Lucy's Story - Progressing to labor

For the majority of my prenatal appointments I was seen by one of the five midwives who work under Dr. Crabtree. I did have one other later appointment with Dr. Crabtree where we discussed in greater detail what to expect and how to plan for a successful VBAC. I came with a long list of questions, a little nervous about finding out her answers, but left feeling encouraged and optimistic.

I had my last prenatal appointment scheduled the Thursday before my due date. At that appointment the midwife I met with asked if I wanted her to check to see if I was dilated. Right away it was clear by her struggle that things weren't already happening. She concluded that if I was dilated at all, I was maybe at a one. As I left that appointment, they scheduled two more appointments for the following week - Monday and Friday - with plans in place of what to expect if labor still hadn't started on its own.

I felt pretty discouraged the rest of that day, just feeling ready to be done. Done with being pregnant. Done with the mental anguish of the unknowns of what would happen with Lucy's birth. I was just done. So, I did the most logical thing I could think of at the time - I came home and made a huge pan of enchiladas.

Later that night, I decided that more important that anything else I needed to relax. I needed to get rid of the stress and tension I was feeling. So, I took a warm bubble bath, while Marc put on the relaxing music we wanted to play at the hospital during the birth and then he read from a hypnobirthing script to help relax my entire body. It was exactly what I needed and helped so much.

The next night, Friday, after getting the boys down for the night my dad came over so that Marc and I could go on a walk. We ended up going about 1.3 miles and it felt good just to get outside on a cool evening and have some time to be alone with Marc. We did have to stop periodically for some contractions, which made me feel a little better.

Saturday night we repeated our relaxation techniques and I was even able to imagine being in the hospital and feeling the same level of relaxation and calm.

Sunday night we decided to go on another walk. This time I was feeling pretty good, so we ended up going two miles. Even if it wasn't doing anything to get things going, it was just nice to have that quiet time with Marc. We got some pretty funny stares, clearly from people knowing the only reason a woman as pregnant as I was would be out on a long walk like that.

Monday came and, from what I could tell, I still hadn't progressed since my Thursday appointment. But, when the midwife offered to check me, I reluctantly agreed. I was both surprised and elated to hear her say I was dilated to a three, although I knew to keep the excitement in check since some can be at a three for weeks before going into labor. She guessed, though, that I'd be having this baby before my Friday appointment came.

That afternoon I felt some pretty strong menstrual-like cramps while trying to take a nap with the boys, and a few strong contractions later that evening, but then nothing. I called my sister, Dawnette, just to give her a head's up. We had made plans a few months ago to have her fly out for the birth, to act as my doula during labor. She isn't certified, but she'd used hypnobirthing with her youngest and she studied up on how to fill that doula role for us. I wanted her to be ready, just in case she were to get a phone call in the middle of the night.

And, it was a good thing I had given her some warning. At 11pm, just as I was trying to fall asleep, the contractions started. They were about 10-15 minutes apart at first, then got gradually closer together and stronger in intensity. I tried to relax through them and to sleep in between, if possible. I purposely tried to keep Marc from knowing, because I wanted him to be good and rested.

I think it was almost 3am when I called Dawnette to tell her to get to the airport for her 7:20am flight. At 4am, the contractions were strong enough that my moaning woke Marc. I filled him in on what had been happening for the last five hours and he encouraged me to get in the tub to relax while he got everything all together to go to the hospital.

While he was quietly rushing around, he was also timing my contractions with an app on is iPod. In that hour my contractions were averaging 3:48 minutes apart and lasting a minute long. So, at 5am, we called my parents. My Mom came over to be here with the boys while my Dad rushed to the airport to pick up my sister. And, Marc and I rushed to the hospital, with me kneeling on the floor behind the passenger seat, leaning over the back seat. I know it sounds like an awkward arrangement, but the thought of sitting up just seemed too painful.

Marc checked us in at the front desk of Labor and Delivery, while I braced a counter off to the side and swayed through a pretty strong contraction. They got us into a triage room and we waited for someone to come in and check my progress. I was preparing myself to hear that I was still only dilated to a three, so you can imagine my surprise when the nurse said I was dilated to a seven. It was really happening! Our baby girl would be arriving soon!

Due Date Eve

So, it's the night before my official (estimated) due date and I'm still very pregnant. The last time I posted, on Tuesday night, what I didn't mention was that while I was writing that post I was having consistent contractions... and was about 60% sure that I was in labor and would be announcing our baby's arrival the next day. After about three hours of contractions that were about 10-15 minutes apart, they started to really slow down and then eventually stopped. I was still hopeful that morning would come and they'd pick right up again, but no luck.

And, since Tuesday I've had a few contractions here and there, but nothing that has been convincing enough to get my hopes up like they did on Tuesday. I know she'll come when she's ready, but since I'm hoping for a successful VBAC, my time is a little bit limited (because of policies and crap like that). So, I had a good, long talk with my baby girl tonight while taking a relaxing bubble bath about how I'm ready for her to come... even tomorrow, on her due date, if she's ready. If she has already inherited the same stubborness of her brother Hugh, then chances are that our little talk had no effect.

But, even if she isn't quite ready, I'm ready to wait patiently for her arrival... knowing that even though it feels like it could still be forever away, the reality is that she'll be here so soon (and I really won't be pregnant forever!). I just can't wait to finally hold her and love her.

Full Moon

Marc took me out to a delicious Mexican restaurant last Thursday. I had their chicken enchiladas. My only regret was not thinking to request having them made extra spicy. Although, as we walked out to the car after finishing dinner I did have one pretty convincing contraction. It stopped there, though.

On Sunday night I had Marc join me in the kitchen to help me whip up a batch of those lemon drop cupcakes. I was mostly craving some sort of treat and figured it was a good time to try them out. I think I ate three that night, and even though I had a few contractions while making them, there weren't any real signs of labor after eating them. And, since Sunday, I've probably had an average of one and a half per day. Not sure they're working.

