what is in a name?

/ emmykay / 1 Comment

When Frank and I were considering names for our twins, we had to come up with four names – two boys and two girls – since we did not know what the genders were of our children.

What initially sounded like a fun proposition turned out to be more daunting than I originally thought.  Sure, we had one “gimme” name – we definitely knew one of our boys names would be Frank the sixth.  Beyond that, we just weren’t sure.

The other complicating factor was that while I’d always thought I’d name a daughter Alleene, it seemed almost unfair to use that name and not have a name of equal importance to share with a second girl twin.  So, we went back to the drawing board.

After several months of text messaging, researching, reading and telling each other horror stories of people with names we were considering, we finally had four names for our children.  Phew.

And, as you all know, we had two lovely little girls and named them Elliana Mary and Carrigan Jean.  I wanted to share with you all (and with our little girls), why we selected the names we did.

Elliana Mary

Frank and I wrote down the name Eliana on the same day and texted it to each other as an option, without knowing that the other liked it.  Eliana is a Hebrew name meaning “God has answered.”  We felt that it was a perfect name after all of the challenges we went through with fertility and losing Lily.  The only problem was that we felt like the spelling was not exactly what we were looking for and so we added an extra “l” to the name to make it Elliana.  Even now when I look at her and think of her name, I am overwhelmed with gratitude to God for all that He has done for our family.

We selected the middle name “Mary” after my mother specifically and also after all of the important “Maries” that shaped our family as it is today.

Mary Kay, my mother, is the oldest daughter in her family (like Elliana).  My mom has a vibrant, warm personality and she is fiercely loyal.  Since the death of her mother in 2006, my mom has been the matriarch of our family, bringing everyone together for family holidays and events.  She is the glue that holds us all together.

My mom has a fantastic sense of humor and a tremendous ability to laugh at herself.  Wherever my mom is, there is a gathering of laughter and happiness and delicious food.  Mom is so gifted in hospitality!  In naming Elliana, I wanted to endow her with a name that represented some of the dearest and sweetest parts of my family.

While Elliana is named for my mother, my family has a strong tradition of great women bearing the name Mary.  My mother’s mother was named Rosemary and she was a talented artist and a model.  Rosemary had a knack for entertaining that she passed along to my mother.  As an artist, it was important to her that her grandchildren would be able to spend lots of time drawing and coloring and painting with her.  Her home had a perfect order to it – beds were always neatly made with crisp hospital corners and her closets had a faint smell of mothballs as she meticulously cared for all of her clothing.  Rosemary was a fashionista in her own right and was a talented seamstress who made many of her outfits.  Rosemary even made wedding dresses for her daughters and one of her daughters-in-law (Aunt Judy).

My father’s mother was named Mary Ruth.  While my grandmother Rosemary was born in Chicago and lived in the Chicago suburbs, Mary Ruth grew up in the country and lived in a small town called Roanoke just outside of Peoria.  Like Rosemary, Mary Ruth was born and raised Catholic and her faith was an extremely important part of her life.  Mary Ruth was a kind and sweet soul, always thoughtful and warm-hearted.  She had 18 grandchildren, but when I spent time with her, I always felt like I was her favorite.  Whenever we’d visit Mary Ruth, we’d find her sitting in her easy chair watching the Chicago Cubs and Country Line Dancing on The Nashville Network (now Spike TV – oh, how Mary Ruth would’ve wept!).  While I have many fond memories of Mary Ruth, one of my favorite things to remember is her singing while she scrambled eggs or poured cereal.  She’d invent songs about whatever she was doing in the kitchen and chirp them out as she went about her morning.

Carrigan Jean

We loved names that started with “C” or “K”s, but had a hard time picking a name since we already had a Caitlin, Karen and Kathryn in the family; a myriad of close friends named Kristin and Kelly; and then we have the Kardashian family to contend with (ugh – Kourtney, Kim, Khloe, Kendall and Kylie!).  Frank and I have very little in common ethnically speaking, except that we both have a little bit of Irish heritage.  Frank loves Irish names, so after pouring over all of the options, we kept coming back to the name Carrigan.  The name Carrigan means “spear” and while we did not see any immediate importance of the meaning, as Frank has been reading through the Bible, the word “spear” comes up frequently.  Just searching the word “spear” in the Bible reveals numerous occasions where the word spear was used.  In fact, it was a spear that pierced Jesus’ side confirming that he died.

