2012

Today is the last day of 2012. The day couldn’t have come fast enough for me. During lunch, just now, I asked Dennis how it was possible to have the worst year of your life when the absolute best thing of your life happened during that year? Doesn’t make sense, does it? That’s how it feels, though. I feel, without a doubt that this has been the most physically, mentally, and emotionally draining and painful year for me. And yet, the most amazing thing happened to me during this time and has made my life complete.

Between failed iuis and ivf cycles, painful progesterone, a major scare at 17 weeks pregnant, a surreal and nightmarish stay in the hospital, the birth of our 26 week old twins, and to now-- day 70 in the NICU, I’m not quite sure how we’ve survived through it all. But, we have. I’ve learned so much throughout this year and I’m not sure I can put it all into words. I’ve learned a great deal about myself, my husband, my family, my friends, my babies, strength, courage, love, compassion, pain, heartache, patience, fear, life, death, religion, oxygen, nurses, hospitals, human nature, selfishness, selflessness, odds, chances, routines, determination, the will to live, obstacles and miracles.

2012 will never be one of those “forgotten years” where you can’t really remember exactly what you did or who you were that year. Take for instance the year 2004. I remember bits and pieces from that year, but nothing major stands out. 2012 was the year that changed everything for me. I will never forget it. Part of me wants to forget it… block it out and never recall all of the pain and heartache. But if I forgot 2012, I wouldn’t remember what it was like to see Violet and Cameron when they were EMBRYOS. I wouldn’t remember what it was like to walk back into the bathroom after taking what I thought was a negative pregnancy test and seeing the faintest , little, pink line. I wouldn’t remember what it was like to tell my parents that they were going to have another grandchild… and then telling them that they were going to have TWO. I wouldn’t remember what it was like to see TWO little jumping beans on the ultrasound screen. I wouldn’t remember what it felt like to feel my babies moving inside of me… I would do it all again just to feel that one more time. I wouldn’t remember what it felt like when the ultrasound technician confirmed what I already knew—I was carrying my son and my daughter. I wouldn’t remember what it felt like to look at my babies for the first time… even though I was terrified, they were the most beautiful things in the world and I wanted nothing more than to take care of them forever. I wouldn’t remember what it felt like to touch them for the first time or what it was like to feel their skin against mine when I first got to kangaroo with each of them. I wouldn’t remember what it felt like to feel their tiny little hearts beating against my chest. I wouldn’t remember the first time I heard them make a noise and the first time I heard Cameron cry. I wouldn’t remember the first time Violet latched onto my finger. I wouldn’t remember the first time I knew that they were looking right at me. I wouldn’t remember how happy I was when my son came off of the ventilator. I wouldn’t remember what it felt like when Violet took a bottle. I wouldn’t remember what it was like to have them both close to us and each other. I wouldn’t remember what it was like to look at them both at the same time and think about how absolutely beautiful they were. I wouldn’t remember what it felt like to know my babies were going to be okay… and that we were all going to make it together. I’d do it all again… just for a second of any of those things. THOSE are the things that have made my life complete. THOSE are the things that will NEVER let me forget this year and what it has given me.

I’m happy to see it leave. I’m welcoming 2013 with open arms. This new year is a fresh start for our family. While we are still dealing with being in the NICU, we know we’re close to our destination. We know it won’t be long now until we have our sweet babies at home where they belong.

Dennis and I know that when we bring the twins home our lives are going to be thrown into disarray, yet again. We’re ready, though. We’re ready for the 3 am feedings, the crying, the hundreds of diapers, the laundry, not leaving the house and the major lack of sleep. We’re looking forward to it. All of that stuff, as non-fun and exciting as they sound, are things we’ve been longing for.  Knowing that each of those things will be met with baby smells, and bath times, and smiles and kisses and cuddles (times two!) only makes us look forward to everything a little more.

On this last day of 2012, I am beyond thankful.  I’m thankful we’ve all made it to see this new year… this new year of hope and laughter and happiness. Tonight at midnight we will be at the hospital ringing in the new year with our future--our babies. We'll be celebrating this new year that brings my babies home to me.  Today, we learned that our sweet princess, Violet, will be coming home on Thursday. We are so happy and excited to bring her home and close this chapter of her life.  Soon, Cameron will follow. Perfection will not be reached until he is home, as well, but we’re getting close… so close I can almost feel it. Get here, 2013… the Sheppards are more than ready. We can handle anything, trust me.

Article Published and a Little Step Back

Before we went to sleep last night, I decided to check the site for a local newspaper. It was there! Our article had been published. This morning Dennis went out and bought six copies of the Daily Southtown. Here is the link to the article: http://southtownstar.suntimes.com/lifestyles/vickroy/17011923-452/vickroy-local-families-thankful-2012-was-year-of-miracles.html. In the actual paper article, we made the front page! It was a happy morning for our little family. I’m excited to put the papers in the babies’ scrapbooks.

