Three Under Two

Show and Tell

2008-08-17T20:16:00.003-04:00

Well, we made it back from our anniversary celebration and everyone survived. I actually even relaxed and had a great time once I heard that all of the kids were doing great with the grandparents. It was really nice to have some "couple time" with DH and to revisit the place we went to on our honeymoon 10 years ago, Cap Juluca in Anguilla (about 5 miles north of St. Maartin). So my show and tell for today is the view from our suite- huge wooden folding doors (the length of the room) opened up to our veranda, where we sat each morning eating our breakfast. We could hear the waves crashing at night. Pure bliss:And one more of the beach at the resort....aaaah, I feel relaxed just looking at it again:
We had a heck of a time getting back (cancelled flight left us stranded one night in St. Maartin in a fancy-looking but actually gross hotel) but everything worked out fine in the end and I'm glad DH "forced" me to go on this trip :)

Kill 'em With Kindness

2008-07-31T14:04:00.003-04:00

OK, I swear this is going to be my last in-law related post...this blog is not going to turn into a rant on my sister-in-law.

But just to close the loop on this whole "issue," after my last posts I did some soul-searching and decided I had two choices: 1) I could let this animosity continue to eat everyone alive or 2) I could suck it up and try to make the best of an annoying situation. Considering the fact that, whether I like it or not, SIL is family and she will always in our lives, I decided to take the high road. My mother always taught me that the best way to deal with difficult people is to "kill 'em with kindness." In other words, be the better person so they can never speak poorly about you (and won't know what to make of your unexpected kindness).

So as hard as it was for me, I decided to take the first step and extend an olive branch by seeing if SIL would like to get together for a playdate with the kids. I didn't tell DH I was doing it because I wasn't doing it to "prove" anything to him or make him feel like I was doing it for credit.

To make a long story short, SIL seemed interested, but in the end flip-flopped over several days and finally bailed-- not by telling me directly, though, but by sending her father (my FIL) with a message that she wouldn't be able to get together on the date we had finally settled upon after she had already changed her mind several times. And there's been no communication since (she wasn't at our standard Friday night dinner this past week). So I'm sort of in limbo...do I take this as a hint that she doesn't even want to try to get along? Do I wait for her to come back and pick up the conversation to attempt to reschedule? Her big trip and our vacation is coming up so I'm just leaving it alone for now. When we all get back work will get busy for her and the kids will all be back in school (her kids are in school five days a week) so there's really no chance to get together. I guess maybe that's the way it'll end.

And now back to your regularly scheduled program...

The Upshot

2008-07-13T21:44:00.002-04:00

Thanks to everyone for your supportive words and suggestions. I was mulling over my options when DH tells me today that he spoke to his parents about it when he was at their house this morning. I was a little caught off guard because I was really leaning toward the "don't ask, don't tell" approach to keep the peace. So much for that idea.

Apparently MIL and FIL are very upset that SIL and I aren't BFF and take it personally. I don't know exactly what was said but I'm sure that they had some pretty stern words for me and I'm glad I wasn't there (although knowing them, they'd never tell me this to my face- well, maybe MIL would...) I feel pretty sad that they are upset about all of this and, I'm sure, blame me, but I hope that at least they recognize why I feel the way I do.

Also, DH (finally) confessed to being upset about this since Thursday. This is something he does all the time- stew about things and not tell me about it despite repeated "is everything OK" questions. I totally get why he's upset- he's stuck in the middle no matter what I do and he feels really torn. We had a pretty good talk- I asked him exactly what he needs me to do...but making it clear that I will not become best friends with her. I told him I have intentionally NOT bitched about her to him for a year now in order to keep him out of it, but he said that he doesn't want me holding back and would rather I tell him when things upset me instead of keeping it inside and having it eat me up. And I asked him to back me up when we're around her and she does something out of line (instead of leaving it to me to handle all by myself). So I think we're making some headway at least in terms of how it affects the two of us, and I'm going to try to make an effort to not be as hard on her as I usually am, because I'm sure by now I am looking for things to annoy me. Don't get me wrong- we're never going to be friends (because she's just not the type of person I would ever want for a friend) but I am going to try.

Oh, and the kicker? SIL is going to be away on her trip that weekend anyway. So as I suspected, all of this was for nothing and I could have looked like the better person by never saying anything in the first place, but I'm glad that DH and I got to hash it out and just hope that we can figure out a way to make everyone content from here on out. (Notice I said content, not happy, because MIL is never going to be happy unless SIL and I are BFF. Still not going to happen).

Another In-Law Related Dilemma

2008-07-11T13:35:00.003-04:00

DH and I are going away for our first child-free vacation to celebrate our 10-year anniversary. We are going to the same very posh, exclusive resort on a small Carribbean Island that we went to for our honeymoon (when we could afford it a lot more than we can now, with three kids and after spending a crapload of our savings on IVF). Most of my friends are envious and keep saying, "Oh, my gosh- you must be so excited. Are you counting down the days?" Call me crazy, but I'm not. For a number of reasons.

First, I am scared out of my mind to leave our kids. I'm not so much worried about them-- Smiley will be staying with my in-laws, and MIL is a pediatrician. Can't get any safer than that. The twins will be staying with my parents and I know they will be fine. All of our parents are local and live within 7 miles of each other so this isn't a huge deal to split up the kids, and it just made more sense than to leave all three with one set. I am more worried about the fact that DH and I are going to be on an airplane together. As in if anything (G-d forbid) happens, it happens to both of us. I get sick even writing that.

Second, and this may be a totally unnecessary, irrational worry, but I worry that my MIL is going to let my SIL have "alone time" with Smiley while we're away. The thought only came to me after MIL suggested I leave Smiley with SIL while MIL and I take the twins to a doctor's appointment (another long story- MIL the pediatrician wants our twin daughter to see an orthopedic surgeon at her practice because she thinks she's walking funny...) As my previous posts indicate, I will be leaving my children in SIL's care WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER. And not even then. My major concern is SIL's temper-- she frequently loses it with her own children and has been known to scream at them to the point of making them cry, and even handling them roughly when she gets mad (although I would never say she's abusive). She can fly off the handle and be totally irrational. And while I know chances are she wouldn't do that to one of my kids (oh- wait- she already has...), I don't want to take that chance. SIL also has some larger emotional/psychological issues (that I won't get into) that make me not trust her judgment around my children.

So I can totally see MIL bringing Smiley over to SIL's house (she lives a mile away because she can't be without her Mommy) and leaving her there to "play with her cousins." MIL is constantly pushing for the kids to play together and has even gone so far as to do it behind my back (another long story) because she knows that other than Friday night dinners, I am not enthusiastic about everyone getting together. I can tell for a fact that she WILL have our neice and nephew over to play with Smiley at least once a day while we are gone. And I am having a hard time with that but as long as I know that MIL and/or is there supervising, I can live with it. But what I cannot live with is her leaving Smiley with SIL.

Now the question is how do I deal with this? I can't go away and worry the entire time that Smiley has been left with SIL. I don't know if I can leave without saying something to MIL, but how do I tell MIL that I don't trust her daughter with Smiley? Although MIL knows about SIL's issues, it's still her daughter and I think she would be highly offended if I said something. And DH isn't going to be of any help. Against my "speak no evil" rule, last night I brought up this concern- as diplomatically as possible- with him. His response was to ask me if his sister lost her temper with her kids when they were Smiley's age, implying that she only flies off the handle now that they're older. First of all, I do remember her losing her cool when they were younger and were crying inconsolably (she'd shove them off to her mother or husband and tell them to deal with them) or when they did something totally appropriate for a young toddler (her daughter ripped the page in a book by accident and she flipped out). Second, I don't care-- the fact that she flips out and loses her cool bothers me, period. It doesn't matter that she does it because her kids are older or not. He also asked me why I even think that MIL would leave Smiley with SIL. I understand- there's really no reason for her to do so- but I want to cover my basis just in case so that she can't play dumb and say "well I didn't think you'd mind" when we come back.

I asked my sister, who's opinion I really respect, what she'd do in my situation. She said that if I could live with the fact that Smiley might spend some alone time with SIL while we're on vacation, recognizing that in all likelihood nothing would happen or if it did (like SIL yelled or lost her cool), Smiley would never remember and it wouldn't affect her, then I shouldn't say anything. Take a "don't ask, don't tell" approach, recognizing that SIL isn't dangerous and I don't fear for Smiley's physical well being if she was with her. But she said if I was going to worry about it the entire time, I probably need to say something at the risk that it's going to piss MIL off.

So what do I do? Part of me thinks the "don't ask, don't tell" is probably a good approach because I know nothing bad is going to happen to Smiley and the chance is that MIL will be there the entire time anyway. Heck, for all I know, SIL may be out of town that week (she has a big work trip coming up but I haven't felt like asking her when it is). I don't want to make MIL upset. But the other part of me feels like I am the mother and I should be able to tell the person taking care of her that I don't want her left with anyone else while we're gone. And I REALLY don't want SIL spending time alone with her.

DH's lack of support in the matter isn't helping and I feel like it's creating tension between us again, like every time something comes up with his sister (that's why I have stopped saying anything about her to him). I really just don't know what to do.

And in the meantime, I'm still sick with worry about leaving at all. This wasn't my idea. DH is the one who really wanted to go back to where we went for our Honeymoon and bless his heart for being so romantic and splurging on this vacation. I can't crush his heart by saying I don't want to go (plus everything is now non-refundable) so we're going whether I like it or not, but that doesn't mean it's not keeping me awake every night.

I thought vacations were supposed to be relaxing!?!!

Show and Tell

2008-06-21T21:26:00.005-04:00

In an attempt to lighten the mood around here, I thought it would be good to participate in Mel's weekly Show and Tell, and to talk about something that makes me happy (aside from my husband and kids, of course!)

I think I've mentioned it before on this blog, but early last year I decided to train for my first triathlon. I have been running competitively for years and was looking for something to mix it up a bit, and was very excited about getting into triathlons. I had a VERY old bike that my father, a big cyclist himself, had bought me years and years ago, so I was looking to buy a new bike that didn't weigh a million pounds when I got pregnant (let's not even talk about the fact that I got pregnant spontaneously when training vigorously for a triathlon, when during my six rounds of IVF I freaked out about even a light jog on the treadmill). So buying a new bike- and training for a triathlon- went onto the back burner.

I was determined to do that triathlon, so after Smiley was born I signed up again for this year's race. But I still needed that bike, knowing that I can get competitive in these races and I would not be able to be competitive at all on my old, million-pound bike. DH was all for me buying a new bike, but I felt guilty since I'm not working and, hence, not making the money around here. So I made a deal with myself: I'd save up money I made doing work for my father (he owns his own company and I do some work from home for him from time to time) and when I had enough to buy a bike, I'd buy it with that money. It made me feel better, since I felt like the bike was a splurge and DH doesn't splurge on anything for himself, so at least it would be a splurge paid for by "extra" money I made on my own.

Over the course of six months, I earned enough working for my dad to buy a decent entry-level road bike. It's not top of the line, but I figure I can always invest in a more expensive bike if I really get into racing and once I'm working again. But it is a great bike and I love it already. It has clipless pedals, which means you wear shoes with cleats on the bottom and "clip" into the pedals-- so your feet are actually stuck to the pedals (helps with efficiency) and you have to learn to clip out so you don't topple over when you stop.

