Best Moving Day Ever!

Yesterday was one of the most precious days of my entire life. As I sat kangarooing Cameron, our favorite nurse, Megan, came over to me and asked, “How do you think Cameron would like a change of scenery?”. I knew exactly what she meant and I got excited. It was FINALLY time for the twins to be moved next to each other!!! It’s been 5 weeks tomorrow and the twins haven’t been near each other. Within minutes, they began moving the bed that was currently next to Violet and started getting Cameron ready for the big move.

Once he was in his new spot, we couldn't take the smiles off of our faces. Dennis was kangarooing Violet so he was able to watch everything happen, as well. Then, even though I’d held Cameron for the day already, Megan took him back out and we were able to take our first FAMILY picture. Needless to say, my eyes are ridiculously puffy because I couldn’t stop crying. We waited so long for that moment and it was finally there. We held them there for a few minutes just soaking everything in when Megan said, “Okay, now I’m really going to push it”. She took Cameron from me and put him in Dennis’s arms. Dennis was holding our two babies and they were as close as they had ever been since being born. For us, it was absolutely incredible. I loved seeing them together. It was one of those few times in life when you picture something in your head over and over and then when it actually happens it’s even BETTER than you’d imagined. We all know that doesn’t happen very often. It was absolutely beautiful and it’s something I will never, ever forget. When I’m 100 years old, and I’m about to peacefully die in my sleep (because duh, that WILL be how it happens), I will have the images of last night running through my mind.

 

 

Violet slept through pretty much the entire thing. This was a little surprising to us because she’s our little party girl. She always has to try to stay awake when she knows someone is there. But, she was out like a light for the big move. Cameron, who sleeps through everything, was WIDE awake. He was the most alert I’ve ever seen him. His eyes were big and it looked like he just kept trying to figure out what the hell was going on. They were both so cute. We kept saying that Cameron was telling Violet she can’t boss him around anymore just because they are close again. I told Violet she can’t be a bossy pants, but I don’t think she’s going to listen. I told them both to look out for each other and to keep each other company when Mommy and Daddy aren’t there. The move actually made leaving a little easier because I knew they were so close. They’re finally together again. While they’re still in their incubators, it shouldn’t be too long before they can come out and be in NICU cribs. Cameron is wearing clothes and Violet will probably come off high flow and move to regular nasal cannulas soon. I’ll say this until the day I die (which will be when I’m 100): my babies are miracles. I love them more than anything in this world and I can’t wait to get them home. Miracles do happen.

One Month Old!

Our babies turned one month old yesterday! In a way it seemed to go by fast, but then I think about being in the hospital and the day they were born, and the first time I saw them in the NICU and it feels like a lifetime ago. I also think about the fact that that means we’re only about a third of the way through this (hopefully!).  It’s so strange.

We made it through Thanksgiving! One of the main reasons we were able to make it through is because when we arrived at the hospital, Cameron was on the high flow nasal cannulas! We were so happy. Violet was taken of the cpap earlier than Cameron, but this little man seems to be catching right up. They are both doing so well.  Every day that goes by is one day closer to bringing those little angels home.  They are making this so much easier on me by fighting so hard and progressing as they are. I’m so proud of them and pray that they continue to get bigger, stronger, and healthier every day.

With the holiday season starting, the emotional roller coaster is hitting me again. I’m not going to be decorating or putting up my tree this year. I’m not anti-Christmas or holidays or being happy or anything like that. I just know that every time I’d look at my tree, instead of getting that warm and cozy feeling, it would just make me miss the babies more. I can’t imagine missing them even more than I do now.  It’s getting harder to leave rather than easier and I think it’s because they are starting to really seem like BABIES. They open their eyes so much more and respond to our voices. Holding them is the most amazing feeling in the world because they are so content and warm and snuggly. It’s perfect. I never want it to end while it’s happening. I have to admit, though, it does get quite uncomfortable for my neck because I can’t help but stare at them the entire time.  

