, or receiving much in return in way of chocolate or even flowers. </span><br />
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For me, being a mother is about waking up in the middle of the night to soothe crying babies.<br />
(Or even just to pump at 3 am to try to make enough milk to pretend that you are still feeding your two babies enough breast milk to make it worth the hours per day you are attached to that machine.) And getting up again before dawn to feed them before leaving early for work.<br />
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It is about never doing your hair and baby bodily fluids as your most common accessory. And somehow not minding.<br />
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It is about doing whatever it takes for baby smiles and laughs (and trying your hardest to catch it on video for grandma).<br />
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It is long long walks in the stroller pushing 40 pounds of baby up rolling Iowa hills to pick up Daddy after a long day of work because you can't seem to keep two babies happy a minute longer inside the house. And then walking back home alone when you find out he is stuck unexpectedly in the OR until midnight and you are on baby duty alone after a hard day of work.<br />
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It is sharing your body with another person (or two) and being okay (most days) with the changes left behind.<br />
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Or about lugging a double stroller everywhere you go and doing the shopping cart-stroller train to buy groceries while pretending you aren't a spectacle. And sincerely smiling when people tell you, "You have your hands full!" Because you are so glad you do!<br />
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It is changing your goals after 15 years of hard work and taking professional setbacks and knowing/hoping it will all be worth it somehow.<br />
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It is coming home after a long hard day to smiles and slobbery kisses and squishy chubby thighs.<br />
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* * *</div>
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It is about miracles. . . Some already here and some waiting to happen.<br />
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For many, I know it is still about heartache and longing, waiting and disappointment. Or about the wishes for the mother you never had or wished you had had or missing the one who has already left you. Or for the one who is lost that made you a mother.<br />
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* * *</div>
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Whatever this complex day brings for you, I hope you can find some peace and sunshine. And hopefully some chocolate.<br />
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XOXOXO,<br />
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ErinErinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-87184563563302847362016-03-16T14:56:00.002-05:002016-03-16T14:56:56.686-05:00From Belly To Birth and Abdominal Stirrings<div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo cred: <a href="http://www.sarahsilerphotography.com/#!/HOME">Sarah Siler Photography</a></td></tr>
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This morning I woke up with some rumblings in my tummy and a little bloating. My first thought was, "Oh my gosh, I'm pregnant!" Funny how my recent pregnancy made that my context for abdominal happenings. With my history of infertility combined with the fact that I am not only nursing but using an IUD, that would indeed be a miracle!</div>
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Luckily I shouldn't be reliving the joys of pregnancy any time soon (wouldn't that be crazy while raising infant twins!?) from a literal standpoint, but you can reminisce with me if you would like as my birth story was featured today on the blog <a href="http://frombellytobirth.com/" target="_blank">From Belly to Birth.</a> Megan shares some really interesting posts highlighting pregnancy and the birthing process, focusing specifically on the varied and unique experiences we have as women bringing these babies into the world. Many of the stories are touching reads and also provide good information for women with questions about their own upcoming births or those hoping to understand more about childbirth (guys?).</div>
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Feel free to check out my post (and others). While it is very similar to my original post it has a few added details and back story. I was surprised how much I enjoyed reading it back and the emotions it stirred up. I am glad that I documented it as the details get fuzzy after even a short period of time.</div>
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Enjoy!</div>
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/goog_575142168"><br /></a></div>
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<a href="http://frombellytobirth.com/2016/03/16/ivf-boy-girl-twins/">http://frombellytobirth.com/2016/03/16/ivf-boy-girl-twins/</a></div>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-73489976111608359522016-03-05T22:38:00.000-06:002016-03-05T23:08:02.749-06:00First in the Nation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of the advantages (and sometimes disadvantages) of living in Iowa is that we get to be very involved in the political system due to our "first in the nation" caucus. This gives us many opportunities to view political ads (make them stop!), meet the candidates, and spend a lot of time thinking about Republicans and Democrats.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Campaign buses: a common site leading up to the election</td></tr>
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Abe has been interested in politics ever since I have known him. (Funny enough, although not on purpose, both babies share names with political commentators.) Growing up in Utah, where most of the candidates don't even bother campaigning, I had very little political exposure. I remember being surprised to see my first political add on TV -- "They have commercials for the presidential candidates?"<br />
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Abe has taught me to enjoy the involvement we get to have as Iowans and we try to attend events for the candidates where we can. Some of the people we have met or seen in the past include multiple times for Obama (even before he started his presidential campaign) and Romney, Guilliani, and Ron Paul. We have been to rallies, dinners, meet and greets, and the Iowa Straw Poll.<br />
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This year we have been quite busy (surprise!) and we were unable to make as many events this cycle as we have in the past. We attempted to attend a Trump rally with Sister but after standing in a winding line (out the door, down the street, and through a parking garage) for about 90 minutes we made it to the doors only to be turned away due to a full venue.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I don't want to see Trump, I just want to go home!"</td></tr>
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The babies and Abe were able to meet Dr. Ben Carson later in the week in the warmth of the indoors.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">While waiting during a photo-op, Abe told Dr. Carson he should check the babies' fontanelles. He said, "I was just thinking that" and said they were both "good." Not many healthy babies get an exam from a famous pediatric Neurosurgeon!</span></div>
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We were also able to meet Chris Christie...(I even asked him a question about his policies for mothers and families)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpfn0D3KXLzm2K2gyRLgLPIUEjjucPlCBYj-nlUvyD6OBcBjoAZLzCrsmNpMyO-cXKS_6X1zulXDpSuoA59y39CCicrGoWSKOnj3Luv9cj8A01bEIqnqDdC6KN-0zz1nyA4plVXIlpCsM/s1600/DSC03265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBpfn0D3KXLzm2K2gyRLgLPIUEjjucPlCBYj-nlUvyD6OBcBjoAZLzCrsmNpMyO-cXKS_6X1zulXDpSuoA59y39CCicrGoWSKOnj3Luv9cj8A01bEIqnqDdC6KN-0zz1nyA4plVXIlpCsM/s640/DSC03265.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">...and Rand Paul. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmEkQh7wr6eSQtbWJnCeOWWZHsH0CH8lzgYmvoIzze7X2J-i8FmVawfr_ZEhfjRFg-C2TF45pmUkeP-sA1x5PIA4MXVmTKvErOwpIA4AX4nA4iB7-CADd2fH8zmWpbvSsddf06TWnFw9y/s1600/DSC03275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmEkQh7wr6eSQtbWJnCeOWWZHsH0CH8lzgYmvoIzze7X2J-i8FmVawfr_ZEhfjRFg-C2TF45pmUkeP-sA1x5PIA4MXVmTKvErOwpIA4AX4nA4iB7-CADd2fH8zmWpbvSsddf06TWnFw9y/s640/DSC03275.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And we snuck in a picture with Ron Paul.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLnDr8AOKxvHKU4s8hdbOV3RUVrKR9rj2udm5XHE_vCRfCazz_kz5xCffB2efG_NAYG3ZMUXjSSyw3UIpbdF0UlQpuEhdRh85oRHZhmBxvtWW9j0Su4QAwS0EuqZIGBQM8eXav2rdobId/s1600/IMG_1542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpLnDr8AOKxvHKU4s8hdbOV3RUVrKR9rj2udm5XHE_vCRfCazz_kz5xCffB2efG_NAYG3ZMUXjSSyw3UIpbdF0UlQpuEhdRh85oRHZhmBxvtWW9j0Su4QAwS0EuqZIGBQM8eXav2rdobId/s640/IMG_1542.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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The babies were a huge hit at most of the events with multiple reporters wanting to talk to us about them from the local student newspaper to national papers such as the New Jersey Star Ledger and the Iowa Press Citizen and even a reporter from Sweden and another from Ireland. Mister seemed perfectly content with the hubbub and energy of the crowd at the large Rand Paul event but poor Sister found the loud applause and cheering a bit frightening. Poor baby! I guess she isn't a Libertarian, after all.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfGsGu6JXMsnKIOxjZ-2izhtHrHSSjPepGhOu7H_Bg_cgiBNcYEnZtYATnUxNl16snl92PRBL227OkMljTGUPj1Fc2III22m4GOh-M5FKwAcl9u4ghP33QIcVX6Rvav_ApxGWnaeX287Jo/s1600/DSC03268.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfGsGu6JXMsnKIOxjZ-2izhtHrHSSjPepGhOu7H_Bg_cgiBNcYEnZtYATnUxNl16snl92PRBL227OkMljTGUPj1Fc2III22m4GOh-M5FKwAcl9u4ghP33QIcVX6Rvav_ApxGWnaeX287Jo/s640/DSC03268.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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I wish we would have been able to introduce the babies to all of the candidates (if only we had more foresight and a little more time!). But were glad they were able to get some pictures with a few candidates and they were even the headline feature in a few Iowa newspapers and mentioned in the Irish Times! As an identical twin myself I am quite aware that twins are popular but I wasn't expected to be so interesting to reporters covering international news.<br />
