Author: balfourvt

Let’s go back to Friday, February 23^rd…

I was pregnant. Like really pregnant. At this point, about 95% of the people I encountered felt the need to comment on just how pregnant I looked. As if I hadn’t seen a mirror in 8 months, thanks for the heads up! Like I said, really pregnant. Anyhow, in the past week or so, I had started developing signs of pre-eclampsia (rapid weight gain, swelling everywhere (which caused pregnancy carpal tunnel – I didn’t even know that was a thing), constant headaches, protein in my urine—everything except high blood pressure), so the doctors were seeing me twice a week to keep a close eye on me. I had an OB appointment that morning and we talked about inducing, if necessary, if my blood pressure spiked. I was 36 weeks and 5 days pregnant, 1-2cm dilated and 50% effaced. The goal was to keep the baby in me as long as possible, but the doctor told us to keep our hospital bags in the car, keep an eye on my symptoms and be ready, because the baby was most likely coming “soon” one way or another. The doctor we saw that day was the one who was with us when we lost the twins and has been a little protective of us during our prenatal care, which we’ve greatly appreciated! She called me her “special unicorn” and we planned to go back to see her on Monday.

After my appointment, Nick and I both had a surge of energy and a couple of “OMG this might be happening soon” moments. We emailed every single customer a “baby prep” email to let them know the baby might be coming sooner than we thought and here’s who to contact while we’re in the hospital/adjusting to life with a newborn. By noon, I had lost my mucus plug. Eek! I googled “mucus plug photos” just to make sure that was it. Bad idea, don’t do that! We tried not to get too excited about it, since some women can go weeks after they lose their mucus plug, but nonetheless, it was one step closer! So, I cleaned the house, again, double checked the hospital bags and paced. By 7pm, I started having contractions, mild contractions, that I assumed were Braxton Hicks, but they were starting to get more consistent. Hmm…

I had been wanting to post something on social media of Tucker’s nautical nursery, so at 9pm I posted a picture. It was a good distraction. Many of you have asked where different things are from, so I thought I’d break it down for you. There are SO many overwhelming options when it comes to picking newborn items, click here to see all the details.

I really didn’t expect to go into full blown labor that night, but I thought I might as well shower and shave my legs, just in case. I didn’t want to get our families all excited yet if it wasn’t time, so I texted one of my girlfriends and told her I was starting to have contractions. I needed to tell someone! I told her I was contemplating curling my hair before I went to bed and she immediately texted, “CURL IT!” Good thing I listened to her because by midnight my contractions were 5 minutes apart and we called the birthing center! Our OB office consists of 3 doctors and 3 midwives. The majority of our prenatal care has been with the 3 doctors; we’d only briefly met 2 of the midwives. We knew any of the 6 could be on-call for delivery, with a doctor as backup if a midwife was on-call. Ironically, when we called in that night the one midwife we had never met was the one that was on-call. I wanted to tell her to read my entire chart and my blog before coming into the delivery room, but there wasn’t time for that. Things were progressing quickly and let’s just say we got to know each other pretty quick in the next few hours. By 4am, I was 5cm dilated and 90% effaced. It was time to call my momma. This is happening!! I called and woke up my family and said, “It’s time, start driving!”

I hadn’t made a definite decision about pain medications. I wanted to see how much I could handle. I wasn’t opposed to an epidural, but I at least wanted to try to manage the pain on my own before giving in. By 6am, I was 7cm dilated and 100% effaced and the midwife gave me my requested “last call” for an epidural and told me the whole process would take about an hour. At our birthing class, we had practiced all sorts of different labor positions and there was a big poster on the wall of the hospital room with different positions, but for whatever reason, holding on to the edge of the bed and doing squats the entire time is what helped me get through labor. I had probably done 1,000 squats at that point and could no longer talk or keep my eyes open. The temptation of some pain relief sounded too good to be true, so I caved. “Yes, please give me the epidural!” At 8cm dilated, the anesthesiologist started the epidural, but I was having non-stop contractions and holding still for a needle in my spine was the hardest part of the whole labor process. I remember learning in the birthing class the point in labor where some women feel like they can’t do it anymore and just want to go home. Yep, it’s true and I remember the exact moment that it hit me. It was right when I was curled up in a ball having nonstop contractions, a needle in my spine and several sets of hands on me trying to keep me still. The midwife, who I had only met a few hours earlier, said, “You can do this Abby, you’re so strong.” I shook my head “no” at her. Like quitting at that point was even an option! Ha! My eyes were closed, but I could hear all the commotion around me as the nurses helped Nick sit down so he didn’t pass out. In that moment, the midwife suddenly became the most comforting and encouraging voice in the room and I couldn’t imagine going through labor without her.