Everyone keeps asking when they will be home. The fact is, we don’t know. We don’t know because they are preemies. Today, they should be 31 weeks old… GESTATIONAL age. Instead, they are one month old. It’s absolutely insane. I know there are still so many what ifs and so many possible things that can happen, but I have faith that they will pull through. They are such miracles. We are so lucky that these babies survived! And now they are doing so awesomely.  One of the nurses said, “it’s okay to be happy, but you know you have to be cautious… you can’t trust a preemie”. After she walked away, I whispered to Cameron, “I trust you. I trust you and your sister”.  I hope that gave them some extra fight.

I can’t wait until the day I feel whole again. My chest feels empty and my mind is always thinking that I’m missing something. I know exactly what those somethings are and soon they’ll be at home with me, Dennis, and Ivy. Keep sending the love, prayers and support. 

Miracles-Part One

It’s 6am. My hospital room is silent. I am by myself. The other patients on this floor don’t get these moments of complete silence as often as I do. The other patients on the floor often hear crying newborns near their bedside. While I’ve been a mother for 48 hours now, I’ve not heard a single cry from my babies. My babies can’t cry, yet. My babies aren’t with me, yet. My babies haven’t been wrapped up in my arms and placed on my chest, yet. My babies are preemies and are in the NICU.

Usually when I write blog posts, I kinda outline (in my head) or map out what I’m going to say, what I’m going to leave out, and sequence the events before I start typing. Not today. I don’t know where to begin today or where to end. I don’t know what to say or what not to say. I don’t know if I’ll finish in 15 minutes or 15 days. I’m starting, though, and I guess that’s all that counts.

During the early morning hours of Friday, October 19, 2012, I had no idea how much my life was about to change forever.  For the couple of days prior to this morning, I had been noting some different things going on with my body. There was some extra cervical mucus when I used the bathroom and I had a tightening in my uterus. After researching and talking to numerous people, I came to the conclusion that I had been experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions. The changes were noted and monitored, but were never a real concern. Then, Friday morning between the hours of 2 and 4 am, I realized the contractions were getting stronger and becoming a little more consistent-about 10-15 minutes apart. After this realization, I woke up my husband and decided it was time to call my doctor. I wasn’t scared or even nervous really. In my mind, we were going to have to go to the hospital for a few hours and then hear the news I was dreading at the time, “no more work—bedrest until you deliver”.

 I spoke with my doctor sometime between 4 and 5 am. At first, he was very relaxed and told me he didn’t think I should go in yet with the contractions being 10 minutes apart. Before we hung up, he confirmed my due date one more time, “and you’re due date is October 28^th?” Ummmmmmmmmmm…. Nope… January 26^th, doc! This made him change his tone a little. He told me to get to the hospital and we’d take it from there. Still, I felt no panic or sense of urgency… they were just going to give me a shot or something and I’d be back home by the evening.

On the way to the hospital, I do vaguely remember telling Dennis to try to hurry it a long a little because the contractions were getting closer and more intense. By the time we’d reached the parking lot, I was contracting every two minutes. You would have thought there would be bells and whistles going off in my brain… still nothing. At 26 weeks, the last thing you expect is to be doing is going into REAL labor.

Once in the hospital, we were sent to Labor and Delivery-triage. I was told to give a urine sample, get in a gown, and that someone would be in shortly to check and see what was going on. This was my last moment of sanity. After the first and second person were checking me and giving me the test to see if my water bag had broken, within minutes there were 8 other people in the room. Everything is blurry when I look back on it, except for when a doctor sat down on my bed to talk to me. I don’t remember exactly what was said. All I remember are the words “48 hours, crucial, delivery”. They might not have all been in the same sentence, but those are the words I remember. I then asked the doctor, “wait… does this mean the babies are going to be BORN within the next 48 hours”. Her response was something along the lines of “yes”. Like I said, though, I can really only remember a few specifics from that morning. Within seconds of the doctor telling me that I was going to have the babies soon, the neonatologist came in to speak with us. She talked for a while and, again, I can’t tell you anything she said until, “do you have any questions?” My one and only question was, “What are the survival rates?” I’ll never forget her response, “60%”. Devastation and shock were taking over. I looked at my husband, my rock, and tears were already falling down his face. What the hell was happening to us?