Carrigan’s middle name Jean is in honor of Frank’s mother, Sandra Jean.  Sandy was also the second daughter in her family and the name Jean means God is gracious.  Sandy is a talented artist who loved both creating art and teaching her children how to create art.  Sandy is one of the sweetest women you will meet – and yet firm at the same time.  Sandy has a gentle sense of humor and is incredibly smart – she is more well read on many world issues than most people and she rarely speaks on anything that she is not informed on.  Her love of learning and interest in world issues was passed along to my husband.  Sandy loves the Lord and has dedicated much of her life to gently sharing the Word of God with her family and her friends.  Our hope is that both of our children will inherit that ability.

Sandy has an innate ability to be content with where she is in life.  That’s not to say she is complacent, but rather she has been able to discern when she can change her circumstances and when she simply needs to weather the storm.

Like Elliana, Carrigan’s middle name embodies several generations of our family.  Frank’s grandfather was named John (from which Jean is a variation) and Frank had many fond memories of spending time with Grandpa John on summer mornings as they went to a local diner for breakfast.  Grandpa John was a great businessman who loved God, his family and his friends.  Grandpa John was known for throwing great parties – a tradition that Frank likes to carry on with an annual K-Fest party.  Fair and just, Grandpa John was also known to get a touch feisty when provoked.

And so my hope is that Elliana and Carrigan would be encouraged by the women that have preceded them and add abundantly not just to our family’s story, but to God’s story.

From a purely aesthetic standpoint, we liked that their names weren’t too “twinny” when you used their full names, but that their nicknames Ellie and Carrie sounded similar.

twinpocalypse

/ emmykay / 1 Comment

If you drive by our home right now, you’ll see a white flag waving in the front yard.

We’ve succumbed to the twinpocalypse.

It was only a matter of time.

To be sure, I’ve managed to shower nearly every day.  I’ve put on make-up every day.  Maybe not a lot of make-up, but just enough to feel human.

We’ve ventured out into the world for things like a new cell phone, groceries and doctor’s visits.

We were actually in a wedding this weekend, which was only possible thanks to my mom, my sister (Caitlin), my sister-in-law (K1), and my aunt and uncle.  To thank all of those wonderful sitters, each of the girls puked mightily.  Because the K family’s motto is “Go big or go home,” the girls decided that simply spitting up was too… quaint? … for their liking.  Instead, they sprayed vomit in excess of 18 inches from their little selves, coating the couch, the carpet, various family members and, of course, themselves.  As a fellow projectile vomiter, I was proud of my girls.  Well done, sweethearts… well done.

In spite of our efforts to make our beds, keep the house somewhat orderly and keep ourselves fresh(ish), there are signs around the house that it is a losing battle.  Crusty stains on the couch (no matter how much we blot and spray and clean) and a never ending pile of burp rags by the basement steps headed to the washing machine tell the tale of two parents fighting the good fight.

If you were to drive by our house in the middle of the night, not only would you see a crisp white flag of surrender fluttering neatly in the breeze, but you’d also see various lights on throughout our house.  If the light is only on in the girls’ room, it is a calm night.  If the lights are on in the girls’ room, our room, the family room and the kitchen, well – game over.

I find myself feeding the girls in the middle of the night thinking of how easy it would be to have only one baby.  Feedings would take half the time.  While feeding the second baby, I think jealously: I could be in bed right now.

I also find myself thinking of my coworker’s daughter who had triplets and thanking my lucky stars that I have an equal number of hands to the number of children in our house.

Thankfully, we are mostly sleeping at night and awake during the day, which is very helpful in feeling like a normal human being.  We are still keeping up on some of our favorite TV shows (um, hello – FRINGE??  So good!) – even if there are quite a few interruptions to make bottles and change out the laundry.

And even though I am sure that it is only gas, the girls are smiling and cooing and “singing” in their sleep, which makes this all seem worth it in the end.

three things: birthing humans

/ emmykay / 3 Comments

In the middle of the night, when I am trying to feed two babies bottles and pump and watch Food Network before it goes to horrible paid programming at 3 a.m., I often think back on my time in pre-term labor (PTL) and delivering my little girls.  I thought it would be good to expose the truth about child birth (without grossing everyone out).  Here goes:

#1: lying liars!  the epidural DOES hurt!

I was most concerned about getting an epidural.  I know several people with botched epidurals and the dreaded spinal headache.  I hate headaches.  Of all the stuff that happened to me in the hospital over the course of the 12 days I was there, the headache and neck pain I had from lying in the horrible hospital bed was what made me cry.  Yeah, that’s right, pushing babies out was less upsetting to me than the headache from the hospital bed.  That says a lot about the hospital beds, right?

