Plan Z

Thanks for reading

Today is my birthday. I am 43. These are the happiest days of my life. In my wildest dreams, I never thought I’d be living this life. I think one of the best things about it is I am constantly catching myself smiling unconsciously, at something a baby is doing. They are just so unbelievably amazing. Every day is a new milestone and my God the FUN! We are having a blast right now.

My babies are very healthy, and growing, and thriving. Dylan has two teeth now, both are holding their own bottles and we are eating three solid meals a day. There is a lot of scooting and rolling, and crawling is only a few weeks away. Both bear weight on their legs, and Dylan stands for minutes while holding on to the coffee table. They are very happy babies. They just love each other and laugh and laugh at one another. One of the funniest things they do is to try to out rock each other when playing in the exersaucers. It is hilarious.

Of course life has its ups and downs, by far the best thing for me right now is being home and playing with them. But I still have to go to my dreary job three days a week. Also, we are not moving anytime soon. Christmas at the soonest. I just can’t make the numbers pencil out. But it is okay, we will do what we can to make this cave a home and baby friendly. Another down is that I have been very sick for almost a month. What I thought was allergies has become a serious case of bronchitis, in fact the doctor ordered me to rest unless I want pneumonia. I have just been going too hard for too long with not enough rest. But my online job contract is up next week, and after I get the house together, I am taking a few more weeks off and then will begin my studies as a medical transcriptionist. It seems like the most logical route to go to do what I want. I just wish I could buy a home before I leave my day job. But one day at a time. I can’t get myself worked up right now, I need to get better.

I am also very unsure as to where this blog is going. Whatever readership I still have is certainly quite small. I just don’t have time anymore to read all your wonderful blogs, comment, and post to my own in any creative way. I may be taking it down, changing the focus, or just keeping myspace for updates. If I do keep it or start a new blog, it will be largely political, since I have joined the campaign for the next president. Can you guess which candidate I am supporting? Hehe.

To be perfectly honest with you the fact that these are donor conceived children is not a big deal or a huge concern for me. Yet. It will be several years before I begin to explain to them how they came to be. In the meantime, it is just not an issue. Obviously I am very grateful to my egg donor. I think of her and thank her every day. But as for the donor issues out there in the world, I must be quite honest and selfishly say I simply don’t care enough right now to post about it. They are my children, I am their mother. It’s as simple as that. The fact that they are donor conceived is as about as much an issue as if they were adopted. I am much more interested in the fact that my baby boy hates peas and my pretty little girl loves being tickled on her neck. To me, these things are in the forefront right now.

I also have a completely different perspective on life now that I am a parent. Before I had my twins, I constantly worried about where my life was going. What was happening with my career? Would I ever meet Mr. Right? Where will I retire? Always, big projects and plans. Now, I completely live in the moment. And I have to tell you, it’s really the only way to live. I could care less about Mr. Right anymore. I do get lonely, but it just is not a major focus of my life AT ALL. And my career? I am ready for a complete change. The only kinds of things I care about are getting ready for lunch or naptime. Setting up my second crib. Taking the babies to the park so they can fall in love with the outdoors like I have. And playing. Playing, playing, playing! I get to have a second childhood, two times over.

I am also removing all the pictures. If you want to be updated, email me and I will give you myspace address, where all the pictures will be posted and updated. It is highly likely that myspace will also be set to private. I know it seems paranoid, but I am always one to err on the side of caution, even if it means getting the eyeroll from some people.

So this will be the last post for quite some time. Please comment or email me if you want to be updated on the new blog, or get access to myspace. Thanks for reading.

Dualing raspberries

This is what I listen to for hours the days I am home. Dylan has been teething as you can see.  I am sorry I have not posted, but it is extremely busy working two jobs, keeping thier appointments, starting a huge dental project, and going through teething hell is quite tiring.

Just not much to report other than we're hoping to move sometime this summer, but we shall see. I am just trying to take things one day at a time, but as the saying goes, I often get attacked by several days at once.

Hope you enjoy the videos. Thanks for reading.

It's not really about the numbers, is it?

Tragedy at Virginia Tech. Many thoughts and prayers to the victims' families.

Please, let us not forget that more innocent Iraqi civilians are murdered each day, and more American young people die* in two weeks justified by "Operation Iraqi Freedom." But that's okay, right, because it's not at the hand of a madman?

Or is it?

I'm just sayin'.

*Average monthly US troops killed in Iraq since March 19, 2003: 60.66 (source: USDOD)

*Average daily innocent Iraqi cilvilians killed since March 19, 2003: 48.39 (source: IBC)

I know what causes autism

If you are a parent, you have hopefully heard of the alarming rise in autism diagnosis of children in the United States and other developed countries. Autism is now the leading concern for children at the CDC, more than cancer, AIDS, and accidents combined. Where rates were once 3 in 10,000, they are now, depending where you look, 1 in 500, 1 in 150, or even more — between a three- and a ten-fold increase. This unhappy reality has researchers, doctors, and of course, parents, totally stunned.

What is causing it?

Well, everyone on a soapbox has a thoery, and everyone else stops thinking for themselves and echoes the latest theory on conservative talk radio. As a new parent, I am very concerned and of course I want to do everything I can to protect my children. Unless that makes me look neurotic (eyes rolling now). The rates have been increasing for quite some time, and now that Oprah has done a show on it things should hopefully be getting the attention they deserve.

So, from what I have discovered so far: it is generally accepted fact that there is a genetic component to autism, it does run in families, but just because no one in the family has ever had it, does not mean your children are immune. It is also accepted fact that there is some environmental trigger that, if a child is genetically predisposed, causes changes in the wiring of the brain which in turn causes autism. 90% of brain connections are formed from conception to the age of six.

From what I understand a few years ago there was a huge concern that childhood vaccines contained an agent that was a trigger. Thermerisol, which contains mercury, was used to preserve vaccines and it is well known that heavy metals accumulate in the body and are not metabolized out. Namely, in the brain. So studies were done using the Amish as a control group, since they use no vaccines and also have autism rates that are not even a blip on the screen. A huge media frenzy then occcured to the point that thermerisol was removed from all vaccines, and yet autism rates continued to rise. So that was pretty much ruled out. But there is another vaccine that is currently being targeted: MMR. I don't know enough about this one to comment on it, but I of course plan to do my ad nauseum research and find out since the twins have another round of shots coming up soon.

Another theory is television. A study was done and using the theory that the rise in cable television, and particulary programming aimed at children, exploded in the 80's exponentially and correlates very nicely with the rise in autism rates. Again, the Amish were used as a control group.  Now this makes a lot of sense to me since being a biologist I know something about the brain and its development. Two dimensional, brightly colored, fast paced cartoons, commercials and videos are the norm now on TV. It's so overstimulating sometimes that I can't watch it and I'm an adult. An infant's brain can become wired to process this type of image over and over for 10 hour a day and then cannot process the normal, 3 dimensional, slow moving world. Makes sense to me. Enough sense that I limit the babies TV to one hour a day,and then just Sesame Street. Until I know for sure they can watch more without harm I won't let them any more than I would let them drink Pepsi from thier bottles.

Some believe that food additives and the crappy American diet are to blame, but the jury is still out on this one. Another theory is chemicals in cleaning products and air fresheners and/or indoor air pollution. Still others think it just a reporting error, that caregivers, parents and doctors are better informed and watching children more closely for signs of ADD and ADHD, then autism is diagnosed more than it was in the past. I have a hard time with this one since these children would all be in special eduction and I think it would be obvious there was a problem.

But I actually found out today what causes it. My boss, who is addicted to talk radio, and I don't mean NPR, informed me that it was single parents that were to blame for the rise in autism rates. It's bad parenting, you know, to only have one family member raising kids. He refused to recognize the fact that autism strikes the rich, poor, single parent, traditional family, black, white, brown, asian, all segments of the population. He then went on to inform me that autism is a moral punishment for those who don't have a traditional marriage and so thier kids get sick.

Um, ya.

He quickly added, "Oh, but not you, I know you're a good mother." to save his ass since my jaw was on the floor. 

So now you see why I want to leave this awful place. Thanks for reading.

The joy of newborn twins

Katty has had her babies and has updated her blog!! Both babies healthy and mom adjusting okay. So very very happy. Just to let you know her story is so very similar to mine; a haze of confusion is all I recall from most of my hospital stay. Reading her account brings it all back somewhat. What an amazing time. Congratulations Kat.

Milestones

I realize I run the risk of getting dooced * with this post and others, but to tell you the truth, I really don't care. Things have been pretty interesting since I returned to work. It was okay at first, but now I truly know that it wasn't just post partum, laziness, or extreme love for my babies that made me dread it so. It is really a dreary place to be. Boring. Slow. And I'm continually subjected to exhausting complaining from everyone. I swear, for what all these people make, I have never been around such whiners, backstabbers, and generally unappreciative people who talk shit much more than they work. It's hard to believe sometimes that these are all professionals. Either that or I'm just more sensitive to it now because I'm just so happy.

I did get an online job, I am working part time now for a well-known .com that I cannot disclose as per the contract. It will be a probationary position for 90 days, when both parties will decide if full time is appropriate. The pay is also temporary; it will almost double after a long-term contract is signed. So we'll see, but I am really excited about it. I just have to figure out how I'm going to take care of medical insurance for us all since I will be an independent contractor. That is going to be a headache. I also have some pressing dental work to get done before I give notice. The state of California is not big on insuring college graduates that walk away from a very good paying job. Understandable. But in order to get the babies covered, they have to go without ANY coverage for 90 days, which I'm not willing to do.

As for the child care situation, I am amazingly lucky in that I have a wonderful lady who I've known for 30 years who completely loves the babies, is always buying stuff for them, and actually offered to watch them for nothing. Of course I'm paying her but it really turned out to be a blessing since I was more wracked over leaving them with strangers and not knowing how well they were being cared for. But I totally trust her, even though it kills me to leave them for 9 hours. It takes me an hour or two to just get to normal so I can work, not that there is much work to do. Still playing solitaire.

In much happier and more fun news, the babies are both amazing. Not only are they huge, but they are crossing milestones.

Dylan loves to grab at everything, and he's getting very good at holding on to items for a short time. He is so sweet and is just the hungry little monkey. He laughs, and talks to me alot. He is very long and skinny, and is wearing 6-9 month stuff.

Tori is grasping things too, she pulled her pacifier out of her mouth yesterday, looked at it, and put it back in her mouth. She has discovered her voice, and is practicing that little girl scream that curdles the blood. Hehe. She also rolled over from belly to back today. She is just so yummy, like a little butterball. It really is fun dressing her up, although I never thought I'd be that way with a girl. But it's all pink, ribbons, and bows. Um, ya. Who'da thunk it??