The epidural didn’t work. Are you kidding me?!! The anesthesiologist said he could try again or he could try a spinal block that would basically give my body up to a 2-hour break from labor. Again, a relief from pain at that moment seemed too good to be true, so I quickly agreed to the spinal block. Immediately, it made my whole body go numb and I basically took a drug-induced nap. While I was out, there was a shift change and when I woke up there were all new nurses and doctors there. Talk about messing with someone on drugs! I woke up wanting to hug the anesthesiologist, who an hour earlier, I wished I could punch him in the face. Ha ha, kidding, kind of! In retrospect, I wish I hadn’t taken any of the pain meds and just pushed through the last bit of labor on my own. I waited way too late in the game to take anything and all it did was delay labor; the baby could have been out sooner if I had powered through it, but oh well.

Anyway, the drugs were wearing off and it was time to push! I reminded Nick to please take a picture the moment they put the baby on my chest. The nurses asked if I wanted a mirror to watch the baby come out. I hadn’t thought about that, but why not? At first glance, it was the most horrifying site I had ever seen, and I blurted, “OMG that looks so awful!” Everyone laughed, but then the doctor said, “Abby, that’s your son’s head right there, see it?” And that’s all the pushing motivation I needed… 12 minutes later and my baby boy entered the world! As soon as the baby was completely out of me, he wiggled, and I took a huge sigh of relief knowing, HE’S ALIVE! And then it happened, the moment I had been waiting for, HE CRIED!

OH THANK YOU JESUS.

Immediately, the baby was thrown onto my chest and my heart exploded with a love that I didn’t even know was possible. All of the pain was gone and there was so much love, joy and peace in my heart. I couldn’t even speak, I was just in awe of the miracle of life and so incredible thankful for my baby.

“For this child I have prayed.” 1 Samuel 1:27

“Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!” Luke 1:45

GOD IS GOOD. Our prayers have been answered and we are sooo in love with our little Tucker Nash!

Here are the links to everything in Tucker’s Nautical Nusery! We had so much fun picking out all of the pieces for our little boy’s room! We hope he grows to love it as much as we do!

White Convertible Crib with Storage Underneath – Love the extra storage under the crib and it turns into a toddler bed!

Reversible Crib Mattress with Infant and Toddler Side

Nautical Crib Bedding – We have a couple different sets of the sheets from this bedding collection.

Co Sleeper – Our bedrooms are small, so putting a bassinet in our room seemed impossible for maneuvering around the bed. This is what we chose to put the baby in at night. It goes right on our bed but has a stiff edge around it so you don’t roll onto the baby. I love it because the baby is right next to me in bed and easy to grab for those 2am feedings.

White Sheepskin Rug – Sooo soft!

42″ Wooden Name Sign above Crib (Font is Beth)

Sailboat Baby Rocker – So cute and it plays music too!

Changing Table – You can remove the changing table top and it can be a regular dresser too.

Changing Pad – Easy to clean and you don’t need changing pad covers!

Night Stand

The Abbyson Glider – We had to have it because it was indeed for “Abby’s son” 🙂

Frames above Glider – I searched high and low for wall art and couldn’t find what I was looking for, so I designed these and had them printed locally. The link is to the frames, but if you ever need custom artwork, feel free to reach out to me! I’m happy to put my graphic design skills to work for you!

Custom Puzzle Footstool

Car Seat

Jogging Stroller – I’d like to say we chose this stroller because I jog. Ha! Actually, we chose this stroller because of the heavy duty wheels. So far it’s working out great for us on our gravel driveway and rough roads.

Pack and Play – This is hands down the easiest pack and play on the market. You can collapse it with one hand!

High Chair – Simple, classic faux leather high chair that can easily be wiped down and folded away for storage.

Walker

Baby Swing – Not only does this swing take up minimal floor space, you can control it from your phone! It’s ahhhmazing!

Pregnancy after a loss isn’t easy.

