Doing my duty

Whew! It has been one exhausting week.

And that's saying a lot, considering I've been laying in bed for approximately 98 hours since the week started, and I have done nothing substantive that entire time.

Unless watching "Year One" is considered substantive.

No, I didn't think so.

Finding out about the gestational diabetes was obviously the biggie. We spent the three days between the diagnosis and our education meeting trying (basically in vain) to follow the appropriate diet without clear guidelines or feedback from a meter. And you can imagine how emotional it makes a poor double-preggo when you blindly mess with her food intake like that. I looked slightly less cuddly than the diabeetus cat:


Fortunately the meeting cleared up a lot of our questions and misconceptions about gestational diabetes, and now we have the meter to tell us how we are doing. For the record: we are kicking butt. (And I say "we" because it is a huge team effort between me and DH and my Mom.) The diet is not as bad as I had initially feared -- although I still maintain that whole grains are vastly inferior to the refined variety (who wouldn't prefer something that's refined? it sounds so sophisticated. ooh la la, look at me eating refined grains!) -- and so far at least, my diabetes seems to be easily controlled by diet. Yes, I am bitter that I can't have cake at my baby shower next weekend. Yes, I am even more bitter that I can't inhale a gigantic cookie cake on my 30th birthday. But I soothe myself by imagining how I will eventually make up for the weeks of sacrifice by turning my bathtub into a giant hot fudge sundae and rolling around in the sugary deliciousness while laughing insanely -- MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

AHHH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

MUWAHAHAHA-- *ahem* Excuse me.

Then my cervix check was this morning, which always fills me with anxiety for at least a day in advance. It wasn't my favorite sonographer when we arrived, which made me even more nervous. But as soon as the screen came up, I knew we would be okay. It's holding fast and tight at 2.4 cm. Whew! High fives all around, and back home for another week. I did forget to ask the doc if I can stop the ibuprofen I'm taking, I'm so over it, but there's always next week.

Despite all the stress and worry this week, I've had moments where I have just been overcome with gratitude. Our situation at the moment is not ideal, that's for sure. But it's very temporary. And while I know there will be inevitable change and loss somewhere in our future, because that's the nature of life, I am so grateful for today. I have a devoted husband who still makes my heart flutter with giddiness after so many years. We are not rich, but we live a comfortable life. I have a healthy son with a gentle but playful spirit who brings joy to my every day. I have parents willing to sacrifice to care for me and my growing family without so much as a mutter, despite my own decisions to live so far away and get myself knocked up with twins. And as of this moment, I have two tiny babies wiggling in my belly, filled with all the promise of new life. It's much easier for most people to achieve a family than it has been for us. But this is our journey, and if it has to be this way, then I will gladly walk through the rough patches to earn my great blessings.

I know it's cheesy... but hey, I'm pregnant, remember? It's not so much my right to be emotional as my duty.

Now it's time to end this rollercoaster of a week. I'm ready to get back into the groove of laying around and spending quality time snuggled with something else I'm grateful for, my DVR. I have the season premiere of Psych waiting for me. I'm coming, Shawn!

Crap

Yeah, that's basically what I'll be eating from this point until the boys are born.

Because I have it.

The Diabeetus, of the gestational variety.

Next the Pregnancy Police are probably going to come take away my television and computer.

I'll be meeting soon with a nutritionist at the diabetes center at our hospital, so she can deliver the final blows -- the finger-pricking monitor and a list of dietary restrictions that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

If anyone out there has had gestational diabetes and wants to encourage, educate, or empathize with me, I'm all ears. Especially appreciated are the stories of how your new eating habits led to healthy weight loss, clear skin, shiny hair, and riches beyond your wildest dreams.

Crap.

Next up: 30 weeks

WHEW. Today we achieve our first bedrest-induced goal of 28 weeks. If our babies come in the next four weeks, they have a 96% chance of survival. They would still be at risk for many potentially serious problems, of course, but surviving is step one. Our next goal is 30 weeks, which really represents nothing more than the emotional relief of these boys breaking into the 30s. (Also breaking into the 30s that week? ME. I am considering how to celebrate this milestone birthday, perhaps by taking a shower or flossing.)

I have been on complete bedrest now for three weeks. Can you believe it? It doesn't feel that long to me, although the possibility of up to 10 more is daunting. (It is highly unlikely we'd go that long, but I need some sort of end date so as not to completely lose my sanity.)

Despite my being a complete sloth, there's still been a lot happening around here, thanks to DH and my Mom. Bean's room is coming along well, with my Mom executing our vision. Although there is no furniture in there yet (it's in the garage until we decide on carpet), Bean knows it is his room now and exclaims "WOW!" every time he walks in. Hopefully this will make the transition easier. He also has brand new big-boy shoes for winter, size 6 1/2 wide, and now fits into some of his 24-month clothes. DH is installing a new plug in the garage so we can hook up the extra fridge/freezer for all the meals our generous friends have signed up to provide. DH also got me a DVR for the television in our bedroom, so now I can record Teen Mom Meet the Press and watch it at my leisure. This is exciting stuff, people.