They sleep very well now, just waking up once a night, and we spend so much more time playing, singing, laughing. They really notice one another a lot now; in fact, I realized that I cannot separate them or they get upset. Every morning I put them together and they play with each other, reaching out hands and kicking. It is so sweet, especially when they talk and laugh together.  Now you tell me it's more fun sitting in some boring meeting listening to old fat bald guys drone on and on about useless TPS reports and mission statements?  I'm sorry, but it's just REALLY hard for me to get excited about the cost analysis I did; I'd rather play peek a boo and patty cakes. Call me crazy.

I don't look forward to being broke, but I will say it again: they will only be little once.

*I haven't visited Heather's site in a long time,and I just think it's achingly sweet that she is now fully supported by the website that once got her fired.

The end of an era

Okay, I know I promised to stop complaining about going back to work, but I just have to share these pics with you. My family leave officially ends today, and tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock I will be back in my office, trying to make sense of things since going on leave October 13, 2006.

So the day before I go back I get this brilliant idea to reorganize the entire house, and in going through all the baby clothes I've collected in the last year, I came across the twins' newborn outfits they came home from the hospital in. Though they were not preemies, they wore preemie sizes way back when. They were nothing fancy, just onesies with matching caps. Here is the hospital photo at 2 days old:

By that time Dylan had dropped from 6 lb. even to 5 lb. 10 oz, and Tori went from 6 lb. 3 oz. to 5 lb. 12 oz. Now look at these photos from this afternoon:

    

At three and a half months, they are both 13 lb. 3 oz. I tell myself I'm glad they are past that super delicate phase, when they are just like little kittens and you are afraid you will break them when you pick them up. Now I throw them into the air and they laugh and laugh. So it's more fun. But still....my babies are already growing too fast.

*Sniff*

Frogfest 2007

Every year the spring rains here liberate the frog eggs that have been buried in mud since last year. Within a week thousands of teenage frogs wrought with sexual angst go into romance mode and they sing to one another all night. Since I have two ditches very close by, I am treated to a symphony of horny amphibians each night to go along with the brilliant star display I enjoy after the rains clear the air. It’s really kind of cool. Everything else about spring here in the foothills in California is awesomely beautiful, and is perhaps the main reason I refuse to move back to the valley or to a city.

I wish I had the camera ready when I see things, but even if I did I am certainly no wildlife photographer. I should be after graduating with a degree in ecology. Instead I will humor you with some plagiarized pics from my fellow biologists who are. Across the lane my neighbor must have some yummy seeds in the yard because several times I have seen a covey of about 20 of the fattest quail  I have ever seen feeding there. I’m assuming they are preparing to lay their eggs and should be hatching out soon. They probably don’t come to my lawn because of the cats. My bird feeders are finally full of seed, and I’ve got syrup in the hummingbird ones. The hummingbirds are so gorgeous, the males are iridescent. They are also quite aggressive and if I don’t watch out I nearly get whacked by an incoming.

Many people on my road have horses, and the mares are beginning to have their foals. I adore these cute little colts, and it will be one treat I do enjoy while driving to and from work. All the trees are beginning to bud and leaf out, and of course the wildflowers. Unbelieveable . Breathtaking swaths of yellow, purple, and orange  against the bright green background of the native grasses. So I promise I will stop bitching about going to work, because as commutes go, I have a really nice one.

I also spend too much time trashing the Valley, it is nice in spring because as you may or may not know, at the foot of the Sierra Nevada this time of year is the world famous Blossom Trail . California is the number one producer of fruits and vegetables in the world, and literally millions of orchard  trees bearing peach, plum, nectarine, and apricot blossoms grace the outskirts of town. Also cherry, orange, tangerine, lemon, and lime. Between these and the wildflowers my allergies kick in full swing, but it is so worth it for the few weeks of glorious color. By mid April everything will be brown from the baking sun. But for now, I’ll enjoy it.

Especially since this year I have my own to celebrate spring with. Thanks for reading.

God bless the USA

Q: What's it really like to be an American?

A: When you get really excited about your tax refund, until you realize it was your money to begin with.

We are doing okay, the babes are in another growth spurt and feeding like little piglets. And my God, they really do grow fast. I know I have not posted 3 month pictures yet, but I've been in a major funk over going back to work on Wednesday.

There are a few irons in the fire, but nothing has panned out yet. I'm doing okay moneywise and the refund will help, but I won't leave until I have a secure income.  I'm really bummed about it. But...there is good news out there - Katty is about to have her twins, and Rae is doing another cycle!!! Thanks for reading.

Sorrow and forgiveness

JO's brother has died. He died on January 5 and I just found out about it yesterday. I have been weeping off and on since I found out. I also emailed JO to offer my condolences. Of his five brothers, Bobby and I were the closest. He was my friend. I always hoped someday we would be able to be friends again. But I wasn't able to forgive JO and I didn't think I could see his brothers without hurting. I missed all of them, but especially Bobby. We were close, the same age, and I adored the way he cared for his little girl when she was a baby. In fact, I had been thinking of him a great deal since my babies were born.

It just hurts because his death was painful and he suffered a great deal. I won't go into the details here, but it is just heartbreaking to think of him hurting that much. He was a kind, gentle soul, not at all like JO, and we bonded because we both had to deal with the wrath of JO's temper. He was a sweet, sweet person. I am just so sad. We had so many fun times. Thinking of them just makes me sadder.

I had already realized that I didn't hate JO anymore. These babies have filled my heart with so much love that all the hate just got pushed out. I had not planned to contact him, but when I did, my heart ached for his loss. Bobby was like a son to him, 9 years younger, and raised him since their father died shortly after Bobby was born. He was happy for me, we exchanged the typical "nice to hear from you" rhetoric, and that was all we typed to each other.

The unfairness of life sometimes makes me wonder, WHAT THE FUCK??? I know there's a reason but it had better be good. In the meantime I hope I get to see him again. This song by George Strait is for you, Bobby. See you on the other side! (don't listen unless you have kleenex handy.)

Download george_straityoull_be_there.mp3

Single mother of four

I have a really bad habit of forgetting that I actually have four kids: two human and two feline. The feline ones are adopted, I did not give birth to them, but I love them just as much as my "birth children."

They have been generally understanding since I brought the twins home, but lately we have been having some issues. I don't know if it's just spring fever, or if they have a secret pact with the babies to drive me out of my mind.

Many people who are infertile or childless by choice have a special fondness for their pets. I have always had cats, ever since I can remember, and there was always a joke in my family that I'd end up an old lady in a huge house with a million cats. Even though this would probably be true if I had not had the twins, it still hurt when they teased like that. I have always loved my cats inordinately; any infertile will surely understand.

Bandit is a special girl, she was one of two dumpster kitties I adopted in 1995. She is just about the prettiest little calico I've ever seen and is very sweet, when you can get her in the house. When Mom lived up here, her cat Ringo disappeared, so I gave her Bandit since I already had Airbourne, the King of Kitties. 

 

So after Mom passed in 1999 and I moved in here, Bandit was kind enough to allow me to room here. She is half wild, and often brings me presents, like a dead mouse or gopher, even though I have explained to her that I don't care for rodents. Occasionaly I will find a bird or other offering on the porch when I get home. She rarely comes in the house; just to eat once in awhile, and since she is so skittish and scared, she has hardly been in at all since the babies arrived. She is afraid of them.

Spooky is the princess of the house; she has been my constant companion since Airbourne died in 2004. Airbourne was my baby for 12 years and I cried for a month over that dumb cat; it was really devastating, since he was fine one day and gone the next. Kind of like Mom passed. So after I started feeling better, I adopted Spooky since I knew if anything ever happened to Bandit I would lose it. I needed a backup kitty. Spookster is very attentive; she slept on me every night since I brought her home; and she was so wonderful to have when I was pregnant.

Since the babies have been here Spooky has pretty much kept herself in the background, she has only recently come to me at night when the babes are finally asleep. She will sleep with me now. She is only mildly interested in them; she will sniff them intently then walk away. But lately she has this galloping through the house thing going on, jumping on everything in the living room; anything to get my attention. Of course she only does this when I'm preoccupied with a fussy baby, or playing and singing to one of them. Then of course in the midst of changing, feeding, burping, and trying to catch a wink of sleep here and there, I sometimes forget to feed her and change her water. The Cardinal Sin. I feel bad about this; but I am getting better.

Bandit on the other hand is actually coming in the house now, but if she sees a baby she freaks and cries at the door. I actually had all four crying at the same time today. Who would've thunk I would someday have four kids crying at the same time?? Thanks for reading.

They’re only going to be little once (or, the No-brainer)

Someone please tell me I’m making the right decision. I am facing the dilemma that every mother in this country faces when they become a parent. Going back to work. I’ve never been happier and I’ve never been unhappier.

Let’s do the intelligent thing: weigh the pros and cons.

I’ve never been happier because I finally am living the life I’ve dreamed of for years and years. And I’ve never been unhappier because the very thought of leaving my children with strangers, missing out on even one smile, not to mention important milestones like walking and talking, is so unbearable that I cannot even think about it for more than a minute. I don’t even have to do the pro and con thing because I think I made up my mind about this before I even got pregnant. I know this because I have lived in a trailer park and put up with noisy neighbors, a long commute, isolation, and a drafty, old, and tacky home for the last seven years because I thought I might need the economy of this living arrangement someday.

OK. I really do have it made at work. I’m in the same boat as Cecily. I've worked long and hard to get to this point. And they are giving me everything I want. Including an awesome salary. They’re letting me work part time. I suffered through years of agonizing college courses and five years of making a name of myself. I have my own nice office. I have the perk of intelligent conversation with colleagues my own age. I have great benefits, retirement and the respect of my family and friends. Those are the pros.

Cons: My supervisors and certain associates are very conservative. They look down their nose at me for my decision. It is a government job, and mind-numbingly boring. I was convinced I could do it in three days a week, in fact, I could do it in one day a week. I count the hours and minutes until I get to leave. That was before I had babies. They have the surveillance thing going on, and I have gotten written up for surfing the web. I also have to think about the commute, getting the twins into the car, driving 45 minutes, and sitting at my desk for 8 long hours while I dream of my beautiful babies in a room full of bratty, violent kids who will give them every cold and flu virus imaginable. So, be a stressed-out mom, always worrying about being on time and what is happening to my children while I’m playing solitaire and kissing my Bush-loving boss’s ass.

Staying home: pros: I get to be with my beautiful babies 24-7. I do what I want when I want. Enough said. Those two sentences say volumes. But I also get to stay up as late as I want. My house will be clean all the time. And I will finally get to really appreciate this beautiful place I live in, the oak trees, the birds, the river, and the stars at night. And I will be living a relaxed, low stress life and be a happy mom. Um, okay.

