Looks can be Deceiving: An Explanation and Apology

Easter Sunday just happened to also be the day that the boys turned eight months old.  Eight. Months. Old. Wow. I can honestly say that I had moments when I was terrified that we may never get to this place.  And, I wouldn't let my mind even delve into all the problems we may be facing if we did make it.  But, look! Here we are.  We made it!  The boys are doing wonderfully.  If you were to see them today it would be hard to believe where their lives started.  They certainly don't look like babies who were born almost three months early, weighing in at less than 1500 grams (we would learn that this is a huge cut-off in the preemie world) and not be able to breathe independently.  There are moments when I have flashbacks. There is never one thing that brings me back. Sometimes its a sound or maybe a story from a fellow preemie parent.  But, when they happen I am transported back to those rooms. I can see them now.  First their separate but attached rooms in the NICU.  Where Joey and I would sit in opposite rooms, holding babies and talking through the doorway.  Then, what became our home away from home. Our room on the ICC.  Our twin room.  It was way to small for everything we crammed in there, but I wouldn't have changed that for anything.  Being in that room allowed me to hold both of my babies at the same time. Or I could hold one baby and soothe the other, they were that close to each other.  That was the room where they both graduated from their isolettes to their cribs.  The room where they first breastfed.  The room where Joey almost coded on us.  And where Vinnie went on a hunger strike until his bro came back to him.  While we had an amazing stay at Children's in Minneapolis, my biggest fear from the moment I drove out of their parking ramp with both babies in the van was having to go back.  They were still so little that we just didn't know what was going to happen.  Would they be able to eat enough to grow and prosper? Would their little immune systems be able to handle two big sisters who go to school? Would their nervous system shut down from all the chaos around them?  Would our pets induce or provoke respiratory problems we didn't pick up in the hospital?  Not only all of that was going on....but I also had to factor in their apnea monitors and need for medications. So, I put us on lock-down.  I made a list of people who I knew would be around enough to make sense to expose the boys to their germs.  It was a short list.   But, to be quite honest if I had had my way-it would have been shorter.  Not, that it was actually possible to do so, but my fear of being re-admitted was so prevalent that I would have done anything to keep it at bay. 

And that decision sucked.  Both Joe and I have huge families.  Full of people who love us and supported us through the hardest months of our lives.  Who prayed and loved these lil guys without even really knowing them. My family is the kind that when a new baby shows up they get passed around for hours. As the parent you won't know where your kid is or who has them, but I can promise they are very well looked after. I have always used it as a nice break from having a new baby.  Not this time.  I couldn't do that.  Going to events-family or otherwise stressed me out.  I worry about who may be sick, if people are going to try and touch the boys, if I am going to have to go all Mama Bear on someone.  Luckily for my own anxiety level and for the boys health they are with me 99.9% of the time.  You can't control what you can't see, right?  And usually, I don't have anything to worry about.  Moms tell their kids not to touch the boys-usually.  People stay a healthy distance from them as they peer into their stroller-usually.  But, not all the time.  Some people just don't get it.  Its those people that scare me, terrify me, piss me off, and make me want to go all karate on their faces.

I have had to be the boys biggest advocate and I can truly say today, that I now understand why I am a nurse.  If for no other reason it gave me the knowledge, backbone and strength to make sure they had the best and brightest but with minimal invasion of their beings.  I am so thankful for all the life experiences that I had before these guys came into my life.  They made it possible for me to be comfortable enough in my own skin to challenge their nurses, question their doctors and to say to people...stay away.  It had turned into tunnel vision.  My only mission was to keep them healthy and home.  Joe usually defers to me in these situations.  If its medical, what I say goes.  But, when the weather started to get nicer he started to question the need for such a strict lock-down.  And with that questioning I started to waver in my resolve.  I allowed them to be exposed to new people.  And sure as shit, they both got sick.  With respiratory problems.  Bad enough so that I had to talk the urgent care doctor out of admitting Joey for his pneumonia.  So, the lock-down is back in place.  I don't know how long I will have to keep it in place.  But, for now, for my own sake if nothing else, it's there.  They may look amazing, but that doesn't change their beginnings.  That doesn't change the fact that a common cold for us can lead to breathing tubes and ICUs for my guys.  Hence the title of this.....my guys may look like regular babies, but they are not.  So, here's my explanation for why people can't hold them and get to know them. And I want to use this as an apology to everyone who wants to snuggle and cuddle and love on them.  We want those things for you and for them also, but I just can't do it. Not yet.  So, I am sorry.  This Mama Bear is putting her foot down.  I can't have it.  And to be honest I don't know when I will be comfortable with that idea.  So, please be patient with us.  And don't stop loving and praying for us from afar. <3