I also discovered something this weekend. As it turns out, I am no longer a fan of Uma Thurman. I watched The Accidental Husband because I was craving me some Colin Firth it sounded like a good plot. I know Uma has been in some seriously kick-ass movies throughout her career, but there's something about her these days that just annoys the crap out of me -- even when she has a hottie costar to distract me. Maybe it was those few minutes of My Super Ex-Girlfriend that I saw when flipping channels months ago that ruined her forever for me. Sorry, Uma, it's over. I hope it was worth the $14 million.

Have you had a realization or discovery lately, important or otherwise, that surprised you?

Double fail

It started with this.

The pictures... don't nearly do justice to this paint color. This retina-burning, radio-active, highlighter-inspired color.

That I chose.

For some reason.

I am equally surprised our contractor was able to paint the entire room without having a seizure, and that our neighbors didn't call the cops about the strange glow emanating from that window all night long.

I'm pretty sure you'll get a tan if you stand in that room long enough. And lose all your hair.

Fortunately, we were able to have our contractor repaint with something softer. Unfortunately, the memory of that room will haunt my nightmares for years to come. It was literally the scariest room I have ever seen in my entire life. (And I watched the second season of Twin Peaks.)

Then, the dreaded call came this morning: I failed my one-hour glucose tolerance (aka gestational diabetes) test. I was completely expecting it, but damn damn damn damn damn.

Now I have to schedule the three-hour test for next week for the final verdict, con a friend into watching Bean that entire time, and possibly live without the one thing that keeps my soul afloat during these long days of bedrest. SUGAR.

*sigh*

Well, if it helps my babies, of course I'll do as I'm told. They seem to be growing well so far:

At least I have this to cheer me up.

I just need to get my body pillow back from the dog.

There are benefits to being waited on hand and foot

My OB appointment is over, and I am writing this post from home. And I have never been so glad to be trapped inside a giant blueberry in my entire life.

(Which I guess makes it sound like I have a history of being trapped inside giant blueberries. For the record: I do not.)

My appointment started with a blood draw -- the much dreaded glucose tolerance test to determine if I have gestational diabetes. I failed my one-hour test with Bean, then passed the three-hour follow-up test. That was a close one. Now with the complications of twins and bedrest in the mix, I'm certain to at least fail this one-hour, if not the three-hour as well. I'm trying to prepare myself for the inevitable, but when the results come in, I'm still going to pout like a tween whose parents won't let her go to the Jonas Brothers concert. YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING FUN! ALL MY FRIENDS CAN EAT CARBS!

Then I met with the wonderful sonographer for the moment of truth. She measured both boys' fluid (perfect and even) and heartbeats (going strong). I tried not to hyperventilate with anxiety as she measured my cervix. It was 2.5 to 2.7 cm! (Up from 1.8 to 1.9 cm last week.) And near the end of the exam, the ultrasound machine crashed and would not restart. My cervix is THAT INCREDIBLE. Fortunately the sonographer had already gotten what she needed -- I would have flipped if it had been broken already when I came in. Sorry ladies scheduled after me, but I can't be held responsible for the actions of my wonky cervix.

Then a quick check with the doc. Weight, blood pressure, and belly all looking good (belly measuring 34-35 weeks). She was so happy for me that the ultrasound indicates bedrest is working. I will be keeping up the meds and complete bedrest, but from the comfort of my own blueberry bedroom. Next check: a week from Friday. I will be almost 29 weeks. Between the good measurement today and reading happy-outcome bedrest stories on a twin mommy forum, I am feeling more hopeful that these boys can bake a bit longer.

My Mom is staying indefinitely at this point. She and my DH get at least as much kudos as I do for this bedrest being successful so far. I know how exhausting it is to chase around a toddler all day, plus she has to care for me as well. And DH goes non-stop too, between working during the day and running errands after dinner. When we talked about it today, my Mom said that she wasn't sure if I really wanted her to stay, when in reality I just haven't wanted to pressure her, because I know it's a big sacrifice for her to be away from my Dad, her job, and her life. So let me be clear:

Mom, I want you to stay! Please, stay stay stay! We can't do this without you! We'd be a collective mess of blubbering insanity!

Oh, and thanks to the suggestions of Coffeegrl and Katie, one of my friends has set up a web site to coordinate people who want to volunteer for meals, babysitting, etc. So if you are a local friend and would like the link, please email me or leave me a comment.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to eat the gallon of popcorn that my Mom ordered for me. You never know when the results of that stupid glucose test are gonna come back.

80%

Sundays are my new favorite day of the week. I anxiously await that email from babycenter.com, giving me permission for a small celebration that another seven days have passed.

Today, I am 27 weeks pregnant. There is a four out of five chance our babies will survive if they are born now. It's a statistic that is both comforting and terrifying at the same time.

But I am grateful. Before bedrest, the weeks flew by, I hardly paid attention. Now, every day is hard-earned. Every day, my babies have a better chance of surviving, of being healthy.

My mood has become less stable, even as the babies grow stronger; I try to stay positive but the cloud of worry hangs over my bed. I am dreading my OB appointment on Wednesday because I don't want any bad news, yet I am nervous about waiting 8 days between check-ups. The house is running smoothly with my Mom staying with us, yet I am concerned about how DH and Bean will function without her, especially when I am in the hospital. I want the babies to bake as long as possible, yet I have little confidence that we can handle extended bedrest and hospitalization.

And as I learn more about the NICU, it's scary that this could likely be the easy part of getting the babies home safely.