Cons: Being poor, worrying about money, eating beans and potatoes. Duh. I’ve done this all my life, except the last five years. Who knows I might just lose some weight not indulging on ribs, crab legs with butter and God in heaven the chocolate. The babies won’t care. But I do have some big hills to climb here: selling my love bug and buying a used 4-door with no payments; liquidating my retirement; relying on the state for the babes medical coverage. Dealing with white trash neighbors who now hate me for filing complaints against them for their thumping music. Hm, no big, right? They’re only going to be little once.

I love great quotes. Walt Disney said, "I love Mickey Mouse more than any woman I’ve ever known." Yes. I can relate. I’ve loved some amazing men. But I’m sorry, guys, nothing compares to these gorgeous, healthy babes. T tried to explain to me how you fall in love with your children, how there is twice the love for two. But I had no idea. I guess you just have to live it to really understand what that means.

I don’t mind the crying at 4 am. The slobber, the spit up, the poopy diapers. The fussiness. The hassle getting out of the house just to go for milk. The constant demands on my time. And don’t get me wrong. I love sleep more than chocolate. But I actually have found myself getting up early because I just want to hold them. To see them smile. To hear them laugh. To see them grow and change every day, every hour. And yes, it gets stressful. Sometimes I wish they would just shut up and go to sleep. One falls asleep, the other wakes up. But I don’t care. One smile and my heart is gone. I am truly in love. Whatever makes them happy makes me happy. I know they will be spoiled. Completely. But what can I do.

I see my daughter swaddled with a binkie, just sucking every few seconds. Why is this just the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. Or my son just sitting up propped on the couch, arms flailing, smiling up at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. There is no amount of money or useless crap in my closet that can ever compare to that. Because they are happy. Content. Healthy. Money is crap. It means nothing. Being with them means more than a million dollars. Even Pamela Anderson said, "I had my kids so I could raise them myself."

And this is nothing compared to what is coming. Getting excited about bugs. Learning to swim. Reading. Spending lots of time with family and friends. How do I do all that and still get ready for work? I know millions of women do it. But I know I won’t be happy, stressed out all the time. I just want a little freedom to enjoy this. Without being a slave to a damn time clock.

The thing is, I only get to do this once. And I’m old enough to know that it is the most amazing and important thing I will ever do. So why am I so worried. Is it that I may never go back ? Once they are in preschool I will. But I still want to be here when they get home.

So it really is a no-brainer. I have no idea how I’m going to pull this off. I just have to make sure I have enough dough to keep up my DSL connection so I can still blog.

Thanks for reading.

Good night, sweet princess

Yes, she was nuts. Yes, she was white trash. Yes, she was a gold-digging bimbo. But she did whatever the hell she wanted to do and she didn't give a fiddler's fart what anybody thought. I just tear up when I think about her dancing her ass off with her son at the biggest party in the universe.

You go girl!

I chain scarf brownies in the dark.

OK. I am taking the first step of recovery from addiction: admitting I have a problem. What is with the chocolate. Every day. There are Hershey’s kisses wrappers everywhere. I have been known to load sleeping babies in the car and race to the store 10 minutes away at 11:45 pm just before they close. I tell you, it’s not helping that Valentine’s Day keeps the stores full of pretty boxes just full of delight. Plus the fact that that two weeks after the babes were born I was down to my pre pregnancy weight, which is now creeping up thanks to the candy bars, the chocolate frosting, the brownies, the hot cocoa, the cookies, etc. I even made my famous sugar free chocolate mousse yesterday, the first time since JO was around. Granted, it has less calories than the usual, but the FAT. Dear Lord.

Is it a hormone thing? I wonder. But something has got to be done, since I am preparing a 12-step plan to deal with my allergies this year, and the caffeine and chocolate have got to go.

I felt pretty good about it when I was expecting, I did not indulge as much as I do now, and studies show that in moderation, chocolate during pregnancy makes happy babies (thanks Moxie for the link).

If I could just cut it down. Maybe when my normal cycle starts again (it hasn’t). Not that I’m looking forward to that. It was hilarious when Dr. Love asked me what I planned on using for birth control at my final post-partum appointment. I looked at him like he had lost his mind. If I got pregnant naturally now, I would become an atheist. WTF. Plus in order to get pregnant, you usually have to have a date first. The last one of those I had was six months ago. But that’s a subject for another post.

See you at the next Chocoholics Anonymous meeting. Thanks for reading.

Post script: The twins had their first shots today. All I have to say is OH. MY. GOD. The scientist in me causes me to research everything to the nth degree, but I had no clue that I too would cry. It damn near broke my heart. They won't calm down anywhere but in my arms, cuddled on my chest. Poor lambs!

Hypothetically speaking, of course

Okay. let's say you are driving to your brother's in the morning, and you spot a Starbuck's with a drive-thru. Your babies are in the back, fast asleep, and have just been changed, fed, and burped; and this is thier regular naptime. You pull into the drive-thru and see it has two vehicles in front of you. Just as you are pulling in two things happen: two more vehicles immediately pull in behind you, and your baby boy begins to fuss.

Within seconds he begins to cry; then scream -  the full-on trauma variety of screaming; red-faced, shaking, scared to death and has lost touch with reality. The cars in front of you are not moving, as the minutes tick by. You get more and more upset; your boy gets louder and more traumatized, which causes you to begin crying also. The car in front of you turns off his engine, obviously you are going to be sitting here for awhile. What do you do?

A. Let him scream. He'll be all right no matter how long you have to wait.

B. Get out, ask people in the vehicles behind you to back up and let you out. By this time there are more than two. Realize this will probably take as long as A.

C. Get out, ask the people in front of you to move so you can get out. Ask the drive thru barista wtf takes so long, you have been waiting for ten minutes. This will also take as long as A.

D. Turn off the engine, get out, take the car seat out, get your baby into your arms and comfort him, just as the cars in front of you start moving. Realize that you're doing this in full view of everyone, and that you are going to be compared to this woman:

E. Nothing, since I wouldn't have taken the chance of getting into this situation in the first place, knowing that Murphy's Law applies when it comes to babies and drive-thru's.

Note: your addiction to caffiene in general and Starbuck's in particular should have no bearing on your answer. Of course it wouldn't for me.

I'll let you know which one I would have done, you know, in case it ever happened to me, in an edit later. Just curious as to what you might think. Thanks for reading!

ETA: I chose D. I just could not stand to hear him crying like that, this little one goes from 0-60 in 2.5 milliseconds. I also thought maybe something had happened to hurt him, although I couldn't imagine what, maybe his leg got jammed somehow in the carseat straps, or a bug or something had gotten into the car and bitten him, just wild things going through my mind that something was wrong. I have gotten lots of advice from many folks since I had them but one thing seems consistent: follow your instincts. If you think something is wrong, check it out and fix it.

When I finally got to the barista window, she said with the ultimate rudeness, "Just so you know, the lady in front of you called 911 because you took your baby out of the carseat." When I told her I did not realize it was going to take 23 minutes (yes I was watching the clock), I would not have pulled in in the first place. She informed me that it was only 8 minutes (it wasn't). I told her with tears in my eyes, that I would not even let my baby scream for 8 minutes. He was sitting happily in my lap and gave her the sweetest look. We pulled immediately into the nearest parking space and I returned him to his seat.

I can see if I drove off into traffic like that. But of course I didn't. I also managed to evade the onslaught of police action, arrest, and subsequent CPS confiscation of my children, since I'm such a horrible mother. It just makes me laugh, if these people only knew how neurotically overprotective I am, they would give me a medal. Thanks for your comments and emails.

I could get used to this

The cuteness Does. Not. Stop.

It just goes on and on.

Plus a tear jerking video

They say the truth will set you free

OK, so my big thing about this donor business is telling the truth. But after today, I think I need to be selective about who I tell the truth TO. It’s actually kind of funny, but I know I need to get used to dealing with shocked people when they realize what I’ve done to become a parent.

Now, I live in a VERY small town. We have one stop sign. Mostly elderly people and commuters, like me. Plus a lot of white trash. Meaning drug dealers and users who are either on welfare or just plain poor. I came from the nearest city, population 300,000, where I still hold a full-time job (if I, in fact, decide to return to work at some point in the future). Needless to say things aren’t too progressive around here. The lady that owns the grocery store is the town gossip. She knows everything that happens here. She’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but has an annoying way of asking very personal questions and so forth in front of perfect strangers, so after awhile I stopped going in there. Besides, the prices are sky high and not the best quality. And she was openly flirting with Jagoff when he was around, it bothered both of us. So we started shopping at the next hitching post up, about 5 miles away. When he was gone, I got tired of her nosiness, so I had not been in there for at least two years.

But when I went in there today, desperate for milk and chocolate (I am a milkoholic and since I had the babes can’t stop eating chocolate), I had assumed she had heard I was pregnant. Few people know, but I’m sure everyone who does is wondering who the father is, especially since JO was very social and knew everyone in town. Well, she was stumbling over herself with questions. When I told her I used a sperm donor to have the babies, she went dead silent. I laugh when I think about the look on her face. She looked at me like I had some horrible contagious disease. "A sperm bank? What is that?" So I had to explain to her what a sperm bank was and she got the most distasteful look on her face. It was obviously grossing her out. People in line were looking down at the floor, at the chip rack, the rows of canned food, anything but me and the twins. It was as if we were contaminating the whole place with uncomfortable-ness. So I just smiled and left. I took my demon spawn and went home to remain isolated from society for the rest of our stay in this Realm of the Dark Ages.

I never even got into the whole egg donor status of my twin’s existence. Boy that would really freak them out. It’s just a shame that, living in California, you would think people would be more open minded and progressive. But there are places in this state where people are as conservative as they come. The Central Valley is redder than any Red State on the map. I guess I should make it my business to educate the judgmental about the details of my unique situation. But frankly, it’s none of their business. I much more prefer those who say congratulations, and offer me a warm handshake, saying they are happy the twins were born healthy.

One thing that keeps me on the humorous side of things is this: I come from a poor family. I am the first to graduate from college, but I live here in my mother’s home (she passed in 99) which is paid for, but yes, it is a trailer in a trailer park. I stay here because I love the country, and the cost is so low it will enable me to stay home with the babies as long as I want. So the joke is: I’ve spent most of my life trying to overcome this Okie stigma I was born into, but...

I had my cousin’s babies and I don’t know who the father is. (Insert laughter here)

I think that’s going to be my line when someone asks me how I got into this situation, especially when it’s none of their business. I love shock value. Thanks for reading.

National Delurking Week

According to Cecily, it's time to come out of the digital closet. I know my loyal followers are few, but I know you're out there from my Sitemeter. Drop me a line! Or, if you don't want to comment, email me. I'm especially interested in hearing from those in my native California, and those interested or involved in donor issues.