Anyway, I digress.  The anesthesiologist was annoyed that I was concerned about his skillz putting huge needles/catheters into people’s backs.  I think he would’ve given himself an epidural to show me that it was “no big deal, yo” – except that since it is hard enough to scratch your own back, much less stick arm-length long needles in your back.  (Note: I do not know the exact length of the needle… but I’m pretty sure it was arm-length).  Let me tell y’all, I felt everything.  I felt the numbing shot.  I felt the catheter going in.  I even told the nurse, “OH my gosh!! PAIN! Shooting down my legs/back!”

But once it was in, I had about an hour or two where I was pretty comfortable and didn’t feel anything. Until I felt EVERYTHING.  After about 2 hours on the epidural, I started saying, “I think that’s a contraction.” and Frank would look at the screen and say, “Oh, yeah, that was a contraction.”  And then I started breathing to get through the contractions.  I told the nurse that I was feeling the contractions.  That I knew where my cervix was.  OH-Heavens to Betsy-I knew exactly where my cervix was and what it was doing and it WAS NOT PRETTY! I emphatically told the nurse: THE EPIDURAL WAS A LIE!!!

Which is when the anesthesiologist returned, annoyed, to up the meds.  He left and I looked at the nurse and told her that THE EPIDURAL IS NOT WORKING!!!  She looked confused and concerned – how could this magic medication not work?? Now, as someone who would have foregone the epidural with a single baby delivery, I wasn’t as upset about the pain as I was concerned that if something went wrong in the delivery, they were planning to use the same catheter line to deliver the pain medication for the c-section. And if I felt a contraction, I was pretty sure I would feel the knife cutting for the c-section!!

Turns out, the epidural stopped working because Ellie’s head was in my cervix, blocking the medication from getting to me.  Her head was in my cervix because it was time to push!  And no, I did not need a c-section.  Phew!

#2: lying liars!  that is not pressure – that is PAIN!!

Thing one really bleeds into thing two: the problem of pain in a hospital full of pain medication.  I found that in the hospital they try to treat all of your pain – no matter what it is – to make you as comfortable as possible.  This is done mostly so that while in the throes of transition (the really painful part of labor), that you do not scream like a demon and scare the poor girl in PTL down the hall.  When pain cannot be addressed with narcotic pain medication, an epidural or some other such pain relief medication, you are actually experiencing pressure.  For example, when I was feeling pain in my cervix, I was actually experiencing intense pressure.  When I felt the epidural catheter being inserted into my spine?  You guessed it – that was just pressure.

#3: wait, how many gauze pads did we use?

Once our sweet baby girls were born, swaddled and whisked off to the NICU for evaluation and admittance, I was left on the operating table to get put back together.  I will not bore (or scare) you with the details, except to say that I remember listening to the doctor counting off ten clean, sterile gauze pads.  He used them to… um, do stuff… and then he counted eight used gauze pads.

He counted the gauze pads again…. and again… And then a nurse frantically started ripping through all of the linens in the soiled linens container.  And another nurse started shuffling through the items on the tray.  And the doctor started looking through a pile of sheets at the end of the operating table.

“Everything OK?” I asked.

“MMmhmmm,” said the doctor absently, counting  the gauze pads again.

“Missing a few pads?” I asked.

“MMmhmmm,” replied the doctor.

“Cool.”

Not to worry, they found the missing two gauze pads.

I’m just glad they counted.

the twins’ birthday: a day in pictures

/ emmykay / 25 Comments

About a week before the twins were born, Frank snapped my last pregnancy pictures in my super fancy, extra-large hospital gown.  What can I say?  I’m a trend setter!  For anyone wondering why most of my smiles look so pained, all you need to know is that I had a scary cervix.  A very, very scary cervix.

 

 

Then there was the morning of the twins’ birth.  The first picture is of my mom and me and the second is of my mother-in-law and me.

Grandma Mary Kay and me

Grandma Sandy and me

Then, after wondering if Frank was going to make it to the birth – he arrived!!  Hurrah! (note to self: pictures of me lying down are not the most flattering…)

Baby Daddy and me

After sitting around for about 90 minutes, the doctor determined that it was go-time!

Ready to have some bebez!