This morning, since both boys were feeling good (they've taken turns in the last week having fevers and diarrhea - Ben for three days last week and today was day 4 for Hugh, desperately hoping tomorrow he finally feels all better) and while they were happily playing, I went into full nesting mode. I cleaned out the fridge and mopped the kitchen floor on my hands and knees, cleaning the front of all the cabinets and the baseboards while I was down there. This was what sent one of my sisters into labor with her second child. I was a little disappointed when I was done and nothing was happening.

So, I've pretty much decided to mentally be prepared to be pregnant forever, then I won't feel so anxious about when and how and where and what if. But, tonight is a full moon and that moon could make all the difference.

Labor-inducing Foods

As I'm approaching the 39 week mark of this pregnancy, I've started to consider what measures I'd be willing to take to help speed things along a little. I don't know that I'd ever be desperate enough to try castor oil, but I've started to make a list of things that seem like they'd be both safe and appealing, in the face of desperation... or even just curiosity.

Lemon Drop Cupcakes

There's the bakery in Virginia that has it's own growing list of success stories with their labor-inducing Lemon Drop Cupcakes. Lemon cupcakes? Sounds delicious to me! Even if they don't do the trick. Here's a recipe I found, in case anyone else is interested in trying them out - Lemon Drop Cupcake Recipe.

Pizza

Have you heard of the Prego Pizza? Skipolini's Pizza has it's own legend going of a labor-inducing pizza. And, since this pizza place isn't too far from where we live, I might just have to convince Marc to take me out to a yummy pizza dinner one of these nights. Or maybe we'll just make our own and throw every topping we can think of on top, since that sounds like it's basically what it is.

Fresh Pineapple

When I was pregnant with Hugh I read somewhere that eating fresh pineapple would help soften/open the cervix and help induce labor. I admit that I ate a lot of pineapple in the weeks before he was born, but mostly because it was delicious. Here's a more detailed explanation of it's labor-inducing properties.

Spicy Food

Another thing I ate a lot of the week before Hugh was born was enchiladas, the spicier the better. Who knows if it helped or not, but I didn't mind having an excuse to eat good Mexican food.

And, here's a list of nine foods that claim to do the trick. I'm thinking the Eggplant Parmesan and the Chocolate Cake look pretty tempting.

I don't know... this week's menu is looking kind of exciting! Are there any other foods/recipes I should add to my list? Anything that has worked for you?

Keeping perspective

I don't know if I'm remembering the final weeks of my pregnancy with Hugh wrong or if I really am a whole lot bigger and rounder than I was with him. At this point I'm on track to gain the same amount that I gained while pregnant with him, but it seems like the clothes I was wearing in the final weeks with him are barely covering my belly at this point... and I still have three weeks left (give or take). It's making me feel pretty self-conscious and I've started to like the idea of disappearing to some private location for the final weeks, where I don't have to listen to all the unwanted comments about my size and how very pregnant I look. Wouldn't that be nice?

But, really, as uncomfortable as these final weeks can be, I'm trying to just enjoy these final moments of special bonding that only she and I will share. I was really grateful for a random moment at the grocery store last week that put things back into perspective for me. I was picking out a watermelon when another young-ish mother came over for some watermelon-picking herself with a young toddler in her cart. I'd been feeling very large and somewhat uncomfortable and dreading how much worse it's going to get in the next few weeks, seriously questioning how my belly can possibly get any bigger. She turned to me and said something along the lines of "I sure miss feeling like I was carrying a watermelon." I kind of laughed, thinking she was being a bit sarcastic. But, then in our brief exchange I realized she was being completely sincere.

As I walked away I was reminded of how special and miraculous the whole process is and how deeply grateful I am to have been blessed with this most incredible blessing. Not to mention how much I dreamt and hoped for the chance to be largely and uncomfortably pregnant not too long ago, honestly not knowing if it'd ever be something I'd get to experience. I'm hoping to keep that perspective in these final weeks and allow my wonder and awe at every movement and hiccup to keep any discomfort from distracting me from the beauty of it all.

I am so excited for those first moments with my baby girl when I'll find that familiar feeling of just knowing we've known each other all along. It's the same feeling I felt with each of our children and it always leaves me feeling so overwhelmed with love, for them and for an incredibly merciful Father in heaven who has blessed me beyond measure.

Nesting

This pregnancy is quickly approaching 37 weeks and nesting is in full swing. I've spent the last couple of days washing loads and loads of pink and flowery clothes. Hugh was helping me sort through it yesterday and as I'd point out a butterfly or a flower on a little dress or shirt, I'd say "look how cute", which then made him say over and over in his high-pitched yet still raspy voice "cute!"

Today I finished getting all the clothes organized and either ready to be worn right away or carefully boxed away for the coming months and years of anticipated use. It feels good to have that all done.

I also have my hospital bag packed, hoping that I've included things that I'll want and need and wondering if there is anything major that I'm forgetting. The big thing I remember really wishing I had while recovering from Hugh's birth was ear plugs. It was torture to be unable to sleep in the middle of the night because of the screaming woman in labor next door. The nurse offered me cotton, but that just didn't do the trick.

I've packed the basics - toiletries, lotion, chapstick, bath robe, fluffy towel, baby clothes and other baby necessities. Then there's the items that I'll pack last minute - cell phone, ipod, laptop, chargers, etc. Am I forgetting anything? Is there anything you would never go to the hospital without?

These nesting urges also had me cleaning the bathrooms this morning and making a mental list of all the little chores to do between now and baby girl's arrival. I would add them to my actual written list, except that there's already enough on that list to keep me busy and semi-overwhelmed. I've just decided that I'll do what I can in the time I have and make sure the most important things are taken care of, and let everything else go. It really isn't a big deal if I don't get the cereal cupboard organized by box size and brand. Joking here. But, I know there are some things on my list that are just about as ridiculous as that.