Forgotten Memories

The other day I was talking to my mom on the phone.  Our discussion centered around sleep or the lack there of for myself. With the boys being home I have definitely had to adjust to sleeping in spurts...a couple hours here, 30 minutes there.  Add in the fact that I am now back at work, on night shift, and well, sleep and I don't really know each other all that well at this moment in my life.  My mom's exact comment during this conversation that made me start thinking was "I wonder what you will remember about this year. Will it all just be a blur to you?".  I laughed at her, thinking it was very possible that when the boys are 5 or 10 and I look back at the first year of their lives that I just might not remember alot of stuff.  To be quite honest most days are just survival mode.  Sleep enough to not want to rip peoples' heads off.  Sleep enough to not be sick. Sleep enough to be safe taking care of peoples' lives.  Survival at it's finest:)  Now, of course I would love, LOVE to get more sleep.  If I could buy sleep somehow, at this point the cost wouldn't matter. I would soooo buy me some of that. Joe too, can't forget about that poor guy.  But, other than that part of all of this. I really wouldn't change much in my life at this very moment.  And because of that I am afraid that I am not going to remember alot.  And I want to. There are so many wonderful things that happen every day that I want to bottle and remember when I am 80 and sitting in my rocking chair next to Joey and we are re-hashing all the craziness our lives have been full of. 

Like what if I forgot how damn cute Meggie Rose is when she wants to say good night to her brothers and they are sleeping? She does this little ritual where she blows them a kiss and then hugs herself (I think its like blowing them a hug if that makes sense). And she never forgets to do it twice.
Or how that girl doesn't even have to glance at the baby and she knows immediately what boy it is. She has been able to do that since they were in the hospital.
Or Miss Grace and all her cuteness as a big-big sister? I walked in the room one day and she was sitting in the middle of two boppies with a bottle in each hand, feeding both boys. "Just like you, Mama" was her reply when I commented on it. Or how they are absolutely obsessed with her.  And Joe...those two walk in the house and those boys are breaking their necks to find them, look at them, get their attention and have them talk to them.  My theory on this is that Megs and I are home and with them so much that they take us for granted....that's what I tell myself anyways:)
Or Grace's song that she sings them...."If baby boy doesn't give Gracie a smile he doesn't get a hug!". Without fail they smile immediately at her...they are no fools...they want that sissy hug!
And then there's the boys themselves.  What if I forget Mr. Vinnie and his laughing spells at 5:30am that are so loud I worry he is going to wake his brother up (it doesn't help that it sends me into a giggling fit with him!). Or Joey's chunky thighs that I could seriously just eat them up.  What Joe looks like when I lay him down for tummy time, the boy seriously doesn't get the concept:) He rests on his belly and lifts his legs and arms up in the air, I guess maybe he's working on his core muscles? I don't know but it cracks me up every time!  And then there's Vinnie, whose poor head is so big that when he does tummy time he inevitably rolls to the side his head is slightly leaning to because he just can't hold that thing up. Seriously. I have to hold him straight or he immediately rolls onto his back-totally defeats tummy time!:)
What if I forget how incredible it feels to hold two babies in my arms at the same time?  Or how powerful I feel as a mommy when we have all survived one more day! Or how overwhelmed with love I become when my whole family is an arm's length away from me?

So, I can't lie and say these last 3 months have been pain-free and completely perfect.  But, I do know this. They have been full of love and great memories.  And we have made them at home. Together. And that's all I could ever ask for.  I just hope and pray that the lack of sleep in my life doesn't wipe my memory of all this. Because, I would do all of this again. In a heartbeat. If it meant this was my life...it wouldn't even be a question.