When I came in, I was having contractions that were 2 minutes apart and I was dilated to 5 or 6. Unbeknownst to us, the NICU and neonatologists were prepping for the arrival of our very early babies. We were taken into an ultrasound room with an ultrasound tech and two high risk pregnancy doctors The doctors didn’t sound hopeful and I felt like the ultrasound tech felt sorry for us. Up until that moment, I was strong enough not to find out the genders of the twins even though we were dying to know. Something inside me told me to find out who they were and give them their names. I felt like I needed to start praying for my babies as individuals... as “real” people. The tech shortly confirmed what I’d known in my heart since our first ultrasound where all we could see were little spots: Baby A was a girl and Baby B was a boy. Happiness and sorrow filled my heart at once. Was this it? Was I going to name these babies right then and then have them be nothing more than memories of what they felt like on the inside? It’s what it felt like at the moment and it was certainly how everyone around us seemed to be acting. The tech told us she would give us a minute of privacy and that’s when Dennis and I confirmed our sweet babies’ names. Baby A, our sweet princess, would be Violet Laurie. Violet was a name I came across a few months ago and just could not shake. It’s delicate and beautiful, but felt solid, as well. Laurie came from my aunt/godmother. Laurie battles breast cancer everyday of her life and has proven to our family that miracles do happen. She is a fighter. She is one of the strongest women I know. At this point we knew that Violet was going to have a tough road ahead regardless of what happened and we knew that she deserved to be named after someone amazing. Our sweet Violet Laurie had been given the perfect name. As for our precious Baby B… my impossible to photograph in the ultrasound because he’s so crazy little boy… we chose Cameron Patrick. Cameron is my maiden name. I’ve always loved my former last name and felt that it not only sounded good, but it represented my dad’s and grandpa’s history. Patrick was Dennis’s dad’s name. While I never had the opportunity to meet his dad, I’ve heard a lot about him and I KNOW he’s one of the reasons Dennis has turned out to be an amazing person, husband and now father. There was never a doubt in our minds that we were going to use this name to honor the memory of his dad. Another baby was about to receive the perfect name.

Watching my husband cry tears of fear and sadness was something I wasn’t used to… at all. As I watched the tears roll down his cheek, I just kept thinking, “What is going on? What is happening to us? Is this real?” I still can’t believe the answers to the questions I had. I will never be able to recall exactly what happened the rest of that day. Perhaps my mind blocked it all out. Perhaps when they put me on the high dosage of the magnesium to stop labor my brain stopped working. Perhaps I just left my body for a while. I’m not sure, but as I said, I can only remember bits and pieces of the misery that was to be the next few days.

We were told repeatedly that day that it was essential to keep them in for at least 48 hours. This way, the babies would get the steroids they needed to develop their lungs and increase their survival rates. Because I was so dilated and my water bag was “bulging”, I was put on strict bed rest in  the hospital until I delivered. We were put into a rather large room with our own bathroom, small couch and a delivery bed. This would be our home until our babies arrived. With no answers , no end in sight, and no positive information from the doctors our situation looked incredibly bleak.

Instead of making this one reeeeally long post, I’m going to post this and then continue writing later. It’s been hard to find a time to sit and do this. Next post will be along shortly.

Twinkie Update

Words will never be able to express how happy I am to be pregnant. Every day, I get more and more excited about meeting my little sweeties. Part of me feels like I already know them. I know it’s crazy, but I feel so strongly that I know them and their personalities. Maybe it’s all in my head, but it’s a very strange (but awesome) feeling. I’m always referring to Baby A as “she” and Baby B as “he”. I honestly would be very, very surprised if we had any other combination in there. It wouldn’t be a disappointed surprise, though. Our little family will be perfect no matter what their genders are.