I have some pretty sensitive posts coming in the next few months, I know I 've been saying that for awhile, but now I'm getting into the whole world of donor issues. Some really great links over there to the left, and more are coming. Some of my posts will be password-protected, so if you want to read, you should email me for access.

My first question about sperm donors is: Why do they call them donors when these guys are getting $50-100 per money shot, and it cost me $1000 for two vials, which included profiles, pictures, registration, etc.?  My egg donor did not get anything but a trip to California, dinner out, and some homeade gifts. Doesn't the term donor imply that this material is free? I'm just sayin'.

Yes, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my close-up....

Six weeks old!

My pretty little Tori

Dylan reading the stock pages

And a video clip. Dylan is only 2 weeks old in the video. Try to ignore my inane baby talk. My apologies.

Two monkeys

More pics in the link on the left. When I get done burping my boy. I tried my best to get some shots of them smiling, but it's hard to catch. Thanks for reading!

Murphy’s Laws of Twins (Part 1)

The same baby who will not be awakened by his screaming twin inches away will be awakened by a creaking door.

The time interval that both twins are happy and not crying is inversely proportional to the time spent settling them down.

The moment both twins are asleep and you have made yourself comfortable in your own bed is the same moment one begins to cry.

You wonder if someone has put a hit out on the person who was cruel enough to put snaps on a sleeper. You do this wondering at three o clock in the morning when changing a wet baby.

You think that anyone who actually had their twins on the same feeding or sleeping schedule for more than a day is either lying or illegally drugging one of their babies.

You still type with and surf the net with one hand, but not for the same reason you used to before you had twins.

For boy/girl twins, you know you have gotten over the new parent phase when you dress your boy in pink or something with flowers on it, or swaddle your girl in a blue receiving blanket with footballs on it.

You can burp one while feeding the other.

The only thing more beautiful than watching one sleeping is watching both sleeping. Or smiling.

You wonder why someone hasn’t invented a double sling or carrier. Or if they have, why you don’t have one.

Holding two calm babies at the same time is so heavenly. Holding two squirming babies at the same time requires a serious learning curve.

Your arms are getting a workout that never happened when you went to the gym. Lifting babies and carriers times two has toned them quite nicely.

You're already mixing up thier names and they are only five weeks old.

Two words: frozen dinners.

You wonder what they are saying to each other as they lie together in their crib face to face cooing.

To be continued....

Waiting for the other shoe to drop

I don’t get it. This is easy. Everyone and everything I’ve read has told me I should be extremely stressed by now. That I should be crazy from lack of sleep and tearing my hair out from all the crying. But I feel great. Compared to the pregnancy and the c-section, this is a breeze.

The worst stress I’ve ever gone through is my junior year in college. My car was not running, and I had been riding my bike for about a year. I was working part time, and carrying 16 units. I rode my bike round trip 10 miles a day to school and work in freezing weather, chasing buses (this is where you wait for a bus that has bike racks, and if the racks are full, you chase it to the next stop praying that someone will get off). I was very broke, and living on coffee, top ramen, popcorn, and fruit I stole from the campus cafeteria. JO was of some help, when he was not being a drunken, jealous freak. Finals weeks was the deepest hell I’ve ever experienced, and I still managed to pull off a 3. 2 for that semester. Caring for two infants is Disneyland compared to that.

I guess it’s because this is all I have to do. I have the house organized in such a way that if I keep everything in its place, things run pretty smoothly. It is not spotless, and that’s fine. I don’t have other children to care for, or have to cook dinner for my husband. I have not had a lot of visitors, just a few neighbors and my landlady, and other than a friend going with me to the Dr. for my two week checkup, have had no help at all since I got home from the hospital.

I couldn’t be happier. I sleep when they sleep, and when they nap, I clean, shower, eat, blog, talk on the phone, and seem to be adjusting nicely. I see or talk to someone every day, put on makeup, and am feeling better and better.

I don’t get upset when they are both crying at the same time. I simply change, swaddle, and get one set up feeding, then take care of the other. Maybe because these two are my first, it just does not seem as overwhelming as everyone says. No singleton to compare having two with. Maybe because I’m older, and more patient. People ask, "You have help, right?" I always say yes. But I have not accepted any help, though many friends have offered, and I already have two nannies I’ve interviewed and reference-checked who are available almost anytime (I can’t really afford them anyway). I think this is one of the reasons I was so stressed during the pregnancy. I was told it would be worse once they got here. But it’s not. It’s better. I get to play with them, sing to them, hold them, and watch them while they are sleeping. I do cry, but now it’s from joy and pure amazement. They are just so fascinating. When I was still in the hospital, Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer came on and I started crying thinking, now I get to watch all those Christmas specials!! How sweet.

Yes some of it has been stressful. But believe me, the pregnancy was much worse. I simply did not have the energy to do anything, and now that energy is coming back. I sleep about 10 hours a day, and granted, I am not getting that deep sleep since it’s only two hours at a time, I feel better than when I was carrying them, exhausted, fighting heartburn and extreme itching. I am getting much more and better sleep now. And my hormones seem to be stabilizing somewhat.

We travel well. We have already been to the pediatrician, the mall for Christmas pictures, the grocery store, and by my office and to friends and family visiting, including C who came for a Christmas visit, and of course, fell in love. I think from all those years of field work handling the logistics of getting around with twins is manageable. It’s the attention they attract. That’s what will take some adjusting to.

Seriously, the worst thing has been a lot of back pain since I can’t yet stand up straight and strange right shoulder pain I can’t figure out. And of course my c-section incision. That and I was pretty upset about not being able to nurse, but I’m already over that. It only means I can have coffee every day now ;-)

We have our own little world up here. It’s all very cozy, we had the tree up and the stockings hung. My cats are happy with the whole situation, Spooky being a little curious and jealous at first, but now is accepting. She even cries when they cry as if to say, "Help them! Something’s wrong!" It’s all very sweet.

So all that stress during pregnancy was wasted. That’s when I really needed help, not now. Just getting from the couch to the bed was a chore, much less grocery shopping. Now I have enough energy to manage them both and groceries too. My arms are really getting pumped. Hm. Interesting.

So...am I missing something, or is it just that I’m too happy to be stressed? Thanks for reading.

Squeak the Black Hole and Lips the Grumpy Old Man

Today is my due date and the twins are 9 days old. We’re all settling in for the winter, and now that I’m adjusting nicely, I’m ready to start blogging again. I guess I should start with the birth story.

I had a pretty hard time of it, but I’m still not sure if I really had it hard or if I’m just a sissy. I ended up making it to my scheduled date of December 1^st, at 38w5d, only to find out I needed a general anesthesia, rather than a spinal because of a lovely blood disorder we have in our family. I was a little nervous about that and a little disappointed too about not being able to see them born, but whatever we had to do, we had to do. I was shaking so bad by the time we got into the OR and T took a pic of me spread eagled out like I was about to be crucified. It is a really strange picture.

When I awoke, I saw my babies for the first time and my boy had the most hilarious look on his face. It was as though he were thinking, "Wait a minute, this is not the virtual reality I ordered, something’s wrong!" He furrowed his brow and looked a little pissed off. Then the rest of that day is just a blur of pain.

Now pain is something I thought I had come to terms with, since tearing ligaments in both my hip joints 18 years ago. It has been so bad that I can’t walk at times, and I thought that was the worst I would ever know. I thought childbirth would be a breeze after going through dozens of spasms of my hip muscles every year. So I know what excruciating is.

I now know the true meaning of the word agonizing. I’m not sure what they gave me that first day, but I do not remember much. I know that T and a friend, M, were there to take care of the babies, because I could not form sentences much less get up. I am very grateful for that. I had no idea. Some things I read said, Oh, sure, I was up and out of bed that same day! Fuckers.

I was in the hospital for five days, and from what I understand, I did pretty well, and man these kids are pretty. In spite of the pain, I am having blast with these kids. Nursing has also been extremely painful, not because of the babies, but because of me. My tolerance for pain just is not there. My poor breasts are so tender there just is no way to get them comfortably latched, although I have been pumping and they are getting a little breast milk every day. But even pumping hurts like hell.

Which leads me to introduce the babies: Grace Toreen, who has come to be known as Squeak, because she makes the cutest little noises and sounds just like a little kitten.

She also has a suck reflex like a black hole. Anything that comes near her mouth, whether it’s her own fist, a bottle, a pacifier, or my nipple, gets immediately sucked into an alternate universe. I’m telling you, that first nursing session I thought my entire breast was gone, she sucked so hard. When she eats, she acts like she’s starving, which makes for some interesting feeding sessions since her little head is tiny and she is very petite, so if I don’t hold her head just right, milk spews out of her nose and then we have a bit of trauma.

Then we have Lips. This pretty boy has a set of lips that rival Mick Jagger and would make a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon blush.

These definitely came from the sperm donor, as C has a pretty mouth, it is nothing like this. But he definitely has our eyes. This child should be on the cover of Vogue. He’s definitely the fussier of the two, and opposed to his sister, I have to practically force him to eat. He makes the most amusing faces, and furrows his brow just like he did right after birth, with an incredulous look, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. I’ve caught him smiling a few times, although all the websites say it’s too early for it to be an emotional response. Like any new mother , I think, bull. He loves me, that’s why he’s smiling.

I have a few posts brewing about donor issues I’ve already faced, and the celebrity that comes with having twins. But right now Lips is being Fussy Britches, so I will be back in a few days. I promise I won’t go so long between posts now that I’m functional. Thanks for reading. BTW thier vitals: Tori, 6 lbs, 3 oz, 20 in.  Dylan, 6 lbs 0 oz, 20 in.

Still alive but not kicking

I know it’s been forever, and I am so sorry for those of you who keep checking to see if I’m still alive. Yes! And the twins are doing great. The truth is, I simply have not felt like blogging, or doing much of anything else, for that matter. I just don’t like bring everyone down with my tales of woe, my allergies (still awful), my exhaustion (still fighting just to get up every day) and my general snarkiness (well, it IS much worse than normal).

The good news is the twins are doing great, they are both well over 4 pounds now at 33 weeks, and since they are both heads down now, I am going to try to deliver them vaginally. Dr. Love does not know this yet, but we’ll see how things go.

I have also been enjoying the classes, and am off work now completely. But my house still looks like a tornado hit it and I am far from being ready for two babies. I really, really hope they stay in there another month, as opposed to another week. But I still have the shower on the 4^th, and I think we’ll be okay.

The really bad news is that my job situation is still very much up in the air, and my employer is resisting the three day a week thing. My consulting idea is unlikely to pan out into a reliable income, and I cringe when I think of leaving my children for sixty hours a week. So as of today I have no idea whatsoever what things will be like on February 1^st.