After pushing for about 20-30 minutes, sweet baby Elliana was born:

Baby Ellie

And then just three or four short minutes later, sweet little Carrigan made her way into the world:

Dad and Carrigan

In just under an hour, our little family of two became a family of four!  Mom holding Elliana and Dad holding Carrigan:

Our first family photo!

 

Yo’ Mama’s Got a Scary Cervix

/ emmykay / 7 Comments

… and other tales of child-birthing.

At some point last week, all of the maternal fetal medicine doctors (MFM), OBs at my practice and neonatal intensive care doctors were monitoring my condition from the sidelines.  One MFM doc told a NICU nurse that I was the patient with “the scary cervix”.

Sure, I knew that things didn’t look all rosy from a cervical standpoint, but in my fight to stay positive about the situation, I didn’t really think that my hooha was “scary”.  Well, not scarier than usual.

Anywho.

On Friday I had some visitors and I started to feel badly by the end of their visit.  My blood pressure was rising, which is not typical for me, and I was just feeling “off”.  I tried to get some sleep before the 1 a.m. nurse shift change when they conveniently wake up all of the sleeping patients and get their vitals.

After the 1 a.m. check-in, I stayed up to wait for Frank to land in Denver.  Oh, did I not mention that Frank was flying?  We decided that since it seemed like I could stay in my current condition for a long time, it didn’t make sense for Frank to take time off just to watch me sit (not patiently) in a hospital bed.  So Frank was flying into Denver and landing at about 2 a.m. CST.

During our conversation I mentioned to him that I just didn’t think I would make it until Monday to give birth.  I just had a feeling.

I tried to sleep after talking to Frank, but I felt like I had to go to the bathroom a lot.  I kept getting up to go, and then didn’t feel like going.  Finally I realized that  I might be having contractions again (what can I say?  My contractions just didn’t feel like contractions).  I called my nurse, she started monitoring me on the fetal heart rate monitor and saw that I was having contractions every 3 minutes.  She stepped out of the room to call my doctor and the hospital OB.  The hospital OB made it upstairs and assessed the situation.  I was at 5 cm and the amniotic sac was definitely bulging.

I was going to Labor and Delivery.

But no one would say for sure that I was going to have the babies for sure.  So after asking multiple times if I should call my husband in Denver and not getting an answer, I finally just called him.  Within minutes, he was up and getting dressed and racing for a flight.

The doctor did a quick ultrasound and determined that the babies were both head-down (how did the second twin flip around again in such tight quarters???).  I asked for an epidural both because I had to have one since we were delivering twins and because I knew it would slow down labor and give Frank a chance to make it to the hospital.

My mom and Frank’s mom arrived and sat with me while the epidural set in.  Note: epidural pain meds are not fun.  I was pretty pain free for the next hour or two while we waited for Frank.  He landed in Milwaukee at 9:30 a.m. and ran from the airport to the car.  Once he was in the car, we talked about delivering vaginally or via c-section.  He told me he thought that I would regret not trying it vaginally and I knew he was right.  I let the doctor know that we were going to do a vaginal delivery.

At 11 a.m., Frank arrived at the hospital.

Once Frank was there, they decided to administer pitocin to kick start the labor since the epidural had slowed down contractions.  After getting the pitocin started, I started to feel all of the contractions in my cervix.

Before that moment, I couldn’t tell you where my cervix really was.  I could vaguely say, “my cervix is down there.”  But once the pitocin started in, I realized exactly where my cervix was and what it was doing.  I complained to the nurse, as I breathed through the contractions, that this epidural business was a farce.  She said, “Are you feeling pressure?” and I said, “NO.  I am feeling pain.”

In the hospital, they often call painful things they can’t do anything about “pressure” because then you are not in pain.  If you were in pain, then they’d have to find something to do about it.  But pressure, well, that’s just too bad.

The anesthesiologist came back in, increased the pain medication and looked at me like I was crazy.  After he left, I told the nurse that I was still feeling a lot of pain.  Not pressure.  Pain.  In my cervix.

The nurse looked at me with the same confused look – how could I be in pain while on so much epidural medication.  She called the doctor in and after a quick check, he announced that I was complete.

What in the world does complete mean?  It means you are ready to push.

They gave Frank scrubs and started prepping me to go to the Operating Room because twins are never typically delivered without easy access to surgical equipment.

They wheeled me into the operating room and then told me I needed to scoot myself over to the operating table.  Excuse me?? I thought I hadn’t heard them right.  But I did.  So, me and my numb legs and giant pregnant belly scooted across the labor bed onto the operating table.