Overall, the nesting has me feeling extra grateful for my blessings - knowing there is a little girl on her way to our home and knowing I am so completely undeserving, by any merits of my own, of this and all my other blessings. Somehow, some way, I hope to live my life in a way that reflects how deeply grateful I feel for all that I've been given.

Unexpected Mercy

This afternoon Marc came with me to take another quick peek at our growing little Baby Girl. There's a comfort to having him by my side for big moments like this and I feel extra grateful that he takes the time in his busy day to show he thinks it's important, too.

It was a month ago, at my normal pre-natal appointment, that I was told we needed to get a second ultrasound done between 26 and 28 weeks. Initially the midwife told me that the ventricle outflow in the brain wasn't "well-demonstrated." Well, as soon as I got home I hopped onto the internet, which took me on one quick and scary ride through the land of Worst-case Scenarios. After having a mini breakdown at the thought of something going terribly wrong, and possibly losing this little girl, MY Baby Girl, I summoned the courage to call the midwife and get more information. I wanted details, I wanted to know the exact words from the report of the initial ultrasound, I wanted answers to questions I had been too stunned to ask during the appointment.

Once I finally got a hold of the midwife, she read the report in my chart word for word to me over the phone. There was one point where I heard something about "ventricular outflow of the heart." The midwife kept going and I had to stop her to clarify. I reminded her that at my appointment she'd said it was the outflow of the brain. She read it again and then apologized for the confusion and clarified that it was the outflow of the heart that wasn't clearly visible. For some reason that not-so-tiny detail made me less worried. And, really, in the following weeks I felt this calm reassurance that Baby Girl would be just fine.

And, that was exactly what we learned today. We got a good view of the heart and there was good outflow and a good, strong beating heart. Huge relief. We can resume our previously scheduled non-dramatic pregnancy!

The ultrasound tech was being shadowed by an intern today, so after we got the important things cleared up, we were asked if we were okay with the intern taking a turn driving the little wand across my belly. "Sure. Why not?"

So, we got some additional measurements, just for the heck of it, which revealed our little Baby Girl is not so little. She is consistently measuring two weeks ahead of my estimated due date, with her head measuring slightly ahead of everything else. That moment took me back to Hugh's 28-week ultrasound when we found out about his head measuring ahead of the rest of his body parts. We apparently make large headed babies. And, if Baby Girl's growth continues like it did with Hugh, I guess we can expect another baby tipping the scales near another healthy 9 pounds (hopefully not more than that!).

Seeing into my own womb, watching my baby moving around and feeling the kicks simultaneously, getting a tiny glimpse of this little unexpected miracle, made my own heart feel like it might just burst. I was realizing that every one of my babies has come unexpectedly, in moments when we were least expecting or planning. All unexpected, but all the greatest of surprises and true miracles.

It's no wonder the most striking moment from this past weekend's General Conference for my church, was this quote by Elder Holland:

"Surely the thing God enjoys most about being God is the thrill of being merciful - especially to those who don't expect it and especially to those who feel they don't deserve it."

To have been the recipient of God's mercy on more occasions that I dare try to count, makes me want to dig deeper to be better and more deserving of His love and goodness.

25 weeks and counting

I've been terrible at documenting this pregnancy. Life is busy. And, I have to admit that, even though I'm not feeling overly anxious about something going terribly wrong with this pregnancy, I think I tend to keep myself focused on other things to purposely keep my mind from going there. I worry a little about how I'll explain to Baby Girl why I don't have weekly photos of my pregnancy with her (although, I didn't do that with Hugh, either) and why I didn't record more of my feelings during these nine months. So, I'm going to make more of an effort to document more of this, for her sake.

This last Sunday I reached the 25 week mark. To celebrate, my tummy decided to reject everything I'd eaten that day. Throwing up at 25 weeks is not fun. I'm really hoping that night marked the final rendezvous with the dreaded porcelain bowl.

I don't know how much the boys understand what's about to happen, but they pat my tummy and say "baby", as well as understanding that "baby" also refers to a tiny human being. (I should also clarify that they also pat their own tummies and say "baby"... so clearly there's a little confusion still. haha.) Last week, while I was busy making dinner, Hugh came up to me with a ball, trying to stuff it under his shirt and saying "help." So, I helped get that shirt nice and stretched out enough to fit the ball in there. He giggled and then trotted off with his back slightly arched back. Then, of course, Ben had to get in on the fun and brought his ball over with the same request. Funny boys!

I almost wasn't going to include this very unflattering photo of me with the boys, but since when have I ever claimed to live a glamorous life?! This is the real deal, on most days, I tell ya. Tired, pregnant, make-up-less me, just trying to make and keep a happy home. And, actually, I'm totally cool with that.

Here's a more traditional shot of the baby bump, taken two days ago... so roughly at 25 weeks and 3 days. I find it so awkward trying to figure out how to stand for these photos. Do I wrap my arms around my belly? Do I hold it from underneath? Should I put my arms down to the side? Smile at the camera? Look off in the distance? Maybe that's the real reason behind not taking these photos every single week. Too much pressure for this analytical head of mine.

And, I'll leave you with one of my most favorite photos of the boys right now. Sitting on our front porch, Ben wearing Grandpa's beret and Hugh wearing Grandma's newsies cap. Here's the deal, though. This photo is not posed in the least. They are always wearing these hats - as soon as my parents walk through the door, the boys plead/demand to wear their hats. This photo captures so much of their personalities... I love it!!

Daring to dream

Over the last several years I've acquired baby girl clothes here and there. It started the summer of 2003 just after getting our first positive pregnancy test. I never bought a whole lot all at once, just cute little outfits on clearance that I just couldn't pass up. One of the first and still one of my favorites is this white onesie with a subtle little ruffle around the collar and a pair of purple and white gingham pants.