It is a very gloomy post today, I'm sorry. I have been looking forward to this day, a Sunday, all week -- but I'm grumpy nevertheless. Maybe it's the dreary, rainy Seattle winter outside my window. Maybe it's the newest Harry Potter movie we watched last night, I forgot how depressing that book was. Maybe it's because the overwhelming blue paint that the previous owners chose for the master bedroom makes me feel like I'm trapped inside a giant blueberry.

But as far as an update goes, that's really all I've got. I'm hanging in there. Nothing disastrous has happened since my last post. Next OB visit is Wednesday afternoon. The babies flip and kick constantly, as if to provide a comforting reminder that they are strong and determined. My bed is full of the crumby evidence of countless meals and snacks, despite the dog's best attempts to remedy that, but at least my electric leg shaver arrived from the merciful folks at Amazon.com.

For today, we are all okay.

And on a better note, I farmed the camera for some shots of my little munchkin. He really is a riot these days. He talks up a storm, with new words (and instructions for the rest of us) cropping up constantly. And he's really bonded with my mom -- having consistency of care again means a better behaved Bean. And a happier house overall.

Bean gets some love from Grandpa B. and Grandma C. during our Christmas visit.

Anyone up for some football?

It may not be as exciting as a ball, but he enjoys his radio-controlled car.

Bean shows off his new smile-for-the-camera squinty face. The dog is not impressed.



Bean likes to eat his meals in bed with mama as much as possible. Here he munches on some "toes with pepper" (aka toast with cinnamon and sugar).

Grandma M. purchased a tray, now we are really dining in style.

Just kall me kreativ

I was recently given the Kreativ Blogger award by Jingle, a new bloggy buddy who brings inspiration and eloquence to the blogosphere. So basically, we don't have much in common. But she gave me the award anyway, and I am grateful! (And I also now received it from Gerardine at My Walking Path. Thank you so much.)



Per the rules of the award, I must list seven things about myself. I've done this exact assignment numerous times for other memes, and lately I feel I've been having to dig into some pretty ridiculous and insignificant facts. (Remember this recent post where I boast of my prowess at the computer game Minesweeper? Ummm, yeah.) Because I've recently "met" some new bloggers thanks to my foray into the world of multiples and bedrest, I thought I would pull back into the bigger-picture, getting-to-know-me kind of facts that will hopefully at least be new to them.

1. I have known my DH since elementary school, and I have had a crush on him ever since. When we were 16, I asked him out on our first date, and much to my complete shock and thrill, we began our relationship. We went to college in different states and married the month after I graduated. We have both changed so much since that first date 13 years ago (and I'm not just talking about the extra pounds around our midsections), but fortunately we've only grown closer over the years. I don't mind that he DVRs shows about Russian czars on the History Channel, and he doesn't mind that my idea of being a SAHM doesn't include cooking or cleaning. We are the perfect match!

2. Before quitting my job to stay home with my son, I was a mental health counselor. After a bachelor's degree in journalism and a job offer to make $10 an hour writing for a business journal in St. Charles, Missouri (need I say more?), I decided to scrap that career and follow my passion by getting a master's degree in counseling. Working in the field was more rewarding than I could have imagined. I feel blessed to have found my "calling" and I look forward to resuming the work someday. In the meantime, I'll just read your blogs and diagnose you all with the appropriate mental disorders. (KIDDING!!) (Seriously, I don't do this.) (But you probably should see a professional for that OCD.)

3. I'm a girlie girl, although I'm not always good at it. I adore shopping, but my wardrobe is decidedly unremarkable. I love make-up, but my eyebrows call desperately for professional shaping. I spend extra money for a quality hair-cut, but I haven't gotten a really cute pair of shoes in years. It works just fine for me, though. And I will not be embarrassed of my weakness for tiny, cute packaging and things that sparkle or glitter. Perhaps because of this, several people have asked DH if I am disappointed that we are not having a girl. Actually, no, not whatsoever. Because if they are like their father, they won't notice (or care) about my imperfect eyebrows or completely functional footwear. God bless my boys.

4. I may be Sunny in Seattle, but I'm a Midwesterner born and raised. Shortly after we married in our home state of Michigan, DH accepted a job in St. Louis, where we lived for five years. It is a lovely city, but neither of us felt really settled or at home there. When DH got an offer to transfer with his employer to Seattle while we were pregnant with Bean, my first thought was, "Over my dead body!" But since I wanted to have the option of being a SAHM, I took a big gulp and agreed to support his career. Much to my surprise, I absolutely love it out here and quickly grew comfortable. The mountains, the water, the green... it's gorgeous. And for some reason, I was not expecting everyone to be as friendly and welcoming as they are. It is really hard being so far from family, especially having Bean and soon the twins, and we miss them all terribly. But there is a solution: everyone we love needs to move here. What are you waiting for?

5. Motherhood was a difficult adjustment for me. I think most people who experience infertility agree that extra time waiting for a baby in no way translates to being extra prepared for the challenges of actually having one. To be completely honest, in those first few months, DH and I frequently asked ourselves what we were thinking going through all those treatments to achieve parenthood, because we sucked at it and weren't having much fun. But as Bean outgrew the newborn stage and we found our groove in caring for him, I discovered that being a parent is actually incredibly amazing. Bonding took a couple of months, but now Bean is my sweet little buddy and being home with him has been hands-down the best time of my life.