"Tis the Season

2011 Holiday Season is in the books. And, oh boy did we have fun!  Joe and I absolutely love Christmas and we have obviously passed on that love to our girls (and hopefully the twins also!).  I think that this past season has to be my all-time favorite.  For lots of reasons-the obvious being that the boys were home.  There were times during our hospitalization that I envisioned bringing decorations down to their room and having to decide how to celebrate with them even though their sisters wouldn't be able to visit them.  That was the worst-case scenario part of my brain working. Luckily I never had to put any of those plans into place. 

The less obvious reasons are how we spent our time and energy over the last few months.  Looking back all I can see and remember are all the great memories we made as a family.  And that is why I think this has been the best Christmas I have ever had.  Now, granted my kids received enough toys to open up their own store, so I can't say that we completely eliminated the consumerism and materialism that can be brought out this time of year.  But, we did so many other awesome things that I really believe counteracted those traits.

We braved the Minnesota winter and made our way to downtown Minneapolis to look at the Macy's holiday display and watch the Holidazzle parade...we even picked a great night, it was balmy 30 degrees!  We had our family pictures taken and even were able to take the whole family out to eat.  One of our favorite things to do, but takes considerable more planning with you are hauling around two infant car seats.  The girls and I baked and baked and baked.  We made cookies for our teachers and coaches.  For our local fire department and police station.  We sent cookies to our neighbors and friends.  This was not a Christmas where I could do alot of shopping since getting out of the house is almost a national holiday, but we had so many people we wanted to give to.  So, we gave cookies and homemade ornaments and we had so much fun together! 

We attended our first St. Jeromes fundraiser at Barnes and Noble.  Grace and Megan listened to stories, drank hot chocolate and hung out with their friends. We also had the treat of watching the entire St. Jeromes school put on a beautiful Christmas program. I have to give a big shout out the Mrs. Masson, their music teacher.  She did such an incredible job and it really showed in the program.  We read so many Christmas books that I lost track for Grace's reading sheet.  We watched Christmas movie after Christmas movie.  This is one source of great pride for me-the girls are officially hooked on Home Alone I and II and Elf.  Probably three of my favorite movies.  All time!  Now I have an excuse to watch them over and over again....the girls want to! 

We lit fires and made s'mores.  We played games in front of the fireplace.  Side note-both of the girls are very poor losers if you ever happen to play with them:)  Another side note-Joe and I are very competitive and have no problem beating the pants off of said children in a fierce game of Candyland:)

We donated food to the food shelf.  Baby stuff to a shelter for moms and their young children.  We cleaned out our house to make room for all the new stuff the kids received and they picked out toys they would like to give to kids who don't have nearly as much as they do. 

I was so proud of us.  We made this season about what is most important-family and giving.  And because of that I was really sad when it was over.  But, I know that next year things will be easier (and more organized-I made a few lists for 2012 already:)) and I am hoping that we continue to make great family memories and traditions for our kids to enjoy.  I hope everyone had an equally great season and that 2012 brings everyone happiness, joy and peace.

The I-94 Corridor

I-94...between St. Paul and Minneapolis.  A road that I have traveled-many, many times.  But, yesterday we went to the holiday display at Macys and the Holidazzle parade.  Which meant that we took that road. It was the first time that I had traveled that way since my boys have been home.  And, I can't lie, once that realization kicked in I became slightly teary-eyed.  And it took me back.  The babes have been home for six weeks, which really isn't that long, but our time at Minneapolis Childrens seems like a lifetime ago. We ended up in Minneapolis because my doctors work out of Abbott, not United.  We never would have choose to go to Minneapolis.  We are St. Paulites....yes that is a phrase....we had planned on being at United or Regions, but I truly believe that fate brought us over there.  And so when we were offered the chance to transfer the babies over to St. Paul Childrens we politely (but fiercely) declined.  Minneapolis was our hospital, you don't walk away from the people who have known your babies for their short, event-filled lives unless you have to.  We kept them there because we knew that was what was best for them.  But, that doesn't mean that I didn't grow to hate that stretch of highway between the two cities. Now, I realize hate is a strong word-I choose it purposefully.  Because, I hated driving there and back.  I was almost always alone.  And always driving away from people I love and wanted to be with.  And driving was a necessity but I just wanted to get to my destination.  Whether I was driving to the hospital or going home...I just wanted to be there.  And since I was almost always alone it left me to be in my own brain.  Whew.....scary shit happens in there. And I almost always cried.  Maybe just a few tears or a full-blown sob fest.  But, I cried.  I cried every time I left the parking lot of the hospital. I cried because time slowed down and I could think about what was behind us or I could think about what was in front of us.  I cried for my babies, for me, my kids, Joe.......it sucked.