I was scared about learning to ride a "real" bike, with the clipless pedals, but excited. And over the course of the past two months I've really gotten used to the bike and LOVE riding. My father and I used to ride together when I was much younger and it reminds me of those rides-- a special time we shared together-- and gives me the chance to ride with him again (we went out together a few weeks ago). I love having that shared interest with him. It also reminds me that I can do things that might scare me at first. Plus, I feel like a pretty bad@ss in my cleats, helmet, sunglasses, cycling jersey and gloves. And I love whizzing past guys.

This morning I went out on my first group ride-- a 55-mile ride that turned into a 60-mile ride because of a wrong turn-- and it was exhilarating. But the best part of the ride was who ended up riding with me. I got to the ride start and was a little intimidated to see that I was the only woman on the ride with a clearly VERY fast group of guys. But at the last minute before we left, a woman pulled up and got out with her bike. I didn't look at her closely but I did heave a sigh of relief and thought, "thank G-d there's another woman here!" It wasn't until I pulled up a little closer that she looked at me and said my name. It was a very, very dear friend of mine who I used to work with and who I had not seen in over two years. It was kind of an eerie irony that just a few days ago she sent me an email and we had been corresponding back and forth about triathlons, cycling, etc. In the course of the emails we both mentioned we were going to start riding with a group, but it never occured to us to compare notes as we don't leave that close to each other and I assumed she would be riding with a group closer to her house.

It turned out that we were the slowest in the group (those guys were not only fast, they were insane) so we rode the entire 4-hour ride together and had a chance to catch up. I really don't know what I would have done without her-- I would have been riding the entire way-- imagine farmlands and cornfields-- by myself and would have freaked out after missing the turn that we missed (and subsequently found-- but not until we stopped to ask a nice man who had a pickup truck and offered to drive us and our bikes back to the point where we missed the turn-off...yes, go ahead and yell at us for accepting a ride from a stranger but I would have NEVER done that by myself and not without knowing we both had our cellphones with us). So we had quite the adventure and a great ride. And it was so special to me to be able to catch up with her. I am not one to believe in "divine intervention" but I have to feel that someone was looking out for me today by sending her to a ride out of her area, the first group ride for both of us, on a ride where I would have ended up riding by myself if she wasn't there.

So my Show and Tell today is my new bike-- it's not only a bike, but it's taught me I can be strong and confident, learn new (kind of intimidating) things and it is the reason I ended up reconnecting with a very special friend today.

No Closure

2008-06-21T21:20:00.002-04:00

So I went to the funeral mass for our neighbor and friend this week. I was hoping it would bring me some closure- or maybe more accurately some comfort or answers- because I just can't seem to shake this sadness that her death has brought. It's actually like our whole neighborhood is in a state of shock and mourning.

While it was comforting to come together with friends and support each other at this sad time, I left the service still haunted by the events of this past week, and now with a new sense of sadness because of the unforgettable sight of her husband and young children (especially her 8-year old daughter) following the pall into (and out of) the church, with such grief and pain in their faces. I don't think there are many things sadder than watching the young widower and children of a mother, and imagining what they face every morning when they wake up and realize that their wife and mother is no longer with them.

It's going to take a long time for the shock and sadness to wear off around here, but I do hope that the sense of gratitude that her death has brought sticks around for a long time. It's a crummy way to have to learn such an important lesson.

Heartbroken

2008-06-15T13:01:00.002-04:00

I have a neighbor, L, who I became friendly with a little over a year ago when she was expecting twins. They were "surprise" twins...she and her husband have two older children (one going into kindergarten and the other already in elementary school) and wanted a third but were going to have three and four. She was excited, though, and we spoke a few times about preparations for twins, joining our local Parents of Multiples club, etc. And then the unimaginable happened: she went in for her scheduled c-section, a few days after a regular check-up that showed both babies doing well, and there were no heartbeats. She lost both twins at term. It was my worst nightmare and I felt so heartbroken for her. I saw her about 6 months after their passing and she was pregnant again, this time with a singleton. She told me that they never found any reason for the twins' stillbirth, except that they were identical and there was a chance it was twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome that went undetected or occur ed so quickly that it couldn't have been caught. So she was somewhat relieved to be carrying "just one" and mentioned that she'd be monitored more carefully this time and the baby would be delivered early just to be safe.

Earlier this week another neighbor friend of mine told me that the baby-- a girl-- was born healthy but that L was in ICU, sedated, because she had some serious complications from the birth related to hemorrhaging. And a few minutes ago I got the call to tell me she had passed away. I am in shock and heartbroken once again. How can one family have to endure two tragedies like this in a lifetime, never mind the course of one year? How can a husband and children live a normal, happy life after something like this? What can anyone do to help them cope with the pain?

I feel helpless. We didn't know the family well, but enough that I want to do something, even if just a token gesture, to let them know that L will always be remembered and that they have a community that loves them to help them through this horrible time and beyond. Nothing anyone can do will bring L back, I know that. But is there something we can do to show our support?

The Highest Compliment

2008-05-17T21:30:00.002-04:00

Tonight we took all three kids out to a nice dinner...DH had gift cards that had been sitting around forever and today we just said "why not?" and decided to take the whole fam to dinner. We never really thought twice about bringing the kids- they are well-behaved and we enjoy taking them with us to restaurants. We went on the early side because it was the only reservation available and, we thought, more likely to be "family time." In fact, when we got there, we were the only party with young children in tow.

Towards the end of our dinner, two older women who had been dining near us stopped by our table and one of them said, "I just wanted to let you know the two of you are wonderful parents. It is so refreshing to see children so well-behaved in a nice restaurant." The way she said it (and just judging by appearance) I assume she is someone who probably cringed when she saw us coming in the restaurant and being seated near her table. Her comment nearly brought me to tears. I have never in my life received a higher compliment.

WWYD?

2008-05-09T22:33:00.003-04:00

This post has been sitting in my drafts waiting to be finished for a week now, so I have had some time to cool off but still feel angry about the whole situation...

I think I've vented about my sister-in-law before, but after what happened tonight at dinner, I feel a long-winded vent is well overdue and much needed if I want to be able to sleep tonight.

I'll start with the simple fact that I do NOT like my sister-in-law. I tolerate her because I love my husband and the rest of his family, and that means that I have to put a smile on my face and deal with her. I used to vent to DH about her, but I learned some time ago that it wasn't productive: while he agrees that his sister is more than a bit "off," you know the saying: blood is thicker than water, and when push comes to shove, it is still his sister. I think he used to be more "on my side" about the whole issue until she went through a "mental breakdown" about a year ago and she turned to him for support. He felt sorry for her (and probably a bit of pride in the fact that she trusted him enough to turn to him for support) and I saw a change in his attitude to much more defensive of her. When I'd make complaints about her, he'd say that I was only making the complaints because I didn't like her, and that in any other person I would tolerate or ignore the issue. I admit that I start with a bias because I JUST DON'T LIKE HER (for reasons I'll get into in a bit) but the issues I have are genuine and I'd have them with any of my friends if they acted like she does. I'd even have the issues with perfect strangers if they acted like she did.

In a nutshell, SIL is a self-absorbed know-it-all. Ask a question of someone at the dinner table with an area of expertise and she will pipe in with her "expert opinion" EVERY TIME, even if it's an issue she has no knowledge of and even if she is wrong. I think a lot of her personality stems from the fact that, based on what DH has told me about her teenaged years, she was shunned by the "in crowd" and in defense became "alternative" to convince herself and others that she didn't even want to be part of the in crowd. And then she went to law school, didn't do well and ended up never getting to practice law. She settled into policy work but lost about 5 jobs in the course of 3 or 4 years, from what I can tell due to the fact that she couldn't get along with her co-workers and many times couldn't do the work she was hired to do. So there seem to be a lot of insecurities there about being accepted and competent, and maybe her know-it-all attitude is part of that.

I will admit that a pivotal point in our relationship, and the point in time I think of as when I went from merely amused by her to actually disliking her, was at a dinner several years ago when DH and I were in the depths of fertility treatments. I think we had been through three or four rounds of IVF at the time and I was in a bad place myself. SIL is one of the "fertile myrtles" we all talk about, who has no clue (or at least doesn't act like she does) that it takes more than throwing away the BCP and one romp in the sack to get pregnant. Although I never talked to her directly about our struggles, she certainly knew about them. This particular night at dinner, DH leaned over to me about 15 minutes into the dinner and whispered a warning to me that his sister was pregnant. Sure enough, the waiter asks the table if they want wine and she says with much drama, "oh, no, I CANNOT drink wine tonight!" As in hint, hint, but I'm not coming out and saying it.

I appreciated DH's warning but it was too much for me, especially after the dramatic "I'm not drinking and everyone understands why but I'm not going to say it." I left the table and ended up in a sobbing mess in a bathroom stall. I can still remember the stall with vivid detail. I remember the horrible feeling with even more detail. After several minutes, I composed myself and came out of the stall to wash up and head back to the table. As I was washing up, who should happen to come into the bathroom but...you guessed it...SIL. She looked at me and said, "oh, I have to pee SOOOOO frequently...you know how it is." She knew at this point DH had told me she was pregnant. And the thought going through my head that I was too polite (because I'm a wuss) to say was "NO, B!TCH. I DO NOT KNOW HOW BADLY YOU HAVE TO PEE WHEN YOU ARE PREGNANT BECAUSE DESPITE THE FACT WE HAVE GONE THROUGH THREE FAILED CYCLES OF IVF, I HAVE YET TO EVEN EXPERIENCE A BFP." Instead, I mumbled something and headed out of the bathroom trying to hold back the sobbing that had I had just managed to stop moments before. Only now I was out in the open restaurant and couldn't even go back into my little stall to cry by myself.

So, needless to say, that moment sticks out as a defining moment in our relationship and shaped how I feel about her.

Regardless, even if things like this didn't happen, SIL is not someone I would have ever been friends with. She is a faux "intellectual" who talks about opera and international politics and art just to show off. She dresses funny. She has no girl friends (no friends at all, actually) except for two that live hundreds (one thousands) of miles away. She is a mommy's girl who is constantly whining to her "Mommy" (and yes, she calls her that in public.) In fact, she once had her mother come with her to a business conference because, in her words, "there's no way I could go on my own without my mommy!" (WTF?!) Mind you, she's a 36-year old mother of two. She immediately rubs people the wrong way when they meet her (my entire bridal party was ready to murder her after spending just 24 hours with her over our wedding weekend, and most of them had never met her before). I could go on and on with the stories about her troubling behavior. She's just not someone I'd ever spend time with if it weren't for the fact we are family.

Anyway, I have avoided up to this point any contact with her other than family gatherings. Unfortunately, DH's parents have a strong tradition of Friday night Shabbat dinners at their house (everyone is local) so I have spent almost every Friday night with her for the past 10+ years. And international vacations DH's family has been kind enough to take us on, until I drew the line and told him I just could not spend 24/7 in the same rented apartment as his sister. But again, I do it (1) because it's important to DH and (2) because I think it's special for our children to have a tradition of Shabbat dinners with their grandparents and extended family.