A year ago my world completely flipped upside down when my husband Nick and I experienced the loss of our twin baby girls. It has taken a lot of strength to get back up to where I am today – standing on my own two feet, healthy, happy, hopeful and almost full term with our rainbow baby! The reason people call it a “rainbow baby” is because rainbows typically follow a storm and give hope of what’s to come. Although there have been lots of ups and downs along the way, our storm has past and we are so close to meeting our baby! Everything about this pregnancy has been different, but mostly it’s been about keeping faith, facing fears and reaching milestones, one small step at a time.

Getting Pregnant

On my first pregnancy, I got pregnant on the first month of trying and with the help of a couple handstands, I was pregnant with twins. (Part 2 will make a whole lot more sense after reading Our Story if you haven’t already).  After losing the twins at 19 weeks, the only thing I wanted was to get pregnant again. What I’ve learned, the hard way, in the past couple years is that things don’t always go according to MY plan. The months of grieving the loss of the twins, then turned into months of serious fear and devastation that I might lose my uterus too. Cancer and hysterectomy are definitely two of the ugliest words I’ve ever heard. But, by the grace of God, I was able to keep my uterus, the hysterectomy conversation ended, and I was cleared to start trying to get pregnant again. Praise the Lord! We were so relieved, but absolutely exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster we had finally gotten off of. It was a horrible upside-down ride I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

I continued using the Clue app after I lost the twins to track my periods and ovulations. On the first month of trying, we had hoped I’d get pregnant as quickly as I did the first time. We did lots of handstands and prayed for a baby, or two! The chances of us having multiples again had quadrupled since I had them naturally the first time. Awesome! That was exactly what I thought I wanted!

Guess what? It didn’t happen right away. It didn’t happen the second month. Or the third either. The handstands had stopped, that was ridiculous anyway, right? I was frustrated and starting to get discouraged. A friend suggested we buy an over-the-counter ovulation test. What’s another $20 bucks? The ovulation test synced up perfectly with my Clue app, so we knew that wasn’t the problem. I cried every time I took a pregnancy test and one line popped up (and I knew I took it correctly this time around). You’re supposed to wait 5-7 minutes for two lines to pop up on the test. I would sit in the bathroom for over 10 minutes staring at the stick, praying another line would appear… but it didn’t. We had wasted so much money on pregnancy tests.

On month four of trying, I waited until I was a week late to take a pregnancy test. There was only one sad test left in the box. I didn’t even want to take the test, but I took it anyway. I couldn’t sit there and watch it; I just left it on the bathroom counter and walked away. Nick waited the full 7 minutes before checking it and finally, we got two pink lines! My heart was racing. I needed more confirmation than just one positive pregnancy test. Nick suggested we go out to breakfast and buy more pregnancy tests on the way. This time, I had zero fears of walking into a drug store to buy pregnancy tests. I wasn’t embarrassed, I wasn’t ashamed, I wanted to be pregnant. We went to a restaurant we’d never been to and sat outside next to the river by a waterfall. It was a beautiful sunny summer day and such a peaceful setting! Nick was anxious for me to go the bathroom, but I was flat out nervous. We ordered our food and then I went to the bathroom and ripped open the pregnancy test. Immediately, 2 lines appeared! Just like that, I was pregnant and suddenly terrified of a miscarriage. There were so many emotions that day. We decided to keep the news to ourselves for a couple weeks. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting our families on another rollercoaster ride with us this early in the pregnancy. I called to schedule my first pre-natal visit at 8 weeks and we tried our best to distract ourselves until then.  We continued going out on the lake, hiking, hanging out with friends, we even went to a brewer’s festival where I indulged on food instead of booze! I posted pictures with virgin drinks in my hand and, this month, no one questioned if I was pregnant yet.

1^st Trimester

At the 8-week ultrasound visit, we found out I was pregnant with one baby. We asked the doctor to triple check to make sure there was only one baby, but it was very clear on the screen—one sac and one baby. It was a little bittersweet not having two babies this time, but I tried to convince myself that having one baby would be an easier, lower risk pregnancy and that was a good thing. Lower risk, yes, but the doctor still considered this singleton pregnancy a high-risk pregnancy. Since we never got clear answers on what went wrong with the twin pregnancy, I was now labeled as “high risk for pre-term labor.” Not super comforting, but what do we need to do? The doctor suggested we try a weekly progesterone shot called “Makena” to help prevent pre-term labor starting on week 16 and ending on week 36. It couldn’t hurt the baby and the side effects for me were minimal; so we decided we’d give it a shot, literally. Before we left that day, the doctor tried to prepare us for the upcoming milestones we would likely have a hard time getting through:  the 19-week mark and the one-year anniversary of losing the twins. We did not give up our faith or our hope that God would bless us with a child someday, but it certainly hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows along the way.