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<a href="http://www.desmoinesregister.com/story/news/elections/presidential/caucus/2016/01/30/these-4-month-old-twins-cutest-thing-you-see-caucus-event-today/79563570/" target="_blank">Des Moines Register/Press Citizen: These 4 month old twins are the cutest thing you will see at the caucuses today</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.irishtimes.com/news/world/us/republicans-pull-out-all-the-stops-in-iowa-ahead-of-caucuses-1.2517143" target="_blank">Irish Times: Republicans pull out all of the stops in Iowa</a><br />
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One reality of having twins is that everyone wants to tell you about "their" twins, whether that is the set of twins they went to school with, their own children, or their distant cousins. Even Mrs. Paul (Ron Paul's wife and Rand Paul's mother) wanted to talk to us about her twins, her daughter's twin girls who are now in high school.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEwb54Rz4CWxoaFfu5OpEyhrHOJgrn1Mf-keHl8b-auGN3fXCUhaSEPCq5t6w573pLAOL5A075vIxvgROe16Z9IHed4aveNUUoppzT0kwgoqrdf9W7tvcSLeVVesQSLRnn_zM7AKvWH2ck/s1600/DSC03279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEwb54Rz4CWxoaFfu5OpEyhrHOJgrn1Mf-keHl8b-auGN3fXCUhaSEPCq5t6w573pLAOL5A075vIxvgROe16Z9IHed4aveNUUoppzT0kwgoqrdf9W7tvcSLeVVesQSLRnn_zM7AKvWH2ck/s400/DSC03279.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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And although not a political figure, the babies were able to meet local celebrity Kirk Ferentz, the coach of the Iowa Hawkeye Football team while at the Chris Christie event. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1soOBfFAznBX2ADfUypKDiJxhQqDQJSA-jSVz835ZTrhscW2Zsrx9RsWqTqDtzQN1tj6jbNto-804b2o2qEMBduibbixEdPzqEtFPT0psw5f3yfw49-eIN2kKosXBRmj5Jh4-bIAVxuYC/s1600/DSC03266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1soOBfFAznBX2ADfUypKDiJxhQqDQJSA-jSVz835ZTrhscW2Zsrx9RsWqTqDtzQN1tj6jbNto-804b2o2qEMBduibbixEdPzqEtFPT0psw5f3yfw49-eIN2kKosXBRmj5Jh4-bIAVxuYC/s640/DSC03266.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Maybe we will get some more chances for twin photo ops in another four years!<br />
<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-73581042641317274862016-02-14T19:00:00.000-06:002016-02-14T22:48:09.712-06:00Catching Up <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQlca4qEgk45hJFaPiBbyVrawIE3z4615i0r-o08xM7UgJX8yyOgPcOHkFpEpI8cT62SLG-vdjwcZjS4PUcXu6NRdeDNR05gB9rKmunYiV19D9HCeZc3Zh4diwgB9NcbgaWklWncD67j5/s1600/IMG_0334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQlca4qEgk45hJFaPiBbyVrawIE3z4615i0r-o08xM7UgJX8yyOgPcOHkFpEpI8cT62SLG-vdjwcZjS4PUcXu6NRdeDNR05gB9rKmunYiV19D9HCeZc3Zh4diwgB9NcbgaWklWncD67j5/s400/IMG_0334.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Last night for Valentine's Day Abe planned a date for us --weeks in advance! A real it-is-like-we-are-single-again-and-have-to-plan-to-impress kind of a date. With free babysitting (our Christmas present from Abe's sister) and even free overnight babysitting (from Abe's parents just because they are awesome).<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii8ivFMJOtdf3rlNoNgmteISKtIVOp1QWIi5ctPzgMO_zLXeHeaps4PxkVwCkKkVWXrs03VQFOjhmxvx_4bKGpPcu-vbiSGEUeIdrIValT3YAHMwOORLvq05ezy1K5ljM8hJtr4XK4-Njs/s1600/IMG_1553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii8ivFMJOtdf3rlNoNgmteISKtIVOp1QWIi5ctPzgMO_zLXeHeaps4PxkVwCkKkVWXrs03VQFOjhmxvx_4bKGpPcu-vbiSGEUeIdrIValT3YAHMwOORLvq05ezy1K5ljM8hJtr4XK4-Njs/s640/IMG_1553.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
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We had a real night of romance with burgers from Teddy's Bigger Burgers followed by a Second City comedy show here in town. We had hoped for a nice dinner before but when you have two babies things don't always go as planned, so we settled on something quick --burgers. We had also hoped to leisurely enjoy our burgers but evidently it takes about 25 minutes to make burgers at a place that looks fast food-ey and so we had all of 5 minutes to eat before we had to run over to the show. (Ha!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyxOJN7nuZX2UCIuGTf0udfmi6SoU44YB0Hwuaxrw0CzDDTZrO7nWnztdoeDFYjmAydngTRBlqLte-lAWvpsOyy2HqF2A6fKgjYlYhq88TDFhiZ5uNF4zt5BA9CEGpSqWONkxnM2JH7gxX/s1600/IMG_0456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyxOJN7nuZX2UCIuGTf0udfmi6SoU44YB0Hwuaxrw0CzDDTZrO7nWnztdoeDFYjmAydngTRBlqLte-lAWvpsOyy2HqF2A6fKgjYlYhq88TDFhiZ5uNF4zt5BA9CEGpSqWONkxnM2JH7gxX/s640/IMG_0456.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlRvtKRwsIpxuT_6-LfjeKe4RLFQUwZXWDZntO1J-Hl7uQEHPryZVUyA48KMITl0xEtKYGnsy5xgtBTQv5L7iBCEkyPrpcCOirIlZq40d65cgbxSi8OOwQS9-CbHKXVbU1w0qYKpo_J4do/s1600/IMG_0304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlRvtKRwsIpxuT_6-LfjeKe4RLFQUwZXWDZntO1J-Hl7uQEHPryZVUyA48KMITl0xEtKYGnsy5xgtBTQv5L7iBCEkyPrpcCOirIlZq40d65cgbxSi8OOwQS9-CbHKXVbU1w0qYKpo_J4do/s640/IMG_0304.JPG" width="476" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture makes me laugh! Couch potatoes.</td></tr>
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After a way too fast uninterrupted night of sleep I awoke sadly to my alarm. I wanted to sleep more but knew I needed extra time to get ready for church, pick up babies, and maybe have time to pump. And then church was cancelled. Evidently it is snowing outside. So I slowed down the pace on my oatmeal slurping (everyday breakfast lately, evidently good for milk supply. Eh.) and decided to take full advantage while my in laws kept the babies and took them to their (un-cancelled) church. After almost an hour pump session I decided to take advantage of almost three more hours of delicious sleep. (Abe is at the hospital rounding and on call during all of this, by the way.) What could be better for a sleep deprived mommy of twins who wakes up too early to feed babies and drive to work and back every day and goes to bed altogether too late to have time to pump and have a free minute for herself after bedtime?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsfAC5iNh9-tPzzjZKYEw56AcpHlkimLhDoeBuhkY1OcnuKgKHlu9T1fNsuRlIF0iIAQiDg9Pd_pU0-Yb9dDdQ6aaSsnZ7e2I9ahO9HjRNM9-DyY2BpIkk5813BiezO3Z4azkhnBtL3qf/s1600/IMG_1611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsfAC5iNh9-tPzzjZKYEw56AcpHlkimLhDoeBuhkY1OcnuKgKHlu9T1fNsuRlIF0iIAQiDg9Pd_pU0-Yb9dDdQ6aaSsnZ7e2I9ahO9HjRNM9-DyY2BpIkk5813BiezO3Z4azkhnBtL3qf/s400/IMG_1611.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Except I guess mommy has too much on her mind because here I am unable to sleep. And so what's the next best thing? Blogging? I hope so because that is what I am going to try to do!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2rE2TJnbjr5Zcen3Xz0apX6QS3PlCOSCpDsArPera837XWzoH1L3tgafx3afpp8jfnxr9NamEB8KZ2b2TNZc0NpYTagmfWXp0Ro2SYGuWL35PZtjWP_HmsBnt6t05EyIimMiQjSWXi6Sv/s1600/IMG_0253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2rE2TJnbjr5Zcen3Xz0apX6QS3PlCOSCpDsArPera837XWzoH1L3tgafx3afpp8jfnxr9NamEB8KZ2b2TNZc0NpYTagmfWXp0Ro2SYGuWL35PZtjWP_HmsBnt6t05EyIimMiQjSWXi6Sv/s320/IMG_0253.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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We have had a few big happenings around here. Abe (now known as Daddy) is back at work at the hospital. After 10 glorious and well timed weeks on research (meaning more flexibility and time at home!) he is back to the grind of long hours of surgery, call, rounding, etc. In the meantime, we found a nanny we really like who seems to be doing a great job. I really battled with myself on the way to go with childcare and in the end I decided I feel most comfortable knowing they are being well taken care of in our own home, with less opportunities to get sick, and more flexibility for me and help with things like baby laundry and bottles.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCVutJhGnucervCTniGw0SLjDq3StV9kPBDuAP7o6Cc5jEPo6DUqvHJ0OIOkgHueCB1U5RzaoGyyM_GUy0lNaGZfyuND6Vfoqc2BStOA1JuvUX0QiijFdqonUZAkkF22nh4MCrUssFDsg1/s1600/DSC03230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCVutJhGnucervCTniGw0SLjDq3StV9kPBDuAP7o6Cc5jEPo6DUqvHJ0OIOkgHueCB1U5RzaoGyyM_GUy0lNaGZfyuND6Vfoqc2BStOA1JuvUX0QiijFdqonUZAkkF22nh4MCrUssFDsg1/s320/DSC03230.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitixUOEvHyq33f0qLg6nE1v57zeskN4hb_AIWy_OeHz9gmYYwFs1wM9lhaTSfWrCDz3SpusaJ7Abj6TgUmfQnzcbmB72sRkGXSJg1HAVorjbkbiEilL47zWy0EkjDvh7xjJ3Dv6kXcTQ6J/s1600/IMG_1597.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitixUOEvHyq33f0qLg6nE1v57zeskN4hb_AIWy_OeHz9gmYYwFs1wM9lhaTSfWrCDz3SpusaJ7Abj6TgUmfQnzcbmB72sRkGXSJg1HAVorjbkbiEilL47zWy0EkjDvh7xjJ3Dv6kXcTQ6J/s320/IMG_1597.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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And I finally completed my boards. I hope. Assuming I passed. I left the babies while I flew to Dallas for the test earlier this month to become a board certified Oral and Maxillofacial Surgeon. Obviously having two babies at home made studying a challenge and I was quite nervous and dreading the trip. I was nervous about leaving the babies for the first time and really missed them. Luckily, despite the stress of the test it ended up being a pretty nice trip.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWAke7UxT9rXLhJ2NEfEkLiFOF5qdw-mJCVY489JLpGgVbhmLsNEsaUVv0KfVf9WnfD5ZYvlz2ETT1Pxur65KvJSgPwpcuq3eH79x6skN-2R0-a7R8Jy7dRsVReB-n0svoj8eFEb_WV4Iq/s1600/IMG_1550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWAke7UxT9rXLhJ2NEfEkLiFOF5qdw-mJCVY489JLpGgVbhmLsNEsaUVv0KfVf9WnfD5ZYvlz2ETT1Pxur65KvJSgPwpcuq3eH79x6skN-2R0-a7R8Jy7dRsVReB-n0svoj8eFEb_WV4Iq/s320/IMG_1550.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quiet time</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD48W033MMJUZutr_MF_ip3M6A27KP4S_ivsKcMjBzqIQC4BGAJZaOn7NS-B1Ut_xJzdW0NZSKuFP-w6k730xe0990pqxC6AtGlA9mdCShgfy3G7hubSnYun0YMuAy0aq9PNXdesyxpegc/s1600/IMG_1559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD48W033MMJUZutr_MF_ip3M6A27KP4S_ivsKcMjBzqIQC4BGAJZaOn7NS-B1Ut_xJzdW0NZSKuFP-w6k730xe0990pqxC6AtGlA9mdCShgfy3G7hubSnYun0YMuAy0aq9PNXdesyxpegc/s320/IMG_1559.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On my way to the test!</td></tr>