Obviously when we found out the twins were girls, I was thrilled to finally get all those cute clothes out and ready to be spit up on and worn out. Well, clearly, those dreams ended much too soon and once again it was all carefully folded and put away in a safe place, desperately hoping for another chance. Someday.

After Hugh was born and there was a time when we seriously wondered if our family might be complete as is, I debated back and forth about hanging onto all of the girl clothes we had collected. It was starting to feel silly and maybe a little painful, too.

Just the other day I pulled out one of the plastic bins full of girl stuff - clothes, blankets, burp clothes, etc. - and looked at it all with new eyes and new dreams. And, that was more scary than I thought it was going to be.

Expecting a girl, after losing two, has made me feel a little extra cautious in how much I daydream about what it'll be like to have a little girl. Those dreams and visions are hard to bury. So, I've tried to not think too much about the future and have just focused on the present moment as much as possible. But, I'm also able to recognize it's healthy to let my mind and my heart go to that future place where dreams come true and stories have a happy ending.

Something happened today, though, that almost sent me into a complete panic. At my monthly prenatal check-up the midwife casually mentioned that I needed to have a follow-up ultrasound in a few weeks to double check a certain vital organ that wasn't visualized clearly at my ultrasound two weeks ago. She didn't seem concerned and so my immediate response was that it wasn't a big deal. Then, as the day wore on her words kept running through my mind and after some quick google searches I didn't feel so pacified.

After finally getting through to a nurse, to clarify some things and hopefully ease my concerns, there was a brief mention of the possibility I'd have to go down to UCSF for additional testing. I swear to you that just hearing "UCSF" is the most awful sound to these ears... well, and mostly to my heart. I don't have a good track record so far, with my last three babies ending up at UCSF. I really could use a pregnancy that doesn't involve anything having to do with that place. Please?!

Eventually, later this evening, I was able to get in contact with the midwife I saw earlier today and we had a bit more candid conversation about baby girl and her current situation. She was able to answer some of my questions and give me a little more information that helped calm my heart and ease my fears. For now, it appears that the concern with baby girl is just that there were some areas that weren't clearly visible during the ultrasound, perhaps because of positioning, that they just want to get a second peek. So, for now the panic is on hold and will hopefully stay that way for the next 17 weeks.

What I learned, though, in the initial panic of today's news was how much I already love this little girl of mine. And, how much my dreams of what life will be like with her have already made their place in some future reality. And, how I can't wait to see if she'll look like her sisters and what her unique features will be. I've decided it's better to dream of those things I hope for the most rather than giving that space up to fears and worst-case scenarios. Because somewhere and at some point, I really believe all of those dreams will come true.

The big question? Answered!

The night of November 3rd, just hours after getting the initial shock that we were expecting again, I made some comment to Marc about our baby and referred to the baby as a "she" without even thinking about it. I caught myself as soon as it came out and kind of shook my head, unsure of how/why it slipped out like that.

But, with every comment we've gotten over the last few months that would go along the lines of "I bet you're just hoping for it to be a little girl..." I would make sure to respond with "we will be so happy, whatever the baby's sex." And, I really meant it, too. I LOVE having boys and would love a whole house full of them!

Then, last night I had a dream that someone was handing me my baby and said, "here's your little daughter." So, I woke up this morning just wanting to finally get the answer to the big question. And, this is what we learned:

And, I have a hilarious husband, who will one day be famous for his comics. This is his interpretation of what we saw today:

There's a whole lot more running through my mind and heart, but that'll have to come a little later... it's precious nap time right now and with the sun shining, the windows opened and the birds chirping, I'm hungry for a little quiet time to do some private reflecting. The windows of heaven have definitely been opened on my little family.

Vacation and catching up

Okay, I just had to peek in here really quick to show I'm still alive. I can't believe January is almost half over and I still feel like I'm recovering from the excitement of the holidays. So much fun and so much crazy all bundled up together! At some point I'll have to fill in some of the blank spaces with some stories and some photos, maybe even a few videos, but here's a tiny glimpse of what the last few weeks have been like.

Two days after Christmas we celebrated Benjamin's second birthday with a few fun presents and trip to Baskin Robbins, where he had his first ice cream cone and LOVED it! We're still planning to have a party with a few more presents and cake and a visit with his birth mother... hopefully sometime later this month.

Then, the very next day we hopped in the car at 4:27am and drove for nearly 13 hours (with a few stops for food and playtime and diaper changes), until we arrived at Marc's sister's house. We lounged, ate delicious food (all day long!), soaked up good conversation and enjoyed the musical talents of their whole family, complete with us all singing around the piano. The boys were in heaven with so many new rooms to explore, with ornaments and decorations at their fingertips, unfortunately resulting in some casualties. Otherwise the visit couldn't have been more perfect!

We continued further north for a few more days of vacation, spent with Nana and most of the rest of Marc's family. The boys had so much fun running around, becoming acquainted with everyone! Even though the boys get a little thrown off their sleep schedule and feel a little disoriented with new places, it's always so much fun to get away. We kicked our feet up and enjoyed every moment with family!

Of course, time always flies and before we knew it we were piling back into our car at 4:25am one dark cold morning, heading back home. It was another long day, nearly fourteen hours, with a few stops for food, playtime, and diaper changes. BUT, driving both ways, the boys did GREAT! We were amazed at how easily entertained they were, at how easily they slept when they were tired, at how little they fought getting back into their car seats after a quick stop, and how few their moments were of discontent. We did make sure to plan our stops so that they weren't more than four hours apart, as well as making the stops last at least 30-45 minutes long, which I think made all the difference. I think we stopped three times coming and going, which wasn't too bad at all.

Almost as soon as we got home, though, we all got sick. Ben got it the worst. Fever, cough, congestion, swollen lymph nodes... all making him completely listless for about three days. It's so unlike him to sit and want to be cuddled for hours and hours. I tried to forget about everything else screaming at me to get done, and just focus on spending that time with my sick little guy. Luckily he's doing a lot better this week and so far Hugh hasn't gotten whatever it was that Ben had (fingers crossed, still!).