I never thought it would be THIS hard to wait to find out what the genders are. My ultrasound is in a few days and I know I’m going to have to try my best to resist asking what I have inside of me right now. The only thing that keeps me from doing so is the thought of the moment when they actually arrive. I’ve always pictured that moment as being the most amazing moment of my life. Not that it would be any less amazing if I knew the sexes, but I’ve just never pictured it that way before. There are so few true surprises in life and I want this to be one of them for me and for my husband. We’ve waited for that moment… or those moments for such a long time.

My stomach is getting bigger, my acid reflux is scalding, I’m out of breath when they decide to get cozy in my ribs, I’m ridiculously emotional, I can’t eat a vegetable or look at raw chicken without throwing up in my mouth, I’m exhausted, I have crazy sleep patterns and dreams, I can’t go to the bathroom no matter WHAT I do (any advice here would be appreciated), working is becoming increasingly difficult, I’m nervous and scared, and I LOVE it all. Sounds crazy, but all of these things are constant reminders that our wish came true. They’re moving now as I’m typing and I couldn’t be happier.

I know so many people that are going through fertility issues right now. Stay strong. Keep hoping and wishing and praying. Miracles happen.

First Day of School... For Real This Time

I'm so exhausted! Today was my first day with the kiddies and I'm definitely feeling it! I was fine throughout the day and even on my way home, but once I got home I was done. I guess my body isn't used to not being able to sit and put my feet up whenever I want. Just gotta get back in the swing of things, I guess.

All in all, it was a pretty good day. The kids were well-behaved and cute. When I told my first period class that I was pregnant they all clapped for me. Precious little things. It was hilarious because I just kept thinking "if they only knew!".  I felt so much better being at school than I did last year. It was so challenging for me to be there mentally when I was constantly somewhere else.

After school, I had to go get some lab work done for my new doctor. As I was leaving, I said to the babies, "you guys have no idea how much blood and urine have been taken from my body and no idea how many needles have been in me and how many appointments I've been to". Then I started to cry because I remembered that it's been just about a year now since I made the phone call to the fertility clinic. I rubbed my belly and told the babies they were worth all of it. We're very lucky to be where we are one year later... two happy people anxiously awaiting the arrival of two little sweeties!

17.5 Weeks-What NO Pregnant Woman Wants to See

Yesterday was the first day of school with the kiddos. We also had Open House in the evening. I woke up and wanted to jump right into the shower so I could find something to wear during the day and evening and pack enough snacks so the twins would be happy all day. When I opened my eyes at about 6:10 or so, I had to get up pretty quickly because I had the urge to go to the bathroom really bad. I noticed that I barely made it because my dark gray pj pants were a little wet (yay pregnancy!).  While urinating I felt a clump of something come out. I remember thinking something like, “wow I must have a lot of cervical mucus going on this week”. As I wiped, however, I saw something that NO pregnant woman wants to see throughout her pregnancy: blood. Once I could comprehend what it was, I noticed that it was blood on my pants. I immediately shot up and looked into the toilet: more blood and what looked to be a large clot. Panic set in and instinctually I reached into the toilet to see if what came out of me was actually a clot. I know it’s disgusting, but when something like that happens, being gross is the LAST thing on your mind. It was a clot and everything around me was bright red. It seemed as though the whole bathroom was bright red. As I scrubbed my hands in the sink, I looked in the mirror and began crying and shaking. This was, without a doubt, one of the scariest moments of my life.

Dennis was still sleeping, not yet up for work, so I came in and tried to calmly tell him that I was bleeding. He sprung out of bed and tried to calm me down a little. He found the doctor’s number (I was completely useless… I don’t even remember what I was doing while he was talking to the on-call service). An on-call doctor called back within minutes and wanted to talk to me. She said my ob wouldn’t be in until after noon, so I had to go to the emergency room. Reassuringly, she told me that it sounded like everything was okay because I didn’t have any pain and it wasn’t continuous bleeding. This helped a little, but my heart was still pounding out of my chest and I couldn’t stop shaking.