I will do my best to keep you all posted. The next few weeks and months are going to be quite insane. Thanks for reading.

Someone please have a beer for me

This is one of the last really hot dry days when a cold one is perfect. I guess lemonade will have to do for now.

There is a God. Dr. Love is letting me work part time for the next month, then I am off until January!!! Which is so unbelievably awesome, since nine hours of sleep a night just isn’t cutting it, it seems the monkeys need at least 10-12 a day. So…..three days a week, then nest , nest, nest!!

My blood pressure has been slowly creeping up, so now I get to enjoy bland vegetables and a salt-free existence for the rest of my pregnancy. Because of my twin status and my age, I am at risk for pre-eclampsia, and after reading Cecily’s heartbreaking story last year, I am willing to eat straight tofu if needed. We DO NOT want preemies, well, a few weeks might be okay, but NOT a few months.

So, fall is on its way, and I am coming into the home stretch. My weight is good, the babies are the perfect size and growing beautifully, and other than the BP issues, Dr. Love has pronounced my pregnancy “a model twin pregnancy.” I have this really weird feeling now: oh, could it be….happiness?

The ultrasound pictures did not come out that great, but I will post them this weekend when I get my scanner up and running, I forgot to do it last night at T’s. I have more to post, but am now at work so I’ll update you this weekend. Oh, and my allergies are still bothering me, but not quite as bad as they were last post.  Thanks for reading!

Doesn't add up

5 - Number of years since US attacked by terrorists

2985 - Number of innocent Americans killed on 9-11-01

2666 - Number of US service men and women killed in combat for "Operation Iraqi Freedom"

2529 - Number of US service men and women killed since "Mission Acomplished"

46318 - Number of innocent Iraqi civilians killed during "Operation Iraqi Freedom"

1 - Number of assclowns still alive, well, and on the loose

Or....is it 2?

I'm just sayin'.

Time to hoist the black flag.

I have a Paul Pennington screensaver, which is a great collection of wonderful quotes from famous and not-so famous people. One of my favorites is: (author unknown)

“There comes a time in everyone’s life when they must spit upon their hands, hoist the black flag, and start slitting throats.”

My interpretation of this is that once all your reasonable solutions to a problem have been exhausted, it is time to get down to the shit. Get what you want by whatever means necessary. A good time to use the phrase, “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” I think I can be considered an expert here, since I did something that probably most people would not have done: double donor IVF. But now that I’m pregnant, I have another serious problem that I can’t seem to solve which is robbing me of truly enjoying this amazing time:

My freaking allergies.

My head is a continuous pounding of sinus pressure;
I have sneeze attacks that leave me useless for an hour or more;
I’m so exhausted I can hardly function (yes I know I’m expecting twins, but come on, I only have one good day in ten anymore);
I’m very, very, irritable, weepy, and generally unpleasant to be around.
I can’t get off the caffeine, because without it, I am unable to function. But I need to stop it.

The nasocort that was prescribed does not have a formulary generic (I just learned what that means). So it costs $45, which I’m trying to understand, and don’t want to pay, but may have to.

This has got to stop. So the search for the perfect medication begins. Automatic voice mail systems will be overridden. Pharmacy technicians will get the glare of death. Medical assistants will be inconvenienced, threatened, and maybe even yelled at. Dollars that don’t exist yet will be spent. Believe me, I would just love to quit my job and stay in bed for the next three months. But somehow that does not seem like something that would be good for the babies. Any ideas appreciated. I still need to try the neti pot that Moxie recommended. And no it’s not an “herb” like I thought it might be.

Time to hoist the black flag.

Miracle monkeys!

23 week update!! The stars of the show:

Just look at that adorable face. I am in LOVE.

Quite the gifted little fellow. Hmm he's going to very popular!

Pretty little girl

Now, we're really going to have to teach this girl some modesty or she's going to be more popular than her brother!

Now here she's pointing up at my belly button. Not really giving us the finger...

This pic bugs the hell out of me. I can't figure out if she's looking straight at me or off to the side a little.

As for me, I'm measuring 28 weeks. Getting big. And feeling awful. Just can't seem to get my allergies under control. So we're going to try some meds that are safe and see what happens. Soon I will be seeing Dr.Love every two weeks. The babies were both 1 lb. 5 ounces. They are expected to double thier weight and size in the next four weeks. HOLY CATS!! And about not feeling enough movement, the placenta is covering the whole top of my uterus, so I can't feel the girl at all. But they boy's feet are low, and I love it when he kicks me. Getting very excited!! Oh, and I bought a new twin stroller. Starting to get everything ready....!!!!!!!

HAND OVER THE CHOCOLATE AND NO ONE GETS HURT

Well, we’re back to the caffeine trauma again. I started with one cup of tea a day at about 14 weeks, and now am up to three cups of coffee a day, plus some form of chocolate at least three times a week. I really want to cut it out again and get the babies caffeine free by 24-25 weeks. My maternity leave does not start until 32 weeks, and let me tell you, I really have become dependent on caffeine at 5:00 am every morning. How the hell I’m going to make it through the day without falling asleep is going to be interesting. I already do the nap thing at lunch most days. It’s just not enough. After sleeping nine hours. Although on weekends, I usually sleep up to twelve hours a day. I mean SLEEP.

Thinking about this led me to come up with the following lists:

Ten great things about being pregnant:

1. Not worried about dieting. Enjoying Kentucky Fried Chicken once a week.
2. Heartbeat monitors and ultrasounds.
3. I get to be cute and buy cute stuff, which is really not my style but it’s fun now.
4. When I get caught talking to myself, I just point to my belly and say “conference call.”
5. It’s temporary.
6. My hair and skin look better than they have in years. In fact, it’s hilarious flirting with some guy who stares at me while I’m driving. I just want to pull into a parking lot, get out with my huge belly, and offer him my phone number.
7. Not having to be depressed about infertility ever again.
8. Sleep. The next time I’ll get to sleep like this is when I’m dead.
9. Feeling like I’m part of an exclusive club that I was denied membership to for years. It’s like all of a sudden I don’t have to sit at the back of the bus anymore.
10. Knowing two angels will be with me at the end of all this. Fantasizing about all the fun we’re going to have.

Ten crappy things about being pregnant:

1. Sheer terror.
2. New and interesting bodily functions as my organs get smashed into my spine.
3. Not being able to do anything about my allergies.
4. Gut-wrenching crying spells because I can’t get a package open, can’t find my chap stick or am so exhausted I can’t even fix dinner.
5. Having someone who’s support and caring you never questioned suddenly vanish and won’t even talk to you anymore (you know who you are).
6. Sheer terror. Oh. I already said that.
7. Counting the days, hours and minutes until you go on maternity leave.
8. Not being able to eat salmon because I can’t find the Alaskan wild, which is supposed to be the lowest mercury-laden kind, or a rare steak because of toxoplasmosis.
9. Drinking so much milk I’m considering buying my own cow. I’m sure it’s not helping the allergy situation, but I can’t bring myself to stop. I am starving 24/7.
10. Being closer to God, but only because I beg Him to stop me from murdering this assclown in front of me driving 37 miles per hour all the way to town.

So, things are great and they are sucky too. I am SOOO glad I never have to do this again. But I’m grateful I finally get to experience it. To be honest with you, other than knowing the details of this prenatal experience, as opposed to not knowing, as in adoption, I really did not feel cheated about missing out on a pregnancy. Every mother I know has told me it was totally overrated. I do enjoy feeling the babies move, when they do, which is not much yet, and I’m pretty upset about that. I hope to find on the 16^th that they are just in weird positions or something and not too small or have something wrong with them that they are not moving enough. Everything I’ve read tells me they should be doing calisthenics by now. I just get a strange pain now and then. Although I did feel what I thought might be a whole baby somersaulting last night while lying on my side. So I think we’re okay. Plus the Doppler tells me their heartbeats are strong and it fades in and out, so I know they are floating and moving around.

Oh, and one more great thing about being pregnant: exposing my kids to the joys of classic rock while their ears are still developing. I can see their little eyes rolling already.

Hilarious

"What my future would be without children."

The great stretch mark controversy

Well, it hasn’t happened yet. Here’s proof:

But we are only at 21 weeks, now. Here’s what I looked like at 14 weeks:

I have been faithfully using the Palmer’s cocoa butter for stretch marks twice a day since about then. I put it on after I listen to the babies’ heartbeats, which I have been using aloe vera gel to conduct the Doppler with. So, between the cocoa butter and the aloe vera, we are hoping, hoping, hoping, that these nasty things will not show up.

Although I have been told on the Net and in person, that it may not make a snip of difference. Some have said that it’s all genetic, which would be bad, since Mom had plenty. However, she was a redhead with possibly the fairest skin I have ever seen. T, on the other hand, has had none with three singleton pregnancies, after using the Palmer’s. My niece, at 19, many, many, many. So I’m really starting to think it’s a crapshoot.

I still feel like I have a nice layer of fat between my skin and my ever stretching uterus, but I have this sinking feeling that’s about to change abruptly. The babies weigh less than a pound apiece right now, and they are expected to reach SIX pounds apiece. Does this mean I am going to be six times bigger? Holy cats. I guess all I can do is hope.

When I was a teen, I was very skinny with no breasts until the summer I turned 15, then within a matter of weeks I had hips and breasts. I still have stretch marks on my hips from that event. But my pretty belly! Still pristine, unless you count the appendectomy scar. I also have to face the fact that I may have a nice C-section scar as well. But one body beauty issue trauma at a time.

I hope to keep up the belly shots from now on for you to gloat at my soon to be enormous size. Glad I’m only doing this once! Thanks for reading.

At long last

When you long for a child for years and years, you dream of the day you will first see that child's face. For Karen, that day is today. Congratulations Karen, RG and Maya!

The story of the booties

Once upon a time, when I was still trying to get pregnant with my own eggs, I did a survey on the message boards about the crazy and insane things we have done while trying to conceive. The gist of it went something like this:

Silliest and craziest things we've done when ttc........