Tonight before dinner, DH was getting a bottle ready for the baby. Our son wanted to "help" and DH told him no, but he kept trying to reach for the bottle. SIL turns around, out of nowhere, and yells loudly, "NO!!!!" at our son. The look on his face made me want to cry myself- sheer confusion, then sadness, then the tears came. She scared the poor boy out of his mind. Immediately she knew what she did was wrong and out of line- MIL asked why our son was crying and she said "because I said something I shouldn't have." But no apology. I did everything possible to keep myself from knocking her upside the head (or at least screaming at her as loudly as she screamed at our son). I took our son aside and told her, "thank you, but I think we can handle discipline ourselves." I should have said so much more but I was so steaming mad and didn't want to say something I'd regret later.

This was all after I really made an effort to be cordial to her tonight-- asked her how her job was going, etc.-- but just like every other time I try to be nice and think that I can maybe even have a semblance of a relationship with her, she goes and does something like this.

I just don't know what to do. DH didn't bring it up after we left but was clearly annoyed with her. I've learned long ago not to talk about her to him because even though he recognizes she can be annoying, she is his sister, after all. And I just don't want to be the one pitting him against her. But what do I do- I have to see her almost every week, my MIL wants to get the kids together more often for playdates (I have some issues with her kids, too, namely they are starting to turn out like her but I do still love them), etc. Do I just continue to be cordial, but not friendly, and suck it up for the sake of DH? From my vantage point, that's my only option.

If you've made it this far, kudos to you. I needed to get this out and this post is mainly a venting mechanism. But if you've made it this far, what would you do?

Mother Runner

2008-04-22T13:03:00.002-04:00

First of all, thank you to everyone who chimed in with advice on the insurance/billing issue. I'm waiting to hear back from my letter to the billing office, but in the meantime I am going to get all of the records from my insurance company from that cycle and look into getting a RN case manager to help me untangle the mystery so I am prepared when the hospital comes back to me with an answer.

I just got back from my first trip away from all three kids- and really my first extended trip away at all since I've had kids- to return to Boston to run the 2008 Boston Marathon. For those unfamiliar with the world of distance running, Boston is like the Super Bowl of running. The Stanley Cup. The Olympics. Runners must qualify to run with a certain time except for a few runners who run for charity causes. Boston is not just a marathon- it is an experience. Running Boston has always been the highlight of my entire year. This was my fifth time running Boston but only my first since having children, and I have to say that this particular time was one of the most memorable experiences for me for a number of reasons.

First, my finishing time (three hours and sixteen minutes) was almost a personal record for me- I have only run two of my eleven marathons faster than that, and one was Chicago (which is fast and flat anyway) and the other was an earlier Boston that I finished only seconds faster than my time yesterday. I felt better through the run and feel better today (I honestly feel like I could go out for a run) than I can ever remember feeling after any marathon with the exception of the one I ran "slowly" to help pace my husband so he could finish in his own goal time of under four hours. I don't know if I should attribute that to better training- I ran much more in my training than I used to, especially because I knew after giving birth almost six months ago I couldn't rest on shoddy training- or if my body is somehow stronger now that I am older.

Or maybe it's the inspiration my children gave me on this run. Every time I thought of slowing down, I'd see little kids on the side of the road, offering their hand for a "high five," and I'd think of our twins saying "Mommy run" (that's what they say every time they see a runner out on the roads). I'd think of the day they'll come up to Boston with DH to cheer me on. And I'd run just a little faster. I'd feel a little stronger.

I was reading an article in the Marathon program about last year's Boston Marathon women's wheelchair champion, Wakako Tsuchida from Japan. Tsuchida had a child seven months before her victory in 2007 and felt that

"giving birth has made her body stronger. 'Being a mother an an athlete means so much to me. To succeed in both roles, I need to seek a balance. I find that I train harder so I can spend more time with my son.' She is not the only elite athlete and mother to suggest that having a baby improved her athletic performance. Paula Radcliffe, the world record-holder in the marathon, won last year's ING New York City Marathon seven months after giving birth to a daughter, and stated afterward that giving birth made her a better runner."

While I don't know if the physical act of giving birth (especially because my children were all born by c-section, so I can't claim that the pain of a marathon is nothing compared to vaginal delivery!) has made me stronger, I do think that living my life for my children has given me such a sense of purpose and determination that I have become more focused and balanced.

The second reason this was such a memorable trip was that it reminded me what it's like to be on my own schedule again. I hadn't realized how much I had forgotten what that was like until I actually had a weekend with no one to answer to but myself. I went to bed when I wanted to (sadly, that was 7:30 p.m. the first night I was there, as I had been up since 3:30 a.m.!), decided what activities to do during the day, left the hotel within five minutes of deciding I wanted to leave, walked as fast as I wanted, ate what I wanted (in peace!) and when I wanted. I hadn't done that in over two years and it felt so foreign.

I won't lie- I loved the freedom of being on my own for a weekend. But I also can't deny that I missed my family terribly. Every little kid I saw reminded me of our own. I watched, teary-eyed, as I saw other runners walking around over the weekend and after the race, with their children. I got choked up when I saw little kids holding signs that said "Go Mommy" or "Go Daddy." I talked about my kids (and DH!) to as many of the other runners who would listen. I called home A LOT.

Another reason this trip was special was that I had a chance to meet-- in person-- someone I consider one of my closest friends but who, amazingly, I had never met in person until this weekend. We met on an online infertility discussion board four years ago and she's been one of my biggest supporters and inspiration through everything we've gone through over the years. It was so special to be able to meet her (and her sweet and funny DH) in person. Giving her a hug was really a highlight of the weekend. I also got to meet up with another "online" friend (who I had met before when I went to run Boston in 2005) and a friend I used to work with while I was practicing law. Reconnecting with all of these friends reminded me how lucky I have been to have such amazingly strong, inspirational women in my life.

Over the weekend I thought a lot about the differences between the last Boston Marathon I ran in 2005 and this year's race. In 2005 we were in between our fourth and fifth round of IVF. The race was a way for me to recover a little bit of who I was before we started going through infertility hell. I was poorly trained (thanks to having gone through a cycle just a few weeks before the marathon and lots of extra pounds complements of the injectible meds) and in a very negative state of mind. It showed in my finishing time (the worst of all of my 11 marathons) and in my condition at the end of the race (barely in one piece). This time I was really at peace and in the "right place," both physically and mentally. It's amazing what a difference a few years can make.

Statute of Limitations?

2008-04-16T07:36:00.002-04:00

We finished the last of our five unsuccessful rounds of IVF with our local clinic almost three years ago in May of 2005. That's not counting the two IUIs we did before my RE convinced me I was such a "high responder" that it made more sense to move to IVF and not waste time on IUI. Five. Unsuccessful. Two of those with PGD that showed horribly messed up embryos (we're talking five of one chromosome, none of another, etc.) After which my RE told me the chances of me having a biological child with my own eggs was like "finding a needle in a haystack." And then proceeded to tell me that the Big Clinic we planned to go to for a second opinion (just to put our minds at rest that we did everything possible) would never accept us because I was too much of a "risk factor" to their statistics, given my horrible track record (Five. Unsuccessful. Remember?)

After we had success at Big Clinic, I tried not to dwell on the fact that we "wasted" SO much money at the local clinic before we went to Big Clinic. I justified it by telling myself that without the benefit of the hindsight of those five cycles, my RE at Big Clinic might not have been able to come up with the exact right protocol on the first shot. But it still made me shudder when I added up, mentally (and on our tax returns for purposes of medical expense deductions) how much we had spent. We were lucky enough to have some insurance coverage- 50% for most cycles- but with PGD and ICSI (not covered by insurance) we were easily out upwards of $50,000.

Last week in the mail I received a bill for $2,000 for a cycle from MARCH 2005. It's now April 2008. Trying to decipher the transactions on the bill, all I could make out was that even though the original charges were incurred in 3/05, something didn't happen with our insurance (an "adjustment"-- I am guessing that is their deduction for the agreed-upon price the clinic can charge according to my insurance company?) until March of this year.

My first reaction was rage. How can they send us a bill for a cycle from THREE YEARS AGO when we had checked numerous times after we left the clinic to make sure we had paid everything that was due? Luckily, I am pretty anally organized and had the paperwork on hand from that cycle, including an itemized statement showing that we paid a 50% co-pay of $3250 in addition to $5000 for PGD and $2000 for ICSI. Just looking at that statement- and all of the other statements in that pile of paperwork- made me want to throw up. If we had just a fraction of that money back today, it would seem like a fortune. At the time, I was working in a well-paid job and we could afford it, but now that I'm at home with the kids, money like that seems like an outrageous amount.

So of course I then spent the next several days gathering information, trying to get answers from the billing office, my clinic, and the insurance company. Each pointed to the other one-- "we don't know why you owe that amount-- check with [your insurance company, the billing office, the IVF clinic]." And it didn't help that the billing manager at the clinic ignored my phone calls until I sent an email, which I copied myself on in case I had to go to the doctor, which was my next step. She must have felt a little more accountable for a request that was in writing vs. my voice mails (no documentation) because she got back to me PDQ after I sent the first email.

From what I can tell (and this whole thing is so complicated and convoluted I really don't know which way is up any longer), they are claiming that the 50% co-pay the clinic charged us at the outset was not enough to cover the costs not covered by insurance, and that they did not get the final word from our insurance as to what it would cover until last month due to a lot of back-and-forth getting billing codes correct, etc. This is despite the fact that the policy of the clinic was to collect the full co-payment up front (after verifying with insurance how much I would owe) before the cycle. And despite the fact that we paid $10,250 for the cycle anyway. (OK, that makes me want to gag again. That was for ONE of our SIX cycles).

If anyone out there knows anything about medical billing and insurance reimbursement, do you have any insight into this? My response in the end was to mail the billing office a copy of the statement from our cycle- which showed that we paid the $3250 co-pay which was supposed to cover, among other things, the two services they are now billing for (retrieval and culture/fertilization) and requested a full explanation of why that co-pay did not cover what they are billing us for now and why it has taken three years for this charge to come to light. I want to put the burden on their shoulders to unravel this complicated web of insurance and medical charges because despite the fact I am an intelligent person (I'm actually an attorney- go figure...) I have NO idea why we're being charged for this now, or even if they can bring this up three years after the service. I have a sick feeling we're going to end up having to pay this in the end- to a clinic that basically kicked us out to the curb- but I'll fight it tooth and nail before we do.

Adjustments

2008-04-14T08:23:00.001-04:00

One thing I really wanted to know before Smiley arrived was what the addition of a new baby to our family would mean in terms of our day-to-day life and logistical reality. So in case anyone is reading this blog who is expecting a third very soon after their twins (or even expecting their second child soon after their first), here are the major adjustments we've had to adapt to and issues we've faced over the last several months:

Zone Defense vs. Man-to-Man: This is probably the single biggest adjustment. With two kids, I was easily able to transport and supervise them myself. When we went out as a family to gatherings, like neighborhood barbecues or birthday parties, generally DH or myself could keep an eye on the kids while the other one hung out with friends, grabbed something to eat and otherwise relaxed. Now outings look something like this: I take care of Smiley, holding her and/or feeding her if she is not sleeping in her carseat, which barely happens any longer now that she's almost six months old. DH keeps an eye on the twins, getting their food and drink, making sure they don't try to pull things down from a counter or eat something they shouldn't, changing poopy diapers, etc. So neither of us really gets a chance to just relax. I've seen DH step up a LOT more now because of this. Before, it was generally me doing all the work with the twins while he got involved in a conversation with a friend or grabbed a bite to eat. Now he's on full duty with either Smiley or the twins. However, it is getting easier as the twins get older and they're able to go off on their own and play. We actually let them go down in a basement playroom at a neighbors' house to play with the "big kids" on their own recently. I was going down every two seconds to check on them to make sure they were OK, but I think it's the start of them getting more independent, freeing us up to take turns with the baby. In fact, we left Smiley with her grandparents this weekend while we took the twins to a birthday party and as the twins played off on their own with their friends, I mentioned to DH that I was actually bored without Smiley to take care of!