I always hoped that I would have one of those wonderful, soul-cleansing cries-for me they used to always happen in the shower.  A boy dumped me....cry it out in the shower and move on.  Fail a test.....cry it out and get over it.  But, this was so different.  There was no moving on or getting over it.  I couldn't completely lose my mind. I had to stay pulled together and clear-headed.  There were too many things to worry about, monitor, take care of . But, in the car I had nothing else to do.  I don't text, I try not to talk on the phone.  All I could do is drive and listen to music....and think.  It was in those rare moments when my brain went to the place I had mostly forbidden to go.  The bad, what-ifs place.  The place where I stored all my worries and concerns and over-reactions. 

But, I didn't just cry about sad, bad things.  I cried many tears of joy down that road.  Tears of joy that I was simply able to drive to my babies.  Joy that I would be able to touch them, hold them when I got there.  Because as bad as it was for us....there were so many facing much worse.  Tears of relief when they would hit a milestone or pass a test.  There is a song "Good Life" by One Republic, that became my anthem.  Were we in a hard situation? Absolutely.  But, there was so much good to be recognized.  My boys were there, they survived, they were progressing...slowly, but steadily.  I was lucky enough to have option of being there every day.  I have a husband who supported me in every possible way he was capable of.  I have an employer who wants me back, but when I was mentally and emotionally and physically ready to be back, not because a certain amount of time had passed. I had a vehicle to drive there.  We had money to park and eat and all the other odd things that come up in that type of situation.  We had great childcare and an endless list of people willing to take the girls...just to help.  We have a huge network of family and friends who loved and supported us.  I mean it literally makes me ache a little bit when I think of all the love that I felt, all the prayers, all the good thoughts that came our way through this.  I met alot of people who didn't have half that list.  Who didn't drive or have a car.  People who didn't have family or friends.  Moms who had to go back to work before they were ready.  Babies who didn't have any family around them.  All I had to do was focus on my little men.  That is called being blessed. 

I don't think that I will ever be able to drive down 94 and not get emotional.  I know that as time passes the emotions will dull.  But, they will always be there- as a reminder of the good life I have and just how wonderfully lucky I am to live the life I have.    

Despicable Me

Yet another reference to kiddo TV.  But, it is how I how felt over these last few months. Now that my boys are home I don't have any time to do anything except be a mommy to all 4 of my wonderful, beautiful, yet energy-draining children:)  But, that wasn't always the truth.  When the boys were in the hospital I had a lot of time to just sit.  Sit and watch babies sleep and grow.  Sitting wasn't good for me. I needed to be busy. Because when I was sitting I was thinking, thinking about this whole situation.  Thinking about the bad, the good, the crazy and the wonderful.  Trust me when I say that this situation has not be only bad or horrible or sad.  We were very lucky, very blessed.  And it makes me feel horrible to even have emotions other than happiness when I would see parents and kids going through so much worse every day I was at Childrens.

But, in the dark, hidden places in my brain and heart I feel guilt.  I feel responsible.  I feel horrible.  I take my job as a mommy very seriously. Some of you may know that Joe and I have had to use fertility help to have each and every child we have been blessed with.  So, they were all conscious decisions.  And from the moment we decided to be pregnant I was in mommy mode.  And the first all-important job of a mommy (in my mind anyways) is to provide my babies with a great nine months of being in my belly.  And I failed my precious boys in the very first job as a mommy to them.  There I said it. I failed as their mommy.  And because of my failure they had to endure so, so, so much.  And there was nothing I could do.  I couldn't stop it, I couldn't help them.  And they had to go through it so they could survive and get a chance at life.  Because I couldn't bake my bundles of joy long enough they had to go through intubation, IV insertions, lab sticks, tubes down their noses, down their mouths.  They had to be handled by hundreds of random strangers.  They went to bed in a strange place without their family by their side. So, my thoughts went like this..."If only I had kept them in me longer they wouldn't have to go through NG tubes.  If only they wouldn't have to have random strangers calm them down. If only they could be sleeping at home." 