On the way to the hospital, all I could think about was how if we lost one of them, I would never feel complete again. They weren’t just “the Sheppard twins” anymore… these were our BABIES. Then, the thought crossed my mind that something could be wrong with both of them and I was almost sick. What would we do? How would I keep going? Would we try again? The worst of the worst thoughts were taking over my brain.

Minutes after checking into the emergency room, the nurse took me into a room to ask questions about my health background and why I was there. This didn’t take long and she sent me back to my seat in the waiting room. As we were sitting there, to my surprise, my mom walked in. I’m not sure why I was surprised at all… she’s been there for everything I ever needed her for. She sat with us and told us everything would be okay and before we knew it, I was called back to a room.  On the way to the room, the woman leading me there said, “oh twins! How exciting! I was supposed to be a twin, but my mom lost it halfway through the pregnancy”. Thanks, bitch!

I won’t go into every single detail, but I will tell you, that I had a very uncomfortable exam. As a result of that exam, I had to get catheterized for the day and was told I needed an ultrasound. The doctor could only find one strong heartbeat. She said that she truly believed it was because the other one wouldn’t stay still, but only hearing one heartbeat was terrifying.

Up to the ultrasound room we went. I’ll cut to the chase, both of them were there. Both of our sweet babies were squirming around and looking as adorable as ever. Both of their heartbeats were just fine. I finally was able to relax a little. The ultrasound tech said she really wasn’t looking at them, though, and that she needed to look at the placentas and my uterus to figure out why I had bled. By this time, it seemed that the bleeding had ceased.

After the ultrasound, back to the er we went only to discover that the tech didn’t do everything she was supposed to do. Back up we went. At this point, I also told my mom to go home. We had gotten there before 7 and it was already almost 11. We knew the babies were okay so there was no sense in staying in misery since Dennis was there with me.  After I’d been wheeled to the ultrasound room for the second time, the tech told us the ultrasound was going to take an hour and a half. While getting the ultrasound I thought was going to jump out of my skin. I was hot and nervous,  my hips, back, and butt hurt like you wouldn’t believe since I’d been flat like that for so long, they were doing construction right outside the room so the drilling was drilling through my brain and that catheter is NOT comfortable. The time seemed to be standing still and (seriously) just when I thought I was going to become a crazy patient and jump out of the bed and start screaming, she was finished.

Back down to er. We waited… and waited… and waited. By the time we got back down, the er had become packed. Hours later, the nurse came in (after Dennis had to go flag her down) to FINALLY take out the catheter. At least I could get up and move around now. Then, the doctor came in and told us everything appeared to be fine and he didn’t know what caused the bleeding. So, almost eight hours in the hospital and still no idea what happened. The important thing was that the babies were fine. Thank God.

Before receiving my discharge papers, the doctor told me I could not go back to work this week. I was quite surprised and my brain started freaking out. I didn’t have anything ready for someone else to come in and do the first few days of school! How could a teacher miss the first 3 days of school??? This is where my awesome coworkers/friends come in. I’m so lucky to work with such wonderful people. The staff at Veterans Memorial will never know how much I’ve appreciated EVERYTHING they’ve done for me over the past year. From the favors, the texts, messages, phone calls, cards, gifts, covering for me, listening to me, and just being there for me… I will never be able to thank them enough. I hope they all know that I wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for them.

Thank you, also, to my husband, mom, sister, and family and friends that have helped me get over every bump in the road… no matter how big or small those bumps happen to be.

Today is a new day. No blood today. I go back to the doctor for a follow up tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll tell me that everything is fine and I can return to work on Monday.

The comfort and happiness I feel knowing that my babies are safe is indescribable. All I want to do for the rest of my life is make sure they are happy and healthy. How can I love two people (so much!) that I’ve never met? It’s unbelievable and amazing.