2nd IUI with injectables in August
Friday, 25 June 2004, at 11:19 AM

Just for fun. Of course some of us have gone to the very extreme (second mortgaging our homes, painful surgery, etc.)I got to thinking about some of the funniest things I have done and how much I made my friend laugh when I told her... 1. Stood on my head after sex while DH is thinking I have lost my mind....... 2. Sent away for fertility goddesses on ebay.... 3. Actually planned a trip to Southern CA to touch the Ripley's Believe it or not fertility statues and then practically had a breakdown when I ended up having to work......... 4.Used real egg whites without DH knowing because I knew it would freak him out (also drive 85 miles to get "free range" eggs so I reduced my chances of getting salmonella)....... 5. Became obsessed with fertility feng shui and spent a small fortune on Chinese items and semi-remodeling the house...... 6. Researched and used just about every herb imaginable, including "dong quai" and that name cracks me up still........ 7. Had prayer and meditation sessions over my opk's and hpt's, and even my thermometer! 8. Massaged my pregnant friends belly, hoping the pregnancy vibes would rub off on me.... I could go on and on........ Some things from the other ladies In Response To: Silliest and craziest things we've done when ttc........ Here are some things I have done that I can think of: 1. Refusing to buy sanitary products until it is absolutely necessary. Bad luck??? Hopefully, I won't need them for 9 months! 2. Drawing slips of paper from a bag to see how many times 1 in 20 will hit (as I have read my chance of pg is (at the worst, mind you). Like a lottery! This is paranoia, I know. 3. Yelling at dh to "hurry it up" during bd when we were using Preseed. Instructions say to have intercourse within 15 min. after insertion. Me barking orders like that really "kills the moment". 4. I've become an expert at Beta numbers, and have developed my own chart of average Betas from the IVF board (where you really know how many dpo you are). BTW, it's not supposed to be good to stand on your head after sex, because then the semen pools around the uterus. Just elevate your hips slightly. I laughed at your revelations (with you, not at you.) Thanks for the idea! In Response To: Silliest and craziest things we've done when ttc........ 1. No matter how long you have waited to check, no -- HPT is 100%. I dug MANY HPTs out of the trash later for "just another look". My first HPT (at 10 dpo) with Matthew was negative, but showed a slight + an hour later when I took that second look. 2. I'm a hip raiser, too. The night Matthew was conceived, I kept my hips elevated until my legs almost went numb. 3. I was an herb-taker too. I swore by Vitex, and I used EPO but only for a few days at a time. Momma Kath used to laugh at me because I once told her that after two days of EPO, I had TONS of EWCM and I had mucous coming out of every oriface of my body! 4. COSMO!!!! I was of the belief that "great BD" could do the trick. Cosmo always seemed to have an article on the Kama Sutra or other exotic ideas. Changes of place and trying new things worked for me. But even in the months I faced that -- HPT, at least they kept the dancing from being mechanical and stressful. It's nice to know that everyone has her own little superstitions and "lucky tricks". I think that TTCing long enough without them would drive anyone crazy. To this day I don't know if any of these things really helped me, but at the time I sure thought they did. And the psychological factor can't be overlooked. But, no matter what "tools" you choose to help you through, try to stay focused on the love you want to share that brought you into this journey. Remember, you and your DH entered this together, and finding ways together to stay strong and loving is the only way to reach your goal--no matter what path to prenthood you end up following. May God Bless you all and bring you and your babies (whether you share DNA or not) together. In Response To: (2nd IUI with injectables in August) Silliest and craziest things we've done when ttc........ 1) have an african fertility goddess pendant that I wore for all my fertility treatments 2) lay with my legs up against the wall more than once (now I only use a pillow) 3) "talked" to DH's boys to meet my girl 4) I even got my mom in Canada obsessed, every year she goes to various religious sanctuaries and prays for us 5) didn't buy new clothes for the longest time, cause I would need maternity clothes (now I just need bigger clothes cause I gained weight from all the depression!) the list goes on and on and on I never took herbal products because DP is a chemist and he wanted a tried-and-true scientific protocol with the herbs but we were never able to find on. Never used egg whites either because of a long history of yeast infections. The things we do.... Some ladies on the other boards mentioned interesing things too, like witchcraft, for instance. I just thought it was interesting. One thing I did end up doing for the fertility feng shui exercise was to purchase a pair of booties, and place them in the west area of the bedroom, this of course after I had moved the bed and half the furniture according tot he proper feng shui protocol. At this time I had only one insemination under my belt, and was still feeling quite fertile. Although I recall it was a strange feeling going into the baby department to get the booties. I had up until this point, avoided the baby section of all stores, because as any infertile worth her salt knows, it can bring on fits of depression worthy of a suicide attempt, if enough vodka is applied. All the cute little dresses, the bottles, the pinks and the blues. But I was desperate for the booties, because I was convinced it would work. One thing I was not prepared for, although of course it makes perfect sense: There were CHILDREN in the baby and children’s section. There were also PREGNANT women. I was totally unprepared for this. It really threw me. It was a little difficult. Being around children and expectant mothers is hard for someone who wants a child so badly. That was the beginning of the feeling of real despair. But I got the booties. I placed them in the west window of the bedroom, as instructed. And proceeded to time sex, inject myself, and spend a small fortune on inseminations. All for naught. After the eviction of JO, I kept the booties with me. I explored embryo adoption, traditional adoption, and the thought of childfree living.  I kept them through my decision to use donor eggs and sperm, through the ten thousand dollars I borrowed, through the procedure and success milestones. They now proudly hang from my rear view mirror, a testament to my struggle. And there they will stay until they are on the feet of my children. Thanks for reading.

Just a sunny California day (or, a day in the life of a pregnant heatwave mood swing)

5 am: get up feeling relatively good despite the power outage the previous night at 8pm, when the temperature had dropped to 106.

6:30 am: Drive to work, feeling the best you have felt in days, and actually make it to the office without an upsetting incident (like some bluehair driving 30mph in front of you all the way or losing your chapstick-trust me- a REAL tragedy)

8 am- have the first of a series of sneeze attacks, despite the clariton or sinus infection antibiotic. Get po'd because it has something to do with the "unhealthy" air quality designation of the day.

9 am- laugh hysterically when you hear that it's already 96 degrees and that a high of 113 is expected.

10 am- have a nice long chat with a fellow expectant mother, discuss everything from strollers to kicking to daycare.

10:32 - feel blood sugar dropping rapidly as you realize you skipped your 10am feeding.
10:35 - excuse yourself from the aforementioned conversation and retire to the ladies room for a 10-minute crying jag.
10:45 - make the mental connection between skipping a two-hour feeding and crying jag.

11:00 am- continue sorting forms, the most complicated thing you can manage after blood sugar drop, your crying jag,and subsequent face stuffing of Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies and a quart of milk.

11:45 am- start car and get air conditioner going for the trip to lunch.

12:00 pm- go to lunch, have another sneeze attack and watery eyes the moment you walk out into 110 degree oven, complete with smog so thick you can chew it.

2:30 pm- think you feel the babies kicking, and get excited, then wonder if that's what it really is, so start crying again.

3:30 pm - fall asleep at my desk, to be awakened by sweat dripping down my forehead.

4:30 pm- leave the office and go grocery shopping, where you buy 15 frozen dinners since you have taken a vow to not cook anything again till the babies are in junior high.

6:00 pm- arrive home and are now actually able to breathe since you are 1800 feet above the valley smog.

6:03 pm - rejoice and give thanks to God that you left your cooler on all day despite years of being "environmentally correct."

6:10 pm - feel incredibly guilty while lying under cooler eating ice cream, while listening to news reports about record temperatures and rolling blackouts throughout California, and power companies asking consumers to please turn thier coolers off, for Gods sake people are dying from the heat.

8:45 pm - fall asleep while babies are kicking, smiling, while knowing that's really what I'm feeling.

I should join psychic friends network

A boy and a girl. One of each. I was right. Not about their positions, tho. Holy cats. This is so awesome. Now I can keep all those baby clothes I've been buying. Wow. I don't know what to say, or what to post. I guess I'll post more when I let this sink in. WOW!!!!

Baby boy face.

Baby boy showing his stuff!!

Girl in a very unladylike pose!

Ha. I'm just dumbstruck. What luck, good fortune, positive karma, blessing! Post more later.

The good, the bad and the ugly

Okay. The extreme fatigue is not going away. Neither are the emotional highs and lows. I thought I was adjusting, but now things are taking off in a way that makes me want to slow things down.

The good news is, these babies are really starting to become more and more real to me. So much so that I usually wish they were just here already. Why does this have to take so long? I still have not felt any kicks. But I find myself fantasizing about what they look like, playing with them, the birth. I'm so excited to hopefully find out I'm having boy/girl twins. Sometimes I feel so much joy I can almost forget what's about to happen to me.

The bad news is that I keep having panic attacks, I am so exhausted I can barely make it through a day at work, and every day I have crying jags that leave me drained. My sleep patterns are all over the map, preparation for things to come? I feel scared that something is wrong, they are too small, that I'm really depessed, that I'm going to battle post partum, up here in the foothills all alone with two babies. So scared that I'm not eating well enough, or something.

The ugly is that, well, speaking of fantasizing, the sex drive is completely out of control. Maybe TMI, but my God. If there were a man around he would be permanently chained to the bed naked 24-7. What is a single girl to do? Not an easy question to answer. I know my hormones are off the charts, but the question is, is this going to keep getting worse? It seems so. Nice.

Geez, I might as well start the countdown. We are sitting at 17w4d. Next appointment is not for another week and a half. By that time we will be halfway there. I'm getting bigger, last week I really popped out there. I just wish I weren't so bone-tired, and having these gut-wrenching crying spells. I still have a lot to do. I just don't have the energy to do anything but lie here, listen to thier hearts beating, and pray I live until November 26. Sorry I have been so out of touch. I'm trying to keep it together. Thanks for reading.

Brokenhearted

I'm okay.  Me and the babes are fine. But a lovely lady here at work lost her baby last week, and I just found out. She is 43, and even though it was an “oops” baby, her and her hubby were just starting to get excited about it. I feel so bad, I didn’t even know and just burst into her office asking how she was feeling. I cried for an hour. God, what an awful thing to go through. She was 15 weeks, too.

Man this sucks. Now I’m worried all over again. After feeling confident enough to have a glass of tea every day, and I’ve started buying baby clothes. Now paranoia has set in again. I know my odds of loss are much lower than hers, being my donor is only 31. But still, it seems if it was something genetic, she would have lost it before 12 weeks.

I’m not panicking or anything. I just wish my next appointment wasn’t so far away (3 weeks). Some days I feel huge, and others just a little overweight. Someone told me today I looked skinny (from the back!). I just wish they would start moving. I can hear them on Doppler, but I wish I knew how big they were or that they were swimming around in there. I know they are, I’m just po’d because I was feeling so good there for awhile.

She has the same name as C. It sucks that I don’t know what to say to someone that’s had a loss. Especially since I’ve had two of my own. It’s because I know there is nothing that you can say. Except that I’m so, so sorry.

Bittersweet

I haven’t talked much here about the relationships (if you can call them that) with some of the men I’ve been involved with in the last 25 years, and how it is that here I am, on my own, having a family. I did joke about it at the start of this blog, and much of that was tongue in cheek, but true nevertheless. I’ve had three major relationships in that time, two with hopeless, self-centered narcissists, and the one I actually married (that was almost 20 years ago), who truly would have been a great father, except for the fact that he was/is a meth addict, and was/is unable to get or keep a job. It really pisses me off that I did everything in my power to make these men happy, but all they did was wallow in the mess they’d made of their own lives. Two years ago I made the decision to go forward on my own, and the strange thing is that when was in my 20’s I always had the unsettling feeling that I would be doing this alone.