And, that, more or less, brings us to today, which was the first day in a long time that I felt like I was finally starting to get a better handle on the other chaos of life - paying bills, doing laundry, cleaning the toilets (although that huge credit goes completely to Marc!), vacuuming, and general de-cluttering. I always sleep better with a clean house, so I'm really looking forward to my sleep tonight.

Oh, and I almost forgot... pregnancy-wise all is going well. That statement, actually, pretty well sums up this pregnancy. I keep forgetting that I'm even pregnant, despite all the time I've spent heaving into the toilet and the bump that seems to have doubled in size in the last week. A miracle of all miracles, for two weeks after Christmas I didn't throw up at all, meaning our entire vacation was joyfully vomit-free. Then, last Sunday, I threw up three times. Still not sure what that was all about. But, nothing since. So, maybe we're in the clear, but maybe not?? Fifteen weeks along and feeling like the next 25 are going to fly by just as fast, especially if I keep forgetting that I'm pregnant.

Number Three

For the last (roughly) six weeks, I've been trying to recover from shock that I'm pregnant. Not too long ago I was complaining to a friend about people who ask me what has become the most dreaded question: "are you going to have more kids?" There are a few reasons the question bothers me.

One, it's such a personal question that doesn't have a simple answer and in most cases I don't want to give anything but a simple answer, which usually means my answer of "I really don't know" is probably not a very satisfying answer to most people.

Two, even though I've managed to get pregnant three times in the past nine years, my stats clearly aren't anything to brag about. Getting that question reminds me of the painful reality that I have no idea where I stand in my battle with infertility.

And, three, honestly I feel so blessed with these two boys (and our two on the other side), that to be blessed with any more would just feel greedy. In fact, a few months ago when a friend offered to let me hold her newborn, not only did I not feel baby hungry for a new baby of my own, I also had zero desire to hold her baby. Is that weird?

To be honest, we really thought we might be done. At the very least, we decided we wouldn't even consider adding to our family until the boys were at least three years old.

As that pink little line immediately appeared, the very first emotion to stink deep in my heart was the most overwhelming exhaustion. Not that I was suddenly tired, but the exhaustion that is sure to come... being pregnant while running after two nearly-two-year olds and then the exhaustion of having three kids under three. Ben will have just barely turned two-and-a-half and Hugh just barely two, when this baby is due to arrive.

Not to mention the overwhelming worry about my parenting qualities drastically dropping with an addition so soon. While getting pregnant right now was not the plan, in the last six weeks, between episodes of throwing up and spending endless hours curled up on the couch all while yelling at the boys to stop hitting each other or to get off the kitchen table (clearly, the drastic drop has already begun), I have started to feel the overwhelming exhaustion turn into the most overwhelming love.

Love for this new little miracle. Love for my two boys who seem to know something is a little off and show their concern with extra love and kisses. Love for Marc who I interrupt in the middle of his work day to change nearly all of the poopy diapers, which he does without a single complaint. Love for my parents who have made sure the boys get some real play time and I get a little rest time every single afternoon, along with the meals they've brought over. And, finally, love for the Giver of life and that for some reason He has blessed us again with a new life, a new little miracle.

So, some of the nitty-gritty details: I'm ten weeks along and due sometime around July 8th. Morning sickness is just as awful as with the last pregnancies. Even with the miracle drug, Zofran, I'm still throwing up about once a day... at least it has eliminated those days a few weeks ago when I was getting up to three times in per day. Not fun. I've lost eight pounds in the last month. If things continue like they did, then I can expect to be throwing up for another ten weeks.

One upside to having such terrible morning sickness is that I keep thinking that adding a newborn to the mix can't be too much harder than what the last month has been like. Or maybe I'm just delusional. That could be.

Three kids suddenly feels like a million. Maybe it's just the fact that both boys will still be so young. If people at church are enjoying the little show we put on every week right now, it's about to get a whole lot more entertaining!

Appointments

It's been a week of appointments.

Tuesday I had my 24-week appointment with my doctor. It was four weeks ago, at the end of my last appointment that we made our way down to The City to pick up our little Ben. So, the doctor and nurses were pretty excited this week to finally meet him. When we go out like this I wonder what people are thinking. Do they think that I'm just still trying to shed those extra pregnancy pounds? I'm sure those questions will only get more interesting in the coming months. It has been quite a unique experience having a newborn baby in my arms and having a baby kicking around inside at the same time. 

The other day while I was feeding Ben, I had him conveniently resting a bit on the top of my growing belly. The Little One must have felt either a little cramped or a sudden urge of affection for his big brother because in the exact spot where Ben was resting there came a push back. I can hardly wait to see how they'll be together. Good times lie ahead, really good times.

Anyway, my appointment went well. Apparently the Little One is  already positioned head down... not that he'll stay that way for the next 16 (or so) weeks, but I was amazed that she was able to tell that just by a slight feel of my belly. Speaking of belly-feeling, it has been fun to have Marc finally be able to feel the kicking... and now if you're looking at the right moment you can see the waves of his movement across my belly. 

Some good news is that I'm finally gaining weight now that the morning sickness seems to be over. My last date with the toilet was right around 20 weeks. Those were some long weeks. There are still foods that I stay away from and I still have dry heaves, but I'm glad that the vomiting has subsided. And, I'm mostly relieved that our little guy is doing well.

And then, today we went in for Ben's one month appointment.

I can hardly believe he's one month... in some ways it feels like it's been so much longer and in other ways it feels like it was just yesterday that he came to us. His weight started out at 7 pounds 2 ounces. At two weeks he was 7 pounds 12 ounces. And, today he was up to 8 pounds 14 ounces. On top of that he's 21 and a half inches long... up three quarters of an inch. Our little boy is growing so fast! 

