A babies story. Part 2.

We found out at about 12 weeks that we had a condition called a placenta previa.  Under normal circumstances, it's very common and usually takes care of itself in the first trimester.  But, of course, because we were having twins, and because things I do rarely seem to be normal, ours hadn't improved and by 25 weeks, the doctors seemed concerned that it wouldn't.  They warned us against going on our annual summer trip to New England and the cottage in Canada but I suppose we were naive and really had no idea just how serious the condition was so we went anyway.  I did do the necessary research beforehand and located NICUs along the way just in case.  It was a wonderful trip...

Wilderness 101, PA

Bender loves hotel rooms

27 weeks in CT

Picnicking in MA

Watching the rain outside our cabin in CT

Rock designs on the deck in Canada

Front porch sittin

Amazing beach this year

Bailey soaks up sand like a sponge

I walked every day, slept a ton, ate ice cream every night, enjoyed good company and fell in love with being pregnant and seemingly weightless in the water.  I felt great.

Week 27.  It was early August and we had just gotten back from our trip the week before.  It was a normal evening and we went to bed early.  I got up at some point in the early morning (or late night - depending on where you are in life) and had our first "episode".  I'm going to refer to them as this because it's less graphic and I just don't want to say it.  It's my blog, so there.  We rushed to the hospital and spent about 18 hours checked in.  I can remember the room and how it was set up.  We met "Linda's house of pain" and got my first adrenaline shot.  I don't even drink caffeine so those shots, although pretty great at slowing contractions, sucked.  I got my first experience with the fetal monitors and how they itched and Dave had to sleep on a pull out metal pillow they referred to as a cot.  I was put on limited activity and sent home to rest. 

We made it another 2 weeks and after coming home from work with a stray dog, we had our second episode.  Strike two.  They were only giving us three before they would have to deliver the babies for my own protection so having only made it two weeks, we were worried.  They kept us for 6 days this time and when we finally did go home, it was on bed rest with almost no activity.  I really thought at first that I was going to be the worst bed rest person ever but I realized a few days in that it was the only time I had slowed down enough to actually enjoy and spend serious quality time with my pregnancy and finally get to know these babies... as much as you can through skin, organs, and about 30 pounds of fluid retention anyways.  So I read, slept, watched the first five seasons of Greys Anatomy, counted contractions during the "witching hour", sat outside when it wasn't 100 degrees, and tried not to panic at the thought of what might be right around the corner and far too early. 

I was also growing tired of being in public anyways and answering the many repetitive and very personal questions that seem to come with a pregnant belly.  I've never been good at being the center of attention and very much enjoy my anonymity when I can get it.  As a mother of twins, and starting to look like it, you become a walking spectacle.  I should have had an XL t-shirt that said:  "Yes, I'm aware of how large I am (but thanks for that).  I'm having twins.  Yes, I'm sure there are two (the eight limbs kicking me all night is kind of a tip off.  Plus, we've seen this amazing little thing called an ultrasound as proof).  Yes, we know the sexes, it's a boy and a girl.  *Smile*  I know, it's the perfect family.  No, we didn't try for twins (whatever that means).  Yes, we conceived them naturally and without drugs (seriously?!).  No, they don't run in our family.  Sure, you can touch my belly but only if I can touch yours.  Yes, I'm aware of how hard it's going to be (once again, thanks for that though).  Yes, I'm trying to sleep extra now (mostly because people like YOU keep telling me just how much sleep I'm not going to get when they arrive).  Yes, I know I'll need help (but I'd like you to know, I'm not retarded).  Yes, we're very excited.

So long, ankles.

A gardening project that would have to wait.

Feet up.  Strict prescription of boredom.

30 weeks, front yard.

My amazing husband organized a group online risk game.  I won.  Though I'm pretty sure people let me have it once I said the game was giving me contractions.  :)

32 weeks. 

Grotesquely large.

A lot of people have asked me if the episodes were painful.  I really don't think they were.  I had some pretty serious contractions but I think I was so worried and amped up every time that I didn't notice any pain.  Just worry.  I remember setting mini goals in half weeks and celebrating the milestones.  That's what it had come to.  Our goal of course was 38 weeks but from the way everyone was talking, we were lucky to get every day we did. 