Every weird feeling in my stomach, every time I went to the bathroom, every time I did anything, I had this fear in the back of my head that something might go wrong. And that’s the devil for you. Constantly putting fear in your mind. Several times I literally shouted, out loud, “DEVIL, I REBUKE YOU. YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE.” Besides precisely following the pregnancy rules of what to do/what not to do, the only other thing I knew I could do, was pray. Oh, have I prayed. Every single day, Nick and I have prayed together for this baby and for this pregnancy. I’m such a control freak, but unfortunately, I can’t control everything. I’ve tried to give the things I can’t control over to God and control the things I can control, like cleaning my house. I might be a little OCD and compulsively clean my house, but that’s OK, I can control that! I can also control the food I put in my mouth (most of the time), how much I exercise, and getting up and going to work every day. Recently, a high school student asked me, “Are you still able to drive? I didn’t think pregnant women were allowed to drive.” I’m pregnant, not disabled! I’ve laughed so many times about this conversation. No matter what though, I can’t control the growth and development of this baby, so we’re trusting God on that part.

I feel like such a hypocrite. On one hand, I believe when a woman finds out she’s pregnant, she can announce it to the world if she wants! It’s exciting and anyone who knows she’s pregnant will hopefully just be there to support her if she has a healthy baby or a miscarriage. Why do women keep pregnancies and miscarriages a secret? Women (and men) need support, especially if they have a miscarriage. I understand that not everyone wants to talk about it or write about it on a public blog, but I still believe that people need people. On the other hand, I asked Nick if we could wait until I was 20 weeks pregnant to share our news with friends. Hypocrite. WHHHYY? All I can tell you is that I think I was trying to protect myself. I didn’t want to get too excited or get my hopes too high about this baby, because something could go wrong. Again, that’s the devil putting fear in my head. I thought if I didn’t talk about it or think too much about it, then time would pass, and I’d be at 20 weeks in no time. WRONG. Those were the slowest weeks of my life.

2^nd Trimester

I started showing early. As much as I didn’t really want to tell people that I was pregnant, it was pretty obvious once I got into the second trimester. That’s when the two most common questions started happening. The first question is always, “When are you due?” and that’s the easy one. I’m due on St. Patrick’s Day! It’s our lucky baby! But then the second question almost always follows from people who don’t know me that well, “Is this your first?” Silence. The first several times it happened, my throat completely choked up and I couldn’t even swallow. This isn’t my first pregnancy, but I don’t have children at home. How do I answer that question? Saying “yes” felt like I was forgetting about the twins. Saying “no” was confusing, but did this stranger really want to know about my personal history? I don’t know, probably not. That question has been really tough for me and unfortunately, I’ve been asked that question way too many times throughout the pregnancy. For the record, I’ve answered it both ways. I feel guilty when I say “yes” but sometimes it’s easier. Shame on me for taking the easy route! But when I say “no, my husband and I lost twin baby girls at 19 weeks” the look of horror crosses the other person’s face. I’d like to say it’s gotten easier with time, and maybe it has a little bit, but it still makes me cringe every time.

The best part about a high-risk pregnancy is lots of ultrasounds! Every other week we’re at the OB office for checkups and ultrasounds. We’re there so often, I’m surprised they even ask me my date of birth when I check-in any more. Don’t they have that memorized by now? We love our OB office family! They all know our story and have shown so much compassion to us along the way. Our 16-week appointment was one for the books. At 16 weeks, I started taking the Makena shot. The nurse taught Nick how to give me the shots, so we could start doing them at home. Mondays are shot days in our house now, which means I have to be on my best behavior on Mondays because Nick gets to stick me with a needle in my butt. I must say, Nurse Nick takes his job very seriously and he’s doing a great job! And so am I, thank you very much.