The fact is that I couldn't have stayed pregnant any longer.  Not if I wanted to be here right now, able-bodied and somewhat healthy.  Because the truth is I was closer to death then I care to admit.  I was closer to doing permanent damage to my body that could have been life-altering.  I get that, I get it more and more as time elapses.  To give my babies their mommy I had to give up my control over life-mine and theirs.  I know this, but I don't like it.  And my brain understands that I shouldn't have guilt, that I did everything I possibly could to keep them healthy for as long as I could.  My heart, well she's a different story. I don't think that there is anything, ever that will make it change how she feels.  As time passes and the boys, God-willing, continue to grow and prosper, the guilt will get less, won't be so prevalent.  But, it will always be there.  And it will sneak up on me at random moments.  Like today when my lil men had to have two nurses come out the the house and give them the first of five shots to prevent RSV this winter.  Something we have to do, something that I would never even consider not doing, but something that is only being done because they were born so damn early.  And there is that guilt again.

An Attitude of Gratitude

*****I want to start off this blog by saying that this was written back when the boys were still hospitalized.  I had every intention of finishing it.  And actually, today was going to re-start it, but I didn't want to lose what I had already done. I didn't want to erase these emotions and thoughts.  So, I am publishing it un-finished.  Because I need these words out there and out of my head.  I have a feeling there may be a part II to this, but for now here it is.  Now, I can go forward with other blogs that are half finished or floating in my head.

If you are a Spongebob fan then you may recognize my title.  And I realize that Spongebob has taken a hit in the media recently, but unless you've watched him then don't knock him!:)  He actually has a great attitude about life and work and being happy.  But, this phrase has popped in my head numerous times over these last few months...since being hospitalized and having the babies.  I have said this many times, but I have to say it again-I have been humbled and overwhelmed by the love, support and caring that we received in our moments of crises.  From our closest friends and families to random strangers. 

I remember a moment when I was hospitalized but still pregnant.  I think it was the second day I was there.  I was on bedrest, being given Magnesium to stop the contractions and help the boys' neurological development, and I was completely exhausted.  Looking back on it all, I think my body had hit it's breaking point. Joe was sitting next to me, I could barely keep my eyes open to look at him.  I kept insisting that he go home, he didn't have to sit there and stare at me while I slept and that was all i was going to do.  That was all I had done since being admitted to the hospital. I felt horrible-my head was throbbing, I was burning up and couldn't eat.  He finally relented and agreed that he would go home and try to get some stuff done and then get some sleep.  I asked him if  before he left he could bring me stuff to brush my teeth.  As I tried to sit up in bed, I couldn't.  I could not muster up the strength to sit up.  Even with my strong husband trying to help me I couldn't do it. I couldn't support myself sitting up.  So, we used the bed to sit me up, kind of, so I could brush my teeth.  Joe finished helping me and then actually went home for the night.  And I laid there.  All alone, in a room only lit up by the continuous baby monitor lights and cried.  How had I gotten to the point where I couldn't sit up?  How had I gotten so sick?  I was terrified. What if this was just a sign of things to come?  I pride myself on being active and busy.  What if that part of me was gone? And I thought "wow, I am never going to take THAT for granted"....just the ability to sit up.  Such a simple activity, a task we complete without even considering it, it's so ingrained in how our bodies function. And moments like that have kept happening. 
How could I not be grateful?  I gave birth to my beautiful boys at 29 weeks pregnant.  And they are here.  I get to visit them every day, to hold them and love them.  We have been surrounded by a whole gangle of people who are doing nothing but loving us and supporting us.  Our family-Joe's mom, my parents and siblings, aunts and uncles, cousins, grandma and grandpa-such a great group of people who have remained steadfast in their support of us.  What a huge proverbial rock we have to lean on.  And lean we have had to.  This has been an experience that requires us to ask for help, something that we both hate to do. Then there is everyone at the hospital.  Our temporary home away from home.  People there do an incredible job everyday. Not only taking care of our boys, but also us.