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When I found out I was pregnant with triplets I joined a secret group on Facebook for other triplet moms. Even though I lost our Baby C early on, I was encouraged to stay. "Once a triplet mom, always a triplet mom." I have been able to gain support and learn a lot about being a mom of multiple babies from this group and have made a few friends as well. I was excited to meet up with one in person while I was in Dallas. It was really great to meet Sara Jo who works in the dental field and also has "twinplets" after losing one of her babies early on. Luckily, she wasn't a serial killer or even a creep! She very generously picked me up from the airport, took me to lunch with her adorable identical twins, and then to celebrate after the test by treating me to dinner. It felt like we were old friends and I am sad we are so far away because I think we really hit it off. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxW1R4TYbbj2tiYGCbQYTgKgGj7QxaeEiDtt8GNwekykaGAhKSNdBMRIuKVWb51ZwVrmtpH6WjVE5ZLHDdmCLFTgkxjo_0x_zGdMf7hfe7AUBdPZFBVm5O5d5un1lamNIyG4aZ8Lpb2_o6/s1600/IMG_1560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxW1R4TYbbj2tiYGCbQYTgKgGj7QxaeEiDtt8GNwekykaGAhKSNdBMRIuKVWb51ZwVrmtpH6WjVE5ZLHDdmCLFTgkxjo_0x_zGdMf7hfe7AUBdPZFBVm5O5d5un1lamNIyG4aZ8Lpb2_o6/s400/IMG_1560.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebration with a chocolate piñata --it's a Texas thing</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKCGeFjhudSfYR6XJBvR1eWHOsE_BqE9RQibeYpcnbZHWS_XJ_X81YCIK9b_BRqVZ20epd_5DtefXZRU1X5nJUc9KryTjWGpT33Z9lJ5ckjtvZX6lJg6sQC9SV9vXjr5_GGZHA7-vd3Cgd/s1600/IMG_1561.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKCGeFjhudSfYR6XJBvR1eWHOsE_BqE9RQibeYpcnbZHWS_XJ_X81YCIK9b_BRqVZ20epd_5DtefXZRU1X5nJUc9KryTjWGpT33Z9lJ5ckjtvZX6lJg6sQC9SV9vXjr5_GGZHA7-vd3Cgd/s400/IMG_1561.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YuMIOdDCfM6LX3g06CDcizTcEIvrEAWG23XWmXELA_xFxtknhw_eGLYQ-qQoy3y93KxSrDOle0XrdC7_sOWnV1ONYIwsh55z2uJYhj1WDQUU2NpTILaHJ2z7eA5tJhUqitUXATJMMz0g/s1600/IMG_1563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0YuMIOdDCfM6LX3g06CDcizTcEIvrEAWG23XWmXELA_xFxtknhw_eGLYQ-qQoy3y93KxSrDOle0XrdC7_sOWnV1ONYIwsh55z2uJYhj1WDQUU2NpTILaHJ2z7eA5tJhUqitUXATJMMz0g/s400/IMG_1563.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chocolate piñata before picture.<br />
You better believe two nursing twin moms could do some damage!<br />
We didn't take an after picture.</td></tr>
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I also took advantage of some me time during my trip. I de-stressed with a pedicure and a massage before (and after) the test. The morning of my flight home I met up with an old friend Mike from high school and his adorable family.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmwiBOlOwuspyfm4MOg38eFlZuQZK1HFkAvutMoTLXHJjNGNZGip3kh1MTa9mg87WNMZEkvYQZP71GpfjrcZBMgh7OMksGOQB7Rhsue0q2Rx7fmmhaAW_S1_PvRnFMuHE5x-xkp_f6RnH/s1600/IMG_1569.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNmwiBOlOwuspyfm4MOg38eFlZuQZK1HFkAvutMoTLXHJjNGNZGip3kh1MTa9mg87WNMZEkvYQZP71GpfjrcZBMgh7OMksGOQB7Rhsue0q2Rx7fmmhaAW_S1_PvRnFMuHE5x-xkp_f6RnH/s400/IMG_1569.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">I don't have a picture with Mike and his family but I got one of the white Alligator at the aquarium</td></tr>
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They were so sweet to brave the Dallas traffic to pick me up and share the morning with me despite the fact it was his wife's birthday. We went to the aquarium before they took me to the airport to go home. It was fun to catch up and wildly enough, he also just had twins a few months after mine. So it really turned in to a twin mom meet-up weekend!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisodo4cqB4_NF9Kajx-5l8Wtyx4lm1GSvFj6pqOogsAQmojKFVfQssq90OcNkv-4SPV5bg0TqlCVgAOULAVdcnM66YERmwG542hD3FkeSr6zIsgLb4JFm_zsBfrv3zIPC4NcuNhpfoLLEv/s1600/IMG_0270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisodo4cqB4_NF9Kajx-5l8Wtyx4lm1GSvFj6pqOogsAQmojKFVfQssq90OcNkv-4SPV5bg0TqlCVgAOULAVdcnM66YERmwG542hD3FkeSr6zIsgLb4JFm_zsBfrv3zIPC4NcuNhpfoLLEv/s320/IMG_0270.JPG" width="239" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wWyOfLJC2vfpN_B9dxU9Ce-sCJdTS946_hmb4IG0nQkDTWylOkOHY4EIEc0e1g5OExYq2HiDgaF7TVxuxZu9hdghUKUL6GIfpUQmbBt1aaEUGyfHQtF0N5Cq61dT6pkhz2CfZEy5Jhau/s1600/IMG_1583.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2wWyOfLJC2vfpN_B9dxU9Ce-sCJdTS946_hmb4IG0nQkDTWylOkOHY4EIEc0e1g5OExYq2HiDgaF7TVxuxZu9hdghUKUL6GIfpUQmbBt1aaEUGyfHQtF0N5Cq61dT6pkhz2CfZEy5Jhau/s320/IMG_1583.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Now that the test is done I have had high hopes for decluttering my house, making gourmet healthy meals, getting in shape, and being an amazing and focused mom. But amidst all of that studying I guess I forgot that I still have two babies and that makes it hard to do much of anything. Still.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDs6mBlAtjRyoBRG90RYerZkG2eQKiBVFvbeAGWhjJo-bCufnSNft3gAtXXXiCvMt9vdWmbj5N9Bq2-WXPdUNxfzOP8R_nQV3RVs9ky-QwoDKU3jSEsZn3gVI7MhOLxSO3pkrQHIW9H-ya/s1600/IMG_1614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDs6mBlAtjRyoBRG90RYerZkG2eQKiBVFvbeAGWhjJo-bCufnSNft3gAtXXXiCvMt9vdWmbj5N9Bq2-WXPdUNxfzOP8R_nQV3RVs9ky-QwoDKU3jSEsZn3gVI7MhOLxSO3pkrQHIW9H-ya/s320/IMG_1614.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsyLbifntCbXtbUAZLp1i6YSjZPil71KClhfwsO6qvfGZttYbNcdawnf5K4Iz8z0tCX9KEJbR32iF1EhovZ8jYnUP4hAJksgRsOYwIp0JTafYZgHhwzlSSOH4LzXMon0IhkSB76wzhroZ/s1600/IMG_1552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsyLbifntCbXtbUAZLp1i6YSjZPil71KClhfwsO6qvfGZttYbNcdawnf5K4Iz8z0tCX9KEJbR32iF1EhovZ8jYnUP4hAJksgRsOYwIp0JTafYZgHhwzlSSOH4LzXMon0IhkSB76wzhroZ/s320/IMG_1552.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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As for the babies, they are doing great! They are adorable and interactive. They smile and laugh a lot. They seem to be in the early stages of teething so are a little grumpier lately, have been sleeping in their own beds for quite some time now, and sometimes sleep through the night. Mister weighs over 15 lbs and Sister is 14.5. That's a lot of baby for one mamma to carry!<br />
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-10869273014314470592016-02-14T11:03:00.001-06:002016-02-14T11:03:44.536-06:00Where Have We Been?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmshCL6dD8FOKjXxRbjZn4_-hijJ4F7cfmJ1ANAZzfzlpWOSkHKkWchyphenhyphentn340uM3aMyndQHWfrwHc66py4pXKih8R13-u3PfNpIKJa_tm-MrLgkNaCPnvQ-3sEAIGelEu_Hv9r8l5pvZIB/s1600/IMG_3906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmshCL6dD8FOKjXxRbjZn4_-hijJ4F7cfmJ1ANAZzfzlpWOSkHKkWchyphenhyphentn340uM3aMyndQHWfrwHc66py4pXKih8R13-u3PfNpIKJa_tm-MrLgkNaCPnvQ-3sEAIGelEu_Hv9r8l5pvZIB/s400/IMG_3906.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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I have started a few posts here and there but can't seem to find the time to get them posted. Here is one from last month. I wish I knew the exact date... And I added a LOT of pictures.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRo9NF4ljGQBqLMoYg2pPZXmQafR-X_Px3tmIIu19TZWjpJJQMlMqYJ2h-h3JPGAoPPhdV8tV1rQglADwoHW30Y6BTRVyam_mdQQGVPnQiawnIvvSe4L7YZeey1tQGylx2khvLB9-vwwa/s1600/DSC02600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRo9NF4ljGQBqLMoYg2pPZXmQafR-X_Px3tmIIu19TZWjpJJQMlMqYJ2h-h3JPGAoPPhdV8tV1rQglADwoHW30Y6BTRVyam_mdQQGVPnQiawnIvvSe4L7YZeey1tQGylx2khvLB9-vwwa/s320/DSC02600.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our handsome devil and little pumpkin</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjTRzoVK088GR1rytFLehPbHzMvFlViIOqzSE-vIQ-qwsl_aZxlqsSsUGiar3x8fQql0XYDGMuxG-zsg34xAYEk3TMWiib7AIprWe_Of1fhFoJ0Z250LKpF-6UCTdv54FMi4RwrprYdiM/s1600/DSC03227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjTRzoVK088GR1rytFLehPbHzMvFlViIOqzSE-vIQ-qwsl_aZxlqsSsUGiar3x8fQql0XYDGMuxG-zsg34xAYEk3TMWiib7AIprWe_Of1fhFoJ0Z250LKpF-6UCTdv54FMi4RwrprYdiM/s320/DSC03227.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmdzBhbt6ZJp8ia7LuE2HC6rYmecoKuESq7JWoiYS1DWkmZ91t2oWhqLMSRGN_6aowzmayqDszbSu9sO1sN7t__iFULi5IxQjf7-6vzf09Bl_yxi-weEB8jkpPqUBslqpMqg6kfzdVNLg/s1600/DSC03144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmdzBhbt6ZJp8ia7LuE2HC6rYmecoKuESq7JWoiYS1DWkmZ91t2oWhqLMSRGN_6aowzmayqDszbSu9sO1sN7t__iFULi5IxQjf7-6vzf09Bl_yxi-weEB8jkpPqUBslqpMqg6kfzdVNLg/s320/DSC03144.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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I want to say that time flies when you have two babies at home but I'm not sure that is accurate. In some ways it is amazing to think they are already over three months old. And in other ways it seems like they have been here for the long haul. Long days maneuvering all of our responsibilities and short nights being up with babies have made it a fast passing of long days.<br />
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I can say that I've missed blogging but life has been quite crazy. The biggest obstacle perhaps even more than having two adorable faces to kiss and pinch and feed is the impending final portion of my board exam coming up next month. I find that it has been very challenging to study. At first finding the motivation to study was difficult; now as I feel the time crunch and the panic coming over me, I find that finding the time is the most difficult. It seems inevitably they wake from their nap or both cry when I try to study but I've been doing my best to do an hour per day where I can. In the meantime, planning to do anything but babies and studying in my free time makes me feel guilty so blogging has taken the hit.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgel7Ajxz7H2uQjNOo6oFrGJPDNMQP_eWL3pRFkBsDmRpo39BwRXQMb4yY7yi3zPBmm5JnNe8eQj5cTGzpXN0AYgDQ8saVRkZHCloWiDYdmMaHCVeCq6JSxg6nERuG90b99HZSsRerSdesK/s1600/IMG_4182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgel7Ajxz7H2uQjNOo6oFrGJPDNMQP_eWL3pRFkBsDmRpo39BwRXQMb4yY7yi3zPBmm5JnNe8eQj5cTGzpXN0AYgDQ8saVRkZHCloWiDYdmMaHCVeCq6JSxg6nERuG90b99HZSsRerSdesK/s320/IMG_4182.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjCBJ8ArvRAVXeMtBmda9I4nYlWMTauqrk4Z_3UuBqzsKbu1icFds7xFJUeDGGib5AxGO4qiNxNMPPniO4rKmaJ-8m2FEn5A5mswz12stgE80Xqo1tWsEckakpZgyy_W2WwyhjvMFIIt_v/s1600/DSC02860.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjCBJ8ArvRAVXeMtBmda9I4nYlWMTauqrk4Z_3UuBqzsKbu1icFds7xFJUeDGGib5AxGO4qiNxNMPPniO4rKmaJ-8m2FEn5A5mswz12stgE80Xqo1tWsEckakpZgyy_W2WwyhjvMFIIt_v/s320/DSC02860.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Today they are happily cooing in their mamaroos while their dad is on call at the hospital. I am pumping anyway as I watch them almost lull me to sleep as they bounce and sway so I thought maybe this would be the time for a quick update. So, where to start? Maybe just by answering my most commonly asked questions.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-jdxjUMncGEto8RdBGQgsCyz-qsj4Cv5_fiUzm_5nh-ub4wQVawziKATYUN1YzFLynGQH-Sp3Y3lxqym-52RHopD2ziKGpWZ5KmFgnwHokX1ztP_H-YyrMU1IPqfxYM2IUp_1HmAM9UB/s1600/IMG_4416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC-jdxjUMncGEto8RdBGQgsCyz-qsj4Cv5_fiUzm_5nh-ub4wQVawziKATYUN1YzFLynGQH-Sp3Y3lxqym-52RHopD2ziKGpWZ5KmFgnwHokX1ztP_H-YyrMU1IPqfxYM2IUp_1HmAM9UB/s400/IMG_4416.JPG" width="225" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81uPDGXlu48OhOTgyeHrjvGXc8gp1b8ERdq6gBBrzorZGk8ztLX84Nen0e42fBhfMQqzrcOYmCzJ7HUnkPs55D-0K-DteENXIauN2oE9eB1YXFh4VvBwSfNFOqeST5B23teCI6SXua2ow/s1600/IMG_4016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj81uPDGXlu48OhOTgyeHrjvGXc8gp1b8ERdq6gBBrzorZGk8ztLX84Nen0e42fBhfMQqzrcOYmCzJ7HUnkPs55D-0K-DteENXIauN2oE9eB1YXFh4VvBwSfNFOqeST5B23teCI6SXua2ow/s400/IMG_4016.JPG" width="300" /></a><br />