My happiness lessened when we called to get an update on the babies and Violet’s nurse told us she hadn’t taken all of her bottle this morning. She was really on a roll. She had taken everything for almost 48 hours so they were getting ready to remove the feeding tube which is a HUGE step towards coming home. I’m just so sick of these highs and lows. Trust me, I know it could be much, much worse. But, this is getting old. I don’t want to go to the hospital today. I want to hold my babies and love them and cuddle them, but I do not in the least bit want to make the drive to the hospital, circle around the parking garage, make our way to the labor and delivery floor, check in with security, put on a gown, scrub in, get updates, find “comfy” chairs, deal with cords and wires, and finally settle in to enjoy the babies. I don’t want to do it. Of course as I type this I’m thinking to myself everything is all worth it just for a minute with my babies. I just want them home.

Cameron is doing better with his breathing. This morning when I called he was at 1.5 liters for the flow and 24% oxygen. That’s better than it’s been so far. There’s still no date for his surgery. My little guy is getting so big and cuddly. Cameron is about 6 lbs!!!

I just feel like this part of our lives is never going to end. People always say that soon it’ll be a distant memory and it’ll feel like it was such a small part of our lives. I know we’ll never feel that way. I will never forget the way it feels to kiss my babies goodbye every single day. Or what it feels like to walk in to their room and wish so bad that they were there. Or go to bed every night wondering how they are doing. Or wonder if they know I’m their mommy. Or if they wonder why their mommy and daddy aren’t there for them all of the time. I will never forget any of it… not a single high, not a single low.

Every day I hope that they dream of us. I hope that they know how much I love them and how much my heart aches for them constantly. If they don’t know now, I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it to them. Our time in the NICU seems never-ending and I know it’ll be the exact opposite when they come home. I know time will THEN fly by and I’ll be begging and wishing that time will slow down so I can savor each second that I get to be with them. They are without a doubt the best things that have ever happened to me. I can no longer imagine a life without those two precious angels.

Christmas Angels

This morning I’m missing my babies a little more than the usual. Today is Christmas morning. I’m supposed to be getting them from their cribs, holding them close and opening presents that Santa left under our tree. We’ll still be getting them from their cribs, holding them and opening presents, but it won’t be in the coziness of our house. Instead, we’ll be opening presents that Santa left in the NICU. These babies will never know how much my heart aches for them every second of my life, but especially this morning, on Christmas morning.

Dennis and I have promised to them that we will make every Christmas they have as magical as can be. It’s so crazy how few precious years we have with them when they are still innocent enough to believe in Santa Claus. Christmas morning was always my favorite part of Christmas. When I was young, of course it was about what Santa had left under the tree. The living room always looked absolutely perfect… like a movie. The gifts were stacked and arranged perfectly. My parents would drink their coffee  as we sat and laughed and talked together as we opened our presents. There was rarely any arguing or crabbiness because it was Christmas morning and everything felt right. As I grew older, the specialness remained, but it had changed. I was beginning to learn what it meant to GIVE  a gift. While I still loved opening my gifts, I loved to watch my family opening the gifts I had picked out especially for them. Something about watching a person you love open a gift from you is really magical on Christmas morning. I can’t wait to watch Violet and Cameron open gifts for many years to come.

I know we’re getting close now. We’re in the homestretch for sure. Violet has her carseat challenge on Wednesday. We have to bring the carseat in and make sure it’s all set. Violet has to be able to sit in it for 90 minutes without any funny business. She is also taking just about every feeding by bottle now. She’s not having any issues. She’s going to be home very, very soon. Everyone keeps asking me if I’m excited about her coming home. Don’t get me wrong, I want my sweet babies home more than anything in the world… but, I want my sweet BABIES home. I feel so sick that Cameron will not be coming home with her. At least when Violet is there she can keep him company and look out for him (I know she does). Also, I don’t know exactly how we’re going to work out this schedule. While I’m here with her I’m going to feel like I should be at the hospital and once I’m there I’m going to feel like I should be here. I know I’m lucky and blessed to have her coming home. I’m not complaining. I just want my family home where they belong. This road has been too long. 9 weeks. They were born exactly 9 weeks ago.

Sweet Cameron needs his hernia repaired and they aren’t doing it until after the new year… whatever that means. I’m wishing so much that he comes through it like a champ. I know he will. He’s a strong little boy and gets stronger every single day.

Have yourself a Merry little Christmas. Be thankful for your loved ones and the fact that they are able to be home this Christmas. If you have children, cherish every second of their innocence. I can’t wait to do that starting in a little while when I go to the hospital to hold my Christmas angels.