Puh-lease!

I don't know about everyone else out there but there are a few things that are going on in our state and country that I am SOOOO sick of hearing about.  Now, I will always be sick to my stomach when there are stories about child abuse and murders and drunk drivers and whatnot.  But, that is not what I am talking about today.  While those things are horrible, unfortunately since we are a free country people are probably always going to think that they have a right to make bad decisions.  Plus, I feel so strongly about child abuse and drunk drivers that if I decided to blog about those topics today I would totally get off of my subject at hand.  So, here it goes....

First-I really, really, really I mean really don't want to hear about the NFL and their trade negoitations anymore.  And while we're talking about it I don't care about the NBA either.  Unfortunately I probably hear more than the average person because of my husband's obsession with ESPN and Sports Center.  It is SO frustrating to hear a bunch of grown men (and a few women, I am sure) whine and complain about how they are going to divide up billions of dollars.  I actually hope that they don't sign the agreement that is front of them right now.  Make them feel some pain from this stupid, asinine argument they are having.  Because the fact is, they SHOULDN'T have billions of dollars to divide up.  They play a sport.  A child's game. And make obscene amounts of money to do so. And yet have some of the worst behavior in our society.  Their franchises contain murderers, women and children abusers, repeat drug offenders, animal killers, drunk drivers, illegal gun carriers.  And what does our society do?  We reward this above the law behavior with more money and clout.  And the NBA players?  Kobe Bryant refused a $500,000 a month contract because he is worth a minimum of one million dollars a month.  $500,000 A  MONTH!??????  He refused that?  Something is wrong with our world if a man refuses that much money to play a game.  Get over yourself.  (For full disclosure I really don't care for him as a person-pretty sure he is a rapist that got away with it my smearing his victim, at the very least he is a cheater).  So, to all these so-called grown-ups I say SHUT UP!  I don't want to hear anymore about it.  If they sign a deal, okay, I guess it should be reported on in the news, but give it the attention it deserves-a 30 second spiel and move on to MUCH MORE important things.

Now, onto our fabulous, wonderful political system.  WTF!  Seriously, people. This is how our country is ran?  These are the people we vote for?  Do they really, seriously believe that when the citizens of this country went out and voted that we were hoping for this kind of behavior?  All I have heard about in these last few months is how the Democrats and Republicans have been fighting and arguing about budgets and money and taxes and debt ceilings.  Blah. My personal opinion on the whole Minnesota budget is that while I don't object to raising taxes on the richest people in this state, I don't believe that we should do so just to generate new income.  We spend too much money as it is as a government.  I think that was evident when the state shut down and we actually saw how many different programs and businesses depend on the government.  Now, some of those businesses were at the mercy of the government because of licensing and other issues along those lines.  But, I truly believe that a smaller government is better.  And the fact is that we give away a lot of money all the time to people and businesses who don't need it.  Who could be taking care of themselves but choose, CHOOSE not to.  For some reason we reward people who make poor and bad decisions in their lives.  But, I am seriously not going to go there in this post. And why is it that this politicians continued to get paid for their inactivity?  In any other job, if the work didn't get done you would be fired and not paid.  But, not when you work at the capital.  Such a joke.  And as for the national debt ceiling and budget debate....I have purposefully tried to not listen to much of this simply because it is so frustrating to even think about.  My take-away from this is-it's very similar to an individual who has a credit card.  They call the credit card company and ask for a credit limit increase based on the fact that if they don't get more money they won't be able to continue to pay their bills.  And people in this country and around the world wonder why Americans deal with money and finances in the way that they do.  Spend money we don't have, expect it to always work out for the best-not plan for the worst and live for today not the future.  Well, duh!  Look at how our government is ran?  What other behavior would you expect?  It's very similar to parenting.  You tell and preach to your kids to not hit, but then they see dad smack mom and they think it's okay-based on the behavior.  I think that we need to do away with these stupid politician parties.  That way there are no "political lines" to adhere to or not to cross.   

 

I really need to stop watching so much darn TV, it can not be helping my poor blood pressure!