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<b>Q: When do you go back to work?</b></div>
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A: I have been back to work for about 5 weeks now. I was pleasantly surprised to remember how much I like my job. Phew! I wish I had more time with the babies but it is much less exhausting to work a full day than it is to take care of both babies. I have been lucky so far to be able to bring at first one and lately both babies with me to work so that has taken away a lot of the separation anxiety and mommy guilt. We have explored multiple options for childcare and hope to find a nanny soon. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBq1grq7087HnPQNGtQfhyWEDXAjStsHIW4OZGbeKHOIZ_QYW61TEP5xdEd5jYKOGEbSZH5zooBrm9WO1cI7Yiehd4qyaY_pp3g18Ux-s0Tnv6CYy5ARICHuQ6dePrq-GN05bYVE8gjN3r/s1600/DSC02495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBq1grq7087HnPQNGtQfhyWEDXAjStsHIW4OZGbeKHOIZ_QYW61TEP5xdEd5jYKOGEbSZH5zooBrm9WO1cI7Yiehd4qyaY_pp3g18Ux-s0Tnv6CYy5ARICHuQ6dePrq-GN05bYVE8gjN3r/s640/DSC02495.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<b>Q: How are the babies?</b></div>
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A: The babies are doing great! They are growing very well and looking more and more like chubby babies. Little brother has overtaken his sister in weight. They are both starting to smile and laugh and interact much more. Brother had some more tummy troubles early on but seems to be feeling better and becoming happier and easier every day. She is incredibly social, happy, and smiley which is a lot of fun.</div>
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Also, since I am not using their names online I have decided they will be known now as "Mister" and "Sister."</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9uD_pvwgedduF8Oo7-UY70RJISXMvYxbP66OVFHaadn2RPCVJvCDVC3AHzw-Q3zSvHyHroveykRfqyuAvr0jQ2K2BhSRR44ZXPUg2jWe6StFilUb9J8a8IW4L6n7bbZPH0rUU3dEHKyr/s1600/IMG_0220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha9uD_pvwgedduF8Oo7-UY70RJISXMvYxbP66OVFHaadn2RPCVJvCDVC3AHzw-Q3zSvHyHroveykRfqyuAvr0jQ2K2BhSRR44ZXPUg2jWe6StFilUb9J8a8IW4L6n7bbZPH0rUU3dEHKyr/s320/IMG_0220.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKmtjZLGd13k-tHfKFnW2LcSsbn_TcXzFltT5MC1HrMzlXrUPfv6qQZdCBf4Nwi51kP6NsFbSSdQQHTFlEB5mvOfGIVwYC0ea7UBP9KMQRRkskcAfUYD4_ulO9OT0T1n9RprWqWZfQYxp/s1600/IMG_0221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaKmtjZLGd13k-tHfKFnW2LcSsbn_TcXzFltT5MC1HrMzlXrUPfv6qQZdCBf4Nwi51kP6NsFbSSdQQHTFlEB5mvOfGIVwYC0ea7UBP9KMQRRkskcAfUYD4_ulO9OT0T1n9RprWqWZfQYxp/s320/IMG_0221.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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<b>Q: Are they on the same schedule? </b></div>
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A: The babies are often on the same schedule, although not really anything we purposefully did. We will often wake the other one up to eat in the middle of the night but sometimes Sister will sleep almost through the night so we may just let her sleep.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTblexDLsbt7Efex3IZM2bYdzMYNr-FZkB8m5Jyo1JRbx846er1xz5qTJRY4p8qWIehrC3PXLjyM7IG6RyROzAETqfNbGwQdf-S5iUH6rW5WDSMqKOLS8VOM-yyeI5AHQ0ijGrpBElzUPX/s1600/IMG_4013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTblexDLsbt7Efex3IZM2bYdzMYNr-FZkB8m5Jyo1JRbx846er1xz5qTJRY4p8qWIehrC3PXLjyM7IG6RyROzAETqfNbGwQdf-S5iUH6rW5WDSMqKOLS8VOM-yyeI5AHQ0ijGrpBElzUPX/s320/IMG_4013.JPG" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5Yxt_KHIlYSRMf3-oSp-_6jJx8EV8u1VUVyoW7c5dZnyHX8Zj_HS7QGwl3h6QjrYW4UM707RoHTN4jlY-uSg76N0znqgbiDFXoaNosXVbR6f4KQyDvV2lCoyhHS1QLyk4t6OnunoXh5H/s1600/IMG_0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs5Yxt_KHIlYSRMf3-oSp-_6jJx8EV8u1VUVyoW7c5dZnyHX8Zj_HS7QGwl3h6QjrYW4UM707RoHTN4jlY-uSg76N0znqgbiDFXoaNosXVbR6f4KQyDvV2lCoyhHS1QLyk4t6OnunoXh5H/s320/IMG_0067.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Q: Do you nurse them at the same time?</b></div>
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A: I have nursed both babies at the same time a handful of times (this is called tandem nursing in the twin world). Unfortunately, breast feeding has been a struggle. Pre-term babies often have difficulty feeding and this is a residual effect of their early delivery. We have spent hours and many tears and visits to the lactation consultant to make breast feeding a reality but have supplemented with bottles all along the way. Sister is becoming pretty darn good at it and I try to nurse her as often as I can when I am not at work, but Mister is on a nursing strike and has decided bottles are much easier and better. I hope he will come back to me sometime but I am trying to take the pressure off us both. In the meantime, I pump when I can (usually on my daily commute) and supplement with formula. It is frustrating that the better (and cheaper! and often easier!) option isn't the one that is working for us but there is only so much you can do! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4iIBthiO-5R0Wycd5vTtXcn-GSgtMTcnSdH5ehyphenhyphen-_DJTMBNfaU93MngDg3PorNz_YddEhag5ygzyrNG0znHxoEPCnqG7EpF9RR-m2n2nVHGDtiTk5ueYepWVEA3mU0s-vQ6fOBZEOUyUh/s1600/DSC03080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4iIBthiO-5R0Wycd5vTtXcn-GSgtMTcnSdH5ehyphenhyphen-_DJTMBNfaU93MngDg3PorNz_YddEhag5ygzyrNG0znHxoEPCnqG7EpF9RR-m2n2nVHGDtiTk5ueYepWVEA3mU0s-vQ6fOBZEOUyUh/s320/DSC03080.JPG" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDD9Xf6GyC9yXLBen9ThWzqzfdOoscmVtiseQquBoP86n_LG93jOcR_Kw2K4C6oKfJQEZ3Jh_1VlAhf4KSgSUqeEezgRXCD9Ke_bnUhDMBKj4yOoOYfyfgfNElXytMx7BX7vkPpL1lk3n/s1600/DSC03073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaDD9Xf6GyC9yXLBen9ThWzqzfdOoscmVtiseQquBoP86n_LG93jOcR_Kw2K4C6oKfJQEZ3Jh_1VlAhf4KSgSUqeEezgRXCD9Ke_bnUhDMBKj4yOoOYfyfgfNElXytMx7BX7vkPpL1lk3n/s320/DSC03073.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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I was surprised by the emotions that come with breast feeding. When it is something that doesn't come easily it is excruciatingly frustrating. I have felt more inadequate in this aspect of my life than in most others I can think of. Logically I know it has no bearing on my worth as a mother but I can't seem to shake the feeling that I am not providing the most basic physical and emotional needs for my babies in the way I am "supposed to." That doesn't mean I disapprove or look down on anyone who chooses or has to use formula but I am surprised how hard it has been for me, despite my expectation all along I would likely use formula at least some times, to shake those feelings. I think the "breast is best" campaign did such a good job convincing me, it is a little hard to believe now when they tell me, "They are great! Formula is great! It really doesn't matter." I am grateful they take bottles and am fine with them having formula but I would really love it if when we tried to nurse it was a positive experience for all three of us and that I could produce a bit more (which my work schedule and my need to sleep preclude). No, I do not have a single ounce of my own breast milk as a stash in the freezer.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABprimXMEl4tqL6Bywg-P9ac-GupCC-8TX7BjG_5xOhzSoQy5o_gc6D9kAABPUlRfQAQ3kKA94E4xviaEOn4v9iCDyx7x3FDECQ_8oJBmXddkDhPF9dqImFEPgWiG5F9ph1D4eYYpKV_N/s1600/DSC03063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABprimXMEl4tqL6Bywg-P9ac-GupCC-8TX7BjG_5xOhzSoQy5o_gc6D9kAABPUlRfQAQ3kKA94E4xviaEOn4v9iCDyx7x3FDECQ_8oJBmXddkDhPF9dqImFEPgWiG5F9ph1D4eYYpKV_N/s640/DSC03063.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<b>Q: Do they sleep in the same bed?</b><br />
A: While they used to recommend twins share a bed or even be co-swaddled, they no longer recommend this. We felt the safest bet would be to follow the recommendations so they each have their own crib. And maybe as a boy-girl pair encouraging them to learn to sleep on their own is less awkward as they age...?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahCUIBDG9jEAjTgbh5h6uHjvSWG6XK9HrYdfkm7bKHT5cHmpA58afe32ROJ3gNk8G57yI25VjaBjrNzPWhyphenhyphen0pGcDnOSf0d4RzptkipSSlYSFk7P2bdyiMOFXxSnbEMIMLjGqL1XOPQ8MS/s1600/DSC03187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiahCUIBDG9jEAjTgbh5h6uHjvSWG6XK9HrYdfkm7bKHT5cHmpA58afe32ROJ3gNk8G57yI25VjaBjrNzPWhyphenhyphen0pGcDnOSf0d4RzptkipSSlYSFk7P2bdyiMOFXxSnbEMIMLjGqL1XOPQ8MS/s640/DSC03187.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>Q: Do they sleep through the night?</b></div>
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A: We have been lucky we had a lot of support in the beginning. After my mom left a few weeks after their birth, my MIL was gracious and generous and spent many nights up with them so we could catch up on sleep. This was amazing especially since we had to wake them up every 2 hours to feed them due to concerns about weight gain early on. Now, they usually go to sleep about 8:30 or 9 pm and sleep until about 1:30-2:30, and then we all wake up at 5:00 to get ready for work. Some nights sister will sleep straight through until 5:00. I wish I could go to bed when they do but I find myself staying up to study, complete some tasks on my to do list, interact with Abe, or just have some me time.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRn2WZTVZXS67s_AtjAdFPGtmIVgaq7GZGHuUqOqmr0Py3wPbUVCDK0F6WzYXk8924v7PnUeT523v5lx1C5dg75hFIV26-SWWMT2-Y6ZTQkCQtpqVf7zx-yW2X62R4cxBVKiXhvOSZXi8C/s1600/DSC03194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRn2WZTVZXS67s_AtjAdFPGtmIVgaq7GZGHuUqOqmr0Py3wPbUVCDK0F6WzYXk8924v7PnUeT523v5lx1C5dg75hFIV26-SWWMT2-Y6ZTQkCQtpqVf7zx-yW2X62R4cxBVKiXhvOSZXi8C/s640/DSC03194.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You get creative in baby holding and maneuvering</td></tr>
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<b>Q: How are you recovering?</b></div>
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A: I'm surprised by how many people ask this sweet question. I feel a little surprised by it because I have been feeling pretty good for quite some time now. The first days in the hospital were very difficult and painful but I overall feel great. I am really hoping after my boards are done and I get better at taking care of two babies I will manage to get into a healthier eating regimen and start exercising again after what has been a year or two absence with a challenging pregnancy and activity restrictions during fertility treatments.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5ygswkMBuPwgHCVyDGVPh9r_6e-6hCjGAxFFVsoz4vnLD-CusthLokFYQQdy8bfjlCfCWTlRCmIi-04i_pxZVx6Ts8xKZAVnOrTOVYtffEjs6HloEy3LiTcAf8w3qUIzEWqGb4QNYN-3/s1600/DSC02938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5ygswkMBuPwgHCVyDGVPh9r_6e-6hCjGAxFFVsoz4vnLD-CusthLokFYQQdy8bfjlCfCWTlRCmIi-04i_pxZVx6Ts8xKZAVnOrTOVYtffEjs6HloEy3LiTcAf8w3qUIzEWqGb4QNYN-3/s640/DSC02938.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>Q: Did your mom come live with you after the babies? </b></div>