6. Speaking of motherhood, I would classify myself as a mainstream mama with a hint of crunch. I've tried to let parenting flow as naturally as I can: co-sleeping, extended breastfeeding, cloth diapering, babywearing, and gentle discipline as much as is reasonable. I tried to make homemade baby food for Bean -- which he consistently rejected, seemingly on principle -- and I opt for organic when it's available and not wallet-busting. We also keep Bean rear-facing in his car seat. But I do believe in vaccinations, the beauty of television, and the appropriateness of limited cry-it-out when the old-enough kiddo needs help learning to sleep. Oh, and unlike my crunchier counterparts, I didn't vote for Obama and think this administration stinks like poopy diapers. Cloth or disposables.

7. Having a sense of humor about life is very important to me. And if that humor is dry, irreverent, sarcastic, or self-deprecating, all the better. My Netflix and DVR queues are overflowing with comedies, and of the nine books stacked next to my bed right now, six are romance novels -- because really, it doesn't get much funnier than this. (And for the record, one of the remaining three books is a comical memoir and the other two are parenting books.) There are a lot of seriously sad things that happen in life, so I try to balance it out with as much laughter as possible. As Mark Twain said, "Humor is mankind's greatest blessing." He was probably referring to Seinfeld or Cake Wrecks. Hope you all have a blessed, hilarious day. And please blog about it so I can laugh too!

I actually also received this award a while back on my now-defunct Secrets of an Infertile Mom blog. So instead of nominating more people to pass it on, I'm going to link you back to that post. Not all of my nominees have accepted the award yet (I'm sure they are getting around to it, any day now) so instead of nominating more, I'll renominate them.

Thanks for reading!

Could have been worse

Yeah... that's really the best I can say about my OB appointment today. Cervix was slightly shorter than at discharge. The doctor was on the fence about sending me to the hospital. She said we are already doing all we can with the current situation, so she didn't really see the benefit in admitting me. (I have been following my bedrest rules at home, just ask my Mom! And drinking so much water that my pee has been crystal clear for days.) Anyway, the OB consulted with the MFM high-risk specialist, because as she put it, they are typically less likely to hospitalize women than her partners. The MFM doc recommended that she check my cervix externally in addition to the ultrasound that was done earlier, and he said if it was feeling okay then I should be allowed to go home. The OB did the external check, and she sounded just as relieved as I felt when she announced that it passed the test.

That. Was. Close.

So again barring any unfortunate developments, I am at home in bed until my appointment on Wednesday of next week.

As she was doing the exam, the OB remarked, "If it makes you feel better, your babies now have a better than 50% chance of survival outside the womb. And at 28 weeks, that rate jumps to 95%." She also said (in a very kind way) that I should be prepared to do some bedrest at the hospital in the future, and that I would not likely be making it to my C-section.

I'm glad that it's sounding like I have a good attitude about all this (based on your comments to my last post) because really I feel like I have a crap attitude. I am incredibly bitter and disappointed that this pregnancy is ruined, and I am absolutely terrified that I could lose one or both munchkins. I'm hanging in there, but it's hard -- really hard. The most I can do is take it day by day without breaking down, and so I will wait as I tick slowly towards our next goal, 28 weeks. Twelve days to go.

Now! To answer two questions asked in the comments of my last post.

IF Optimist, then... wanted to know why we aren't doing a cervical cerlage. The conclusion that I came to myself after researching online -- which was then confirmed by my OB -- is that I am too far along for a cerclage. Usually those are done at the end of the first trimester in women who are known to have an incompetent cervix. (Which most often involves a prior loss, sadly enough.) Anyway, my cervix is a bit more coy and didn't reveal her incompetence until much later. Once a woman reaches 24 weeks, putting in a cerclage has not shown to be very effective in lengthening the pregnancy. That needs to be weighed against the risks of the procedure, and in the case of twins, I've read that doing a cerclage can actually bring on labor. As we have already passed the point of viability by 2+ weeks, we are just going to do our best to hang in there with bedrest and medication.

Red inquired about whether all three boys will be diapered in cloth. Not at first. In fact, Bean is in disposables right now because of my strict bedrest. (It's all about convenience for the caregivers these days!) I imagine that when the twins come, the craziness will only increase, so in order to simplify as much as possible, we'll stick with the Pampers Swaddlers for them and Cruisers for Bean. Once If we get the hang of parenting three under three, I do hope to switch back to cloth. Bean will be potty trained at some point (the kid has NO interest yet), and of course I'm keeping his stash ready for future use. Time will tell -- and in the meantime, we'll just keep making our weekly contribution to the landfill.

Top eleven things about being on bedrest

1. Hairy is the new black.

2. I no longer worry about how I'll manage to look presentable as I outgrow all of my maternity clothes.

3. I will potentially go weeks/months without changing a diaper, which will help balance out the 4,271,639 poops and pees I will clean when we have three children who wear diapers.

4. I always have prime pick of the new super-sales at MamaBargains.com, GreenBabyBargains.com, and HauteLook.com.

5. If I fart, I don't need to blame it on the dog, because it's just me and the dog here anyway and she doesn't judge.

6. I am fairly certain I can pass the bar exam, given how many judge shows I have watched. The extra cash I could earn would certainly come in handy.