After everything was in position, I pushed for about 20 minutes and delivered Elliana and then 3 minutes later I delivered Carrigan.  Both babies were born screaming and generally ticked off.

Elliana was 5 lbs 10 oz, 19 inches long with tons of fuzz on her head.

Carrigan was 5 lbs 6 oz, 18 1/2 inches long with a little bit of black hair.

And they are doing awesomely well for being born at 32 weeks 5 days gestation.  No oxygen, no warmers and they are eating like crazy.

We are madly in love with them.

 

three things: hospital bed rest part one

/ emmykay / 3 Comments

Hello from a fancy hospital bed that goes up and down and has wheels!

In the land of lost dignity (bed pan much?) and swallowed pride (sure, I don’t mind if four people watch this cervical exam), I’ve been enjoying the view of the world from between my two elevated feet.  Since it appears that I will be here at the hospital for at most another 12 days, this might not be my only “three things: hospital bed rest” editions.  Bearing that in mind, I thought I’d share three highlights from my stay in the south tower.

thing one: the food

If you know me at all in real life, you had to see this coming.  Initially, I didn’t have an appetite.  Shocking, I know, but that just tells you how intense the mag drip was.  An Emily without an appetite is really not an Emily that anyone wants to know.  Since I didn’t have an appetite when they handed me the menu, I was really impressed with the seemingly extensive food offerings available and looking forward to the day when I would be hungry enough to order them.  Of course, my appetite has returned with a vengeance and now the menu looks all sad and boring.  Really, I can work through a lot of things, but bad food might cause me to go back into active labor!

Fortunately, just as the reality of my menu/food situation was settling in, a nutritionist stopped by to talk to me about my eating and to encourage me to… wait for it.. EAT MORE!  She told me to order snacks and even gave me access to the general population cafeteria which has things like PRIME RIB and COCONUT SHRIMP and SPLIT PEA SOUP!!  And, the extended menu changes daily!!

I’ll check back in on this issue in the future, I am sure.  But so far, the food has been OK.

 

thing two: the outfits

Let me tell you, I’ve started several amazing fashion trends while here in the hospital.  From support hose to gowns that open in the back, fashionistas in Milan have nothing on this girl.

Let’s talk gowns first.  Loose, flowing gowns are all the rage.  Everyone who is anyone is wearing one.  Especially when they are a pale mint green with pastel purple and blue hash marks.   You’ve heard of gowns that accentuate your cleavage?  Well, these gowns reveal your entire rear end – far more risqué than just a bosom-bearing frock.  Have a heart condition?  No worries! There is a handy pocket in the front with a secret hole that will allow your doctors to monitor your heart while you are working the party circuit.  Who says being health-conscious means ignoring your cardiac issues?  And if you’re not a cardiac patient on the run, it’s a great place to store your cell phone.

Because no mint green bootilicous fashion statement would be complete without the perfect footwear, my friends at the hospital have hooked this girl up with some rockin’ kicks.  Wearing plain gray socks would not only be boring, but possibly very dangerous due to the chance of slippage.  These fashion-forward, highly functional socks feature TREAD!  And because it’s hard sometimes to remember to put the tread on the bottom of the socks, these socks have tread on both the top and the bottom.  Sweet!

For those of you who like shapely legs, might I suggest a pair of compression stockings?  You might work up a sweat getting these socks over your big toe, but once on, the socks do an excellent job of relocating any cellulite from your calves to your knees.  And everyone knows that if your knees look really big, your feet will look small and dainty.  Who doesn’t love small and dainty feet?

 

thing three: free cable!

While I am totally aware that I am still paying for cable at my house that I am not watching, there is something about watching free cable in a hospital room that makes it seem all the more delicious.  Maybe it’s because when I watch TV at home, I am acutely aware of the fact that by watching extensive amounts of TV, I am NOT doing something I think I SHOULD be doing.  Like… pretty much anything else.  But as a patient in the hospital who is not even allowed to leave the room without being put in a wheelchair, I have no other options most of the time that I am sitting here. It’s like watching cable is part of what it is going to take to keep these babies healthy and happy.  And what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t consume as much TV as possible in order help my children?

That being said, for those of you who may be sleeping at around  3 a.m., you should just know that Food Network switches over to paid programming.  Just in case you were wondering.

That is all.

wait, what?

/ emmykay / 6 Comments

Some of you may know that I am currently hanging out at the hospital, trying to keep my legs crossed and keep the babies from spraying out alien-style.  For those of you who do not know that – I am in the hospital on bed rest and trying NOT to give birth.