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A: Unfortunately most of my family lives in Utah and were unable to move to Iowa for the birth of our babies (wouldn't that have been great!). I was lucky to have my mom stay with us the day we got out of the hospital for about ten days. She originally planned to stay for a shorter period of time but generously extended her stay when she saw how much help we needed in the beginning. We were also very excited to have my parents make a last minute trip to visit at Thanksgiving. It was great that we were able to introduce the babies to my parents so early on. Abe's parents and sister live in town with us and have been a wonderful support as well. We have reaped the benefits of free babysitting multiple times and have even been able to get out for some date nights on our own early on. We are so happy to have some family close by and they have made the transition to two babies so much easier.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2WWOyOfj5BBB8vgGgenEVLztx-nEOQYv99x5PPNb-l1Z2DkLtpYzoGwp21riu4BIXNp3S4wfyFQUkX3rJBHpMGoi0_FEDzY6nQGHoOvNAjoruvyqUmuy_7Ou2sddafRgFXoVB8Yj4M6uD/s1600/IMG_0229.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2WWOyOfj5BBB8vgGgenEVLztx-nEOQYv99x5PPNb-l1Z2DkLtpYzoGwp21riu4BIXNp3S4wfyFQUkX3rJBHpMGoi0_FEDzY6nQGHoOvNAjoruvyqUmuy_7Ou2sddafRgFXoVB8Yj4M6uD/s640/IMG_0229.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It seems everyone is a little tired taking care of two babies!</td></tr>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-58787352825251837662015-11-06T15:45:00.000-06:002015-11-06T15:45:03.179-06:00A little warning, just in caseBelow you will find my birth story. In keeping with my openness and also my comfort with medical terms, procedures, etc, I didn't do a lot of censoring. I didn't include any photos of the actual birth or pictures of the placentas (which look like a scene from The Walking Dead) but if you are a little squeamish about medical things or "woman" things or "personal" things you may want to steer clear or consider yourself warned. With that said, I think it is rather tame but my scale is a little skewed.<br />
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Thanks!</div>
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Love Erin</div>
Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-24414859446839181302015-11-06T15:39:00.000-06:002016-03-08T23:31:56.412-06:00Birth Story<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsUFwvGUyhJAOZfOHpY-Eva36vRnzm8nw43VTTqQbPHdpVFLOx8HxRHVE2WnMHA9Bn0NvfyV_XTDEAj_GuiGWFPlrN9EJPg-zWZBVshy6n3j9R23qjS969eLO7_GR-XzofIJIRMNE0If93/s1600/IMG_0900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsUFwvGUyhJAOZfOHpY-Eva36vRnzm8nw43VTTqQbPHdpVFLOx8HxRHVE2WnMHA9Bn0NvfyV_XTDEAj_GuiGWFPlrN9EJPg-zWZBVshy6n3j9R23qjS969eLO7_GR-XzofIJIRMNE0If93/s400/IMG_0900.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Our first selfie!</div>
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When I awoke Wednesday October 7, 2015 I noticed my underwear seemed wet with clear fluid. It was 5:50 am. I immediately suspected my water had broken. The instructions I had received from the hospital told me to come in within 2 hours if that were to happen but I figured I had my already scheduled ultrasound at 8 am so I would wait until then.</div>
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The ultrasound was pretty quick. There isn't much to see with two big babies cramped into such a small space at 36 weeks. Baby A remained head down and Baby B remained breech, slightly transverse. Baby A measured 6 lb 7 oz and Baby B measured 6 lb even. I was a little surprised our Baby Boy was measuring smaller than his sister but I was happy with their good size and curious to see if the sizes would be similar when they were born. Abe was able to sneak down between patients in the resident of the day clinic to see them, too. At first I felt bad how big I had become in my pregnancy, even compared to another twin pregnancy I knew, but now I was relieved they were so big when I knew they would be coming before their 38 week due date.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9sbC54zMrLKgO3PX70W-_cuhQLKzl-fZbzXApRn8CnDl0JCdQ3AtK9HZZf-4ReVb1bFQgwxOT2RIoO5XHNg4d2reaYUu_N4kzpBJl28s-qxcIkwdnDy3mQ-lqsTyj_wBMAU5Xrur4ujU/s1600/IMG_0882.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9sbC54zMrLKgO3PX70W-_cuhQLKzl-fZbzXApRn8CnDl0JCdQ3AtK9HZZf-4ReVb1bFQgwxOT2RIoO5XHNg4d2reaYUu_N4kzpBJl28s-qxcIkwdnDy3mQ-lqsTyj_wBMAU5Xrur4ujU/s400/IMG_0882.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally looking pregnant with twins! Induction at 36 weeks</td></tr>
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I told the ultrasound tech I was concerned my water may have broke that morning and asked if I could talk to a doctor. They found a nurse to speak to me, one who had helped me multiple times the past week when I had been evaluated before. She was kind and friendly but I got the feeling she was thinking, "Oh no, you again!" when she saw my face. She did a quick hallway consult and tried to explain to me the difference between mucous (from the mucous plug) and other fluid (something I think I have a good grasp on after years of working in the mouth). Because I didn't have the stereotypical "gush" of fluid she seemed skeptical and stated it would keep leaking if it had broken. I told her it had only been a short while so I wasn't sure that was a good way to rule it out. She offered to have me stay to have it checked but I sensed she wasn't convinced. I guess I was getting a little sick of being there hours and hours and this time maybe "for nothing" so I decided to go home and call if it continued.<br />
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Of course walking to the car I wondered if I was leaking and should have stayed but went home to lie down and see if more fluid would accumulate when I stood up. It was a little hard to tell but it seemed to stop (whatever little may have been there) by about 11 or noon. I knew my doctor had been on call the night before and had had a busy night so I tried to reach her but wasn't too concerned when she didn't answer-- probably sleeping. I felt pretty certain that my water had broke that morning because I didn't know what else the fluid could have been, but I started questioning now as it was later in the day without any additional fluid. My doctor called me back mid afternoon and I gave her the update. We decided that I would go in to be checked when I dropped off my urine sample to Labor and Delivery that evening.<br />
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I also was trying to make the decision of whether or not I should go to work the next two days. I decided I wasn't feeling great so had them cancel my patients. I guess that ended up being a good idea!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM7D5joIjywZML5bCo43I5xJc7PY8eTQuQIQtpxZKCiCtlU0RbjHH3zENJ8sDxoccretmyUV-qzddwdKxx3nxJ8CAxO6dqQst9OIapS5mrqxrs-dI9SF8qTPLSeeBk3RBMX42aK7JJhJtM/s1600/IMG_0885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM7D5joIjywZML5bCo43I5xJc7PY8eTQuQIQtpxZKCiCtlU0RbjHH3zENJ8sDxoccretmyUV-qzddwdKxx3nxJ8CAxO6dqQst9OIapS5mrqxrs-dI9SF8qTPLSeeBk3RBMX42aK7JJhJtM/s320/IMG_0885.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">36 weeks</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWHRSR7y5nRLDMFzr3mUWy5DlQBOWeho9JNds-qCGB3h0dc8y0-OOSAIIWiS6j_3d4lrmKOFgPlWayDKYxjOUxNgfc-8P-3EYZ4Gf601Q1Ook4rkmSSooe7v1G_hbSWeqTs2UW4x4YUEc/s1600/IMG_0883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWHRSR7y5nRLDMFzr3mUWy5DlQBOWeho9JNds-qCGB3h0dc8y0-OOSAIIWiS6j_3d4lrmKOFgPlWayDKYxjOUxNgfc-8P-3EYZ4Gf601Q1Ook4rkmSSooe7v1G_hbSWeqTs2UW4x4YUEc/s320/IMG_0883.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last bump pictures</td></tr>
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My mother-in-law Kristin stopped by and offered to drive me in at 6 pm to be seen. Luckily, she had helped me finish packing my hospital bag shortly before (procrastination, even after my previous pre-term labor scare!). I didn't feel like driving and parking myself so I happily accepted the ride even though it felt lazy to do so. She kindly stayed with me while we waited. I got checked in (again) at the triage and changed into a gown. They did another NST while we waited. It seemed like a long time before they finally did the cervical swab (partly because they wanted me to lie down long enough for fluid to have chance to pool). I think it was close to 9 pm when they finally did and noticed some fluid had actually accumulated. The resident wouldn't tell me the preliminary result so we kept waiting and wondering. Finally, a nurse came in and we asked. She told me I was "ruptured." We weren't really sure what that meant for the plan and we asked if that meant my MIL should start texting updates that we were having the babies. The nurse said that was up to me and we were both confused what she meant until we realized she was saying, "Yes, you will be having the babies and it is between you two whether she gives you permission to tell anyone."<br />
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Abe was on call that night and in an emergency surgery case, draining an infection with the oral surgery team. I had the nurse page him so I could tell him the news that they were going to induce me and we were about to have our babies. I didn't want him to be the last to know so I was glad to catch him before he was scrubbed in and unavailable. We knew he would have plenty of time so I encouraged him to finish the surgery.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdePUcexfdxut6DrK1wODv5DS_rbopwr8nJfv6KDjc-mw-vHuoGEwMhxdwhTHlEeG87BKWts0YKlVJ1Vuk9HpkKnib-m1-wSv0efBN6Io3Z9RwOiObXP5NL_hs9vNsmUjNW-da0ML3kGOj/s1600/IMG_0887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdePUcexfdxut6DrK1wODv5DS_rbopwr8nJfv6KDjc-mw-vHuoGEwMhxdwhTHlEeG87BKWts0YKlVJ1Vuk9HpkKnib-m1-wSv0efBN6Io3Z9RwOiObXP5NL_hs9vNsmUjNW-da0ML3kGOj/s400/IMG_0887.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monitoring the babies while being induced</td></tr>