7. My husband can't give an exasperated *sigh* when he comes in and finds me laying around, typing on the computer.

8. When my friends come to visit, they see the "real" and "natural" me, which I'm sure will bring us closer because I don't appear as intimidatingly gorgeous as I usually do.

9. There's this thing called Amazon.com... and credit cards...

10. I have learned how to eat while sideways, which will come in handy if I ever become an astronaut.

11. I have finally gotten an answer to my burning question, "What would it be like to be the dog?"



I try to look on the bright side of this situation, dim as it may be. All my friends who have been on bedrest are bringing me books and magazines, saying they know how boring it is. I'm sure it will get boring as the weeks stretch on, but for now, I am still super busy trying to organize my life from my bedroom. I have purchased Bean's new bedroom set, ordered his new quilt, registered at BRU, planned Mom's Night Out for our MOMS Club, written a birthday card and two anniversary cards, chosen a paint color for the new office, plucked my eyebrows, penned a thank-you note for the two baby quilts our contractor's wife made for us, eaten a metric ton couple of truffles homemade and sent by my Aunt Sharon, completely taken advantage of all of my friends, and killed most of my brain cells watched The Bachelor: On the Wings of Love. See, I'm very busy! And I still have to get caught up on my email and Google Reader (down to 88 posts) (wait, now it's 90) (please stop posting for a minute, will you!).

The hardest thing, of course, is not being able to play with or comfort Bean. He seems to understand I can't leave the bed, which makes it easier... but he always wants to hang out with me here, which is very exhausting. It's hard to entertain a toddler on a queen-sized bed all day in ways that don't end up with goldfish crackers crushed between the sheets. (Yeah, those are from him.) (THEY ARE!) (Okay, a couple may be from me.) The transition has clearly been hard on him, we see more flashes of Evil Toddler Bean than we usually do. Hopefully he'll adjust to the new way of things soon.

My Mom landed safe and healthy yesterday, which has been a huge relief to all of us living here. I try not to think about how we will survive when she leaves. We won't smell as nice, that's for sure.

My follow-up appointment with the OB is tomorrow afternoon. I'll have my bags packed in the car, just in case. Wish me luck.

Sprung

Well, I'm home.

For now.

This morning at 8 am, my cervix measured 2 cm. I immediately became frantic that they weren't going to let me out. I consulted with my specialist -- Dr. Google -- and read as many articles from reputable sources as I could find. I decided one thing: I was going home today.

The main reason is that I am not showing other signs of preterm labor. No dilation, contractions are infrequent, blood pressure spot-on, no pain or bleeding or swelling, and the boys have the perfect amount of fluid. I can pop pills and grow hair on my legs just as effectively at home as I can in the hospital. If they weren't going to do anything else to help my babies (and I knew they couldn't, seeing as there is nothing else to treat), then I would be taking myself right out the door. Along with the body wash from the shower and juice from the mini-fridge.

Fortunately I didn't have to lay down the law break down in sobs for the doctor. When she came in a couple of hours later, she was feeling good about the results and immediately told me I could go home, as long as I really follow the guidelines of strict bedrest. She seemed to think I was caring for Bean when I was home on bedrest earlier in the week, which I absolutely wasn't, but I didn't argue because, Hey! I'm not an idiot and I want to go home.

(And to repeat: If there was anything they could do for the babies in the hospital better than I could do from home, of course I would stay.)

So now I am looking at my own walls again, with my son and pooch thrilled to have mama back. I wish I could say the same for DH, but I can tell that I am already driving him crazy with my nagging loving, gentle reminders that he needs to sort the mail, wash Bean's clothes, go grocery shopping, and return library books. Oh, and I could use a refill on my water. Thanks.

I need to call first thing on Monday to make an additional appointment with the OB as soon as they can fit me in. Hopefully I will be home until then, barring any more scary episodes.

I also need to catch up on emails and your blogs. I have no idea how I was on hospital bedrest for four days and still managed to accrue 110 unread posts in my Google Reader. I hope to find out lots of good news that you've been sharing!

And finally

By 7 pm, I was rather annoyed to assume that I wouldn't be seeing the doc again today. I did talk to two docs in the OB practice this morning, but that was before my cervical ultrasound, and I obviously have been anxious to plan our next move with these results now in hand. But fortunately, at 7:01 pm, she did show up. She explained that she had been busy with a birth -- perfectly understandable. In fact, I must say I have been very pleased with the care I have gotten from this practice, especially considering my OB is on maternity leave, as well as from all the nurses here in the hospital. They really seem to care about me and always involve me in the decision-making process as we go along. It's sad that I am impressed by this, because those things should be absolutely standard, but there are too many lazy, egotistical doctors out there who treat you like a problem to be solved by their own genius as quickly as possible.

But I'm rambling, let's get to the goods. My cervix this morning was back up to an average of 2.6 cm. The tech said at one point during the scan it was even up to 3 cm (like me, my cervix is SO! DYNAMIC!). There have been a few minor murmurs from the old ute, but I am not having significant worrisome contractions. In other words, things are looking decent, as reasonably good as I could have hoped for, given the prior circumstances.

But because I was already discharged from and readmitted to the hospital this week, the docs are recommending that I stay in the hospital until Saturday morning, and I agree that is wise. I will have another ultrasound then, and if I'm still above 2.5 cm (which I will be, right? RIGHT?), then I can go home to strict bedrest. DH will be home on Saturday to take care of me, then my Mom arrives on Sunday for two weeks. And after that... well, still scoping out banks to rob to afford that nanny.