We made it to 32 and a half when the third episode came and, just as they had warned, it was the worst.  It was so scary.  We grabbed our already packed bag (we were pros by this point) and I remember shaking and trying so hard to stay calm.  Luckily they were able to get everything under control once again, but this time there was no going home.  So we did the best we could to make ourselves comfortable and settle in for an unknown set of time and an even more uncertain outcome.  The new hospital helped a lot.  I loved our nurses too and Dave was incredible.  There are few more humbling experiences than peeing in a bucket or wearing mesh hospital grade booty shorts and his largest t-shirt but he took it all in stride, remaining calm, asking questions, and staying with me every night.

In hindsight, I'm really glad I didn't know just how serious it all was.  That they had put us in the room directly across from the OR on purpose.  That by making us stay in the hospital, it really meant that being 25 minutes away was too far for our safety.  That we had only the most seasoned nurses assigned to us.  That when they said every day mattered to our babies' lives, it really did.  In some cases, ignorance really is bliss.   

Soooo itchy.  Sleep was elusive.

See?  No sleep.  Or much showering.  Gross.

The day before we delivered.

  September 22nd.  About 34 weeks.  I spent the day as I did every other that week, taking meds, watching the monitors, staying distracted, and dreading every trip to the bucket.  That evening, around 9pm we snuggled into bed together and started watching Any Given Sunday, a favorite movie of ours.  Dave was out of the room for the final episode and I remember calling to him in a panic, him running to get nurses and then getting my clothes taken off, monitors hooked up, doctors coming in and out, and consent forms to sign.  It all happened so fast.  I think the whole thing started at 10:15pm and the babies were born shortly after 11pm.

They wheeled us to the OR and decided, thank goodness, that general anesthesia wasn't necessary.  I remember feeling so heavy and large as they moved me from the cot to the table and smelling cigarette smoke on someone nearby.  It was so hot in there.  Dave came in dressed in scrubs and started talking to me about the day we met and other wonderfully distracting details from our life.  When the babies came out ("we've got fat babies here!"), they brought them over to say hello before whisking them off for... whatever it is they do.  That moment was surreal.  I remember thinking that I should feel this amazing connection to them, like you've heard so many other mothers say.  Like when you're standing at the altar on your wedding day and you want to feel like it's only the two of you but all you can really feel are the dozens of eyes watching you in your most intimate moment.  It's very surreal.

They finished working on me and I went into recovery, waiting for word that the babies were doing ok.  I remember my nose itching and talking to the nurse about something... I have no idea what.  I think I slept a bit, it was almost 4 in the morning.  Dave came and got me and we went to see them for the first time.  They were so small.  I was getting nauseous and we were both so tired that we went to our new room and tried to sleep before waking up and starting to spread the news of our babies' birth.

Rowan Michael Tevendale:  5lbs. 1oz.  Born 11:06pm.

Avery Rooke Tevendale:  4lbs. 13ozs.  Born 11:07pm.

Next up:  bad news and a move to the NICU.

A babies story. Part 1.

I have a feeling this might be overly positive.  Like a wound you get from your favorite trail or a loss you watch from your favorite team, time has a way of healing those negative experiences, sending you back down the same line or cheering from the couch the very next weekend.  I have to think that pregnancy is similar.  It's hard, uncomfortable, filled with self doubt and mystery, steeped in anxiety over the delivery, and completely humiliating when it comes to bodily functions.  But, like most difficult things, our minds have a way of making peace with the experience even leading us to believe that it would be something we would do again.

That's how I feel our pregnancy was.  It was amazing.  I look back on it now and the drama, bed rest, uncertainty, fear, and overall... largeness, was only a small percentage to the incredible feeling of creating life.  But we'll get to that.

Heading into the holiday season in 2010, I had just finished a pretty grueling race season and we had traveled every chance we got, in a way knowing what we had in store for 2011.  It was an amazing but sort of bittersweet summer for me.  I really felt like we were going into the next "step" ready but acknowledging that things would be very different for a while.  Leaving out the details of course, we started 'not not trying' in December.  It was really fun, and not for the obvious reasons :) but because it felt like we were hiding a secret from the rest of the world, a concept that once you're pregnant and have kids becomes annoyingly less and less possible.