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The unit was very busy but finally a real room opened up and I was transferred into it for the night. Abe's mom and sister Jessica kept me company and bought me dinner while we waited for Abe to finish his surgical case. We joked that black bean soup was probably a bad choice right before labor. We took some last pictures of my bump, got hooked up to the IV to start the pitocin, and I was strapped to the monitors and stuck in bed for the rest of the night (except for annoying and frequent trips to the bathroom). I started feeling contractions right away with the initial dosing of the pitocin but they seemed to slow or ease up after the initial feeling. They continued to ramp up the dosage and we tried to get some sleep. This was difficult and I don't think I got any sleep. By the early morning my contractions were getting worse. I was starting to feel paranoid about how dilated I was. They were trying not to check too frequently (I think since my water had broken so long before) so I had no idea how I was progressing. I felt a little torn between going as long as I could and not being caught off guard and having to rush the epidural when we needed it. About 5 am I asked for the epidural. I figured I might as well be ready and also take advantage of the relief if I was going to get it, anyway (something my doctor insisted upon for my delivery). Funny how I felt a little like I was copping out not waiting until it was unbearable.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvxkR0BZAW4xbmvD1diWzuupLDxFjn6-NnykYU_uvMBACtLUKK8rBwDyBhLUwSwIP93p79jYkzt9_Ha3sA9V6JzNMqUPlZK_DRcA2jvV-I_3GMfBc9w8VCWdd2eStWqoKzkIUbxNMSqzd/s1600/DSCN0801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwvxkR0BZAW4xbmvD1diWzuupLDxFjn6-NnykYU_uvMBACtLUKK8rBwDyBhLUwSwIP93p79jYkzt9_Ha3sA9V6JzNMqUPlZK_DRcA2jvV-I_3GMfBc9w8VCWdd2eStWqoKzkIUbxNMSqzd/s400/DSCN0801.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had no idea I was <i>this</i> big!</td></tr>
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The resident did a great job with the placement of the epidural. I was surprised how comfortable I finally was, not realizing how much pain I was actually having. The restlessness in my legs and the discomfort of being stuck in bed for hours without being able to move much (to avoid disturbing the baby monitors) was gone (which I think almost worse than the contractions themselves). It unfortunately was replaced with itching, but I finally relaxed and got a few hours of interrupted sleep.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF0dQl78rzRO69HC8DdKxwemgTIyIFGXl1_rqFElNRrjsdBA0ObHBux5G6G99DDZx5W4YxzLgGHcuX3l8ELtyLsFhicil3uztGr8yBg4O9eXeDEYWQYIHGGG25qsuGKeC7DP0x9AOuvQJZ/s1600/DSCN0803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF0dQl78rzRO69HC8DdKxwemgTIyIFGXl1_rqFElNRrjsdBA0ObHBux5G6G99DDZx5W4YxzLgGHcuX3l8ELtyLsFhicil3uztGr8yBg4O9eXeDEYWQYIHGGG25qsuGKeC7DP0x9AOuvQJZ/s400/DSCN0803.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
Getting ready to go to the OR for delivery</div>
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Later that morning the OB team finally came to check me. I was dilated to I think an 8. I was surprised and happy to know I had progressed that far. They gave me more time and by about 11 am I was at a 10. My doctor wanted to give me a little longer before taking me in to the OR for the delivery. It seemed to take a long time (and longer than they had said) to get me back in the room. The epidural was still working great as I was able to move my legs but avoid the pain.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">I was happy to see a friendly face as the anesthesia staff, Matt. We had spent a lot of time together on my anesthesia rotation in residency and it was nice to have someone there I felt I could joke and speak comfortably with. Between him and my friend Erin, my OB, I felt pretty calm considering the circumstances.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmQmpKeqCovox7USIj-pxxqqMWdvl5nh2G04kzpqTGG2BDN1ml1gcI5gDm1nYYt3i__cB7C1lSJTTBPgi5i7i3FvLx9gBpQqj2zc1w7Ujg59oMKPR9o-Z1gKj607tZ4WsUlbvU7enXRun/s1600/DSCN0805.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixmQmpKeqCovox7USIj-pxxqqMWdvl5nh2G04kzpqTGG2BDN1ml1gcI5gDm1nYYt3i__cB7C1lSJTTBPgi5i7i3FvLx9gBpQqj2zc1w7Ujg59oMKPR9o-Z1gKj607tZ4WsUlbvU7enXRun/s320/DSCN0805.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's time! </td></tr>
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When everything was set they informed me I should start pushing. I had a hard time understanding what they wanted me to do and an even harder time telling if I was doing it. Pushing came much harder than I had ever imagined. I felt like all of the pushing was happening in my head. I could feel the veins pulsating and I literally worried I may stroke out, detach my retinas, or maybe even just shoot my eyeballs out their sockets. I had thoughts running through my mind about how I was going to die, leaving my poor husband to take care of two babies and without ever getting to meet my children; or secretly hoping I didn't have an undiscovered aneurysm that was about to blow. I felt really frustrated, emotional, and discouraged like I was doing something wrong even though the doctors were all very encouraging and trying to tell me I was doing okay. I didn't believe them as they told me I was doing "perfect" or to keep going. It had been about an hour of pushing and I really felt like giving up as I felt a little frantic I was failing. They tried to assure me that some people have to push for 3 hours and an hour was pretty great. (Ha!) I finally felt like I started to make a little headway (oops, sorry for the pun!) and was able to direct the pressure away from my developing brain aneurysm to my pelvis.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3TnBm2IeeV7rVkrr99Me4_Rf60WBPIlZPEpfK0L_RXFcMUxwyfn1pDP2XKSCVt4tScmtoozWWqPfcKmdgUor3Q2ThBThHMZ4NzEgeqqzsD-cow-B9kawQYjNkWhwnFKKKdnhR9BdBCCpm/s1600/DSCN0806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3TnBm2IeeV7rVkrr99Me4_Rf60WBPIlZPEpfK0L_RXFcMUxwyfn1pDP2XKSCVt4tScmtoozWWqPfcKmdgUor3Q2ThBThHMZ4NzEgeqqzsD-cow-B9kawQYjNkWhwnFKKKdnhR9BdBCCpm/s400/DSCN0806.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Girl</td></tr>
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My doctor finally asked me to stop pushing and told Abe to get suited up. He gowned up, came around, and I could see him guiding our baby out, first the head and then each shoulder as he caught her. I remember noticing how cone headed she looked! They called for the pediatricians to take the baby away to be evaluated. I knew there were a bunch of people in the OR (the anesthesia team, the OB team, and two pediatric teams) but I didn't really notice. Abe came back to my side and I was very relieved that I wasn't going to have to push out Baby B.<br />
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Now on to the breech extraction. Phew!</div>
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The resident reached up inside my uterus. I was surprised and relieved (very grateful for the epidural and my doctor's sound advice to receive it) to note that this was not unpleasant or uncomfortable. I couldn't help but think of the James Harriet veterinary tales I read as a kid. She felt around trying to locate him. My doctor asked her a few times if she had him and she kept saying she had just one foot. I started to get a little nervous but shortly after she had a grip on him.<br />
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Soon I could see his little legs and body. The doctors started trying to turn him but he didn't seem to come. An older doctor at the same time was applying pressure to my abdomen. They continued to turn him as I could see his blue body flailing. I could hear them saying they were trying to turn him but his head wasn't moving with his body. My doctor asked the doctor applying pressure on my belly to come around and put on some gloves. At first she said no, "Don't you want me here? You want me here, don't you?" My doctor became more firm in her request that she move down to my pelvis. I started to sense there was a problem. Abe kept telling me calmly that everything was going to be okay. My doctor was also calmly telling me that everything was going to be okay even though I could sense an urgency in her voice and actions. But I started to worry and feel panicked. The other doctor finally came around, evidently without gloves (per Abe) and the two staff doctors started trying to turn the baby, "Come on baby, come on baby, come on baby, come on baby." He still didn't seem to want to budge one way or the other.<br />
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To her credit, my doctor has an amazing bedside manner. She ever so sweetly and calmly told me, "Ok Erin, just so you know we may have to break his arm to get him out." I started to panic and cry. I tried to tell myself that that would be okay, a broken arm would be okay, but I was actually worried he was going to die. And if he didn't, would he have long term problems from a broken arm? I was praying very hard that the angels would be there with my little baby to get him out safely. Abe told me it was going to be okay and coming from him, I believed him...mostly. I wondered if this meant I would be getting a c-section after all and if I had enough anesthesia for that to be okay or how they would even get him out the other direction when he seemed so stuck.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTu5dtmr0rOXYEluHvUuMVQzHYAaoCgNoex6BlRXF3806GsUXv92qrGOUjH8QlD1V-qj75JY1AoDbrgN5YDc5iZQTJq8jYf-gDY2ayXaHgbaqEHWVqPC-V_d2p3a5hvewYi3Qa0Tux2e1W/s1600/DSCN0813.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTu5dtmr0rOXYEluHvUuMVQzHYAaoCgNoex6BlRXF3806GsUXv92qrGOUjH8QlD1V-qj75JY1AoDbrgN5YDc5iZQTJq8jYf-gDY2ayXaHgbaqEHWVqPC-V_d2p3a5hvewYi3Qa0Tux2e1W/s320/DSCN0813.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Boy</td></tr>
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Finally, after the longest 6 minutes of my life, our little baby boy was delivered. They whisked away his blue limp body to the pediatricians and Abe told me again he was going to be okay. We finally heard his cry and I was told he was fine.<br />
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They brought baby girl around to my head to show her to me. I got to touch her little hand before she was taken to the NICU step down unit to be evaluated. The doctors continued to work on me. I remember thinking it was disconcerting to see my suddenly deflated belly! I found myself wanting my familiar tight abdomen back instead of the soft and foreign one left behind.<br />
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I was told I was bleeding and they started applying heavy pressure and pushing on my belly. The pain was excruciating as they continued to push and knead on my abdomen around my belly button. I kept telling them that I have a sensitive belly button so that really hurt. I didn't realize at the time that what they were doing likely would have hurt anyone. The anesthesiologist finally gave me 100 mcg of fentanyl and I remember saying, "Oh, so that's what it feels like when I give it to my patient's." I felt much more relaxed but the pain was still present and severe.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5RpZB7WmckPDZYHeauj23YgGVMBVm8tPs1XYmXTXSM3OgRoAYJEoUnzA06_j7FuN0rHH4LXS-HR_xhFOi6lK89Dz45RaBbwpncaIglELWiayMqJrBHlGlugeDzLyZZa-mVnac5vimELy/s1600/DSCN0818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu5RpZB7WmckPDZYHeauj23YgGVMBVm8tPs1XYmXTXSM3OgRoAYJEoUnzA06_j7FuN0rHH4LXS-HR_xhFOi6lK89Dz45RaBbwpncaIglELWiayMqJrBHlGlugeDzLyZZa-mVnac5vimELy/s400/DSCN0818.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby B, boy</td></tr>