What I'm struggling with most right now is the guilt. Having all this free time to watch "Paul Blart: Mall Cop" just think can be a dangerous thing. I feel guilty that I convinced DH to do more infertility treatments that got us all in this situation. I feel guilty that it's my uncooperative body that can't get pregnant unless we use meds and then HELLO TWINS. I feel guilty that Twin A and Twin B have to share my ute instead of being able to enjoy it one at a time like Bean did, and that they could potentially have significant challenges to overcome because of this. I feel guilty that now my body is failing and causing stress for so many people. I feel guilty that my husband is stretched the limit right now. I feel guilty that my son calls for "Mommy!" and I can't go to him. I feel guilty that we will have to hire someone to come to our house while DH is at work, which will drain our finances since I'm not earning any money. I feel guilty that my parents, grandparents, in-laws, and other family members are so worried. I feel guilty that all my friends are doing so much for me, with childcare and meals and visits and emotional support -- favors which I have not earned and probably will never really be able to repay in full. I know many of you will chide me for this line of thinking, but laying in this hospital bed, feeling helpless while others scurry around to pick up my slack... it ain't easy.

I don't mean to be a downer, I'm actually doing better today following the improved cervical measurement this morning. I just wanted to document and share a bit of the rollercoaster of emotions that comes along with this journey.

Now if you'll excuse me, I am excited to go take my first shower in 2 1/2 days, as I finally remembered to ask the doctor to add that privilege to my chart. I've really been pushing the limits of my Lady Mitchum. And it'd be nice to find that piece of corn I dropped down my shirt while having dinner yesterday.

A million thank yous, again and always.

No news... is good news?

Another quickie! I have finally been reunited with my beloved laptop (and thus, all of you beloved friends) but somehow I am not able to catch up on everything like I thought I would be able to. I have read every comment, though -- and they were funny and touching and just what I needed. So thank you and know that I appreciate each of you!! (And if I owe you an email response, it will come soon I hope.)

I am in the hospital still, of course, but there hasn't been much testing to report on. They are monitoring for contractions 24/7 but I haven't really heard how the old ute's been acting (and I don't ask the nurses). Tomorrow morning I'll meet with the doc to discuss the results of the monitoring, possibly do another fFN test, and definitely get a look at my stupid cervix. (I'm beyond talking nice to it at this point.) Based on the whole picture in the morning, the doc will decide if I need to continue to be hospitalized or if I can be released to bedrest at home.

The best news right now, I suppose, is that nothing catastrophic has happened.

The worst news is that I am absolutely terrified that something catastrophic will happen.

Thank you again for your thoughts and prayers -- I will post tomorrow after I talk to the doctor.

ETA: To answer Red's questions, I am 25 1/2 weeks now. We would love to get to 35. Just around the corner, right? *sigh*

Update from Mr. Sunny

Sunny wanted me to update everyone. She went in today for her regular OB appointment and found that her cervix was measuring 1.9 cm and minor contractions were continuing. They admitted her to the hospital immediately for at least 48 hours. They're going to try some additional medications and continue to monitor her over the next couple of days.

We appreciate all of the comments to the blog. I read them all to her tonight over the phone and it helps to know that people are thinking of her and the boys.

I'll get the laptop back in her hands soon so you'll hopefully get the real thing on the next post.

Thanks for your prayers and support.

Mr. Sunny

You know what would really cheer me up?

If you would help me celebrate International Delurking Week.

We all lurk on other people's blogs for various reasons, and this is the time of year for us to come clean and show some love. If you would do me the favor of stepping out of the woodwork this week and giving a little wave in my comment section, it would make me smile!

I would love to hear something about you, why you follow, that I still look amazingly hot even as I start growing hairy and lumpy on bedrest. Or you can ponder this question instead: "If man evolved from monkeys and apes, why do we still have monkeys and apes?" I've always wondered.

Oh, and if you prefer not to participate, some homemade cookies would also cheer me up. Chocolate is recommended but not necessary.

Quickly

I'm home. Phew.

No more bleeding. Cervix is a "strong 2.6 cm" according to sonographer. Having contractions, which seem to be Braxton Hicks (I can't feel them, and so far I'm not going into labor). The doc upped my meds and I'm going to the OB for another check tomorrow.

More later when I figure out how to remain at 45-degree angle or less and type on the computer without my back getting very, very angry.

More baby mama drama

The good news is that I'm still pregnant, and by all accounts, I have two very healthy little munchkins who are growing like weeds and flipping around in my belly without a care in the world.

The bad news is that I am THISCLOSE to ordering a Magic Bullet. Those infomercials are dang convincing! And they seem to be the only thing interesting to watch on television on Sundays for a captive audience like me.

Oh yeah, I'm in the hospital. On bedrest.

It started Saturday night, just before 7 pm. I went to the bathroom and seconds later yelled to DH, "Oh my god, I'm bleeding!"

We made a quick call to my savior friend, and she was on her way over to stay with Bean while DH rushed me to L&D (labor and delivery). It was definitely better to be at our own hospital with the doctors from my OB's practice -- it saved a lot of hassle and I didn't feel like I was being subjected to unnecessary poking and prodding. Mostly.