High to Low

I’m sick right now.  I don’t have the flu. My head isn’t hurting. No infection. No virus. The only thing that is aching is my heart. When my son came off the ventilator, it was one of the happiest moments of my life. I told him that he would never have to go back on. Now, his little body has made a liar out of me. Today, the doctor told me that Cameron has a hernia and will need surgery. I haven’t talked to surgery, yet, just the doctor and our nurse. I know it’s a common problem for preemies and I know that he will recover, but it makes me so sick to my stomach to think of my sweet boy back on the ventilator and IV fluids and in pain. I thought we were done with all of that. It was a blow and it hurts.

I keep picturing him back on the vent and my eyes just keep filling with tears. I think about surgeons cutting into him yet again and leaving a scar on his tiny body. This poor angel is still supposed to be INSIDE of his mommy and instead he is moving onto his next surgery. It’s not fair to him. I can’t help but feel incredibly guilty. No one wants to see their babies in pain and it’s breaking my heart to think about how much his tiny little body has gone through and is going to go through.

Cameron is strong, though, and by the time he gets to surgery he’ll be even bigger and stronger. I have to have faith that he will put up a fight to get that vent out after surgery and he’ll be so hungry for a bottle that the nurses will have no choice but to get that stupid tube out of him.

We were on such a huge high because Cam took his first bottle yesterday during a feeding. I was nervous about it, but he did awesome with it. Today he took two more bottles while I was there. He’s eating like a champ and he was down on his flow and percentage of oxygen. I definitely went from an extreme high to an extreme low. This sucks.

I’m tired of the NICU life. I know it could be worse and I know my babies could’ve had a much rougher road. But, that doesn’t make things much easier. I’m so proud of them and so very, very ready to take them home. I miss them so much when I’m not there. It feels like I will never get to hold them in my arms here at home. I know that that’s not true, but it really feels that way. At this moment, I would give anything to be listening to Violet make her cute little noises and watching Cameron’s eyes light up when he hears me talk. Those are the things I long for every second that I’m not with them.

I know my miracle babies will continue to make me proud. I just wish they were doing it from our home.  I also know they are where they need to be right now. I just wish they were where I need them to be…

All You Need is Love

I’m not sure why things happen as they do. I used to firmly believe that things happened for some type of reason whether that reason be good, bad, important, insignificant, etc. I believed that there was some rhyme or reason to all things. I’ve changed my mind. I’m not sure whether my family and I were just lucky for the first 24 years of my life or what, but we’ve adapted to a new “normal”.

We used to be able to tell each other that everything would be okay. It’s hard to say that now. Not because we don’t want things to be okay, but simply because we’re unsure. We never expected our beautiful, sweet and young Grammy to be stricken with a form of dementia that has taken her from us. We never expected cancer to hit our family so hard. We never expected to have depression and anxiety take over our loved ones’ lives. We never expected loved ones to lose jobs and have to worry about money. God knows we didn’t expect the twins to come 3 months early and be in intensive care.

So, one might say you have to expect the unexpected or to be thankful for the things you DO have. Those are simply words. Words that don’t mean anything when you’re in the thick of it. Or so it seems. Sure, people try to encourage, sympathize or comfort or offer help, but nothing actually helps. They know this and we know this. You know when you’re on the opposite end of things and things are shitty for someone else. You know that your words don’t “help”.

Yet, those words… that comfort… the offers… they are important. People going through tough times need those words even though they don’t really “help”. I’m not sure what they do. They do something. Maybe they remind us that life doesn’t stop for our problems whether they are big or small. Maybe the words are there so our brains try to FEEL better or convince us that we can get through something. Maybe we need those words because we need to remember that in spite of all the crap we go through, there’s love around us.

I know it sounds a little corny (I hate that word), but I think there’s some truth to it. The only thing that wakes us up in the morning sometimes is the love we have for others. If I didn’t love the babies so much, I wouldn’t be able to do this. If my Papa didn’t love my Grammy so much, he wouldn’t be able to drag himself out of bed. If my family didn’t love and support each other, some of us might have given up. But, there’s something that drives us to do what we need to do. It’s not the feeling that we HAVE to do it. It’s not the feeling of WANTING to do it necessarily. It’s more than that.

I’m not sure what I’m rambling about, but I felt the need to ramble. I think that too often we take for granted the love we have for others and the love they have for us. I guess it’s important to always remember that no matter how shitty things are, that love exists. It may be the only thing that allows us to fight through the tough times. I know my family feels like we’re all running on empty right now… I couldn’t agree more. I also know we can all keep going, though… Because we love each other. All you need is love, right?