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They continued to work to stop the bleeding. They placed a bakri balloon (a saline filled balloon) to put pressure on my uterus to help with the bleeding and a gauze packing. I was given some medications to put in my cheek and they started stitching me up. I continued to think about how I was probably going to die without ever getting to really hold or see my babies and what a sad joke that would be (not sure why I was so fixated on my own demise). In the meantime, or maybe once I realized I might live, I joked around with the anesthesia staff until they finally finished and wheeled me back to my room.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8fq5vUzY1xMUm40g2QOKNa70ZTcO249bn-KtKiVpIxe8_CGG9enuju7Qr5Aokti0PMsZK6MEsKwvpWOSql8PgMee2XY2TDxd5EcmeM02LAe1XlFzqjuLpKI0b7KfIQYq3ojDoZ82gGQO/s1600/DSCN0822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8fq5vUzY1xMUm40g2QOKNa70ZTcO249bn-KtKiVpIxe8_CGG9enuju7Qr5Aokti0PMsZK6MEsKwvpWOSql8PgMee2XY2TDxd5EcmeM02LAe1XlFzqjuLpKI0b7KfIQYq3ojDoZ82gGQO/s640/DSCN0822.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Settled back in bed. We did it! </td></tr>
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I remember being so relaxed and tired from the fentanyl I was excited to get back to my room. I was sad I didn't get to hold my babies but maybe a little relieved because I felt so miserable. By the time I was settled in my room, unfortunately the euphoria of the fentanyl had worn off and I didn't think I could sleep any more. My body was shaking uncontrollably in large shivers, a side effect of the medication I was given to help stop the bleeding, so I was told. I was parched and drank about 3-4 liters of water, popsickles, and juice. I was uncomfortable in bed and really wanted to get up to walk around and use the bathroom but the nurse wouldn't let me. I was tired of being stuck in bed since about 6 pm the night before, I was bleeding, and in a lot of pain. I was told I could see my babies later when I was able to get out of bed but now my nurse was saying she didn't think it was a good idea for me to get up. I figured I may not see my babies at all that day as I would be stuck in bed the rest of the night on Labor and Delivery.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Zmdumyp6w0efg7N70lWusTLNXzEWSUj0sZxCmU_LsEgbMKS6StUXh5F9UAPmaCrDzGNgz9Y5cPvkt2yFrzsmjyGLbE95F7iqVSkrmG7A4RIAtq_ialDaKRaIlNGWrRFNapAjyj-phQzP/s1600/DSCN0829.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Zmdumyp6w0efg7N70lWusTLNXzEWSUj0sZxCmU_LsEgbMKS6StUXh5F9UAPmaCrDzGNgz9Y5cPvkt2yFrzsmjyGLbE95F7iqVSkrmG7A4RIAtq_ialDaKRaIlNGWrRFNapAjyj-phQzP/s320/DSCN0829.jpg" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CEfUuNMLrn1oCbpbOe_xB3pWHtU-P4N_5W4ap0O7si62F4JJH2oZH2M5ZYAvlh2okxDzoBpc52iqWuUBu_6NAs7KBCU9lzbvFDtp-kkdoRLgkSQ9uqtwOWfqMg4p_v_nlfZVtbf4q7z1/s1600/IMG_3861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CEfUuNMLrn1oCbpbOe_xB3pWHtU-P4N_5W4ap0O7si62F4JJH2oZH2M5ZYAvlh2okxDzoBpc52iqWuUBu_6NAs7KBCU9lzbvFDtp-kkdoRLgkSQ9uqtwOWfqMg4p_v_nlfZVtbf4q7z1/s320/IMG_3861.jpg" width="180" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LUlQsophhealJH_WYnCjTp1CL3bkpW14tv5yoc7nlgJ5Xv8YDX0MwR-mwAZKZ5JRj1B6k8RYnWQ2Qp_mWOjoCjGjMiGaV8Gr5w2kXQp-x2E0PU9t8Stj83ksCFfqmrCZYQPp8IXv6t1t/s1600/DSCN0855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LUlQsophhealJH_WYnCjTp1CL3bkpW14tv5yoc7nlgJ5Xv8YDX0MwR-mwAZKZ5JRj1B6k8RYnWQ2Qp_mWOjoCjGjMiGaV8Gr5w2kXQp-x2E0PU9t8Stj83ksCFfqmrCZYQPp8IXv6t1t/s640/DSCN0855.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy and Baby Boy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Abe went up to see the babies in the NICU. I started to feel very down and depressed. I had just gone through a horrific and scary experience on what was supposed to be one of the happiest and most exciting days of my life. After a few hours, I felt very upset. I was all alone. I was in horrible pain. I was not allowed to get out of bed. I felt like I had lost my dignity as nurses helped me with the most intimate tasks. And I felt lonely. I wondered about my babies, if I even really had babies or cared that I had babies or would even love my babies. I was glad Abe was able to be with them but I felt very alone. I couldn't even reach my call light or the remote control to turn on the TV. So I cried.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDPWpxqOP6h04LlfIjp1IQfT5IHz6p7K4jS-rj8inlVqzMjdbvnW6Za1WFtcn6mVa1o7z0aBVaJvqm0EuWyQYTa9D2icVUnMgq3B6rXQNo5cQ4SQ_T_a5r7MR6tBqnSC7BMEQ6NGRNLRGj/s1600/IMG_3823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDPWpxqOP6h04LlfIjp1IQfT5IHz6p7K4jS-rj8inlVqzMjdbvnW6Za1WFtcn6mVa1o7z0aBVaJvqm0EuWyQYTa9D2icVUnMgq3B6rXQNo5cQ4SQ_T_a5r7MR6tBqnSC7BMEQ6NGRNLRGj/s320/IMG_3823.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">So thirsty afterward</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
About the time I was feeling really bad Abe came back to the room. He was excited about the babies and showed me their pictures and gave me updates. Baby girl was doing well and would probably join us that day. Baby boy was also doing well but was on a CPAP (positive pressure breathing tube) for breathing support. Luckily, despite some bruising he was doing fine and his arm was not broken (although my doctor later informed me that she had indeed tried to break it).<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyltCAwoQLDXpFuivIjNv1mDwkezqfUOR4pPwndQw6ZxOi9dE1plqwceO6C-TfPDCskXxZL6GhyvzOwkizOvwEV6vPvSq5qZw9zfT4EzOOAK4rfguE6gw-QXRLYqbzvtB4EDVYzeG_c3ix/s1600/IMG_3853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyltCAwoQLDXpFuivIjNv1mDwkezqfUOR4pPwndQw6ZxOi9dE1plqwceO6C-TfPDCskXxZL6GhyvzOwkizOvwEV6vPvSq5qZw9zfT4EzOOAK4rfguE6gw-QXRLYqbzvtB4EDVYzeG_c3ix/s400/IMG_3853.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeling emotional meeting a baby for the first time</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSIvZZ155Wnti6lfCbeU_EA0qdd6wNdRW-3t6MYjWxltDhf8hm0qJXrUmM159rpquzH-cXKR3tgxMUDa90MrhdJ5EMrJI5iLtoEuqZm3ktL_cQuzXWU0eKlMv2WSrlgdXFNEn-YVVn8cO8/s1600/DSCN0874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSIvZZ155Wnti6lfCbeU_EA0qdd6wNdRW-3t6MYjWxltDhf8hm0qJXrUmM159rpquzH-cXKR3tgxMUDa90MrhdJ5EMrJI5iLtoEuqZm3ktL_cQuzXWU0eKlMv2WSrlgdXFNEn-YVVn8cO8/s400/DSCN0874.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Girl</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSIvZZ155Wnti6lfCbeU_EA0qdd6wNdRW-3t6MYjWxltDhf8hm0qJXrUmM159rpquzH-cXKR3tgxMUDa90MrhdJ5EMrJI5iLtoEuqZm3ktL_cQuzXWU0eKlMv2WSrlgdXFNEn-YVVn8cO8/s1600/DSCN0874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgr38X8L8Xo4PUnnmARL69uLZGjRFPvaTwMPXC26c8EjeNntbEFf9qKTku6X5-z3yAqp1RF0TNP3yOxMiWeR3fsaJrdJWZ4Syph1W5KfBQGkkL_HxJ6tUOS68_it47eGmbjR8rWxn8SmF/s1600/DSCN0880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPgr38X8L8Xo4PUnnmARL69uLZGjRFPvaTwMPXC26c8EjeNntbEFf9qKTku6X5-z3yAqp1RF0TNP3yOxMiWeR3fsaJrdJWZ4Syph1W5KfBQGkkL_HxJ6tUOS68_it47eGmbjR8rWxn8SmF/s320/DSCN0880.jpg" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieNZ6Xd4yMIKO2sr8057gL-DqfTqSfZ4GlWXUaMbJVPJSnkk1q-mJJ_9GkbPWYLzE-HQeHWS9v2OlLgb3L6XRZyyE37Z4cbsZU5Qdjk-iJcyNECAxTsrPW718y9W5nK7_Ell66CvF1jGX/s1600/IMG_3879.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiieNZ6Xd4yMIKO2sr8057gL-DqfTqSfZ4GlWXUaMbJVPJSnkk1q-mJJ_9GkbPWYLzE-HQeHWS9v2OlLgb3L6XRZyyE37Z4cbsZU5Qdjk-iJcyNECAxTsrPW718y9W5nK7_Ell66CvF1jGX/s320/IMG_3879.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
About 8:00 pm they brought Baby Girl in to meet me. I didn't know what to think and worried how I would feel finally getting to see her. I almost felt mad or resentful like I wasn't sure I even wanted to see her anymore. Holding her made a big difference and my spirits improved significantly. They even told me I could get out of bed and go to the NICU if I wanted by wheelchair to see our baby boy.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpx8K8ZD9Jk2BGZwYN33OjQDYcZdrCAJrrilMx4b6ybmPdaZ8QJAuH5nPWHZsIbX91zPCm-PRv2SY-3LIXjKCyut6yl0ILALQGAscYkyAnWLM0aFGZF7-bg6vRwwOIE_3iukjyeXXbGfkC/s1600/IMG_3883.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpx8K8ZD9Jk2BGZwYN33OjQDYcZdrCAJrrilMx4b6ybmPdaZ8QJAuH5nPWHZsIbX91zPCm-PRv2SY-3LIXjKCyut6yl0ILALQGAscYkyAnWLM0aFGZF7-bg6vRwwOIE_3iukjyeXXbGfkC/s400/IMG_3883.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meeting Baby Boy in the NICU</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJ2ki-J0EBDsUO0V7oCwT536vZtcMBfj0cgUagYGjhJbexZ8IhHYW9XKDdvtng1UyFAm_5xRE9z2R_nlYsUXki1NQ_GDky_KPNrDz1TlzZOA2GzByk6OzvyTIauLo2lHaRNl6iXsHKIRs/s1600/IMG_3854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJ2ki-J0EBDsUO0V7oCwT536vZtcMBfj0cgUagYGjhJbexZ8IhHYW9XKDdvtng1UyFAm_5xRE9z2R_nlYsUXki1NQ_GDky_KPNrDz1TlzZOA2GzByk6OzvyTIauLo2lHaRNl6iXsHKIRs/s400/IMG_3854.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
Getting out of bed was horribly painful. My lower body was horribly swollen, more so than at any point in my pregnancy and I have the stretch marks on my hips and thighs to prove it (much more and much deeper than any I had at my induction the night before) and even sitting up to get out of bed was awfully painful. I wished I could jump from lying down to standing and had to have a donut to even sit. About 10 pm Abe took me to meet our little guy in the NICU. It was sad to see him all alone in that little bed with a tube in his nose but I was very happy to hold him. I felt guilty that after only a short time, maybe 10 minutes, I asked to go back to our room as I was so tired and not feeling well. Luckily when we got back to the room they had decided to transfer me to the much more comfortable Mother Baby Unit. Yay!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAHmmoG_Usa1uVB6i0Kazk6XiUIw7HojiJdRmGExWpSMXPJdc7jSmME5m_q6tyhpxKItqEeS6zJ2_hlwrn_SPbJL1FxT1EJI2hqVMHVjWFH1sViXpzq3xS5WQvV3VqwNU0CHD5p5oDMYC7/s1600/IMG_3885.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAHmmoG_Usa1uVB6i0Kazk6XiUIw7HojiJdRmGExWpSMXPJdc7jSmME5m_q6tyhpxKItqEeS6zJ2_hlwrn_SPbJL1FxT1EJI2hqVMHVjWFH1sViXpzq3xS5WQvV3VqwNU0CHD5p5oDMYC7/s320/IMG_3885.jpg" width="240" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kfkSbe_U4PLZAAcWeBk4V56_ZcGt28Z0SGWnjU5fJ_4yDQarzBLyqrUfK1oziVARwAegFfpSlk6t2-BrM7UN63gHFm53vldI6GdjDIKWukKEZtHKWS32KudcAyArLkJ23atFkSdSdOBY/s1600/IMG_3887.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kfkSbe_U4PLZAAcWeBk4V56_ZcGt28Z0SGWnjU5fJ_4yDQarzBLyqrUfK1oziVARwAegFfpSlk6t2-BrM7UN63gHFm53vldI6GdjDIKWukKEZtHKWS32KudcAyArLkJ23atFkSdSdOBY/s320/IMG_3887.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<br />