Out and About: When I'm out and about on my own, it's a little trickier to transport three kids, especially when one is an infant. At first I was doing a lot of double stroller/baby bjorn combinations but that was waking Smiley up and let's just say Smiley wasn't so Smiley when it was time to put her back in the carseat. So we ended up buying this "freak show" of a stroller which allows me to put Smiley, in her carseat, into the stroller, while one twin sits in the other seat and the other stands on the back. You should see the looks we get when we use this stroller. I really like it despite the fact it's huge. I don't use it all that often because for short walks the twins can walk or I can take the double stroller, put Smiley in one side, a twin in the other, and have the second twin hold my hand while we walk; but for shopping trips when I just need to get everyone in and out quickly or for longer commutes, this stroller is worth it's weight in gold.

Different Ages, Different Stages: I honestly think that it is probably easier to have triplets than to have twins and a newborn, just because of the different needs of the two different age groups. Whereas the twins want me to sit down with them and read a book, wait while they sit on the potty (but of course not actually "go") or play with them outside, Smiley needs to have a bottle, take a nap, etc. If all three needed the same type of attention, it wouldn't be as difficult as giving the two age groups (toddler and infant) different types of attention. There is a sort of economies of scale with multiples. So often I find myself feeling bad that Smiley is sitting in the Exersaucer while I read the twins a story or serve them their lunch, or when the twins are left to play by themselves while I give Smiley a bottle (speaking of which, I ended up nursing for one month and then pumping and bottle feeding-- mostly because of time and efficiency issues-- until she was 4.5 months old). It's times like this that I am actually thankful I have TWO older kids, though, as at least they have a friend to play with while I am busy with the baby. I also realize I'd have these issues no matter if I had just one older child or two...it's simply an issue of different needs for different types of attention.

Scheduling: With a newborn/infant, scheduling is always tricky. Try synching that with the schedules of older twins. Luckily, for now at least, I think I've done a good job of coordinating Smiley's second nap of the day with the twins' one big nap of the day, typically (but not always) giving me one long stretch of time in the afternoon when all three kids are sleeping and I can get things done. But occasionally Smiley will wake up from her morning nap just in time for the twins to go down for their long nap. And you guessed it-- they are waking up from their nap just about the time she's going down for her second nap. I've figured out that if I keep Smiley awake by keeping her out and about in the mornings (which generally isn't difficult since we're always running around with the twins to their activities) I can usually sync their naps in the afternoon. Plus, I try to tweak her feeding schedule to fit into the twins' schedules. Usually it works, but it definitely takes some thought and coordination.

In general, though, now that we've gotten into a routine, things go pretty smoothly and it's fun having a baby around and watching the twins dote on their sister. I can tell already that the three of them are going to be VERY close, and it makes all of the work well worthwhile.

Re-Inspired

2008-04-13T20:02:00.003-04:00

OK, OK...I know it's been a very long time since my last post. And no, I really can't use the excuse of having three little ones for my utter lack of posting. First of all, ironically I no longer technically have "three under two," as our twins turned two years old at the end of March (!!!) Second of all, we've settled into a nice routine now that LS is 5 1/2 months old. Since she was about 4 months old, I've had my evenings back and can count on a pretty good night's sleep, as she goes down right before the twins around 7:00 and generally doesn't get up until somewhere between 5 and 7 a.m. I can't complain. I've had plenty of time to get back to my volunteer activities, train for my upcoming marathon and lurk on everyones' blogs...so I have been keeping up with everyone else and always feel guilty for neglecting my own blog! It's just that I had let so much time slip by it seemed kind of silly to pop back in and start posting again.

But today I met up with the Order of the Plastic Uterus, an AMAZING group of women. Even though I only knew one of the members in attendance in real life (the utterly inspirational and tireless Mel), I really felt like I had known everyone else for a lifetime. Maybe it's our shared experiences or maybe it's the fact that I've been following their blogs through Mel's blogroll (and LJ's blogroll of the members of the Order) but I left feeling like I had just caught up with a bunch of old friends. I also left feeling like it was unfair that all of these ladies had allowed me an intimate look into their lives through their blogs, but I didn't reciprocate by keeping up a blog of my own. Not that everyone (or anyone for that matter) should necessarily find my life captivatingly interesting, but it only seems fair that if I get to look into their lives, they should have the opportunity to look into mine. Same goes for all of the other bloggers with blogs I read all the time.

So I am making a resolution to start posting more regularly again now that we've settled into a nice groove as a family of five. Don't get me wrong- there was plenty of adjustment going on the first few months (which I'll be sure to blog about in the future). But now it feels like we always had three kids and I'm really enjoying watching LS (who, by the way, I think I'll start calling Smiley because that is much more fitting than LS, since this baby smiles almost ALL of the time) go through the stages that are sort of a blur for the twins.

Before I sign off today, I just have to add that I'm feeling extremely self-conscious after I got home from our gathering today and our older daughter, now just barely two years old, points at my (admittedly bloated from too many brownies and cheesecake) tummy and says "Baby?!!" DH did his best to hold back his laughter as I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. No, sweetie-- no baby, just what Mommy's tummy looks like after having three babies in the course of 19 months. You can thank me later.

Second Time Around

2007-11-16T12:47:00.000-05:00

Now that we've had a few days (two weeks to be exact) to settle in to our new "normal," I've been reflecting quite a bit on how different things are this time around. Talking to my friends who have more than one child (most who never struggled with infertility, granted), it seems like we all share the sense that things are much easier- and more relaxed- the second time around.

A friend of mine who has twin girls that just turned one is thinking of having a third and asked me if it's much easier with one. I told her that it is much easier, but I'm not sure if it's a function of having "just one" or if it is because I'm no longer a first time mother.

With the twins, everything seemed overwhelming at first, in particular my attempts to nurse them. I will never forget the endless days and nights where I felt like I did nothing but try to nurse one, then supplement that one with formula, then try to nurse the other and supplement that one with formula, THEN pump to try to get breast milk to feed by bottle later. By the time that whole cycle was done, it was time to feed again. Even though I gave up nursing after about a week at home, I kept up the pumping and pumped 7-8 times a day after feeding both babies. Not only was it time consuming, but I felt like such a failure for not being able to do what my body should do naturally. My mother-in-law is a pediatrician, so the pressure from her (subtle, but definitely there!) was unbearable. DH was wonderfully understanding, telling me to do whatever made me the happiest, but I still couldn't accept the fact that I had failed- yet again- at something I should be able to do.

This time around I decided to give nursing a try while I was in the hospital, but had pretty much resigned myself to formula feeding once we got home. In fact, I felt sort of proud of the fact that I wasn't going to let myself feel sorry for not nursing this time. I pictured myself telling my mother-in-law and the lactation consultants at the hospital, "Thanks for your advice, but we have chosen the best option for ourselves and our family, and it is a personal decision I hope you will respect." After all, I definitely don't feel that feeding a baby formula, even exclusively, is harmful. While breast milk may be "best" by certain standards, I really think that genetics and family health history also play a much more significant role in the health and development of a child. I always say that I was formula fed and DH was breast fed (albeit for only a few months, which I didn't find out until way after I felt guilty for letting my MIL down...) and I have far fewer health problems and allergies than DH does. So I'm a shining example that formula-fed babies don't have to be less healthy than those who are breast fed :)

So imagine my surprise when LS actually gained weight in the hospital before we left, and the pediatrician at the hospital told me that he hardly ever sees that happen, that nursing must be working really well for us. And imagine my further surprise at LS's two week pediatrician appointment yesterday when we found out she not only surpassed her birth weight but passed it significantly. Whereas babies should be gaining an ounce a day at this point, she gained two ounces a day. And she hasn't had a bottle yet- I've been nursing exclusively (now there are two words I never thought I'd use in a sentence when talking about me and one of my children).

I think a big part of our success this time is that I am much more laid-back than the first time around. Having the attitude that at any time I can stop and switch to formula if necessary, and that I won't be a failure because of it, really took the pressure off. I'm also not so worried that my baby will waste away if nursing doesn't work...I realized that if she was losing weight, I'd just simply supplement with formula and all would be well. With the twins, I got freaked out that they were losing too much weight- in part because the nurses at the hospital made me freak out- and immediately doubted my ability to nourish them with my own body. Of course, it doesn't hurt that this time around there was "just one" to feed, whereas last time there were two!

So I think that my whole experience with nursing mirrors my entire approach to parenting this time around- more laid-back, recognizing that there is no "right" or "wrong" way of doing things. It's OK if the baby cries for a few minutes while I get the twins settled in with their breakfast or snack. It's OK if I can't spend every moment doing productive activities with her in an effort to make sure her little brain develops correctly. It's OK if I take a few minutes for myself. I don't think that any of this has to do with having "just one" this time- although the extra sleep at night does help!- but I do think that it's a factor of having the perspective, and hindsight, that comes the second time around.

Birth Story, Part 2

2007-11-10T13:35:00.000-05:00

LS is napping now, but the twins are due to be up any second...let's see how much more of the birth story I can get down before they're awake.

So the first spinal didn't take. My doctor wisely advised me that as horrible as it sounded (and as I indicated by the tears rolling down my face as I realized the first one hadn't taken), it would be "better in the long run" if we "got it right" with a second try. I fully agreed- the last thing I wanted to do was feel anything related to the actual cutting! My hot-shot anaesthesiologist called in his colleague, who was scheduled to attend the next c-section, to give it a shot (no pun intended). In the meantime, he had tried again, which involved about 10 more shots of the topical numbing medication and at least two tries with the big needle going into my spine. All the while, I'm holding on to one of the nurses (I think she was a nurse) for dear life, shaking uncontrollably, either from fear or the large amount of anaesthesia I already had injected.

After what seemed like forever (turned out to be about 45 minutes after the ordeal started), the second doctor got the shot in the right spot and I was laid back down to let it take effect, hopefully. Luckily, when they tested me again I couldn't feel a thing. And from there on out, things went smoothly- and quickly. I did have a bit of nausea but the (new) anaesthesiologist put something in my IV that helped within a few minutes. DH was allowed back into the room as the surgical team prepared to cut, and within five minutes the doctor told DH to get his camera ready for the first shot of his daughter.