Besides getting his scheduled vaccination, we discussed some concerns with the doctor about how Ben is doing. We've been worried about of his frequent painful cries. There is no doubt that his crying is caused by something that's seriously causing him pain. 

From the beginning we knew part of the problem was gas pain. We tried a couple of different formulas hoping we might find an easy fix. But that only caused other problems. Today the doctor confirmed another of our suspicions. He's also suffering from acid reflux. That's quite the duo. The other day we started him on a new formula that is supposed to help ease the gas pain and the doctor wants us to keep him on it for a week before trying some other solution. It all sounded reasonable and doable sitting there in the exam room.

It wasn't until returning home with Ben and having his pain escalate to the point that he wouldn't eat and couldn't be consoled that I wished I had demanded a quicker fix. While his different sources of pain torture him, his crying is torturing me. I just feel so bad that he has these moments of immobilizing pain and that as his mother I'm unable to take his pain away. And, I feel so helpless with the little ways that I am able to do to try to help him. 

He and I must have been quite a sight today... gently bouncing near the kitchen window, both of us crying. I love him so much, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for him. Thankfully Marc was home and able to step in and help soothe us both. We're all hoping that we find something soon that will help his pain subside. He is such a sweet boy... we hate to see him in so much pain.

All in all, these appointments are sweet reminders of how much we have to be grateful for. We really have been blessed beyond anything we ever could have imagined.

Girl, Girl, Boy, ....

* Our January Baby Boy, picture taken Sept. 2nd, at 22 weeks

Since the beginning of September we've had more than a few moments of imagining what our life could look like a year from now with two babies. Since we knew Tracey was having a boy, we just made sure to daydream equally about him paired with a little brother and him paired with a little sister. Both visions would leave me smiling from ear to ear.

For the last few days my dreams and imaginations have turned more specific. On Monday we headed down to the same Perinatologist office we went to last year with the twins. It felt a little strange to be in the same office at the same point in pregnancy when we got our first glimpse of bad news with the twins. I tried not to relive those memories, but I was admittedly relieved when the ultrasound tech. led us to a different room where we could make new memories.

As I was getting myself situated, her first question to us was, "so, is this your first?" 

"Um... let's say yes," was all I could think to say.

She caught on and asked if we had had a miscarriage. I gave her a very brief explanation. She responded with a genuine sympathy that made me immediately love her. As she moved the wand over the gooey mess on my belly, I was stunned by the miracle of life that is growing within me. We were chatting a bit while watching the screen at the same time, when all of a sudden her wand paused to take a picture and I stopped mid-sentence, totally shocked by what I was seeing...

"Is it a boy?!"

I swear her "Yes!" came out as more of a squeal than anything else. 

Oh my gosh, a boy. No, two boys. Brothers. Best friends.

So, yes, the daydreams now include all things boy. Visions of blue mixed with playing ball and never-ending energy and daredevil stunts. And, we couldn't be happier!

The little guy is growing and strong. All of his anatomy is perfect and healthy. Our Level 2 ultrasound even revealed both of his layers of teeth already formed. So amazing. The only downside to getting an ultrasound from a high risk office is that since they look for more, the chances are higher of finding something to be concerned about.

It turns out that the umbilical cord is a 2-vessel cord, rather than the preferred 3-vessel cord. That was when we heard unwelcomed words like echocardiogram, growth restriction, and "we'll be watching you more closely."

My heart sunk a little. I don't want another scary pregnancy. I just want it to be easy. No concerns, no complications. When the Doctor came in to double check everything, fortunately she eased many of the fears that had crept in. She did confirm the 2-vessel cord, but she also confirmed that the kidneys and the heart looked perfectly healthy, showing that the cord problem hasn't affected the baby or his growth and development (yet). She does want to see us again in a couple of months to make sure he is still growing right on track, but no need to be overly worried at this point. Plus, he's already measuring a week ahead of schedule, so that was definitely welcome news.

Our emotions are about to pop. January eleventh is quickly approaching and we are all ready for Baby Boy #1. We can't wait to meet him! I feel so grateful that we'll be able to give him a little brother so quickly. I don't know how or why we've been blessed with such abundance... but we are grateful beyond words for the mercy and kindness of a loving and provident Miracle Worker.

* Our May Baby Boy, picture taken Dec. 14th, at 18 weeks

Blessings - Part 2

Ten days.

Ten days ago we couldn't keep the news for ourselves anymore. Even the thought alone of bringing a little boy home just days after Christmas has our hearts wrapped in the most joyful and reverenced feelings. I can only imagine how it will actually feel. After all these years, all the "almosts", to have a baby to bring home with us. And, then to think of the selfless love that will be involved, I think my heart just might burst. 

This little boy, destined for our home, was the initial opening of the windows of heaven. As if that alone wasn't big enough to be enough. We've been filled to overflowing with this unexpected, incredible news. But, for some inexplicable reason, we received an amazing second portion of blessings. The same amount of time you've now had to let the news of our adoption sink in, ten days, is the same amount of time we had before our discovery of "Blessings, part two."

Are you ready for this?

Ten days after we received our first email from Tracey, I woke up for the fourth morning in a row fully expecting the arrival of that dreaded monthly visitor. On that fourth morning when it still hadn't arrived, I finally gave in and took a test, fully expecting to already know its outcome, as it has been approximately 85 times out of 88. (The odds, clearly, not in our favor.)

Instead, the results sent us into shock. I calmly walked from the bathroom into our bedroom with the pregnancy test in hand. Marc was still sleeping, very soundly and peacefully, I might add. I gently nudged him until he stirred a bit and looked at me with his squinted eyes.

In a half-whisper I said, "so, I took a test this morning."

His simple reply, "And?" 

Me: "It's positive."