And here is how this came to be.

I’ve been warned against trying to find all of the things that I could’ve, would’ve or should’ve done to avoid finding myself in this current situation.  It’s hard, as the primary care giver for your little ones, to not go down that path.  So hopefully, without too much self-blame, I can relate the story of how I came to be sitting in the mother-baby unit, still attached to both of my babies.

Since last Sunday, I’d been getting up way more frequently in the middle of the night, noticing that my stomach was very hard.  A few times, I was even up every 30 to 45 minutes, which was kind of concerning.  I realized by Tuesday night that the reason I was waking up so much was not necessarily to use the facilities as much as it was because I was experiencing abdominal discomfort.

Wednesday at work was fine – I put my feet up at my desk and cranked on some projects.  By Wednesday night when I arrived home, I was noticing that same tightness in my abdomen.  I told Frank to feel my stomach and he noticed it was really tight too.  So we sat on the couch for an hour and counted about 4 or 5 “contractions”.  They didn’t hurt, so I figured it was normal – after all, my uterus was measuring full term for a singleton baby.

Wednesday night was horrible.  I was up very frequently and had a hard time sleeping.  I eventually gave up and took a shower at 4:30 ish in the morning, with the intent of going into work early.  The shower seemed to calm things down, though, and I took a little bit of a nap.  Considering the tightness and how much I was up, I decided it was probably appropriate to see the doctor just to be sure that everything was OK.

I called the doctor, expecting an afternoon appointment, but instead, they wanted to see me as soon as I could get in.  Completely believing that it was just the usual case of neurosis for me, I decided to wait until 10 a.m. to go in so that I could get a few things taken care of at work.

The visit to the doctor’s office was pretty uneventful.  They hooked me up to the monitors and naturally, I didn’t have any contractions while I was sitting there (not surprising – mornings have been pretty quiet for me) and the babies seemed to be having a grand old time bouncing around.  The doctor did a fetal fibronectin test which predicts with 99% accuracy whether or not a patient will go into pre-term labor within the next two weeks.  She also checked my cervix and noted that while it was still long, I was dilated to 1 cm.  Hrm, I thought.  That’s kind of surprising.

Back to work I went.  I decided earlier that week to do all of my maternity leave debriefs a bit early, just because I am having twins.  Who knew that Thursday afternoon would be my last day in the office??

While I was sitting in my office, I noticed a few more “hard stomach” moments, but nothing crazy.  I went home to Frank and had some dinner.  Then he went out to visit with a friend and I settled down on the couch to write thank-you notes and watch TV.

Within a few minutes of writing the notes, I noticed that my stomach was getting hard at regular intervals.  I logged on to contraction master and decided to just keep track of how many times I was contracting and for how long.  After two hours of writing thank-you notes and watching HGTV, I had a very consistent pattern of contractions/tightness every 4-5 minutes, with a few instances of less than 3 minutes.  The tightness was lasting 30-45 seconds, sometimes longer.  My doctor had told me if it went on for longer than an hour, to call… at two hours of contracting, I figured I finally had to face the music.

See, I hate calling my doctor.  Loathe it.  It seems like every time something like this happens, it’s after hours.  Blah.  I told the nurse about the situation and she said she would talk to the doctor and get back to me.

Thinking it would be a while, I called Frank to tell him the scoop and advise him that he should probably start coming home.  By the time I hung up with him, the nurse already called back and told me to head to Labor and Delivery immediately.

And of course, the only thing I hate more than calling my doctor is actually going to the hospital, especially when I’m not 100% sure that this “tightness” I was feeling was really “contractions” or just “typical twin pregnancy stuff.”  Ugh.  I mean, my uterus was measuring full term for just one baby – perhaps this was just all part of the joy of twins!

We didn’t pack anything because, really, I didn’t think I had to pack for an overnight stay.  I figured I’d go in, they’d tell me I was nuts, and we’d be home in time for the 10 p.m. news.

On the way to the hospital, I had a few more “tightness” situations.  We got to the hospital and of course, just like when you take your car to the mechanic, everything started feeling better.  By the time they sat me down in the bed in Labor in Delivery (in the ridiculous gown that opens in the back) and hooked me up to the fetal monitors, I was 100% sure that they were going to tell me not to come back until the babies were crowning.

I actually said that to Frank: “They aren’t going to let me come back until the babies are crowning.”

Funny story.