It took three months.  For some reason, and I know 3 months is nothing in comparison to some, but I hadn't expected it to take any time at all and definitely wasn't prepared for the questions and insecurities that would come with something like this taking 3 months.  I remember being confused and happy with my disappointment but disappointed all the same.  By month 3, I had made peace with it and wasn't even paying attention really.  Ok, that's a lie but that month, I didn't tell Dave when we could take the test because honestly it broke my heart every time I had to tell him it would be at least another 4 long weeks.  That something we were doing wasn't working.  It was a very small glimpse into what I can only imagine is a horrible place too many women have to go in their minds when they can't have a baby right away, or at all.

The morning of March 5th, I was up at 4am to leave and volunteer at CRC's Spring Classic 5k.  I was due to find out that next day but obviously was thinking about it so I took the test.  Positive.  I remember getting weak in the knees and having to sit on the side of the tub for a few minutes.  Wake him up?  I really didn't want to throw that at him in a groggy state so I went to the race.  I had also devised a cute plan to tell him and couldn't believe it was time to put that into play.  After a very surreal morning (I remember trying not to smile as much as I wanted to), I went to Bodos and bought us breakfast.  I had gotten a onsie that had "Daddy's team 2011" on it, put it in the breakfast bag, and wrote "I love you" on the outside.  He came in from doing trail work and sat on the couch next to me.  I remember shaking as he opened it.  He said "awww" and then didn't get what I was trying to tell him.  I laughed and watched as it gradually sunk in.  "Wait.  Really?  Wow.  Are you ok?"  It was perfect.

Five weeks in and I was feeling fine.  "Our secret" was causing some nausea in the mornings but mostly just a dehydrated, sort of hangover feeling which was easily taken care of with some fruit and lots of water.  I LOVED fruit.  To the point where I could eat a whole watermelon in two days max.  I have no idea how but I got off so lucky with the sickness thing.  I'm not sure Leslie will ever let me live it down.  Week 9.  I was having some cramping and had just gone in for our first prenatal visit so the doctor ordered an ultrasound just to be sure.  She casually mentioned something like 1 in 4 pregnancies are lost "but I'm sure it's nothing".  Ok... so we had to wait a few days and then found ourselves in the dark looking at something minuscule and foreign on a screen.

Chuckle.  The technician chuckled.  I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have done that if we were miscarrying so I was totally lost as to what was going on.  "Well, I've got some news for you guys."  Oh yeah?  "You're having twins."

Long pause.

I think I laughed hysterically for ten minutes.  It was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard and I vaguely remember looking at Dave and saying "what did we do?!"  Having at last heard the heartbeat, um heartbeats, we decided to go public.  Family first.  I had of course already called Leslie.  I think she said she had to sit down.  Cam was at OCS school in the Navy.  I called him from the car, he was at chow time and told everyone around him.  Mom got worried because I think she knew what a complicated and potentially dangerous road we were about to go down - I'll always appreciate her letting me stay as positive as possible even when she knew how bad it was.  Dad, after a long pause, simply said "you're fucked."  Still makes me laugh.  We told Janet and Rick at their place, walking hand in hand down the driveway holding our ultrasound pictures.  We told Jenny and Shawn at the bike shop, signaling in a peace sign across the room that "there were two".  I got a "shut up" from Marcee, told Allison over lunch, laughing from Katherine, the sound of footsteps stopping from Liz, hugs and tears from a pregnant Mary Frances, and an "are we having two babies?" correction from Jess. 

I don't really remember anything detailed for a few weeks after that.  I got into more yoga than running, more sleep than activity.  I was incredibly fortunate that we had saved and could pay the bills on one income, I really think that had a huge part of how good I felt.  We read 'this week your baby is the size of a lemon' books and starting nesting around the house, moving Dave's office out to the shed and finally putting into play the new house construction loans.  We started having weekly dates and spent a lot of time together, quietly bonding while talking about our fears and excitements.  I loved these few months.  I felt safe and taken care of, beautiful and, other than the weekly panicked phone calls to Les, ready for the different experience that twins would certainly be.