A few things I feel I should mention about the surgery itself- first, unlike the twins' birth (which was at a different hospital), DH was allowed to watch, and take still pictures, of anything he felt like watching. With the twins, he had to wait until the babies were born and then he could only take pictures of them- not of anything "behind the magic curtain" (i.e., my blood and guts). So whereas our first pictures of the twins are in an isolette as they were cleaned off, our first picture of this baby is her head emerging from the incision in my stomach. I'd share, but I'm not quite sure how many people want to see that image. The next shot is my first view of LS- and again, unlike the hospital where the twins were born, when I wasn't even able to see the twins until after they were checked out and cleaned up (in fact, my first image of them was not live but on the digital camera after DH took pictures of them and came back to show me as I was being stitched up), this time our wonderful doctor held LS up above the curtain so I could see her.

A second memorable fact about the surgery was that the doctors were all remarking about how little fat I have. I definitely don't mean to brag (and trust me- my stomach muscles and skin are so out of shape it doesn't really matter that I have little fat under it) but it was sort of gratifying, in a sick and twisted way, to hear someone actually looking at my insides that I have little fat, at least in my belly area.

Another interesting fact was how many people there were in the OR with me- I think DH counted at least 12 at one point, including my doctor, the anaesthesiologist, a neonatologist (a surprise since LS was term), and a host of nurses. I was surprised that there were so many people at a "normal" birth- I had expected it with the twins, but certainly not this time.

We had not found out the gender of this baby during my pregnancy, but as I've mentioned before, I felt strongly it was a boy. My official guess was a boy, 7 lbs. 2 oz. Well, so much for motherly instinct: obviously, it was a girl, and she was 7 lbs. 12.7 ounces. For the record, DH guessed girl, 7 lbs. 12 oz, so chalk one up for him!

Another surprise was the fact that LS has a full head of dark hair, unlike our twins who had very little hair and what they did have was light. I still remember the doctor saying, when he saw LS's head (but nothing else yet), "I'm not sure if it's a girl or a boy, but whatever it is has a head of dark hair!" My first reaction was "is he talking to me?" It's still a shock to see one of our children with dark hair, especially because DH is extremely fair and I was born with light hair. However, if anything, LS looks more like me than DH, which again is a surprise because our twins look so much like him. It also made me feel proud and particularly attached to LS right away, as I feel like I finally have a child who looks like me. And even though I didn't think I'd cry when LS was born, I bawled plenty of tears when I heard her cry and saw her face for the first time. For all my thinking it was a boy, and for all my worries about being able to love three children equally, there was no doubt that the moment I heard her voice, I was in total love with our new daughter.

As LS was weighed and cleaned, I was stitched up in what seemed like just a few minutes (I think it was more like a half hour, though). DH brought LS over to my side so that I could see her, and I remember one of the nurses telling me it was OK to touch her so I guess I was hesitant, or maybe feeling too constricted in the position I was in for surgery, to reach out to her. I just remember marveling at how surreal it felt to finally meet the little person who was inside me for so long, how we finally had a face (and a gender!) to put with the movements. I had said several times the night before and the morning of the surgery how I just couldn't picture how our family would look a few hours later- would we have two boys and a girl or two girls and a boy, and what would this baby look like? Now I had my answers, and everything seemed to fall into place.

After I was wheeled out of the OR, I was taken to a recovery area where I was told I'd stay for a couple of hours. I had some bad bouts of nausea, which were effectively treated with some meds in my IV. A nurse came in shortly thereafter to take LS for her first bath and to be checked out by the neonatologist. The neonatologist determined that LS was breathing rapidly, likely because of the fluid still in her lungs because she was born by c-section. She explained that they would monitor her for the few hours I was in recovery and if she did not improve by the time I was transferred to my room, she would go to the short-term (4 hour) NICU, and if she still didn't improve after that 4-hour stay, she would go to the NICU. I felt my first wave of panic- again, while I expected these sorts of issues to come up with the twins (none ever did, thankfully), I never expected them to come up with a full-term singleton.

Luckily, LS's breathing slowed down enough for her to go to my room with me when I was finally transferred. It was still rapid- in the 70's whereas normal range is 30-60, but over the next few hours it slowly came down to the 60's and then into the 40's. The only other issue the neonatologist spotted was some clicking in her hips, another issue that would seem to resolve itself by the time we left the hospital.

Our visitors arrived later in the afternoon, with my father coming first, followed by my sister and her husband, and then my father-in-law (our mothers were with the twins). I most anticipated having the twins come visit- I missed them a lot and just wanted to see their faces. After what seemed like forever (they had to take a nap and then eat lunch before leaving for the hospital), they finally arrived with our mothers and two "It's a Girl" balloons that they told me were for the baby. We spent the afternoon with our families, with me drifting in and out of sleep and and having a couple of episodes of nausea/vomiting from the anaesthesia.

Because of her rapid heartrate, the doctors and nurses asked me to hold off on trying to nurse LS until much later in the day. I was already apprehensive about trying to nurse- it wasn't quite smooth sailing with the twins (in fact, it was the most frustrating issue of the entire first few weeks of their existence) so I had already resigned myself to bottle feeding this new baby. Much to my surprise, however, she took to nursing pretty easily and although she lost weight at first, she actually gained a few ounces before we left the hospital. I have been taking it day by day, telling myself I can always go to formula if necessary, but so far I haven't even given her a bottle of expressed breast milk (ok, once I gave her a few sips just to see if she'd take a bottle). This has come as a complete surprise to me, as I really never expected to nurse this baby. We'll see how things go once DH goes back to work and I'm on my own with the twins, but for now I'm content with nursing and feeling rather confident that it's worked so well so far. After such a horrible experience with the twins, I've been pleasantly surprised to see myself able to make it work this time.

There are many other differences between the early days of LS's life and that of the twins (or at least my memory of it), but that post will have to wait for another day. For now I'm going to take advantage of the few hours of quiet I hope to have as the twins nap and LS sleeps after her last feed.

Birth Story- Part 1

2007-11-08T10:04:00.000-05:00

I only realized during LS's birth how much of the twins' birth story I had forgotten, so before any more time goes by (and while DH has the twins at their once-weekly Mommy- or Daddy- and Me nursery school program and LS sleeps), I want to get down as much of LS's birth story as I can remember.

The night before the birth was, of course, Halloween, my most loved and anticipated holiday. We spent much of the day as a family- DH came home early from work and we took the twins out to run some last minute errands as well as to a local Halloween festival for kids. On the way home, we picked up pizza for the four of us and my parents, who came by at dinner time to see the kids off and hand out candy while we trick-or-treated. We schlepped the kids out around our neighborhood, which gets VERY into the Halloween spirit. Our duaghter lapped it all up- she immediately got the hang of asking for candy (and saying thank you!) at every house, and laughed at even the scariest of decorations and costumes. Our son, on the other hand, already the more sensitive of the two kids, was a bit more skeptical. He was OK until the kid with the three-headed costume came out of a house, and then he clung to me like super glue. Needless to say, I probably carried more toddler than I should have, for longer than I should have. By the time we got home I had excruciating pain in my round ligament/groin area. Nothing I thought was labor (it was more muscular than contraction-like) but it made me realize that going into labor at that point would have actually been a good thing. First of all, I had been off of my blood thinner (in anticipation of the next morning's surgery) for the required 24 hours; secondly, if I went into labor, I could avoid a c-section.

In the end, it didn't matter because I was NOT in labor, just a lot of discomfort, which prevented me from sleeping a lot of the night. I fell asleep at about 11:00 p.m. and woke up at 3:00, unable (for a number of reasons) to fall back to sleep. I thought a lot that night and early morning about how much our lives were about to change, and was emotional at the thought of leaving our twins while I was in the hospital. Finally, at 3:30 I got up and showered to get ready for the day. We had planned to wake up at 4:30, anyway, so I was just about an hour ahead of schedule.

DH's mom arrived at our house at 5:15 in the morning (because my own parents, who live just a mile away, refuse to do anything before 8:30 or 9:00 a.m., but that's a whole different story...) She took some pictures- one of me as my "last picture before delivering" (she took the same picture before I delivered the twins) and one with me and DH. Looking at those pictures I realized how much smaller I really WAS (even if it didn't feel that way) then with the twins. After some last minute instructions, it was off to the hospital. I was sad leaving before I could say good morning to the twins, but also didn't want to risk waking them by going into their rooms before we left.

We arrived at the hospital about 15 minutes ahead of schedule at 6:00 a.m. There was no one at the admissions desk at the L&D unit, which made me wonder- what if someone had come in in active labor? We waited for at least 20 minutes before anyone came out to discover me waiting (DH had gone to the bathroom, of course, right as someone finally came out). I was admitted quickly and met my prep nurse, Paulette, who took me back to the pre-op preparation room before DH even came out of the restroom (he caught up to us while I was changing into my robe in the bathroom). Pre-op seemed to go by quickly- before I knew it, it was 7:00, just 45 minutes before my scheduled c-section. We went through all of the standard admission questions, which I seem to remember from the twins' birth. A few memorable interactions happened during pre-op: a nurse questioned Paulette's entry of "P2 G3" in the computer, indicating it was my second pregnancy but third child. Paulette explained (as did everyone else during my hospital stay any time they said "P2 G3") that I had twins at home...and of course added, for emphasis, that they were just 19 months old. This small fact seemed to make me a superstar at the hospital.

Another interesting incident that happened during pre-op was the fact that we had several "observers." The first was a student nurse who I would come to know well during my stay, and I didn't mind having her observe at all. In fact, I was her first c-section and she kept thanking me for letting her be a part of such an important part of our lives. The second, though, was a (seemingly) random guy who came into the pre-op room in scrubs. I think he got off on the wrong foot with me with one of his first questions- when he heard I had twins at home, and that they were boy/girl twins, he asked me if they were identical or fraternal. One of my pet peeve questions- when someone asks me that question, their perceived level of intelligence in my head goes WAY down. Now maybe that's unfair- if I didn't have boy/girl twins, maybe I'd fail to understand that to be identical, twins must be identical in ALL OF THEIR PARTS too, but I really didn't like this guy from the get-go. It turns out he was from the local fire department, where they send trainees to the hospital to watch operations so that they get used to seeing blood and guts. Now I'm all for supporting our local fire department, but I really didn't see the need for this guy (who was already making stupid comments) to watch MY blood and guts along with the 12+ other people who would be in the operating room. When Paulette asked me (in private) if I minded having him observe, I told her he could observe the pre-op procedures but that I would prefer he didn't come into the operating room. I felt a little badly, but it was also my prerogative to limit the number of "observers" in the OR, and if anything went wrong I wanted fewer people in the way.

While in the pre-op room, my doctor came to talk to me along with the anaesthesiologist. I really do love my doctor- this isn't' the one I had planned to have do my c-section, but he's one of my favorites in the practice anyway and just a really great guy. After the necessary preparations were taken, including inserting my IV (one of my biggest fears but Paulette did a great job) and shaving "down there," I was walked into the OR next door. The anaesthesiologist prepped me for my spinal, which unbeknown st to me at the time would become the most trying experience of my entire delivery.

To start out with, the idea of a needle going into my spine is NOT my idea of fun. However, when I had my c-section with the twins, it was a relatively easy and unpainful process. That time, however, I had an epidural with a spinal IN the epidural (in other words, a tube in my back that fed both the epidural meds and the spinal meds into my back). That was a different hospital, though, with different protocols, and at this hospital the protocol for c-sections is a spinal only, which means a shot into the spinal fluid (no tube inserted). I knew there was trouble when the anaesthesiologist seemed to have to try several times to get the needle in the right spot. Luckily this was after he had given me a few shots of local anaesthesia so I didn't feel it that much, but I was still uncomfortable. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he thought he got the meds in the right spot (and in fact told me that with spinals, you know for sure because some of the spinal fluid comes back in the syringe- nice image, thanks). However, when I laid down and was tested several minutes later for numbness, it was obvious the spinal had not taken.