I was seen immediately of course, given exams and tests and a complete ultrasound. Babies are nearly 2 lbs now, rock! And my cervix was still 2.4 cm, no further shortening, although now we have a bit of funneling inside.

The bleeding was not large in volume, but any blood is bad at this point. The doctors aren't sure if it's coming from one of the placentas or my cervix, it wasn't clear on the ultrasound. Either way, though, it's obviously not a good thing. Fortunately it tapered off overnight on Saturday, but they want me to stay bleed-free for 24-hours before they release me. So I will remain in this hospital bed for at least one more night, tied to three monitors and with an IV in my arm, until I prove my stability or expire from uncomfortableness.

Best case scenario, I will be back home on Monday. In this hope, DH is taking the day off so he can come get me. But even so, I will officially be on bedrest. I can get up to use the bathroom, shower, and make a quick sandwich. That's it.

This week, we will manage. My friend is willing to take Bean to her house Tuesday through Friday when DH goes to work. Then on Sunday, my Mom is flying in to stay for two weeks. My parents are so awesome, I can't even type about it without tearing up. After my Mom leaves, we'll have to figure something out. There is the possibility that during the next three weeks, all my tests will come back so totally awesome that I can resume light duty.

But probably not.

I've obviously got a lot of emotions swirling around right now, but I'll keep this post focused on the physical details. It's looking like I'll have plenty of free time coming up to drone on about stuff, I need to save some topics for later.

And in the meantime, anyone want to offer a review of the Magic Bullet? Can you really make alfredo sauce from scratch in ten seconds? Do you use green noodles?

Sometimes being safe IS being sorry

We made it back!!! It was a bittersweet return, because although it's nice to sleep in my own bed again, we had an absolutely wonderful time with our families. The visit really went as perfectly as it could have, save one little snag...

On Tuesday morning, I was feeling some strange, well, feelings in my lower belly. The tough thing about a shortened cervix is that you really have no indication of how it's doing on a daily basis, without the help of an ultrasound wand. And on top of that, there are differences in being pregnant with twins from being pregnant with a singleton, so I often am not sure if a certain sensation is due to the fact that I'm carrying double this time or if there may be a problem.

DH mentioned that he'd feel better if we went to the hospital for a cervix check before we flew home. My gut said that it was probably just Twin A doing acrobatics down below, but I didn't want DH to worry, and of course I would also feel better after taking a peek. He suggested we head to one of the two "big dog" hospitals we had located in advance should a problem occur, but due to the fact that I wasn't really concerned, I said I'd rather just go down the street to the closer hospital. I figured we'd wait an hour or two for our turn with Wanda the invasive ultrasound stick and be on our merry way. We had plans for dinner and then wanted to catch my sister-in-law playing in her high school alumni girls' ice hockey game.

But first, my friend Sarah came over in the morning with her two adorable kiddos, and we spent some quality time catching up for the first time in years while Bean completely ignored our guests. Then DH and I headed to one of my favorite Midwestern restaurant chains for lunch, which was right next to the hospital.

We showed up at the ER (as they instructed when DH called ahead) and they wheeled me to L&D. It started off well -- they gave us our own private room, the nurse was very friendly, and the resident doctor bore an uncanny resemblance to Sarah Chalke. But it all slid downhill from there. Because suddenly we were stuck in the tight, clammy grasp of The Hospital System, with no local doctor knowing my history to guide and advocate for us. And the thing about The Hospital System is that they don't really give a crap what you are hoping to accomplish on the visit. They become liable for you, and they will run whatever tests they want, and you will follow whatever advice they give -- otherwise you find yourself with a huge stamp of AMA ("against medical advice") on your forehead, and I think it's like going AWOL, they are allowed to shoot you on sight as you run from the hospital. Oh, and worse, insurance can refuse to pay for care because you left without completing treatment.

It's not that they weren't nice (they were lovely, in fact), or concerned about me and the babies. I think that they were a bit too concerned, actually. They monitored the heartbeats and my uterus for hours. They ran an fFN test, which came back negative, meaning that we can be 97% certain that I will not go into labor within the next two weeks. Dr. Elliot Reid performed an external cervix check, saying that I was not dilated but was 50% effaced. Apparently two attending doctors met to discuss my case because OH! MY! GOD! TWINS!, and both were horrified that I was allowed to fly in the first place. I remained calm through all this, letting them go about their agenda and remaining unconcerned and unconvinced there was a problem. Because of the limited size and services of this particular hospital, it was obvious they weren't familiar with cases like mine. But still, a date with the strangely elusive Wanda was not possible... not here, not now. Because they don't have the resources (no MFM) and my uterus was a bit "irritable" (I wanted to argue that it was probably just following suit as the rest of me slowly grew irritated), they wanted me transferred to their larger hospital for a consult with MFM. *sigh*

Fortunately the nurse talked the squawking doctors out of making me go in an ambulance (seriously?!) and let DH drive me over. By then it was near 7 pm, obviously too late to be seen by MFM. I would have to spend the night *double sigh* and get my ultrasound FINALLY in the morning. The doctor I saw that evening was definitely not from Scrubs (he forgot to take his happy pill that day) but at least he was reasonable. He reviewed my chart and saw no reason to give me any of the drugs suggested by the docs at the previous hospital. I sent DH home around 10 pm and waited for 11 pm when the nurse would come monitor the babies again. I was absolutely beyond exhausted at that point.