I said it just like that. Very matter-of-factly. No exclamation. No screaming. No jumping up and down. There weren't even any tears, of joy or of fear. There was, however, a slight hint of a smile trying to form around the corners of my lips. Marc reflected the same cautious hint of joy.

I soon realized there was a thick protective coating of numbness around our hearts. It didn't help that these sequence of events felt very uncomfortably like we were reliving an awful deja-vu from the spring of 2008. If you remember, we had been chosen to adopt a baby boy, which then followed with news that we were pregnant with our twins. Having things sort of fall into the same chain of events, honestly, made me very uncomfortable. The two main thoughts I had during that time when we were tentatively about to add three kids to our family in one year, were - "our blessing, finally, after waiting for so long" and "this is just too good to be true."

I've refrained from thinking either of those things this time around. Instead, I've just tried to enjoy each moment, hoping and praying for the strength to handle whatever the outcome might be (with both anticipated blessings). 

I called my doctor right away. That very day she sent in an order for blood tests, 48-hours apart, to check my hCG levels. The results would offer me some peace of mind for 12 more days, until my first ultrasound. That same peace of mind has been reapplied, almost as if it's melting away that layer of numbness, with every appointment, every ultrasound, every sign that new life is forming within the walls of my broken tabernacle.

Our first two pregnancies were five years apart. I thought maybe I was on the "five-year plan." Well, and actually, after certain complications following the birth of our twins, I was warned of the possibility of never being able to conceive again. Ever. Not that that news was any different than the fall of 2006 when the Reproductive Endocrinologist I was seeing flat out told me, "you'll never conceive naturally."

I've been tempted, now, a second time to call her and tell her that she was wrong. Twice.

Somehow we have conceived a baby.

Naturally.

Unexpectedly.

Miraculously.

I'm far enough along that my nearly inch-deep "innie" is not nearly so deep, though not yet considered an "outie." I've started to feel the early subtle movements of our little babe. The week after next we will find out if Baby Boy will have a little sister or a little brother.

They will be approximately four months apart. Almost like twins. One coming through an angel named Tracey and one coming through my healed womb.

Both miracles.

Both gifts.

Both blessings.

Both dreams that have cost us too many tears to count.

Both worth every ounce of pain and heartache of the last almost seven-and-a-half years of waiting.

If ever there was a time that I've felt first-hand the reality of the Law of Compensation at work, it's now. As beautifully stated by Elder Wirthlin, just before his death,

"The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."

The feelings of gratitude we now feel, as we shed tears of rejoicing, cannot be contained in words.

"Rejoice with them that do rejoice"

Back in March when I found out I was so unexpectedly pregnant, it was incredibly hard to share the news. Having been down the painful path of infertility, I knew our news would be received with mixed emotions by some of our friends who have walked that painful pathway with us. I felt so blessed beyond measure, and even undeserving. There was a very real internal battle between feeling joy for our gift and sorrow for those who were still waiting. I wanted so badly to somehow pass out fertility passes to every infertile couple we know.

I found myself thinking of the scriptures that command us to "mourn with those that mourn" and "comfort those who stand in need of comfort." After sharing our news and getting some mixed responses, I wanted there to be a phrase that included something like "rejoice with those who are rejoicing." Since I was the one rejoicing, it seemed like the best idea around. C'mon, everyone, rejoice with me!

Don't you think it fits?

Well, apparently it really does fit. I came across this verse in Romans 12:15: Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.

Now, that our greatest grief has replaced our greatest joy, and we're back on the other side of feeling pain and uncertainty of infertility, I've struggled with these feelings. Why is it so much easier to mourn with those who are mourning? Why is it not just as easy to rejoice with those who are rejoicing?

I wish it wasn't so hard. I wish I didn't have worries about when and if it'll ever happen for us. I wish I understood why it has been so hard for us. I wish I didn't worry about heaven running out of children to send to our home.

It's a struggle, and I know it isn't something that will come quickly or easily. But, I know there are great things to be gained from making an honest effort to get my heart to that place of rejoicing, even if it's rejoicing over someone else receiving the one gift I would give anything for.

I'm a bit overwhelmed with challenges like this that take such serious self-mastery of pride, of jealousy, of entitlement, of bitterness, of frustration, of any other number of vices you can imagine. But, those are things I want and need to purge anyway. There's no doubt that this refiner's fire I've found myself in is my chance to do some serious purging.

This is my chance. My opportunity. And, possibly the greatest challenge of my entire life.

(With that said, don't be surprised if it takes me my entire life to get to that ideal point. And, if you're one that is rejoicing, please understand that I'm trying. I really, really am.)

God Be With Our Angels

We never thought we'd be in this position. 

As you know, the last couple of weeks have held many ups and downs for us and our little girls, Elliana and Emmaline. Through it all we have been blessed by the prayers and love we've felt from all of you. We felt very sure that whatever challenges came with this pregnancy that we would make it through to the end with our little girls. 

This week's challenge was discovering that the surgery to fix the Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome that appeared to go well last week actually had some complications in the form of a serious uterine infection. On Tuesday that infection caused one of the membrane sacs to break, sending us in a panic back to UCSF that night. As we waited all morning Wednesday, praying and hoping for a positive outcome, Megan developed a fever accompanied by other signs, indicating the seriousness of the infection, making immediate delivery our only option.

Elliana was born at 8pm on Wednesday, July 16th. Her sister, Emmaline, was born at 8:10pm. They were 20 weeks 1 day. Elliana lived for about an hour, and Emmaline was considered stillborn. They both measured exactly the same - 9.5 inches long and 9.25 ounces. We had some very tender and precious moments with both our beautiful little girls immediately after birth and throughout the night. There are no words to describe the deep love and bond we felt with those brave little spirits in our presence. We felt a sweet assurance that they are ours forever and that our chance to raise them has not been taken away, but only delayed for a little while. We look forward with great anticipation to the day when we will meet them again and fulfill all our dreams of raising them and loving them the way we hoped to in the coming weeks and years.