While I was sitting in the bed, feeling ridiculous, I was having contractions 3 minutes apart.  The OB on staff came in and did a cervical exam and announced that I was 3 cm dilated with a bulging sac.

I looked over at Frank and just said, “Well, that’s not very good.”  And Frank knew that wasn’t very good because we already took the class and because he’s a good husband, he remembered what effacement was and what dilation meant and well, a bulging sac just never sounds good.  So he looked back at me with wide eyes and nodded and we just sort of sat there, taking it in.

And then that’s when the craziness started.  IVs were brought in, I was unceremoniously turned over and given a steroid shot in my tush.  Then they started the magnesium and the contractions got worse.  They were, at some points less than 2 minutes apart.  The doctors wanted me to try to sleep and let the magnesium drip take affect, so they gave me an ambien, but the pain was pretty bad still and I definitely couldn’t sleep through it, so they gave me some pain medication.

I don’t remember sleeping a lot, but I think I got a few hours in.  At 7 a.m., the contractions were still 5 minutes apart.  We were getting nervous and still had four more hours until the next steroid shot could be administered to help mature the babies’ lungs.

Around 8 a.m., the contractions finally started to space out and we were able to breathe a sigh of relief for the moment.  They kept the magnesium going and finally, everything seemed to be moving in the right direction.

So let me tell you about magnesium sulfate.  It works because it relaxes your uterus – and everything else, too.  Also fondly referred to as “mag”, this delightful concoction makes it harder to breathe, blocks up your sinuses and generally makes you feel like a wet noodle.  Oh, and when mixed with Ambien, it causes hallucinations.

At 10 a.m., the perinatologist and OB came in to assess the damage.  They wanted to keep me on the mag drip until I had my second round of steroids to mature the babies’ lungs.  Then things kind of get foggy and blurry.  At some point, I tried to go to sleep for the night, but was having a hard time sleeping because I was so hot (another mag side effect) and I couldn’t breathe.  So they brought me a cool wash cloth and an Ambien.  Hello, hallucinations. I woke up several times that night trying to get out of my bed, unsure if I was pregnant and wondering if the monitors I was wearing were guns or … monitors?  I doused myself with a washcloth full of water, threw pillows on the floor and asked the nurse if I broke my water.  I also asked the nurse if I was having triplets.

The nurse thought I was hilarious.

On Saturday morning, the perinatologist and OB had a pow-wow and determined the side effects of the mag were far worse than going into pre-term labor and so they stopped the drip.  And then we started waiting again.  Over the course of the next few hours, the nurses slowly disconnected me from the catheter, IV drips, etc.  By Sunday, I was completely wireless and essentially contraction-free!

Since then, it’s just been a waiting game.  The doctors feel that we’ve cleared a major hurdle and probably have at least another week before the babies make their grand entrance.  This will let the babies’ mature further and spend less time in the neo-natal intensive care unit (NICU).

We’ve been so blessed with so many of our friends and family praying for us and thinking about us – it’s been such a boost!  While this whole situation isn’t ideal and has both of us a little bit ragged, we are both keeping positive attitudes.  Our doctors and nurses have been great and everyone has been very impressed with the babies’ activity levels and heart rates.  And if these babies miraculously stay in until 34 weeks, I’ll get to go home because the doctors will no longer try to stop labor if it starts again.

on being forgetful

/ emmykay / 3 Comments

I was reading Psalm 59 and verses 10-11 stood out to me.  They said,

God will go before me and will let me gloat over those who slander me.
But do not kill them, Lord our shield, or my people will forget.

And so I ran a quick search through all of the scripture, looking for passages that talked about forgetting, and it’s amazing how frequently the topic comes up.  It comes up in the context of forgetting our youth, forgetting our shame (more new testament than old, it seems), NOT forgetting our God and forgetting our way.

With so many passages admonishing us not to forget our God and the works He has done, it reminds me that we are a forgetful people.  That I am a forgetful person.

In a few months it will be spring.  A few months after that, it will be summer.  I know that most days I will drive to work, taking in the green grass, blooming flowers and green-budded trees and I will forget the waist-high snow drifts and bottle-necked roads.  And that is just the weather.

We are about to have our world rocked next month with the birth of our twins.  And I have a feeling it will become easy to get caught up in just getting through each day.  I hope that we will not forget the work that God has started in us.

30 week update

/ emmykay / 2 Comments

Wow – I am quite behind in my updates and I have a lot to report!