I’ve always taken pride in the fact that I’m fairly intelligent, but when it comes to love I have an idiot’s heart. For some strange reason I think that some fool on a barstool is going to be the love of my life. The one I almost married, I was with for eight years. He will, from this point forward, be known as Jagoff, or J.O. for short.

I was 32 when I met J.O. and hadn’t been sober for about two years. Needless to say my judgment was a little off. We spent a couple of tumultuous years, then I ended it, for the sixteenth thousandth time, only to find myself pregnant at 35. We got back together, and three days later, the morning he screamed at me when I asked him to go to the doctor with me, (he had/has a little temper issue, as we will explore) I miscarried baby #1.

Now, up until that point I had not used any birth control with JO. We had been together for three years, and done a lot of drinking in that time. I realized that I needed to quit drinking and get back to school, and had been sober, by the time I became pregnant, for nine months. I guess the universe or God decided if I could do it for nine months, then I was allowed to get pregnant. I wasn’t trying. But I wasn’t using any birth control either. I often wondered if there were something wrong, but lack of health insurance, plus the consistent assurance from EVERY woman I knew that I had “plenty of time to have children, even well into your forties” made me feel that I did not have anything to worry about.

So this pregnancy, and loss, led to my staying with this freakshow for five more years, trying for a baby. By the time I finished college and got myself a nice job with great health insurance benefits, I was 38. The first three RE’s I saw all said, “you have ovulation problems, low progesterone, and oh, by the way, you’re getting too old to have any good quality eggs. You should have been in here 10 years ago.” Huh? I was told I could have kids until I was, like, 49-50! This event in my life has led me to never take advice from anyone, check it out for yourself before you base major life decisions on someone’s opinion who has no idea what they are talking about. Now I know plenty of women who get pregnant and have healthy kids well into their forties. But I’m convinced that my eggs aged prematurely, and there is no question in my mind that this fact is directly related to years of heavy smoking and drinking. I just never made the connection that the health of my eggs was at stake.

So then the temperature taking, the sex timing, the ovulation kits, the message boards, and Clomid. Ah, loved the Clomid. And got pregnant again. But didn’t KNOW I was pregnant, assumed I was not after negative hpt’s, until I helped T move. And in the midst of moving heavy furniture, had stabbing pain in my gut and passed the hugest clots I’ve ever seen. The next morning went to the RE’s and got a beta, which confirmed I had indeed, been pregnant. So miscarriage #2. Also JO’s.

By this time I was beginning to realize that not only was there a pretty big possibility that I may never have children, but that the entity (not sure I can really call him a person) I was sharing my life with was completely devoid of any sympathy toward me regarding this realization. It was almost as if he was afraid to talk about it. He did want kids, that I was sure of. Being nine years older than me, loved children, and despite his horrible temper, was actually a pretty great guy most of the time. But when it came to supporting me through my infertility struggle, he was a piece of shit. Now I realize he just didn’t know what to do or say. But the message boards and blogs are what eventually killed it for me. It was awful to read about all these women who were struggling with infertility too, but had loving, kind, sympathetic husbands who were there for them when they got a negative beta, when the doctor had yet more bad news about their reproductive system, when they had a loss. My partner got pissed off because he couldn’t have sex every day so he could keep his sperm count up. He took it personally when my breasts were sore from medication. And the mood swings, forget it. I had to pretend and do the Pollyanna dance to keep his temper at bay. And cried myself to sleep alone for a thousand nights, because he just didn’t care. All for his child.

The final final was pretty much about donor eggs. He simply refused to discuss it. By this time we were engaged, and doing injections and inseminations. For him, the horror of having to produce a sample was the end of all tortures. He simply did not have what it takes to get through an IVF, and then add to it the donor issues I am now facing. He was much too weak for that. So that was the end for me. Shortly after my 40^th birthday it was over and I knew I would never take him back. That was two years ago, and here I am.

I’m still getting over the bitterness and the sorrow of not having a loving man to share this joy and excitement with, and having to raise these kids on my own. It hurts sometimes when feel lonely. But I thank God every day that my kids are not his. I never want them to hurt like I did and to have to live with a maniac like him. And although I’ve forgiven him, simply for my own spiritual peace, I do feel a sense of sweet reward now that I am going to be a mother after all.

My message to him is this: it doesn’t matter what you’ve done with your life, whether you are happy or not, whether you have love in your life or not. It does not matter to me at all. Because I’ve got mine. And nothing can change that now.

Happy Days

I have said that I’m feeling better and better, but every once in awhile I still get an awful row of days. Like right now for instance. My allergies are driving me nuts, and my exhaustion has been back for the last two days, really teeing me off. Plus the hormones or SOMETHING is making me blubber like a three year old. I’m not kidding, each day I find myself in tears over something really stupid. On the days I feel great, nothing can get me down. I want more days like this.

So anyhow, a couple of really great things have happened: Cecily has had her baby, which you may already know about, but I tell you, it really helps to hear her say that all this crap is worth it. REALLY love what she named her baby (hmm I wonder why). And just think, I get a double dose of joy. About time if you ask me. Also, a lovely lady on my message board is finally pregnant with twins after EIGHT losses. She’s 8w1d and I really think both of hers are going to make it. I just cry a river when I read stories like this, are you guys tearing up too with joy and happiness for me? (Especially those of you who are pregnant?)

I really appreciate the comments on my last post, it really means a lot to get that kind of support. I truly could give a jack’s ass about what anyone thinks, and actually look forward to hauling someone’s ass into court if they give me any shit. A little snarky today, are we? YES WE ARE. Anyway, you guys are the best, it really makes me feel good to know people admire me out there. Sometimes I do get sad when I think about my children not having a father. But I’d rather they had none than some loser asshole who made them feel like a burden. I’m certainly not opposed to marriage, but you better believe it will be with someone who wants them as much as I do.

I’ve made a deal with myself to spend more time on this blog talking about the unique issues I’m facing. I have been so caught up in my pregnancy and the hell these last few months have been. Although I keep hearing I got off easy. I haven’t actually tossed my cookies yet (knock on wood), but the exhaustion, allergies, and bullshit over missing time at work has been a drag. I think it’s almost over. So you guys can look forward to better posts and hopefully some exciting info re: baby genders and movement in the next month or two. Please comment! I promise I’ll be better at responding. Thanks for reading.

Let the judging begin………

I was warned not to post this. But I’m doing it anyway. When I first started down this path, I knew there would be many times others would judge me for using donors. This has happened now of the first time. I’m not too upset about it, but one person happens to be my boss, among others. So I have to be very careful how I handle it. The funny thing about it is that he does not know I used an egg donor, only sperm, and therefore my children do not have a father. Unless he reads this blog and has put two and two together (get it? two and two!).

I tell you, I’m really no that upset. I just worry about people who judge others, and I’m sure I’m guilty of this too on some level. I just believe in karma so strongly (is that a word?) that I fear they will be judged the same way times three. I know it all comes back to you. And that’s a shame.

The really awesome thing is that over a dozen people have approached me and told me I’ve got Moxie. Guts. Gumption. Balls. Well. Maybe not those. But you get the picture. I’m not sure it’s possible to care less about the judgers. But it sure is nice to be noticed for my efforts and say to hell with society and its rules. It’s the 21^st century for cat’s sake, people! Get out of the dark ages! I still say I am lucky to be born in a country where I can do this without being totally ostracized. But you can be sure there are plenty of people who have something to say about it.

I am sorry that my decision is making some people uncomfortable. I wish they would come to me and talk about it. But I know that will never happen. It’s okay. Like I’ve always said, you always find out who your friends really are when going through extreme times. I mean, it’s not like I’m going around the office shouting that I used the best-looking, MBA-holding donor available. But I do need to realize that this is only the beginning; there will be times when my children will have to face this kind of bullshit. Which REALLY makes me want to move from this very conservative place to one where people don’t live in a little box where you’re not allowed to color outside of the lines.

Ok, rant over. For now. We are definitely going to explore this subject much more in the months to come. I am feeling great, still have a little insomnia, but nausea is gone and Dr. Love announced I am doing great other that gaining a few pounds too fast. I think I can get this under control now, since I am swimming again. The babies are great, sorry no pics this time. Please post about your ideas on this subject, being judged that is. Thanks for reading.

Okay, last of the pictures for awhile

Baby A vitals:

CRL=5.54 cm, measuring 12w1d

Heartbeat=150 bpm

Movement=yes

It looks like she's praying. Yes, I have pretty much decided that Baby A is a girl, and she is on my left. She is deeper inside me, and was just arching her back and kicking her legs a little.

Baby B vitals:

CRL=5.44 cm, measuring 12w1d

Heartbeat=160 bpm

Movement=yes, bouncing!

Okay, not only is this kid a ham but he was careening across the sac like a champion trampoline jumper! You can see his face, one he looks like a monkey, the other a little devil. Yes- he. This is my boy, and he is on my right.

I realize I probably shouldn't be deciding their sex yet, but I can't help it. Won't it be cool if I turn out to be right?? No more pics till probably late June or July, when hopefully we will know one way or the other. Thanks for reading.

Introducing the future presidents/astronauts, nobel peace prize winners.........

Baby A vitals:

CRL: 4.39 cm, measuring 11w1d

Heartbeat:164 bpm

Movement: Oh my yes!

 

For the campaign.

Here's an arm.

Baby B vitals:

CRL: 4.37 cm, measuring 11w1d

Heartbeat: 160 bpm

Movement: Party animal!

Rock n' roll baby!

You can actually count fingers here.

This just keeps getting better and better. Tonight is my last estrogen injection, and my last progesterone supp is Friday. I can swim now, and despite my allergies, I am feeling much better every day that goes by. I really think we are starting to see the light at the end of this tunnel, faint yet, but there.

My niece went with us today so she got to see the babies for the first time on u/s. I really think both these kids are going to make it. I hope for b/g, but healthy is what I really want. As for names: what about Stewie, after the baby on Family Guy? Am I setting myself up for an evil child? Don't think so. As the title suggests, both these kids are destined for greatness.

Edited to add: I tried very hard to format this post, but obviously am a retard when it comes to typepad. Please accept my apologies. My kids should be able to edit it a day or two after they are born.

Short post

Sorry it  has taken so long to post. Here are the 10 week pictures, babes still moving around and growing and so am I! Holy cats I had to go get a slew of maternity clothes since nothing fits me anymore. I gained 5 pounds in a week. Still very fatigued, but now starting to wonder where fatigue ends and laziness begins! Almost wish I could just sleep through the entire pregnancy. I'll post more on Wednesday, after the 11 week scan. Thanks for reading.