LS is fussing...the rest of this story is going to have to wait until later...guess this is the story of my life from now on :)

Quick Update

2007-11-04T20:50:00.001-05:00

Just a quick update- first of all, thanks to Mel for the shout-out in her Friday Blog Round-Up. I feel like a celeb for even being mentioned :)

So we now have answers to a lot of the questions I had in my last post: first of all, it was a girl, a beautiful, 7 lb. 12.7 oz. girl who I'll call "Little Sister" (or LS) for purposes of this blog, at least until I come up with a more apt nickname. Unlike her older siblings, LS has a full head of dark hair, which was quite a shock. So far, she's amazingly easy- but then again, I think all babies are pretty easy at this stage (eat, sleep, excrete, repeat...)

The birth itself was pretty smooth and uncomplicated, except for the little issue of the spinal, which took one hour, two tries, and a second doctor to complete...not something I ever want to repeat in my life. However, the recovery so far has been much easier than I remember it being with the twins. I'll post the full birth story when I get a few minutes to reflect- hopefully sooner rather than later as I don't want to forget the small details like I seem to have done with our twins birth!

The hospital stay was wonderful- I really enjoyed bonding with LS and even though I missed our twins sorely, they did come to visit and I could still appreciate having the time to myself (and LS) at the hospital.

Most surprising, I am nursing LS exclusively so far and doing well, if I may say so myself. Nursing was my nightmare issue with the twins- by far the one issue that made me most miserable- so I am shocked (pleasantly) at the ability to do this- successfully it seems- so far. She lost a little weight the first two days in the hospital (nothing to be alarmed about, though) and then GAINED the last day we were there. Even the pediatrician said that was not routine, and must mean that she's thriving on my breast milk. I still have to stifle a laugh when I hear people say things like that- I can't believe they are talking to me. I'm taking it a day at a time- I know things can change, especially now that I'm home and real life (vs. life in the hospital, with all the time in the world) kicks in. But for now we're making it work, me and little LS.

The twins have been such troupers and seem to love their LS already. I'm SO proud of them. My heart was so filled with pride, love and joy tonight when we got home and the five of us were sitting around, enjoying life as a new family, that I almost started crying. What a different experience from when we got home from the hospital with the twins and my crying was more out of frustration and a feeling of ineptitude. Again, I know there will be frustrating times ahead, but for now I'm just basking in this beautiful feeling and appreciating the many blessings we've been given.

Musings on the Day Before...

2007-10-31T13:36:00.000-04:00

Well, technically it's not the day before- it's two days before (or about 42 hours, but who's counting?) but I figured I should start this post today because the next few days are going to be hectic, especially with Halloween tomorrow.

Everyone keeps asking me, "So, are you ready?" I was definitely ready with the twins- after all, I had been sitting around for months on end, obsessing about a healthy outcome, and, towards the end, feeling VERY uncomfortable. I also had no idea what was about to hit me (namely, a couple of months- luckily only a couple- of sleep deprivation, mood swings, and the general feeling of total ineptitude). This time I'm in a happy place right now- we're in a great routine, I feel like I have my act together, I'm not in too much discomfort from the pregnancy itself....and frankly, I'm NOT looking forward to the first few weeks- the recovery, the hospital stay, the sleep deprivation.

Don't get me wrong- I am very excited to add to our family and if this baby brings even a fraction of the joy that our twins have brought to our lives, it will be more than enough to offset the initial "unpleasantries" of caring for a newborn. It's just that I hate change, and this is a big change. Once I get into a new routine and learn how to manage with three kids instead of just two, we'll be golden. But that unknown looms out there and without a crystal ball to tell me that things will be just fine, even more wonderful than I can imagine, I can't help getting nervous.

In the meantime, we're staying very busy trying to jam every ounce of quality time into these last few days. Lots of Halloween festivities, play dates, classes, running errands. It's certainly making this week go by a little too fast.

There's not much left to do in terms of preparation. Consistent with the Jewish superstition of not setting up much (if anything) in the house for a new baby ahead of time, we haven't really set up the room but everything is ready to go once the baby is born. Unlike last time when I wouldn't even allow anything baby-related into the house, I do have everything we'll need when we get home from the hospital on hand and organized. One of the most disconcerting feelings last time was coming home to a house that wasn't ready for our babies. My mother and mother-in-law attempted to organize things (wash and put away clothes, stock the supplies, etc.) but I had no idea where anything was and that just made me feel more inept and out of control. This time I'm at least getting somewhat prepared, if not totally set up.

I'm spending a lot of time trying to picture this baby and our new life with three kids. Whereas with the twins we knew we were having a boy and a girl, this time we've saved the gender as a surprise so I can't even picture that aspect of this baby. My gut says a boy- mainly because the heartrate has always been on par with what our son's was while in utero- but DH is guessing a girl. I wonder if I'm going to be totally thrown off if it's a girl. I know it's obviously a strong possibility, but I have just been assuming it's a boy for so long it will be somewhat of a surprise if it's a girl. I also wonder if this baby will look like either of our twins (who looked very different from each other) or if it will look more like me than either of them do. Will this baby be a "good" baby, sleeping well and easy to please, or, G-d forbid, will it be a difficult baby? Our twins were SO good- I feel like I'm due for a difficult baby. Hoping that's not the case, though.

What will I be like with this baby? Will I be more laid-back than with our twins? Will the crying bother me less? Will I want to lavish as much attention on this baby as I did with our twins, or will I even be able to if I want to? Is this baby going to end up watching the world go by from his/her carseat carrier while his/her older siblings partake in their activities?

I guess we'll know the answer tomorrow. Everything that needs to be done is done- preliminary blood work and pre-registration at the hospital, instructions left with both sets of parents (who will be caring for the twins while we're at the hospital tomorrow), the house is in as much order as it's going to be in. Stay tuned to find out what life is really like with three under two.

Just What the Doctor Ordered!

2007-10-25T21:04:00.000-04:00

During my twin pregnancy, I couldn't eat a bite of sweets- which is VERY odd for me, since I could practically live on sweets in my non-pregnancy state. Much to my relief, my love of sweets came back after I gave birth to our twins and during this pregnancy it actually intensified. So imagine my luck to have signed up with Mel's awesome Candy Exchange Program (now there's a girl after my own heart!) and to have been matched with Rebecca from the UK.

Yesterday afternoon I was having particularly strong cravings for chocolate but there wasn't too much in the house- some chocolate ice cream, but what I really wanted was the good stuff. Imagine my happiness when the post woman dropped off a box mid-afternoon, just as my craving was peaking:

First of all, isn't it cool how it says "Royal Mail"? Something about that made me giddy- imagine me, getting some "Royal Mail." But even better was what was inside when I opened the box:

Oh. My. Gosh. Can I just say how much Rebecca ROCKS? All of the "sweets" are amazing- and yes, I've taste-tested everything already. My favorite so far is the Milky Bar, a "kids chocolate" (actually white chocolate). But the chocolate creams are really good too- Rebecca described them as "unusual, but okay in small doses." Well, chocolate and "small doses" don't go in the same sentence with me, no matter how rich- so an entire bar is gone already. Luckily she sent me several :)

So a big THANK YOU to Rebecca and to Mel for putting together this exchange that has brought so much happiness to my heart (and my stomach). And even better- in the process, I've made a new friend who loves sweets as much as I do!

In other news, things here are good- and we're currently at T-minus a week and counting. I have such mixed emotions- on the one hand, I'm eager to meet the newest addition to our family and to get rid of this ever-expanding belly. On the other hand, I know that this baby is a LOT quieter and easier to take care of inside of me than it is going to be outside of me. I'm also a little sad at the thought of it not being "just the four of us" (or during the day, just the three of us). I've found myself sitting with both kids in my lap, getting teary-eyed at the thought of having to divert any attention away from them...not to mention not being able to fit all of my kids in my lap at once, since I can't imagine fitting three kids on my lap at the same time! I know I am going to love this baby just as much as I love our twins, but a small part of me is grieving the fact that we won't have this time again, and that they won't remember what it was like without a sibling. Maybe that's a good thing- I want them to be close to the new baby- but it's also bittersweet that we've had such a special 19 months together and they'll never remember a thing about it.

Ahhh...better get to bed before the hormones (and the rest of Rebecca's box of chocolate and candy) gets the best of me...

Almost There...

2007-10-18T20:58:00.000-04:00

I'm still here, and still alive (and well!) It's been a long two weeks, but the kids have continued to behave beautifully (OK, I'll admit there have been a few brief interludes of difficult behavior, but nothing to complain about) so it hasn't been as hard as I was expecting. Of course, the following day after I posted my last post our daughter decided it would be fun to throw a fit in the bookstore after I wouldn't allow her to take the book she had in the car (which came FROM that bookstore) in with us, for the obvious (to me at least) reason that it would look like we were stealing the book when we left with it. For the first time that I can remember, I got looks that said "I'm so glad I'm not that woman with the screaming little girl and another baby on the way." Or maybe they were saying, "Lady, if you can't even control your little girl, what business to do have giving birth to yet ANOTHER little brat?" Whatever...it only lasted a few minutes and eventually she calmed down enough to be presentable in public.

And then there was the bright idea I had of having some of my neighbor friends over for a pizza dinner. It started out innocently enough- their husbands were out of town, too, and gee, while I'm at it why don't I invite a few other neighbors and their kids over too? So we ended up with five adults and TEN children, six of whom were "older" (2-4 years old) boys with enough energy to tear our basement to pieces. Two of them are the sons of my friend and neighbor who I personally really like but am amazed at the difficulty she finds in controlling her kids, especially the older one. I swear- I really do adore this woman and think she is an intelligent person who I can relate to-- I consider her a good friend...but I just don't get her parenting philosophy. When her older son acts out (and I mean really acts out- not the typical 4-year old tantrum) she says,"wow- what am I going to do when he's 14 years old and yelling 'f-you' at me?!" Umm, am I the only one who sees something totally backwards with that statement? I am really the last one to judge others on their parenting decisions- everyone has to do what works best for them- but sometimes I find it hard to see the logic behind certain approaches.

Anyway, needless to say that one night beat me to a pulp and even though my friends were all extremely helpful (most stayed to help clean up and offered to do anything necessary to help me out a bit-- more than I can say for my own family sometimes!), I was already feeling run down that day and the dinner experience just did me in. Lesson learned. What I was thinking when I decided to have everyone over after an already tough (physically draining) day, I'll never know.

So, you see, it's not all roses and smiles, but again, I have little to complain about. I love spending the time with the kids and we've done a lot of really fun activities we probably wouldn't have done if I wasn't on my own with them all day- dinner with friends, extra play dates, etc. I'm kind of going to miss this time after the new baby comes. Which for those of you keeping track is just two weeks from today. When I have more energy and more time (hubby gets home tomorrow night and no more plans to travel in the immediate future!!!) I'll get into how I'm feeling now that we're SO close. For now, it's off to bed...