Believe it or not, Miss Planner over here did NOT want to find out the gender of this baby. But taking my eyes off the screen during an ultrasound for even a second is never going to happen. Those brief moments of seeing the baby move on the screen is like Heaven on earth – everything is right in the world in those few minutes. When the doctor started the ultrasound at our 16-week appointment, she said, “I hope you want to know the gender.” The baby had its legs spread wide open and it was very clear that we were having a BOY! I wish I had a picture of the look on Nick’s face when he first found out it was a boy. It was pure joy. As much as I didn’t want to find out the gender, I’m so glad we did! The 19-week milestone was creeping up on us and we needed the extra fuel to get us through the next few weeks.

When we were engaged, we went to San Francisco for my birthday. I’ll never forget a special moment we shared at The Buena Vista in the Fisherman’s Wharf. We had a long day of exploring the city and we were ending our day by sipping on their famous Irish coffee. If you’ve never had one there, pace yourself, oh and brace yourself for that first sip! If you’ve been there, you know what I’m talking about. Anyway, after one too many Irish coffees, the conversation of “no pets, no babies for 3 years” happened there and also a conversation of what we’d name our first-born children. I said if we ever have a little girl, I’d like to name her Marcie Jane, after my grandmother Marceil. I didn’t have a strong opinion of a boy’s name, but Nick did. He said, “Tucker for a boy” and I loved it! So that was that. The next day we re-confirmed our conversation from the night before – there will be no pets and no babies for three years and the first-born children will be Marcie and Tucker. Deal.

When we left the OB office after finding out we were having a boy, I asked Nick if he still liked the name Tucker. He very confidently said, “Yes, do you?” Oh yes! Tucker it is! And just like that I started thinking about the color blue. Blue? I’m so not a blue person, but suddenly the color blue started to stand out to me. About 90% of Nick’s wardrobe is blue, and I maybe have 2 or 3 blue shirts. Maybe. All of the sudden I started buying myself blue clothes and using the blue heart emoji instead of the red one. What’s happening to me? Yeah, I’m definitely pregnant with a baby boy! Also, I’m a firm believer in all of the pregnancy gender predictor myths. With the twins, I craved sweets, my face was broken out all the time, I was carrying high, they had fast heart beats, etc. It’s quite the opposite with this baby!

Getting to and through 19 weeks was tough. The morning I turned 19 weeks, I woke up in a puddle of tears before I had even opened my eyes. It brought back so many memories of the twins. Although I knew the chances of having the exact same thing happen twice was next to impossible, I was a nervous wreck. Nick and I talked a lot about the twins that day. We rehashed the events that took place, I stared at their little footprints I have framed on our dresser, I looked at all of the ultrasound pictures and I cried, a lot. As much as I love reading my pregnancy apps each week, I couldn’t look at them because the words “19 weeks” haunted me. I just wanted to get to 20 weeks. And when we got there, I felt like I had just climbed Mt. Everest! We made it!

However, I hadn’t even begun to think about the nursery, baby showers or baby registries, but people were starting to ask. It just felt like déjà vu and I wasn’t ready for it. Once we got through the 19-week milestone, I felt like I needed to get through the one-year anniversary of losing the twins before I could really focus on doing any kind of baby planning. We needed a distraction. Something, anything, to help take our minds off of the pregnancy and keep us busy. When we bought our house 3 years ago, we remodeled almost the entire house – all new flooring, new kitchen, new master bath, painted everything from floor to ceiling, including all the trim, etc. The one room we never touched was the main bathroom/laundry room on the first floor. I’ve never liked the layout or the 20-year-old style of it. You had to walk through the laundry room to get to the full bath which was covered in cream and had little green accent tile everywhere. It was two rooms in one and the laundry side was bigger than the bathroom side. It felt so backwards to me. As my mother would say, “it’s fine.” Yes, it was fine and completely functional, but it definitely didn’t fit with the rest of the updates we had made throughout the house. So why not remodel it? Actually, I could give you a million reasons why you shouldn’t remodel a bathroom while pregnant, but guess what, we did it anyway. (Don’t worry, I was very careful of what I could and couldn’t do during this project.) We gutted both rooms down to the studs and plywood, knocked down the wall in between the two rooms to make it one big room and then started over. No big deal. Ha! I’m going to write a separate post on the bathroom remodel. If you’re a DIYer, check back to see the work we did. We’ve learned everything we know about DIY projects from Google, Pinterest and YouTube, plus a few phone calls to my dad. It was SO. MUCH. WORK. but oh so worth it!! And, bonus, it was a great distraction! So win, win!