Serenity now

Everyone is okay. Breathing a huge sigh of relief. So happy. Vitals so far:

Baby A: CRL: measuring 9w0d (as of yesterday)
             heartbeat: 172 bpm
             movement: yes

Baby B: CRL: Measuring 9w0d
            heartbeat: 174 bpm
            movement: yes

I'm sorry I didn't get the u/s pictures scanned, but you can see arms, legs, and heads, especially on Baby A. Only slightly concerned that the CRL measurements are a few days behind, yesterday was 9w3d.  But given that I can't seem to choke down anything with protien, I'm hoping they will catch up when my appetite returns, which will be quite soon.  Wow how exciting to see movement. They were both grooving in there. Leave it to a girl like me to have her own party going on everywhere she goes! Makes sense, especially if you know my past ;-)

We forgot to get a measurement on my cervix, Dr. Love is interested in keeping  a close eye on it, since I had laser surgery in 1997 to remove part of it, and we don't know the scar tissue situation. We will get that next week. Hopefully my cervix will behave and stay tightly closed until it's supposed to open.

I got the Dr. Love frown on the candy bars I've been eating every day, he said no-no. Stop it. I crave sugar and carbs so much now and this is after years of training myself to be "carb conscious." No kidding, for years I did not have a potato or bag of rice in my house. I'm going to have to start working on the protien thing, the only protein I can stand is dairy. No meat, fish, or eggs, just saying those words makes me nauseous. T suggested Ensure or other protien drinks.

So, as I thought, all my worry was for nothing. I really am starting to believe that both these babies are going to make it. I want to get past the doubt and start enjoying this pregnancy and start buying things. A very good friend of ours is having her 1st, after trying for a long time and a loss. She should be having him today or tomorrow. I am so excited for her and her hubs! She is going to be a great mom, T and I stopped by on our way home from Dr. Love's and saw the nursery, and all her stuff. Too exciting.

I have a lot to do in the next six months. I hope I feel better soon so I can get on it. I love me some Dr. Love!

Dread and DBT's

Okay, one of two things is happening: I'm either planning for the babies, excited about them coming, thinking about being huge and googling how to breastfeed two at a time; or, I'm feeling dread about Wednesday's ultrasound, thinking both babies are dead (my appointment got bumped from Monday to Wednesday). Sometimes I even forget that I'm pregnant, and I know everything is okay, since last night I felt my uterus expanding. It really hurt. It's my uterus growing, right, not fetal demise??  But in the back of my mind, I'm thinking, they're dead, their hearts have stopped, or they're not growing. Crazy I know, me, the Queen of Positive Thinking.

Then I quickly pray, God, please protect my babies. Let them grow strong and healthy. I know this is normal. But I'm really worried, and I'm going to ask my doctor to prescribe one of those doppler heartbeat monitors. I 'm not sure if it's too early to use, but I'm asking anyway. I know this is ridiculous, all my symptoms are still here, I'm still nauseous and starving at the same time, still exhausted, still sore breasts. No spotting whatsoever. Just paranoid.

As I lay on the floor too tired to move, wanting my back to heal since I pulled muscles two weeks ago, in my mind I'm remodeling my home, buying baby furniture, new carpet, and making biodeisel, thinking getup grrl's mantra, NBHHY (nothing bad has happened yet). I really miss her.

NBHH. OWH. (nothing bad has happened) (or will happen) Thanks for reading.

Castor and Pollux

You know, some time ago I wanted to change my picture from the Gemini twins to something else. But now that I'm having twins, maybe I should just keep it? Two cute little angels? Should I name my kids Castor and Pollux? They won't be Gemini, they will be Saggitarius if I go to full term. But I was thinking, these two little angels kissing?   What do you guys think? 

Dr. Love

I have to announce that I LOVE my new doctor. After four years of fertility treatments where I spoke to the doctor maybe a total of five times, now that I've switched to a real ob-gyn, I have to say, this guy is awesome. He came highly recommended, and I especially love him because he is going to do weekly ultrasounds on me until week 12. Woo hoo! Babies both looked great yesterday, hearts a-beating away, so we can all look forward to Monday updates now.

I'm still battling debilitating fatigue, which has led to more back problems since all I do at home is sleep, but I'm slogging through. If you are interested in sending possible baby names to me, this is a really fun tool to play with:

fun with baby names  Thanks for reading.

The magic beans

The ultrasound pictures are at the end of the post. Fuzzy little beans!!!

I have to tell you, when I saw those little hearts beating it almost stopped mine. I have read a thousand times that it’s truly an amazing thing to see, then when she put on the doppler I just started to cry. There is nothing like it when they are yours and they are alive. The thought of twins doesn’t even scare me anymore. Just the fact that they are healthy and growing is such an unbelievable feeling. Now there are so many things to think about.

I have told almost all the ladies at work and my boss, and I have gotten a great response. Most of the women here know to one degree or another that I’ve had problems, and it’s obvious something has been going on, since I am almost 42 and have no children. When I first started down this road, I worried a lot about how this office would react to the idea of me using a sperm donor that I have never even met. As I have said before, it is pretty conservative around here. But now that I’m here, I find that I just plain don’t care what anyone thinks, and I feel that people who are happy for me are going to bypass their judgment because I’m just so happy.

I’m still worried, thinking about the risks I have to face now. But I have come to the conclusion in this life that the mind is truly the creator of the future. Positive thinking and prayer really work if it is something that that God has planned for me. I like to think of God as my partner, He can make anything happen as long as I’m willing to do the work and I’m ready. Well, I am willing and I am ready. And it’s probably a good thing that this spiritual renewal is coming about, because I have a very strong feeling that I’m going to need God more than ever now.

I also believe that I’m having twins because T wanted it so bad, I know she has been praying night and day for this.

So many thanks to all who’ve prayed for me, who have supported me through this. Oh, and I have one more request: do you babysit twins?

A-one, and a-two........

Twins. Healthy, perfectly sized twins with thier little hearts beating like crazy. Meanwhile mom is exhausted, and trying very hard to find a scanner to show you the ultrasounds of my little beans. Long post ahead, I promise!

Stealing my thunder

I am in about five different moods today, some good, some not so good. I think I will start out with the good news and announce that I'm posting today from my brand spanking new Dell laptop! I didn't know what I was missing, lying in bed while surfing blogs and listening to my neighbors thump  thump thump from thier FREAKING music which is always annoying me. So that's what covers the happy part. Oh, and I'm also very happy that when I woke up this morning I was still pregnant. Actually I think I prefer the term expecting.

So now I have to worry less about getting into trouble at work for blogging, and more about now having something of value that my awful neighbors can break in and steal. Not that I have been getting much done at work anyway. The bad news is that I have had fatigue so bad I actually took off half a day today. I had a three day weekend, and seriously, I slept about twelve hours each day and missed my family Easter dinner, but we'll get to that in a minute.  The nausea comes and goes, and so was the fatigue, but now it won't go.  All I want to do is sleep. And eat. Plus it's been raining like crazy for weeks,everything is growing and it's really beautiful in the foothills right now, but my allergy headaches are terrible, and I'm too afraid to take anything. Okay, first bitch session done. Now on to the second.

I mentioned that I missed Easter dinner, which is was fine since I couldn't get out of bed anyway. A really damned cute thing has happened: it looks like after years of separation, my dad and stepmother are getting back together. T also informed me that my half sister is 10 weeks pregnant with her fourth, and my brother's girlfriend is four months pregnant with his fourth.

Now I don't know how to feel about this. The last few years when family members have gotten pregnant, they have been generally kind enough to understand my sensitivity to this. I feel okay with it now that I'm pregnant, but a little worried that, since I'm not quite out of the woods yet, I'm afraid to get too excited. Plus I had hoped to wait to tell everyone until my first trimester is over, but I'm sure T has told everyone. Yes, I KNOW YOU HAVE. BUSTED.

I think that I'm a little jelous, but not in the old typical infertile way, that searing pain you feel in your heart when someone tells you "I'm pregnant!" and you choke on your heart while saying, "Congratulations!" and change the subject before you break into hysterical tears. No, this is different. Being the only woman in the family without children, now, after seven years, I wanted to be the star of the show. Now I'm just another pregnant daughter. I know it's not that bad, that yes, my pregnancy is special, it will be my only child, and blah, blah, blah. But I wanted to have all the attention for once.

I am so thankful every minute that this is happening. But I can't stop worrying, can't wait until next Monday when the ultrasound will silence my fears of ectopic, blighted ovum, no heartbeat, triplets, and will reveal to me that all my worrying is bad and I need to stop it. I will also be so happy when this awful fatigue is gone and I can get something done around here, and at work. Eight more weeks, I hope I survive. Thanks for reading. I'm going back to bed.

A day in the life of a mood swing

4:30 am: Lie in bed wide awake and tell myself that I still have a half an hour before I need to get up, get very annoyed that I can’t squeeze in a few more winks, and get up and clean my kitchen. Eat a small bag of popcorn.

7:15 am: Arrive at work 15 minutes late to find 11 emails to answer, which I of course avoid and laugh hysterically at this instead (Thanks to Sarah at Sad and Beautiful World). Drink my yogurt and berry smoothie.

10:00 am: Make a list of baby shower guests and become very depressed when I realize half the friends on my list live in other states. Eat a can of soup.

12:15 pm: Tear up and start bawling in my car at the drive thru Wendy’s for a chicken spinach salad when this song comes on the radio:

I gotta take a little time
A little time to think things over
I better read between the lines
In case I need it when I’m older

Now this mountain I must climb
Feels like a world upon my shoulders
I through the clouds I see love shine
It keeps me warm as life grows colder

In my life there’s been heartache and pain
I don’t know if I can face it again
Can’t stop now, I’ve traveled so far
To change this lonely life

I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me

I’m gonna take a little time
A little time to look around me
I’ve got nowhere left to hide
It looks like love has finally found me

In my life there’s been heartache and pain
I don’t know if I can face it again
I can’t stop now, I’ve traveled so far
To change this lonely life

Continue to bawl until I get back to the office, where the entire Board of Directors wants an impromptu update on the Coalition activities, and of course I don't have a kleenex.

3:30 pm: Fall asleep at my desk. Wake up and eat a bag of skittles.

5:30 pm: Arrive home and scarf on two apples, a glass of milk and another small bag of popcorn before dinner. Get annoyed when I open new bills that remind me I’m going to be paying for this IVF until I’m 87.

7:00 pm: Lay in bed and flip channels while eating teriyaki chicken breast, broccoli, and a blackberry milkshake. Thank God about 75,000 times for my baby, and that he is healthy.