Off to a Good Start

2007-10-05T20:06:00.001-04:00

I'm feeling a lot more confident today and less stressed about the prospect of being on my own for most of the next few weeks. Today was a good day, though-- everything just seemed to fall into place and the kids were so well-behaved I'm even afraid to mention it, lest I jinx myself for the next 13 days.

We started out the day with an impromptu get-together with a bunch of neighbors whose kids had the day off from nursery school because of the Jewish holiday of Simchat Torah. I had mentioned to one of my neighborhood friends that my husband would be out of town, and she immediately asked if we'd like to join her and our other neighbor/friend since they already had plans to get together because of the holiday/lack of school to keep the kids busy. It turned into a much bigger gathering, but it was great- my kids had a "new" place to play (our friends' playroom), friends to keep them busy, and I got a few good hours with my friends. It was a great way to spend the morning before we came home for a nice long(ish) nap. And it was heartwarming to see our kids playing with their friends, and also to know that MY friends were looking out for me and trying to keep us occupied.

The kids were great during and after lunch. We had to run to the post office and grocery store, and they were perfect angels, even hugging each other and laughing in their stroller. It was like they were showing off: "look, Mommy, we're going to be SOOOOO perfect today!" Passer-bys couldn't help but smile and several complimented me on how happy and well-behaved our children are.

After lunch and errands, my father came by to play with the kids and give me a little break. They were running around the house, hysterically laughing and playing with each other. I planned to go to the gym while my dad was here, but by the time he got here it was late and we had plans to go out to dinner when my mom got home from work, so I figured I'd just rest for a bit and take a shower. I ended up falling asleep for over a half hour (guess I was more tired than I thought I was).

When my mom got here after work, we took the kids to a nearby kid-friendly restaurant and again, they were perfect- they sat sweetly for a half hour while we placed our orders and waited for our meals, and then cleaned their plates. A family next to us had a newborn baby and our kids kept waving and saying "hi, baby!" Again, we got a lot of compliments on how well-behaved the kids were, and my parents couldn't stop talking about how wonderful they are. Not that our kids are usually poorly behaved (in fact, I'm pretty proud of how good they are, especially out in public), but I was just thinking all day, "this is too good to be true- when will I get at least a little bit of bad behavior?" Someone must be looking out for me today, because it never happened.

I wonder if somehow they know that Mommy just needs a break for the next few weeks. Whatever the reason, it's interesting how one day like this can make me feel like Supermom again. And I know how one day in the opposite direction can make me feel like the most inept mother in the world. I'm just hoping that we have more days like today and fewer- or NO- days in the opposite direction!

Sucking it Up

2007-10-03T20:50:00.000-04:00

Oh, my. So I was looking forward to a nice long weekend, as my husband has Monday off for Columbus Day (which I've always found to be an odd holiday, but whatever...) I was especially excited because he was going to get to come to the kids' gym class on Monday morning; not only would he get to see how much they enjoy the class, but I'd have an extra set of hands to help chase them around the room, which is getting a little bit harder as I get bigger and bigger.

Today we found out that his grandmother, who lives in Germany, is headed downhill quickly. This woman is amazing and I've always found her inspirational- she is 94 years old, but until the past few years, she had more energy and spunk than most of my 30-something friends. I remember when I first met her about 10 years ago, when she'd come visit my husband's parents and stay here for a month or two, how she'd go out on her own to sight see, taking public transportation all on her own. She'd complain about the "old fogies" at her retirement home in Germany, and how no one ever wanted to go out on the town and have fun with her. She'd entertain us with stories from her younger days when she was wild and crazy (and quite progressive). She speaks at least four languages that I know of, and probably understands a whole lot more. In brief, she's an impressive woman with an unbeatable spirit.

Until a few weeks ago. She was sick and had to spend time in the hospital, and after that her fire just seemed to die. She told my father-in-law (her son) that this was the end of the line for her. While I'm used to hearing that type of talk from my own grandmother (who is convinced every malady is "it" for her), hearing it from my husband's grandmother was really disconcerting, just because she's always been so full of determination.

Since her episode in the hospital, she's been pretty much despondent. Apparently it's gotten so bad that she is not eating, drinking or responding to anyone, including her son. So my father-in-law is headed to Germany to see her, and my husband and his sister decided that they should go too. My husband was hesitant to go and leave me (his eight+ month pregnant wife) but I told him he needed to go. I would hate to be the reason he didn't get one final visit with his grandmother- how could I (or he?) ever live with that? So he's headed off to Germany tomorrow evening until Monday afternoon.

Typically, it wouldn't be an issue- I've been with the kids on my own for as much as a week before, and although it's exhausting, I can do it. I have plenty of family and friends to step in and give me a little break if I need it, but I usually like to do it all on my own (typical Supermom mentality...and my stubborn nature). However, this time he'll be coming home only to leave the next day for a business trip. And once he gets back from that, he turns around four days later to leave for another trip. So that means he'll be gone for ten of the next fourteen days.

I'd like to think I'll be fine, and under most "normal" circumstances (read: not 35 weeks pregnant), I could do it with ease. And I'm so stubbornly independent that typically I wouldn't even accept any offers of help. But I'm a little nervous this time, and it's the first time I've felt such trepidation at having him leave. This is actually the first time I've turned to my parents and asked them for help while he's gone. Usually I tell them not to worry, I'll be fine on my own, and they take that literally and stop by for maybe 20 minutes, but that's the extent of their assistance. This time I'm going to have to learn to suck it up and ask for help, because I just don't know if I can make it through the next two weeks without asking for a helping hand. That means not only my parents, but my sister, my mother-in-law (and trust me, accepting her help is VERY difficult for me), and anyone else I can find. Hopefully I can spread the weight around so that I don't have to impose too much on any one person.

Honestly, I think the hardest part about the next two weeks is going to be letting myself accept help. But if I don't, I'm afraid that I'll be so beat by the end that I could end up hurting my own--or worse, this baby's- health. So I'll be sucking it up, and hoping the next two weeks go by very quickly.

Run Ragged

2007-10-01T12:44:00.000-04:00

I'm beat. But I can't stop running around like a crazy woman- I honestly feel like I am on speed or something and I don't know why.

During the course of the last week, I've been out every evening for some volunteer activity or another (ok, one night was our monthly Girls Night Out, so not "work," but still out late and tiring!) I have spent about 10-12 hours devoted to our parents of multiples club (we had our semi-annual sale this past weekend and I volunteered for most of it), 3 hours to planning our neighborhood Halloween Parade (I stepped up to take over the organization of the annual event before I found out I was pregnant...and due around Halloween...my c-section is now scheduled for November 1 so that I won't miss Halloween), and 5 hours working on a newsletter I co-edit. Most of this time is during the evenings, after the kids go to bed, since there is just no time during the day.

I'm notorious for taking on way too many volunteer responsibilities. Whenever we're in a room and someone starts a sentence with, "We're looking for volunteers to help with...," my husband immediately pins both of my hands down and gives me "the look." I think part of it is because I'm a stay-at-home mom after spending several years in the workforce in an intense and workaholic atmosphere (law). Maybe it's part of my desire to stay productive and busy, not that having two 18-month old toddlers and another on the way isn't enough to keep me busy already. Another reason is that I just have a lot of energy and need somewhere to direct that energy.

The catch is that activities- volunteer, kid-oriented, social, etc.- are like crack to me. Not only are they addicting, but they put me in some sort of hyper-overdrive, jacked-up state. My mind races, my hands literally shake, I talk a thousand miles a minute...I feel like the Tasmanian devil in fast-forward. I can't sleep at night because I'm so amped up, so I am operating on very little sleep (maybe 5 hours a night, which is little for me nowadays). Friday night I couldn't sleep so I finally got out of bed at 1:20 a.m. to clean out the future baby's room. I would have gone down to the basement to organize the play room/new office space but I didn't want to have to turn off the security alarm and possibly wake the kids or my husband. Instead, after I had organized the future nursery, I took out a book of NYT crossword puzzles and worked on those until I felt drowsy enough to try to go back to bed. And then I was up at 6:00 a.m. to head back to our parents of multiples club sale, where I volunteered almost all day. And then we went straight to a neighbor's house for a BBQ before heading home to put the kids to bed. After that, I cleaned (scoured) all of the new toys I bought them at the sale earlier in the day.

Is there something wrong with me or is this typical nesting/energy spurt before the new baby arrives? I vaguely remember having insomnia with my twin pregnancy right before they arrived, too. Is this mother nature's way of priming my body for the sleep deprivation I'll experience next month? Whatever it is, I wish I could quiet my mind so that I could actually rest up before the new baby arrives. Instead, I'm like a crazy woman looking for things to do, stuff to organize, activities to coordinate, etc. I try to work off excess energy at the gym, but it's still there. I guess it's good for now because it helps me keep up with the twins at the very end of my pregnancy, but I fear the inevitable crash and just hope it doesn't happen simultaneously with the birth.

Maybe I'm just one of those people who thrive on business- I do love the fact that I have all the energy I do- but I just can't help wondering if it's going to catch up to me one of these days.

It Takes a Village

2007-09-28T06:49:00.000-04:00

First of all, I want to thank everyone who's left comments on my blog so far. I was amazed-- and touched-- to find so many supportive comments from other bloggers (and non-bloggers!) Now I see why so many people find blogging to be so therapeutic-- not only does it give someone the chance to get their thoughts out into words, but it gives us all the ability to connect with people all over the world who are in similar situations and who we wouldn't have a connection with otherwise, due to the simple fact that they just wouldn't meet face-to-face in real life. So I thank everyone who has visited and commented and hope to make it to all of your blogs to keep up with your lives and share our experiences.

I've been thinking a lot about community lately. Last night I had a monthly "Girls Night Out" with five other women in my neighborhood to whom I've grown close over the past year since we moved into our new neighborhood. Our neighborhood is somewhat of my "dream" neighborhood- a very close-knit, friendly community complete with an annual Halloween parade (which I volunteered to organize this year- before I found out I was pregnant and expecting the same week...my c-section is now scheduled for the morning after Halloween), annual ice cream social, playgroup, book club, Bunco group, etc. A smaller group of us have our monthly Girls Night Out as well as a monthly family BBQ (hosted on a rotating basis) so that the guys (and kids) don't feel left out. While I always envisioned living in this type of community, I never could have foreseen how vitally important it would become in our lives. The support we have in our neighborhood- from a simple offer to lend a lawn mower when ours was broken to handing down baby clothes and toys, to offers to stay overnight in the hospital with me if my husband has to be with the kids and to watch our twins if I ever need a break- is a perfect illustration of the importance of community.

I have found the same sense of support in the infertility community- it's unbelievable what people will do for individuals they may have grown to "know" through a blog but never met in person. Or how close you can feel to someone who you finally do meet in person after getting to know them only through their blog or an Internet bulletin board. In fact, the sole reason we ended up getting a second opinion at the Top Clinic was a woman I met online. We had "known" each other for a year or so before our local clinic declared us "lost causes," and when she heard the news, she made me promise to consider getting a second opinion from her doctor at Top Clinic. I took her advice to heart, and because of that we now have our twins.