While we are definitely aching and mourning our loss, we have also experienced sweet comfort and peace. Thank you for your continued prayers for our family. They bring us strength and hope in quiet moments of need.

We are planning a memorial service for Thursday, July 24th at 9:00am at our local LDS Church.

All our love and gratitude,
Marc, Megan, Elliana & Emmaline

More good news...

Well, we wanted to share the latest news with you all... Megan was discharged from the hospital this afternoon. We knew it was a possibility, but it still came as quite a surprise. We had an ultrasound this morning, which confirmed that the babies were responding well to the surgery. Dr. Lee even changed his initial feeling of "95%" and said, after seeing the results from the ultrasound, he felt much better about the outcome. The fluid levels looked much better, both babies' bladders were visible, their heartbeats were strong and healthy, and they were both moving around quite a bit. Megan is doing well, too. She is still a little sore from the surgery, but after being hooked up to about 10 different machines and monitored for the last 24 hours, the doctors and nurses were really happy with how stable all her vitals were. 

While we are very grateful for this initial good news, we have been warned that there are still some hurdles to overcome and only time will tell how successful it really was. We will continue to come down to UCSF for follow-up appointments for a few weeks. Our hope is that at those visits the girls will continue to show signs of improvement and health, which will confirm these intial feelings of success. But, we definitely have reason to be happy and hopeful!

We can't thank you all enough for the warm thoughts and prayers that we've felt carrying us through this. We know all those prayers have been heard and answered, and we are more grateful than words can express.

All our love and gratitude,

Marc & Megan, and Elliana & Emmaline

Surgery Update

Just to update you all, Megan got out of surgery a few hours ago. The surgery went well; the surgeon called it a "95%" because of some very minor bleeding that obscured the view. But it sounds like he got most, if not all, of the transfusion vessels. In addition, they removed about 1 liter of fluid from Emmaline's sac (the recipient twin). Megan is in good spirits. She should even get to eat food soon, which is a nice alternative to ice chips. We should have a follow-up ultrasound tonight and tomorrow, which will help us know where we're at. One of the radiologists performing the ultrasound during the surgery observed that near the end of the surgery the donor twin (Elliana) already seemed to be more active, which is a very good sign. We still have a long road ahead; Megan has been having some contractions, and we don't know what sort of follow-up treatment might be necessary. We're feeling optimistic, though.

We are extremely grateful for all the prayers and kind emails and phone calls we've received.

Request for prayers

Yesterday was one of the longest days of our life. We had our appointments down at UCSF starting at 8am and leaving our last one after 4pm. We met with a number of different doctors, specialists, and surgeons. We went down there hoping they would send us away with a confusion of why we were even referred there in the first place. But, it turns out our situation is much more serious than we thought.

It was confirmed through an ultrasound and an echocardiogram that the Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome had progressed to a Stage 3, which probably doesn't hold a lot of meaning for most of you. But, basically it's the most serious the syndrome can get while still having good chances of the babies surviving it with laser surgery. Had we waited any longer, it probably would have been too late to do anything.

To give a few more specifics, our donor baby (the one with less fluid) is starting to show signs of stress in her kidneys, and her bladder isn't visible at all (meaning she isn't getting the nourishment she needs). Our recipient baby (the one with more fluid) is having to work over-time to process all the additional fluid, causing additional stress on her heart. She is the one that the doctors are more concerned about right now.

Fortunately there is a laser surgery that is now available to try to correct the problem in the babies' placenta. The surgery has only been in existence for about 20 years and is only performed at a handful of hospitals, UCSF being one of them. The surgery is pretty straight-forward, though with obvious risks involved, just like any surgery. They will go into my abdomen with a small laser instrument about the size of a drinking straw and with the help of an ultrasound they will identify the blood vessels in the shared placenta that are causing the discordance in blood flow between the two babies. Using the laser, they will cut off those blood vessels, leaving the babies with vessels that flow equally between them.

So, we will drive back down to UCSF tonight. They will check me in around 8pm and get me all prepped so that they can perform the surgery first thing Thursday morning. My actual time slot isn't until 1pm, but they are hoping to get to me much earlier than that. The surgery itself will be performed by Dr. Lee and should last an hour or so, after which they will monitor me and the babies really closely in the hospital. Friday morning they will do another ultrasound to see how things are going. Depending on what they learn from that, I'll either be discharged Friday afternoon or Saturday sometime.

While we have our concerns about going through with the surgery, we feel like the risks are much less scary than just sitting back and waiting to see what happens. Plus, the fact that our babies both continue to grow at the same rate, even with the present problem, is a really good sign. My placenta is also in a posterior position, which makes the surgery a little easier to perform. So, yes, we have our fears... BUT, we are also still very hopeful.

And, we are so grateful. We have been overwhelmed with so much love and support. We have felt strength in the midst of this storm that is not coming from our own reserve. We are being blessed with the strength and the courage that we lack, and know that comes as a result of the Savior's atonement. We are grateful to have each other, to have the perspective of the gospel, to have the most incredible family and friends who have stayed by our sides through all that we've faced.

Oh, and for the last few weeks we have been doing lots of talking about names for our little girls. We had initially planned on keeping that information to ourselves until they were born, but have decided now is a good time to share. Besides liking the names, we also found the meanings behind their names to be very fitting.

Baby A (our donor twin) is Elliana. It's a hebrew name, meaning "God has answered." She is one part of a double blessing in answer to years of pleading and prayer to start our family.

Baby B (our recipient twin) is Emmaline. I don't remember the origin, but it means "work." She is our little worker, doing double-time to keep them both alive.

We love our little girls so much! They are already teaching us so much about love, about courage, about the will to survive. They are our little fighters... and we are ready to fight with them. In the meantime, please know how deeply grateful we feel for the prayers being offered for us and our little girls.