To be continued when the Broncos aren't losing in the playoffs and my husband doesn't need some hand holding.  :)

Stars and time.

I should look at the stars more often.  I feel like I used to.  I have memories of sitting in various places I've lived or traveled and taking the time to notice the sky.  Tonight during the evening ritual we refer to as "one last potties" (our long standing attempt at making sure the big dog doesn't pee all over our kitchen while we're sleeping), I turned off my headlamp and looked up.  I actually still recognized a few of the constellations and it struck me that I haven't gazed upward at night for a long time.  Like years.  Why?

My first thought was that I don't have time.  When I was in possession of enough free time to spare looking around and not directly forward to my destination, I was younger.  I didn't have family and jobs and specific goals and houses and dependents.  Now, if I'm outside, chances are I have limited time and it's spent burning calories or getting things done.  Hard to stare glossy eyed into the abyss when you're carrying 8 bags of groceries.

Then I thought that it's not that time of year.  It's been unseasonably warm this fall and winter and although the stars seem to shine the brightest around now - probably due to the lack of tree coverage - I just don't think we're hardwired to stop and spend some bonus time outdoors in January when the mercury is usually bottoming out around 20.  It's hunker down time, and that's mostly done indoors.

I also considered that I am pretty familiar with my surroundings here.  I've lived in this area for 6 years now, not to mention my entire childhood, and when looking around, I feel pretty certain that I know what to expect.  I use phrases like "the trail next to the 'sitting tree'" or "the climb next to the red house on the pond" to describe local places.  I remember playing a game in my parents car when I was a kid, sitting in the back with my eyes closed, picturing all the turns as we drove them, knowing exactly what was outside down to what type of fence or christmas lights each house had.  There's a comfort that comes with that familiarity but also a lack of necessity to explore what else might be out there.  To look around for more.

Lastly, I settled on the fact that when I used to look up, I think I was wondering what the future would hold.  Like sitting at the ocean, staring at the stars and their vastness, I always felt most that the possibilities were endless.  A day dreamers blank canvas I guess.  Maybe once you get older, some of those possibilities are narrowed down and the need to go looking for answers isn't quite as pressing. 

Either way, I'm glad I noticed.  I'd like to think it'll make me slow down and look around a little more often but who knows. 

Life is busy.  In all the best ways.

Gasp.

That's me.  Coming up for air.

It's been a life changing 6 months and I'm of course finding it hard to know where to start.  Over the craziness that was our 2011, I have been making mental notes of things I'd like to write about here.  SO, in an effort to get back on board the blogging train - new resolutions and all that - look for these topics in the next month year or so.  Ish.  :)
          - Pregnancy summary
          - NICU notes
          - Baby wishes
          - Budding personalities
          - Kid obsession - healthy or not?  And I'm not talking about mine.

Since my last post I've added the following talents to my resume, including but not limited to: changing a diaper in less than 10 seconds, feeding two infants at once, burping two infants at once, making mac-n-cheese a gourmet meal, sleeping standing up, running slower than I can walk, averaging three weeks to return emails and phone calls, and so many other things that I never thought I'd admit to.  People always tell you that you'll understand when you have kids.  That you'll suddenly just get how 3am becomes a normal hour to catch up on your news headlines or how you'll maintain a threat level orange hatred of an inanimate object such as your baby monitor.   While all those things are true and completely foreign, hard, and not where I ever thought I'd be... it is all inexplicably worth it.

 
More to come.

A lesson in parenting

I had plans today.  Plans to work, to get caught up around the house, to organize, to take care of myself, to follow a schedule.  I did not have plans to go to sleep with blurred vision, be overwhelmed by exhaustion for 10 hours, wake up and add a headache to the continuing vision problems, spend my morning worrying and my afternoon in the doctor's office and then back in bed.  That is what I didn't have planned.

But today was yet another example of why I have come believe without a doubt that we're given 9 months to experience this process for a reason.  The physical changes I was prepared for.  The thickening skin, the widening hips, the belly, the boobs (not necessarily a bad thing), the slowing of activity, the constant potty trips, the ups and downs between feeling beautiful and feeling fat, all of it.  What I wasn't prepared for was the emotional transition.  The shift between being a woman who is caring of others but mostly living her own agenda to a... mom, the most selfless of creatures.

