Study Time

Before 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.

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.

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.

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."

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 unreasonable hopes that this would work, but it would be something I would possibly consider.

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.

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 probably related. HORMONES!

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.

As I said before, I didn't have high (or probably any real) 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 good ole' fashioned way 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 anti-poster child for these medications.

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:

I have no previous experience with this but I think that's a positive

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.

Yesterday Once More

May 22, 2017

Today was my blood test, the end of the infamous "two week wait."

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.

It was a familiar conversation.

Abe: "It came back negative."
Me: "Oh, okay.
(Abe: silence)
Me: "Well, not surprising I guess. Hmmm. (Awkward pause)"
Abe: "I guess I should go get ready for my next case."
Me: "Okay, I love you."

We have had this conversation 5 times now with only slight variations in the script. Maybe that is what made it easier to hear.

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 would work, that this cycle 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.

Taken by my MIL as I cried in my room

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."

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.

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.

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.

Our Hail Mary

May 11, 2017

Our embryo transfer was today. 

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.

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.

#1 shows the split embryos

#2 shows the questionable transferred embryo

#3 shows the non-transferred, non-viable embryo

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.

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!"

They gave us 5% odds.

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.

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.

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?)

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.

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!).


But...

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.




They are miraculous. And enough. If I don't get another baby we still have a perfect family.

Abe and I are putting it in God's hands, one more time.

T-1 to Transfer Day

May 10, 2017

Do I really want to do THIS again???
I was HUGE and that was HARD.

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 must 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!

* * *

Tomorrow is the big day, my round #6 of IVF, FET (frozen embryo transfer) #5.

I still don't know what time I need to be there...I better double check this afternoon.

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!"

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?

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.

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.

Needle Phobic People Beware

Injection target area for PIO 

April 23, 2017

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!








May 6, 2017

More needles!

I started my PIO (progesterone in oil) injections tonight. Back at it! The huge bag of needles
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, hip) and it comes out to about 5 months.

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.

The medication is so thick it can be difficult to draw up.

The target areas are so different every time depending on which nurse you have.
I think these were the best so far... much less painful than any other cycle.

I can inject myself but I prefer the emotional support of having Abe do it for me.

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.

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).

Fat chance of that, as who knows if I EVER ovulate. 

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).

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.

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...?

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.


*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.

Hormone-ee-e-es: Wow, just wow!

April 18, 2017

The medication schedule for IVF is so strict and complicated you get a calendar to stay on track!

24 hours after taking my first pills and I feel out of whack. Cranky and sad. Incredibly cranky and sad.

Nothing is wrong but it feels like the world is falling down.

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!

Mum is the word

April 17, 2017

I already said this time feels different.

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.

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.

I do find myself almost 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.

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."

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change"

The Final Round

Here's a peak into my journals for those of you wondering what I have been up to.


April 17, 2017

On a whim I decided maybe it was time to try for embryo baby #3 -- or actually, technically, #6. 

Who does that? 

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?

Add to it the part about having to be pregnant. (Man that was hard!)

Why didn't anyone tell my I was this big?!

Oh yeah, and then there is the whole IVF part: 

The shots. 

The pills. 

The frequent appointments. 

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. 

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...)

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 today."

Before I knew it, I was getting my first of many upcoming needle sticks with a blood draw for my thyroid levels. 

Nurse: "We need to get your blood drawn? When can you come?" 

Me: "How about now I guess?"

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. 

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.

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? 

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. 

Amazingly I didn't cry. But I questioned if I was strong enough and brave enough to do this all again. 

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.

Mister and Sister's first baby picture

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. 

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.)

I am anxious to finally know if I can give away my baby gear. I am also terrified to think I may have to. 

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. 

The Big One

photo credit Chelsee Sheffield

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")! 

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.

I have noticed myself hesitantly measuring my own progression in life by the growing children of my friends:

Our marriage is a 5th grader now! 

My career in private practice is walking and throwing tantrums. 

And my time as a mother is a one year old (well two one year olds)!

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.  

And it does feel like an accomplishment, maybe especially with twins. 

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. 

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?)

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! 

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?

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. 

It is strange but exciting that now I can measure the passing of our lives in the progress of my own children. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Written Fall 2016, shortly after birthday #1!

We are breaking up...

Dear Medela,

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.

Then again, you aren't --and that's the problem.

You think you own me and frankly, are a bit controlling.
You dictate what I wear. No dresses unless they have stretchy necklines or buttons! Nothing too fancy!
You leave your messes behind you--in my car, the couch, my kitchen.
You won't let me see friends when I am with you.
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.

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!

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!"

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

Sincerely,
Erin

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!

Twin Skin and Tiger Stripes

Photo credit: Sarah Siler Photography

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 Blueberry Girl 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.

Looking back I was bigger than I remember!

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."

Again, bigger than I realized!

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.

Induction day edema

What happened to my knees?

Home post partum a few days later!

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.

Induction day

13 days after delivery

13 days after delivery -- not hard to feel skinny after as big as I was!

Halloween, about 3 weeks after delivery

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.

I didn't expect "The Mom" look to come so fast.
Maybe with two babies at once you accelerate along the path to Mom Bod that much faster.

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.

But I couldn't be happier.

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...

I couldn't be happier.

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.

It is a tool. It is an instrument. And an amazing one that has done amazing things. It has survived years of infertility. It has overcome hundred of shots and ravages on its system with synthetic hormones and mad scientist happenings. It has carried and delivered two healthy babies. It has provided much of their needed nutrition. All of this automatically, miraculously, without any input or feedback from me consciously.


***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. 

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. 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. 

Every day is a new day! I feel so lucky to have this wonderful body to live it with. ***

My Complex Mother's Day, or is it My Mother's Day Complex?

Today is my first REAL Mother's Day.

Last year felt like the first time I was given permission to "enjoy" Mother's Day, as I was pregnant and on my way to motherhood.

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.

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.

Hence the awkwardness:

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.


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).

And none of that happened.
I was a little disappointed.

But my infertile self was relieved. (Do those feelings ever go away?)

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. 

For me, being a mother is about waking up in the middle of the night to soothe crying babies.
(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.

It is about never doing your hair and baby bodily fluids as your most common accessory. And somehow not minding.

It is about doing whatever it takes for baby smiles and laughs (and trying your hardest to catch it on video for grandma).

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.

It is sharing your body with another person (or two) and being okay (most days) with the changes left behind.

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!

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.


It is coming home after a long hard day to smiles and slobbery kisses and squishy chubby thighs.

* * *

It is about miracles. . . Some already here and some waiting to happen.

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.

* * *

Whatever this complex day brings for you, I hope you can find some peace and sunshine. And hopefully some chocolate.

XOXOXO,

Erin

From Belly To Birth and Abdominal Stirrings

Photo cred: Sarah Siler Photography

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!

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 From Belly to Birth. 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?).

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.

Enjoy!

http://frombellytobirth.com/2016/03/16/ivf-boy-girl-twins/

Where Have We Been?

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.

Our handsome devil and little pumpkin

 

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.

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.

 

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.

 

Q: When do you go back to work?

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. 

Q: How are the babies?

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.

Also, since I am not using their names online I have decided they will be known now as "Mister" and "Sister."

 

Q: Are they on the same schedule? 

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.

 

Q: Do you nurse them at the same time?

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! 

 

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.



Q: Do they sleep in the same bed?
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...?

Q: Do they sleep through the night?

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.

You get creative in baby holding and maneuvering

Q: How are you recovering?

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.

Q: Did your mom come live with you after the babies? 

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.

It seems everyone is a little tired taking care of two babies!