The one-year anniversary of losing the twins, Thanksgiving weekend, happened to be at 24 weeks of this pregnancy, which is ironic because at 24 weeks the baby is viable. That’s a major milestone in itself. Nevertheless, just as we imagined, Thanksgiving weekend was still really hard. I felt like I was walking on eggshells the whole weekend. My head was flooded with memories of the twins and I was constantly on the verge of tears. We had a nice time with family on Thanksgiving Day and everyone was touching my belly and “oohing” and “awing” at baby kicks… just like last Thanksgiving. I’m a woman, I talk, a lot, in detail. Nick talks equally as much, but when it comes to talking about the twins, he definitely uses a lot less words. The one thing he’s said to me, many, many times in the past year is, “I miss them too.” Sometimes it’s when he knows I’m thinking about the twins, other times it catches me by surprise. I know he’s still hurting too. On Thanksgiving Day, by the time we sat down with our humongous plates of food, I felt so choked up with emotions I wasn’t even hungry. He squeezed my hand and whispered in my ear, “I miss them too.” Thank God this day happened to fall on a day where it was acceptable to have two different kinds of potatoes on your plate. We had our moment of sadness and then ate our feelings. I’m just going to be honest about something here – I’m pretty sure I’m going to keep the trend going and wear maternity pants to every Thanksgiving dinner from here on out. It’s okay, you can judge me.

Sometime during Thanksgiving weekend, I decided I wanted to publicly share our story. I talked with 3 people about the idea of starting a blog and then I just started typing. Nick was a little apprehensive of me sharing our story publicly and definitely skeptical of me calling the blog “The Handstand” but he didn’t stop me from doing it. I had no idea where the blog would take me, but I knew that reading other blogs of women who had been through similar situations of losing babies has helped me. So why not? The truth is that writing down our story and sharing it publicly was more therapeutic and healing for myself than I could have ever imagined. It felt like so much weight was lifted off my shoulders when I actually posted it. I’m thankful I took the time to write it and that my tech-savvy husband threw a website together for me in a day. I knew the story backwards and forwards, so writing it didn’t take long at all. I didn’t know if anyone would actually read it – it was long, sad and extremely personal, but I had hoped that someone would find some inspiration in it. And maybe that someone was me, because it was exactly what I needed to do to take a giant step forward in my healing process. I was blown away by the response of my first blog post… people I hadn’t talked to in years reached out to me, strangers who had been through a similar situation found my blog and messaged me, even family who knew what happened gained more understanding about what really happened. All of the comments, messages, emails, text messages and phone calls really helped play a huge part in my healing process. Thank you!

3^rd Trimester

After Thanksgiving, I knew it was only a matter of time until the bathroom would be finished, and I’d need to start thinking about the baby’s room. Choosing a crib was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I just couldn’t make up my mind. I thought I wanted something completely different than the cribs we had for the twins, so I kept searching. Here’s the thing though, when I thought about a crib, I thought about all of the excitement and joy we had putting together the twins’ cribs and then my next thought was always the horror of standing in the return line at Target with two carts and two cribs. I just did not want to go through it again, so I was trying to put it off all together. In the end, I came full circle and with some loving nudges from Nick to hit the purchase button, we ended up choosing something that was very similar to the twins’ cribs. The bedrooms in our house are not big, at all, and we’ve said many times that’s not why we bought this house. We fell in love with our house because of the great room (the open concept living room, dining room and kitchen) that looks out at Lake Champlain and the Adirondack Mountains. Since that tiny bedroom wasn’t going to be jam packed with cribs this time, we decided we had room for a rocking chair or glider. I had my eye on this navy-blue velvet glider that was probably way overpriced and sold online only. Ugh. I wasn’t sure if I even needed it, but once Nick saw the chair and read the brand, “Abbyson” it was game over. He insisted on putting the chair in the cart, because the chair was indeed for Abby’s son. So, we did it. We ordered nursery furniture and it was set to arrive the weekend of my birthday. How perfect!