I would love to say that I have gone through this shift effortlessly and without rebellion but that would definitely be lying.  When I was sitting in the parking lot after my doctors appointment today, under advice from our physician and 2 people that I love to go home, to rest, to put these babies first, of course I felt like it was the right thing to do but I also felt, being totally honest here, disappointed in the afternoon that I wasn't going to have because of it all.

So, lesson #1 of  3,529,488 (and probably more):  

it's not all about you anymore.

Lesson #2 of 3,529,488:  

be flexible with your time and your plans.

In other news, we've been spending some very quality time together as a family.

 We've been nesting.

 

But not without incident.  Not to worry, all is fine.  Just a slight mishap with an automatic drill and my dear husband's thumb.  Note to self:  add pain relieving spray to our first aid kit.

We've been volunteering.

And we've been perfecting some much needed talents.

That's the Bailey Bee.  Don't make fun, she takes it very seriously.

Insert a sufficient enough title to encompass the news of having twins here

Yup.  It's been a big spring.  I'm not sure why I even feel the need to document or announce the news here, anyone who actually reads this probably already knows and it's not like I'll need a "awww look what happened to us in the spring of 2011" type of reminder in a few years.  Chances are, the reminders teething and clearing out my pots and pans - again - will be reminder enough. 

So, twins.  I'm sure I'll elaborate on the oh so many emotions I've been having the past few months coming to terms and getting excited about these little ones (or "monsters" as Dave calls them) soon enough but for now, here's our 18 week pictures of the belly.

Side note:  this is why I don't blog very often.  On average, it'll take me 10 minutes to upload one photo.  My poor old mac is finding it difficult to open the internet and iphoto all at once.  You should feel how hot the main drive is right now.  There is either a new computer in my future which, with the whole twins bit coming along in a few months will be hard to justify, or a much more comfortable computer chair. 

Ok, pictures pictures...

My lighting stand-in / genius photographer / babies daddy.

48 hours of Spring

I can't explain it.  I found out tonight that we've actually had less snow than some places in Georgia this winter.  So why has the past few months felt like a never ending cold, cloudy, brown, wet day?  I could probably have the same sort of spring fever living in Wisconsin, and at least have snow.  Which will never happen, rest assured.  The Wisconsin part. 

Side note:  Tosh.O is amazing.
Second side note:  Why is Mike Tyson on the Animal Planet channel?

I love snow.  It's clean, soft, quiet, cozy, and usually shuts all normal ways of life down unexpectedly which can be a really nice change of pace.  What I don't love is 35 degrees and rain.  And you'd think by the way I'm pouting over the length of this season that we have had nothing but cold and rain.  But we're actually in a drought.  Well, not after today I suppose.

* UNTIL 1000 PM EST

* AT 653 PM EST EMERGENCY MANAGMENT OFFICIALS ARE REPORTING FLOODING
WITHIN THE WARNING AREA.

A FLOOD WARNING MEANS THAT FLOODING IS IMMINENT OR HAS BEEN REPORTED.
STREAM RISES WILL BE SLOW AND FLASH FLOODING IS NOT EXPECTED.
HOWEVER...ALL INTERESTED PARTIES SHOULD TAKE NECESSARY PRECAUTIONS
IMMEDIATELY. 

So, again, I can't explain it.  And I don't feel unhappy.  Exactly the opposite actually, things are really great.  I'm just so ready for warm weather and abundant sunshine.

Hence our recent trip for Jonecoates-palooza in Miami.  Nick had to move down there for work and while we were super sad to see them go, having an excuse to visit a place that averages 80 degrees and sunny in February almost makes up for the loss.  Almost.

Stepping off the plane, I felt like I was breathing more deeply almost immediately.  The cancer I developed from said deep inhalations and the cloud of exhaust that is MIA will almost certainly be worth it, I'm sure.  We spent the whole weekend outside.  Walking, riding, sitting in the grass, staring at fake boobs, watching the sunset, cleaning sand from our feet, awing the Florida version of the New Jersey guido, changing outfits at least three times a day to get the most use out of tank tops and skirts I hadn't seen in months.

