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!