Speaking of birthdays:

Next up, the first baby shower. Sigh. Of course, I wanted a baby shower, but the first one was hard. It was with my close friends and family on the same date, location and time as the shower we had planned for the twins a year prior. Talk about déjà vu. The room was filled with people who know me, love me, have prayed for me, have cried with me and have been my support system over the past year and really, my whole life. Blame it on the extra estrogen if you want, but I was emotional. Our journey hasn’t been easy, and these people knew it. A month later, we had our second baby shower with Nick’s family and friends. I don’t know if the practice from the first shower helped or that I was further along in the pregnancy, but something clicked, and I was excited! We’ve been showered with so much love and so many wonderful gifts and supplies for our sweet boy. We are so grateful. Trying to find a place to put all of the baby gear is a whole other story. All along, I’ve tried to keep things in their original packaging, you know, just in case, but Nick has zero hesitation of destroying the packaging. He’s been my steady rock that keeps telling me, “We are bringing this baby home. This is happening.” And he’s right, this is happening. Get rid of the boxes, we’re not returning any of this stuff. We are bringing this baby home! In Jesus Name!

Our hospital offers a child birthing/newborn care class. I know every pregnancy and every delivery is different, but I’ve already given birth to the twins, so I know what that is like. We figured it couldn’t hurt to soak up more info on newborn care and maybe we’ll learn something new about childbirth. We signed up for the weekend condensed class which was originally planned for 2 days, 4 hours each, but due to weather the condensed class got really condensed into one 6-hour class. There were 7 other couples in the room, all first-time moms with their partners. We briefly went around the room and introduced ourselves and said our names, when we were due and when the last time we changed a diaper was. It was a fun introduction that made everyone giggle, but that was the extent of the group interaction because the rest of the class was the presenters racing against the clock to go through all of the material. I would have liked to have spent more time talking with the other pregnant moms and getting to know them. We’re all due around the same time, so maybe we’ll see them again in the birthing center! Anyway, the majority of the class was about child birth. I kind of wanted to scream, cry, run or just tell someone, anyone, in that room that I’ve already been through it. I remember my water breaking, the labor pains, the contractions increasing with speed and intensity, a room full of medical strangers staring at my crotch, all of it. I felt like I had a big secret and it needed to come out, but there never seemed like an appropriate time to raise my hand and share our story. I think I would have felt guilty if we didn’t attend and even more guilty if we walked out. So we just sat there silently and pretended like it was our first time as well. We learned some new laboring exercises and got to meet one of the local pediatricians, so even though it was kind of painful to sit through the birthing portion of the class, I’m still glad we went.

Unfortunately, I haven’t found a church home since I’ve moved to Vermont. We’ve definitely been church shopping over the years but just haven’t found a good fit yet. So we have church at our home instead. It’s not ideal, I know, but it’s what’s working right now for us. Our Sunday mornings usually start with a big breakfast and streaming last week’s sermon online from my old church in Indiana, Nappanee Missionary Church. Watching it live always seems to have hiccups, so we’re happy with watching it a week behind. Anyway, right now the sermon series is called “You’ll Get Through This” and it’s some really good stuff. The key phrase is:

“You’ll get through this.
It won’t be painless.
It won’t be quick.
But God will use this mess for good.
In the meantime, don’t be foolish or naive.
But don’t despair either.
With God’s help you will get through this.”

If you have any interest, check out the sermon series here. We love Pastor Dave and are thoroughly enjoying this series right now.

The past couple weeks we’ve been doing some serious nesting and planning for our little boy! We’ve re-organized kitchen cupboards and bedroom closets, cleaned everything from floor to ceiling, made several goodwill bags, made freezer meals and stocked up the pantry. The baby’s room is completely, 100% done and I’m so in love with how it turned out! I’ve sat in my Abbyson chair so many times just admiring the room and dreaming about what it will be like when our little boy is here! I’ve even caught Nick standing in the doorway of the room just soaking it all in! All of the baby clothes, bedding and blankets have been washed in Dreft and are perfectly folded in his drawers. The car seat is installed in my car, we’re stocked up on diapers and wipes and I’m working on packing a hospital bag. We’re ready. So ready. We can’t wait to meet our little boy and bring him home! I’m days away from my last Makena shot and then a week away from being full term. Full term! The thought of making it to full term and this close to meeting our son makes me so incredibly happy, excited, nervous (OMG what do we do with him once we bring him home!), but mostly just thankful that we’ve made it this far! I don’t think the rainbow fully appears until the baby is in my arms crying. Call me crazy, but THAT is the moment I’m looking forward to the most. Our rainbow is in sight and I’ve never wanted to touch it so badly in my life! Get ready baby boy, mommy is going to smother you in kisses!