In the end, it was a pretty traumatic day. The nurse helping me right after my recovery told me that in her 20 years she had "never seen anything like [my delivery]." In the beginning I felt like it was going pretty well. My sister-in-law talks about how she loves labor and the magic of having that little baby. After my epidural and my initial labor I thought how things had been going so smoothly and maybe I could understand where she was coming from. Unfortunately, my experience shifted far from that and it was one of the hardest, scariest, and loneliest days of my life. I didn't experience that incredible urge to push, the magic of holding your baby in your arms right after the delivery, getting to look them over lovingly to count fingers and toes or enjoy that skin to skin contact.<br />
<br />
But I am so glad they are here, any way it had to happen, and I have no regrets. I guess it was a fitting end to their miraculous beginning -- it was hard getting them in and it was hard getting them out!<br />
<br />
A few days ago I cried when I coincidentally came upon this scripture:<br />
<br />
"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."<br />
Revelations 21:4<br />
<br />
I thank God that all of that heartache and pain, the years of infertility, the weeks of discomfort, the hours of pain, and the minutes of fear have passed away and have been replaced with these two miraculous blessings.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
* * *</div>
<br />
By the next morning Baby Boy was off all the tubes and finally brought to our room late the next day where he met up with his sister again for the first time since birth.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eeBJ3_xvZbhejC8woE59mLMTTITSGhdZMoxcoE7Qql3-zc8lbmbC4a5AVoHaZQOqrl-CSqeRtPxJ4oFBV_ooZ2Y2ud6Ex3JXxf0l39sY5IEwhgWzPV9JsGjKphr6h25PEXJAWmLFEy2a/s1600/IMG_0896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eeBJ3_xvZbhejC8woE59mLMTTITSGhdZMoxcoE7Qql3-zc8lbmbC4a5AVoHaZQOqrl-CSqeRtPxJ4oFBV_ooZ2Y2ud6Ex3JXxf0l39sY5IEwhgWzPV9JsGjKphr6h25PEXJAWmLFEy2a/s400/IMG_0896.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Reunited for the first time out of the womb the next day</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjskL6hpFHONN7A62a9Onzo1-usIKMbpPse16ndQEVFyXCX-0q6b2T_77dJUqZKTb0W5qzLy_51vTItIzlHAn1h4fl_TIlRFdBEwwNZYVvwReAFTr1yPzLqpa5tCYn3ocFtp510unxI8btj/s1600/IMG_0936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjskL6hpFHONN7A62a9Onzo1-usIKMbpPse16ndQEVFyXCX-0q6b2T_77dJUqZKTb0W5qzLy_51vTItIzlHAn1h4fl_TIlRFdBEwwNZYVvwReAFTr1yPzLqpa5tCYn3ocFtp510unxI8btj/s640/IMG_0936.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First family photo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>Birth Stats:</b><br />
<br />
Baby A Girl:<br />
October 8, 2015 1:13 pm<br />
6 lb 8 oz<br />
19 "<br />
<br />
Baby B Boy:<br />
October 8, 2015 1:21 pm<br />
6 lb<br />
19"<br />
<br />
<br />Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549259773779062586.post-2251841377414118632015-10-26T13:49:00.000-05:002015-10-26T13:49:04.659-05:0036 Week Update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjx2FfYnrCouIpJcT5IioB13uVBooP55rJcSi_0iWm7lVb7j6r34oY1jw4vXMj0bqb8qjwfqyZRkpZ4K2yqo0PRFg5Qj5bGFNJ_mBS9PtARRxURF9SoUsUHTOcKeZWFP4OU2PAC6yV1WHl/s1600/IMG_0956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjx2FfYnrCouIpJcT5IioB13uVBooP55rJcSi_0iWm7lVb7j6r34oY1jw4vXMj0bqb8qjwfqyZRkpZ4K2yqo0PRFg5Qj5bGFNJ_mBS9PtARRxURF9SoUsUHTOcKeZWFP4OU2PAC6yV1WHl/s400/IMG_0956.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">36 weeks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
On Friday, two days after my weekly OB appointment I went back in to the clinic after work to be evaluated. I was having symptoms of another UTI and my doctor wanted me to have a culture taken before starting a round of antibiotics. When I arrived at the clinic my systolic blood pressure was in the 140s on the first reading. I texted my doctor as this was a bit concerning to me so she arranged to have the physician in the clinic give me another NST (non-stress test -- heart rate monitoring for babies) and decided to have me do a 24 hour urine collection. (Those are pretty fun, in case you haven't experienced it for yourself, especially when you have to use the restroom about every hour while pregnant!) They also checked my blood to rule out HELLP syndrome, a form of very dangerous pre-eclampsia that my twin sister developed in her first pregnancy. Things were looking pretty normal so I got to go home and the urine test the next day came back negative for protein.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIR7f-fCxqeGZIzq7JmvwQc_0PvuPOpR_XZYvkUrcMToUW3BJlCym-rOKQstzZ7Zp14emeckl3xxxy4QEyt8uxyVOex2pNfX28LZ9UtljBolXtsiM8TrySGo2yjpbj1IveUG5D7DeXEpFa/s1600/IMG_0859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIR7f-fCxqeGZIzq7JmvwQc_0PvuPOpR_XZYvkUrcMToUW3BJlCym-rOKQstzZ7Zp14emeckl3xxxy4QEyt8uxyVOex2pNfX28LZ9UtljBolXtsiM8TrySGo2yjpbj1IveUG5D7DeXEpFa/s320/IMG_0859.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What happened to my knees? <br />
It looks like my calves belong to a different person than my thighs!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0BZZTF2gRhVHRg0KwwgvITgMse_nd_2GsTiTUR9mnjqfi_M7x6gMrRhFbHaWueVURyqFxyuOjr8JCw4m_RbkU_BWUg9AOB1NFMYzZFEOCUt6FT2WVamc2IWej3b64bKRTXarqDl91Mr-x/s1600/IMG_0957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0BZZTF2gRhVHRg0KwwgvITgMse_nd_2GsTiTUR9mnjqfi_M7x6gMrRhFbHaWueVURyqFxyuOjr8JCw4m_RbkU_BWUg9AOB1NFMYzZFEOCUt6FT2WVamc2IWej3b64bKRTXarqDl91Mr-x/s400/IMG_0957.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a difference a few weeks can make! ~10 days post part</td></tr>
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As the week progressed, I noticed my weight during this time had really jumped. I suddenly gained about 16 pounds in 10 or 12 days and 8 pounds in four days. This was concerning to me as I noticed I could no longer find my knees! My ankles and feet were getting much larger which has been unusual for me as long as I am wearing my compression stockings and I noticed my entire legs were looking much bigger. I went to work through Tuesday and asked them to not add on any additional patients for the day as I "was feeling it today." I felt a bit off and they were able to move most of my patients up so I could leave early. One of the nurses I work with checked my blood pressure throughout the day and it fluctuated from 120-140s. After seeing patients, I had to do a quick CPR session for some continuing education before leaving for home. I technically failed to perform adequate CPR for the last of the three cycles on the mannequin but the instructor could tell it had more to do with my large belly and lack of physical energy than any deficiencies in skill or training so she passed me. All of the people who witnessed me performing chest compressions seemed to think it was pretty funny.</div>
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After speaking to my doctor, we decided I should head in to clinic for another check so I drove straight from work. It felt like De'ja'vu being back there again just a few days later. They checked my urine again with a dip stick and found some protein and my BP was above 140 again. I was surprised how quickly things could change when I was just checked a few days prior for the same things. </div>
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I was sent back up to Labor and Delivery for some additional monitoring. They did another longer NST and drew some more blood. My cervix was checked without significant changes from before, dilated to a 2 and effaced to 1 cm. My BP continued to fluctuate. While in clinic it was almost 150 systolic, lying in bed it was down to 102 or 104 in Labor and Delivery. I had a minor headache which wasn't fully relieved with pain medication and my swelling was pretty substantial. My doctor, who happened to be on call, diagnosed me with gestational hypertension and informed me that as such she would like to move my induction date up a week from October 21 at 38 weeks to October 14 at 37 weeks. I honestly was a little relieved to know the babies would be coming a little earlier and having a better idea when this would happen. </div>
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I was released from Labor and Delivery that night and I was instructed to perform another 24 hour urine collection. This would help us know if I was actually having signs of pre-eclampsia which is diagnosed after signs of end organ damage (signs would be protein in the urine from kidney damage, elevated liver enzymes from liver damage, etc).<br />
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Shortly after arriving home I lost my mucous plug. I have been told this can be a sign of early labor but I also read it can sometimes happen weeks before delivery and figured it had to do with the cervical exam so I didn't think too much of it.<br />
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The next morning I had my scheduled 36 week ultrasound but the appointment with my doctor was cancelled as I had just seen her the night before. I was excited to see the babies one last time and see their weights. I figured they would be over 6 lbs this time. I was also starting to wrap my mind around seeing the babies in one more week. I was excited but suddenly realizing it would be here very quickly and wondering if I was quite ready.<br />
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I guess I was about to find out!<br />
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<b>Week 36:</b></div>
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Weight: max weight on Oct 3 = 197.8 lb (our smart scale started identifying me as Abraham!). On Oct 6 weight = 191.1 lb.</div>
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Total Weight Gain: 49.1-55.8 lbs </div>
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<b>*</b>Abe spoke with another twin mom about this time who told him that I would "Grow exponentially in the next few weeks." I didn't really believe that could be true but it turned out she was right. For the first time, I had a few strangers comment on my size --this still seemed to only happen at the hospital on my way in to appointments. One woman asked about my pregnancy as she slowly made her way down the hall with her walker, only to tell her friend on the phone something like,"Oh this poor little girl is <i><b>hobbling</b></i> in, pregnant with twins and about to pop!" Pretty bad when the sick elderly patient with the walker is taking pity on my lack of mobility! </div>
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Less than *1 week* to go!</div>
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**New induction date at 37 weeks</div>
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Erinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05602707566166046783noreply@blogger.com0