Around 11:30 pm, it was finally lights out. I was laying on a bed of bricks, with two pancake pillows, a ridiculous excuse for a blanket, and bound by an uncomfortable monitor to keep track of whether I had any contractions overnight. By midnight, it was clear that despite feeling that every cell in my body had been drained of energy, I would not be sleeping.

At 3 am, after much tossing and turning and two Family Guy episodes, my nurse came in and gave me an Ambien. Which allowed me to sleep from 5 am to 7:30 am. All the sleep I would get that night.

By the time DH showed up on Wednesday morning, I was completely at the end of my rope. I was quietly sobbing from being beyond exhausted and uncomfortable. My last two days with my family were completely ruined, I was unnecessarily in the hospital instead of spending time with them. It was also, incidentally, the longest amount of time I had ever been separated from Bean. Fortunately, they didn't make me wait too long to see MFM. My cervix measured at 2.3 cm, which was not fantastic, but the MFM doctor said it wasn't alarming to her whatsoever. As other women have told me their doctors do, she feels that cervix checks in twins after 20ish weeks is pointless anyway, because it just shortens naturally. I wasn't having regular contractions, my fFN was negative, and everything seemed okay.

She said it was likely overkill, but she wanted me to have two steroid shots for the kiddo's lungs, just in case. She was fine with me flying the next day -- I would just need to stop by in the morning to get the second shot (they are delivered 24 hours apart).

So DH and I booked it off the grounds while keeping an eye out for snipers, with a newfound fear of The Hospital System and life on bedrest. It doesn't really make sense that two of the best words in the English language combine to make something so unspeakably horrible, but even my brief 24-hour peek into the world of bedrest was enough to completely freak me out.

Back at my parents house, it took me a nap, a shower, and several more hours to shake off the bad film left on by that hospital stay. I was pleased to hear that Bean had a great evening with both sets of grandparents -- one that was actually probably made a bit better by the absence of "mommy" to cling to. He went to bed without protest and slept through the night. My parents were practically glowing, they had so much fun at dinner and the hockey game. Either way, we survived, learned a lot, and have moved on.

Despite the disappointing ending, there were many great things to come out of our visit:

-- Most importantly, Bean had major bonding time with his grandparents and the rest of his extended family. He was appropriately spoiled but remained just as sweet and happy as always. He still wanted to check in with mommy, but he was much more open to exploring and playing with other people. It was really neat to watch.

-- I got to take a break from all the tasks of daily toddler care... I didn't change diapers, toast waffles, pull on tiny clothes, feign excitement to play football again, or give baths. While I do absolutely love being home with Bean, it was really nice to let my parents take care of those things temporarily. Especially when they were so happy to do so, and Bean obviously enjoyed it.

-- No having babies on the plane. 'Nuff said.

-- Speaking of the plane, Bean was once again a champ on the ride home. While we were at the baggage claim, a man who had been sitting near us on board commented to DH, "Your son was amazing on the flight. Is he always that well-behaved?" Yeah, he takes after his mama.

-- I absolutely luuuuuuurve my new SLR camera that we got for Christmas. I only know how to use about 3% of the functions, but it's already 300% more awesome than my point-and-shoot. It will be more difficult to post pictures on the blog now, because the files are so large that I won't be uploading all of them to my laptop. But I'll figure out a new system eventually. Hopefully you won't all abandon me in the meantime. Come on, I know you aren't here for my brilliant observations on motherhood.

-- My cousin Justin gave me MP3s from two Tori Amos concerts. I haven't gotten new music in a while and I'm looking forward to having something fresh for the car, until Bean finds the vocabulary to make his own requests. Knowing him, it will probably be the Michigan State University marching band CD.

-- My cousin Kimmie, a media buyer at an ad agency, explained to me why there are Chili's commercials in Seattle, despite the fact that the ONLY location is at the airport behind the security check (as bitched about in this post). She said that because most areas do have a Chili's that doesn't require a plane ticket for access, it's probably cheaper for them to buy a national advertising package than pick out certain markets. Okay, I can understand that. By imparting this insight, she has saved me countless rantings each time the commercial plays, and saved DH from having to listen to those rantings. Awesome.

-- The visit to the hospital prompted discussions on how we would handle bedrest. My parents opened up the possibility of my Mom coming out here for a few weeks or a month before the birth to help out. Which then springboarded into a conversation about how DH and I can afford a part-time nanny to help out after the kiddos are born by stealing redirecting some money for a few months. This possibility makes me feel all squishy and giggly inside.

-- Also stemming from the hospital fiasco, the baby boys got steroid shots for their lungs in case they are born prematurely. I assume that means if when they are born full-term, they will have super developed lungs, and will probably emerge wearing Speedos and smoking a bong like Michael Phelps. While the weed thing I could do without, it does excite me and DH that we could save tens (hundreds?) of thousands of dollars on college when both boys get full swimming scholarships.

Unfortunately, sickness prevented us from seeing my brother and two friends while we were in town -- they were kind enough to keep their germies to themselves, even though I was severely bummed not to see them. Hopefully we'll be able to return to the Midwest in the fall with the babies and see everyone again.

Happy New Year!