Along the same lines, I was pleasantly surprised at the community that developed once I started talking openly about our struggles. While we were going through treatments, we were very private and didn't tell many people outside of our immediate family. I think a lot of people going through infertility do this, for a number of reasons. One may be the desire to avoid the multitudes of questions and well-intentioned (but increasingly annoying) words of encouragement from friends and family. I remember one friend who told me every time she knew I was cycling that she was "sure" this would be "it" for us- she "just had a feeling." Needless to say, every time she was wrong- and eventually I stopped telling her about our cycles because I just didn't want to deal with the disappointment (hers, not mine) in the end.

However, another reason I think people (including myself) keep quiet about their struggles is embarrassment. Looking back, I wonder why exactly I felt embarrassed. If I had another illness or disability, I would likely be open about it in seeking support and understanding. However, there is something about infertility (I suppose the fact that it implicates a host of issues people usually keep discrete) that makes people ashamed. I wish people could accept infertility for what it is- a disability like any other. In legal parlance, a "disability" is defined as a condition that substantially limits the performance of a major life activity. Infertility is just that- it substantially limits the performance of bearing a child, which is certainly a major life activity. If you had any other disability, would you be ashamed to talk about it with other people?

After we had our twins, I started to become more open about our struggles. I was inspired in part by my involvement in RE.SOLVE as well as one particular friend of mine who is very open about their experience with IVF. Listening to her respond to questions from mutual friends in a very open and matter-of-fact way made me realize it was unnecessary to be so closed and private about what we went through. As I started opening up to friends (and even strangers), I found that I developed connections to many others experiencing infertility, and in several cases I ended up able to help someone else just starting their journey through fertility treatments.

Now when someone asks me if twins run in our family, I tell them that we conceived our twins through IVF. I say it as casually as I would say "I was born in Rhode Island" or "We met through mutual friends," as I am intent on communicating the message that how we conceived our children (while really none of their business, but they did hint at that through their question) is as natural and acceptable as any other aspect of our lives. I don't whisper it behind my hand, or say "I usually don't tell people this, but..." My frankness sometimes takes people off guard, but often it results in the other person feeling comfortable enough to ask me questions about fertility treatments, usually because they know someone going through treatment, or to confide that they themselves are going through (or heading towards) treatment.

I always come away from these conversations wondering why we don't all talk about infertility- and our experiences- as openly as we'd talk about where we were born, or how we met our spouse or what we do for a living. Everyone has their reasons for keeping quiet (or speaking up) but I personally encourage people to be open about their experiences-- hopefully, eventually infertility will be a widely-recognized, legitimate disability. At the very least, opening up can help form a community- and as with any difficult task (like raising children!), it takes a village.

"You're a Busy Lady"

2007-09-25T11:55:00.000-04:00

I am often self-conscious when out and about with the twins and my ever-growing belly. Especially because our twins look like they could be nine months apart (our son is at least five pounds heavier than our daughter), I feel like people are looking at me and thinking, "there's a woman who needs to learn about birth control..." It doesn't help that I don't look my age (33)- I've been told I look closer to 23 and often get mistaken for my kids' nanny. I suppose I should look at that as a complement, but for some reason I get defensive when people mistake me for a much younger woman (girl).

I could care less about what most people think, but I do worry that the sight of me and my brood could cause fellow "infertiles" to feel pain, sadness, anger, resentment and a host of other not-so-nice feelings. I've been there, done that-- looked at women out with their children and envied what they had, feeling pity for myself. On one of the online infertility community bulletin boards I frequent, I often see posts "bashing" women perceived as "fertile"- the teenager with three kids, the friend who had an "accidental" or unplanned pregnancy, the co-worker who gets pregnant the first month she and her husband try. I worry one day I'm going to see a post complaining about "that 23-year old woman I saw at My Gym today with her 18-month old twins and third one on the way" on one of the infertility community bulletin boards. I want to wear a shirt that says "No, I'm not a 'fertile,' just lucky" or "It took us six rounds of IVF and over $50,000 to conceive our twins."

Most of the time, I'm left to wonder what people are thinking and hoping that no one is upset by the sight of our growing family. Sometimes, though, people come right out and tell me. Today at the mall, a woman passing by said (in a not-so-friendly tone), "You're a busy woman." I just smiled and nodded. Similar comments I hear frequently are "You certainly have your hands full," "You're working on quite the family there," or even "Better you than me!" When people make these remarks, I immediately get defensive and my response is usually something aimed at proving to them that only extraordinary people have the ability to handle three kids under two years old. I usually say, in an overly cheerful voice, "Yes! It's wonderful, isn't it?!" or "Yes! We are so lucky!" I would love to tell those people who say "Better you than me," "You betcha...I wouldn't want to see you try to deal with three kids!" but I never get up the nerve to do it. I have lots of snarky responses in my head but no chutzpa to use them.

The comments from strangers tend to get to me a lot less than those from friends. One of my closest friends (who also has twins our kids' age) told me that she'd "literally die" if she was in my position. Another friend's response to the announcement that we were expecting again was, "are you crazy?" (gee- thanks- most people say "congratulations.") How am I expected to respond to these questions? My mom always taught me to respond to negative people by "killing them with kindness." So the best I can do is come back with an overly bright-eyed, cheerful version of "we are so lucky!! We can't wait!!" At the very least, it throws people for a loop. And gives me more incentive to prove to everyone that I can be Supermom. No pressure, of course.

Interestingly enough, the most supportive friends I've had are those who have struggled with infertility themselves. Those are the friends who said "congratulations," and "you must feel so lucky." Those are the friends who "get it." I could never- and still cannot- relate to the parents who see their kids as burdens. My sister-in-law HAS to work full-time because she can't imagine spending all day (or I guess any part of the day) with her kids. My friend and neighbor said she has to work or she'd "kill" herself and/or her children if she didn't have time away from them, even though she barely makes enough money to pay for their daycare. I can't imagine ever feeling this way, even now with a third, easily conceived, child on the way. I often wonder if it was infertility that allowed me to avoid the feeling that our children are burdens. I'd have to imagine that there are certainly mothers out there who did not struggle with fertility and who appreciate their children as much as I do, but in my experience it's those mothers who went through infertility who see their kids as blessings, not as curses. If infertility gave me this appreciation of our kids, then I say "thank you, infertility."

What a Long, Strange Trip

2007-09-24T21:09:00.000-04:00

I have been an avid infertility community blog reader for over a year now and finally decided it's time to get off the sidelines and participate. When I read other blogs, and leave comments (as I frequently do), I feel sort of like a "fraud"-- or a sense of imbalance-- since I get to look into other peoples' lives but provide others no opportunity to look into mine. Plus, I have so many thoughts swirling around in my head about infertility, parenting after infertility, parenting multiples and other topics that I figure a blog will be a good place to put those thoughts into words. Hopefully by doing so, I'll feel like I'm truly a part of the online community I've grown to appreciate over the past year.

So, who am I? Good question. I'm certainly a very different person than I was three years ago when my husband and I started going through fertility treatments. Diagnosed with hypothalamic amenorrhea at age 29 after going off the P.ill and not getting a period for over a year, my case seemed "easy" to the doctors with whom we consulted. We were otherwise in great reproductive shape- we were young, had no family history of infertility and no other medical issues. I distinctly remember our RE telling us "as soon as we get you ovulating, you'll have no problem getting pregnant." Ha. Two IUIs and five rounds of IVF (two with PGD) later (all fresh, as we never had anything left over to freeze), all we had to show for it was a string of BFNs and a bank account that was getting lower and lower. That's when our local RE told us that getting pregnant with my eggs was going to be like "finding a needle in a haystack" and that we should just move on to donor eggs or adoption. Before we could accept that conclusion, we went to The Top Clinic (starts with a "C" and is in NYC) for a consultation with the doctor of one of my online buddies who urged me to consult with him (also her doctor) before we made any life-altering decisions. He concluded that the treatment we had at our local clinic wasn't the optimal protocol, and felt strongly that with a few minor tweaks there was no reason we couldn't have success. Overwhelmed with the logistics but convinced we'd always wonder "what if," we did a (what we claimed would be one last) "hail mary" cycle at The Top Clinic. Lo and behold, that cycle resulted in our boy/girl twins born in March 2006.

The experience of infertility changed me as a person. I had always been set on returning to work after having children, but as soon as I got pregnant I told my husband there was no way I could leave children we worked so hard to conceive. He was a trouper (I had always promised him HE could stay home with the kids and he was pretty psyched about that idea) and agreed it would be best for me to stay home. Now I can't imagine my life any other way- the thought of returning to work makes me tear up, and I know that as long as we can afford it financially, I will be home with our children and will only work around their school schedules. Our children mean the world to me-- I worry constantly about their well-being and think I am a much more patient and laid-back parent than I would have been had we not experienced infertility.

I am a much more skeptical person, sadly. I was always Ms. Sunshine before going through infertility- now I am less trusting (especially of doctors), more cautious and less naive. Infertility, in a way, came to define my life. I became very involved in RE.SOLVE, the national infertility association, participate in online infertility communities and read infertility-related blogs in my spare time. I was very closed about our experience while we were going through it, but now I am very open and tend to share the fact that we struggled with infertility freely. Most of my friends have experienced infertility because I tend to feel most comfortable with other mothers (or hopefully future mothers) who went through what we did.

And then something happened to shake this new found (and comfortable) identity: we conceived spontaneously when our twins were just 11 months old. We knew logically it could happen-- after giving birth to our twins (and when I stopped pumping for them), my period came back like clockwork for the first time in longer than I could remember. But when you put back so many embryos and end up with zilch most times, you just can't imagine how things could ever work out on their own. Apparently, somehow they did.

Instead of being elated and carefree about this pregnancy, I found myself with very mixed emotions. Sort of like a girl in junior high who is afraid the popular girls at her lunch table are going to shun her from the group because she talked to someone in the "unpopular" crowd. I felt guilty that this pregnancy had come so easily, and found myself justifying the pregnancy to everyone and anyone with a "but we had to go through six rounds of IVF for our twins!" I dreaded telling my friends who had struggled with-- or were still struggling with-- infertility. It just seemed unfair. Not to mention a kink in our plans...or my own plans- to run the Boston Marathon (four weeks after I found out I was pregnant- needless to say, I had to cancel the airline ticket and hotel reservations...), to compete in my first triathlon this August. Imagining going through the newborn stage (and a pregnancy!) again freaked me out, frankly. I had always said that I'd be happy to have a third if we could do it without medical intervention, but I meant several years down the road- not 19 months after our twins were born!

So we found ourselves going from no children (and the fear that we'd never have children) to the prospect of having three children under two years old. As grateful as I was, I can't deny that I was still stressed out. But over time, the shock and stress has passed and instead I'm feeling optimistic and, amazingly, strong. I feel a sense of pride (and maybe too much optimism?) knowing that I WILL be able to care for three young kids, and I'll do it with grace, energy and a smile on my face. Or at least that's what I'm telling myself. I'm going to be Supermom, and my family will be my source of pride and joy.

This blog is going to be my place to talk about whether I can really be the Supermom I imagine, the days that I feel like anything BUT Supermom, how infertility still plays a huge part in my identity, family life, playground politics and chatter and anything else that comes to mind. I hope I'll find a community of readers who will chime in to give me perspective, support, advice and inspiration.