 
 It was great.  Exactly what we needed.  We spent a lot of the plane ride home (when not scared for our lives - crazy wind storm) talking about how we could get a little more of that into our daily lives here.  What we came up with was less on the weekends, or maybe just less altogether.  Which is hard to do with what we have coming up but we're going to try.  Also viewing a weekend trip as a needed release and not just something else we're taking on.  The break from our house hold to-do lists is mandatory.  It's a state of mind.

Here's a video to make all you out there with a foot of snow still on the ground jealous.  Notice the green leaves, sunshine, gators, and most importantly Dave's banana seat beach cruiser.

Stay warm, the end is in sight.

Entitlement

Here's the true definition, or one of them.

Entitlement:  belief that one is deserving of or entitled to certain privileges.  

Anyone who knows me well has heard my disdain for this personality trait.  I truly believe that it is the worst human characteristic we have within ourselves.  Remove it and all evil doings will disappear as well.  Think about it.  You only have to change the meaning of "privileges" and you'll cover most injustices.  From the larger, more awful ones to the lesser thought of ones like disrespect, ungratefulness, or spoiled behavior.  

I am here to officially announce that I too have succumbed to the entitlement pressure.  I have become increasingly rude and presumptuous over the past 6 weeks and would like to henceforth apologize to anyone I have mistreated in my recent pedestal climbing ways.  

My Privilege?

As a law abiding, tree planting, hard working citizen of this world, I demand that warmer temperatures return immediately.  Looking out our windows into a brown, lifeless forest is no longer romantic or snuggly.  The dark mornings and brisk, windy runs have gone from refreshing to annoying.  I'm sure all of these feelings will return next fall but for now, enough is enough.  

I am whining.  But as someone who rarely complains and who tries in earnest to keep her needs at a minimum,  I am cashing in on all of my pent up resistance to self-entitled jerks and using it here.  Bring me the sun.

These faces would sure appreciate it.  As would my appallingly pasty legs.

Thanks.

I might be biased.

Last post:  Sept. 8, 2010.  And that one was done by Dave.  I'm pretty sure I haven't written anything here since May.  ish.

I of course had big things in mind for this blog.  Every holiday season, I'd get the year printed in one of those cute little photo blog book things and save it for us to reminisce back on whenever we wanted a stroll down memory lane.  But, turns out, there isn't much time for blogging when you're leaving jobs, traveling the country, enjoying the holidays, becoming a famous magazine photographer :), and, well... living.  And, the way I see it, if there isn't much time for blogging, there sure as hell won't be much time for reminiscing anytime in the near future so I'm giving myself a break.  Which is hard for someone (a perfectionist) like me to do.

So, as Les and I decided last night (I'll call you back tomorrow, by the way), sometimes there are just too many details to catch up on and the best thing to do is talk about what's going on now and let the rest be.

Done.

One of the reasons I love taking pictures is that it forces you see the world more specifically.  You're constantly looking for an alternate way to capture the world around you.  Different angles.  Varying light.  It makes you see details that I think would otherwise become part of the overall scene and go unnoticed.  Or, at times, you make a deal with yourself to leave that particular moment alone and record it only to memory.

Blogs strike me as the same sort of temporarily captured moments, like the verbal version of photos.  A lot of the time they seem like thoughts the authors had processed or explored that day or week.  If you know them well enough, sometimes you can even hear that person saying the words and using the phrases.  Dave is an incredible writer.  Funny, candid, honest, conversational, and relatable.

You can check out his blog here.  He's also recently gotten a piece published in the latest edition of XXC magazine.  Page 24.  And, yes, that's me riding his literary coattails and stealing the photo credits.

I think one of the reasons he's so good is that he writes mainly about riding, something we all know he loves more than most things.  Granted, he studied writing in school and that certainly has a presence in the structure and layout of his work, but mostly, he just loves his topic.  When you adore something like that, you want to research it, need to spend time thinking about it, can't wait to look at it from another angle.  He's a perfect example of loving something so much that being good at it is just a natural progression.  A lot like the way he rides actually.

There's a lesson in that.  Loving something, or maybe someone, to the point where you just can't help but do it well.

So on this Valentine's Day eve, what or who do you love that much?

This just in...

Colorado also kicks ass.