What’s new with the babies? The babies are now head-down!  Hurrah!  Hopefully they stay that way and we can attempt a vaginal birth.  Now that they are head down (or vertex), I am feeling them move a lot more.  Our ultra sound tech was also able to see little hairs on top of their heads!  Sometimes the babies will get into an awkward position where they are actually sticking out of my stomach (it looks like their behind is bulging out) and I will push gently to get the babies back into place.  They are also very playful – if I push on their feet (I think it’s their feet…), they kick back now.

In other news, my uterus is measuring 40 cms, which is the same as a single pregnancy at 40 weeks.  Woohoo!  And we have 8 more weeks to go!

Stats:

Baby A – 4 lbs, 139 bpm heart rate, 2 weeks ahead

Baby B – 4 1/2 lbs, 137 bpm heart rate, 3 weeks ahead

How I feel: The pregnancy has been awesome for me.  I have energy, I haven’t been sick from the pregnancy and I don’t have a lot of discomfort.  Unfortunately, I managed to get a wicked cold/flu/sickness that is kicking my rear end.  I did great on Saturday for our shower (more like a FLOOD of gifts!!), but by Sunday I was a hot mess.  I slept for about 3 1/2 hours and woke up still feeling sick.  I managed to get into work on Monday for about 2 hours, but went home as I started to feel weaker and sicker.  By the afternoon, I was running a low-grade fever.  I took some Tylenol, but no dice.  By about 8 p.m., the fever was 100.2, which is sort of the “magic” pregnancy fever temp for calling your doctor.  Conveniently, the blizzard of 2011 hadn’t started yet (we were just enjoying a “pre-party” of 1-3 inches before the “big show”), so we were able to get to the emergency room to see a doctor.  We left around 11 p.m. with a prescription for Tamiflu and, thanks to the woman in the next sick bay, a renewed respect for the phrase, “Just say no to drugs.”

I took a sick day on Tuesday to try to recoup, but no dice.  By the evening, I was super-sick-feeling: chills, low-grade fever, severe congestion and ridiculous coughing.  My ribs are so sore from coughing!!  The good news is that the twins are doing fine and will likely be completely unaffected by this cold/flu/whatever.  As a matter of fact, whenever I cough, it seems the twins think I am saying “hello” to them and they kick me back.  Lovely!

 

three things: my fabulous hubz (winter edition)

/ emmykay / 1 Comment

I’m sure some of you out there are saying, “Barf.  It’s going to be one of those blogs where you’re all like ‘I love Frank’ wah wah wah. I want dish on how freakishly huge your belly is and when those kids are going to burst forth out of your belly all Alien-like.”  The babies update will come in due time.

And a few of you are probably asking, “What’s a hubz?  Where do I get one?  Nordstrom’s?”

While many a fine item can be purchased at a Nordstrom’s (ie. super big girl sized shoes that are also somehow still a little stylish), a hubz cannot be purchased at a Nordstrom’s.  A hubz (aka, a husband) can usually be found sitting in front of a TV playing a video game or watching a football game.

But not this hubz.

1. thing one: the hubz that cooks

For realz.  My sweet hubz is downstairs making chicken in a red wine reduction, steamed spinach and cooked carrots. And he is a manly cook.  He uses lots of spice, lots of fire, and real ingredients (none of my mamby-pamby splenda  and low-fat sour cream cr@p).  Gentlemen, if you are still looking for a good woman, ask Frank to teach you a few of his cooking tricks and you’ll be hitched in no time.

2. thing two: the hubz that shovels

I’m sure a lot of you have hubzes that shovel.  But until you’ve had to shovel 6″+ of snow in Wisconsin by yourself after working a full day – with the tears that are streaming down your face freezing on the end of your nose – you simply cannot appreciate the amazingness that is having your hubz home from work when the slushiest, iciest, heaviest wintry mix coats your driveway, front walk and steps.  And then when your hubz goes outside for 40 minutes and valiantly tackles this wintry mix (both with shovel and snow plow) without saying a peep about it – that is hotness right there!

3. thing three: tumz

After casually mentioning to the hubz that pretty much every night I want to vomit when I lay down thanks to this thing called acid reflux (thanks baby a and baby b for parking your cute selves on my stomach!), it was a joy to come home to a container of TUMS! While Frank is thoughtful, this particular maneuver might also stem from self-preservation: after hearing all of the middle-of-the-night projectile vomiting stories from my parents (and there are many), I’m sure it’s occurred to Frank that he could be my next victim.  The Hubz is wise and knows his wife well.