No Pets, No Babies for 3 Years.

That was the deal when we got married in 2014. My husband Nick and I said over and over again, “No pets, no babies for 3 years.” I knew we’d never have a cat because Nick “hated” cats, but maybe a dog someday when we have babies and start to settle down a bit. Well, let me tell ya, things changed when we had our first mouse in the house. I didn’t even realize I was afraid of mice until one ran across my living room floor. I screamed bloody murder and climbed on top of my kitchen island until Nick came in the room and let’s just say he took care of it. That was the one and only mouse we ever saw in the house, but the garage which is attached to our house, was a completely different story. We set up traps in the garage 3, 4, sometimes even 5 at a time and as soon as we’d set a trap, we’d catch a mouse. It was gross. On one side of our house is a lake and the other side is a hay field, so the mice were endless. The final straw was when I found a dead mouse in the back seat of my car! EW! That was it. It wasn’t even much of a conversation, we were getting a cat. So, we went to the local humane society and adopted the cutest little black kitten. The intention was for the cat to be an outside cat that was also allowed in our (heated) garage. But of course, we fell in love with our sweet little Johnny Cat. He quickly became the best little snuggle buddy and mouser. Mr. “I hate cats” now adores his little buddy and holds him like a baby. No joke. Johnny sure does his job too! Almost daily, he leaves presents for us at the door. You have to watch your step because you never know what you might step on as you exit the house. Guess what? We don’t have a mouse problem anymore and I got a kitty! Win, win!

And as for babies, yeah that didn’t last either. The summer before our second wedding anniversary we decided we wanted to start a family…

2016

Nick and I work for the same company; that’s how we met. Every year our company has a National Sales Conference in early January where all of the sales reps from all over the country get together. This year, I was asked to present a topic about marketing, something I’m passionate about. I have no problem speaking in front of a large crowd of people, but there’s something about speaking in front of your peers that’s intimidating. Not only was it my peers that were in the room, it was also all of corporate management, including the CEO of the company. I prepared for a month leading up to the marketing session. The CEO approached me afterwards, shook my hand and said, “That was the best presentation I’ve seen in years.” Nailed it! Leaving the conference, I felt on top of the world in my career. Sales conferences are always a blast, filled with big personalities, late nights and too many cocktails. We flew home on a Sunday night completely exhausted and couldn’t wait to put on our pajamas and get in our own bed. As soon as we walked in the door, my phone rang and it was my mom. I figured she wanted to hear about the conference and my presentation. I almost didn’t answer because I was so tired, but I thought I’d give her a quick recap before I called it a night. We talked for a minute and then she asked me to get Nick and put her on speaker phone. The next words out of her mouth were, “I have cancer.” And just like that, my world crashed. Uncontrollable tears lead to panic attacks and the rest of the conversation was a complete blur. The next morning, I was in the car by 4:00am headed to Indiana to be with my mom. Truth is, I needed her way more than she needed me at that moment. I sobbed the entire 13-hour drive home as I called a few of my close friends and struggled to say, “My mom has cancer.” It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, since her mom had breast cancer too. Not to mention, it seems like cancer is everywhere nowadays, but this was MY mom. Honestly, you can never prepare yourself for something like that. The weeks turned into months and cancer had become very much a part of our lives. She had a double mastectomy, followed by intensive chemo treatments, hair loss, then radiation. Seeing my mom so down, so weak and so sad was so incredible hard. I’d never seen her cry so much and I wished I could trade places with her so she wouldn’t have to go through it. It was painful to watch and it affected our whole family. I knew my mom was strong and she would get through it, but it was a process.

The Handstand

That summer, Nick and I decided we wanted to start a family of our own. We’re both big planners, so of course we wanted to try to have a baby at the perfect time. We work on the school schedule, so having a baby at the end of the school year would be ideal. We figured it would probably take a couple months to get pregnant so if we started trying in July, we could have a baby anywhere from April on. I stopped taking birth control a couple months prior and found a free app to download that tracked my periods. How in the world would I keep track of a period without my Clue app? The Clue app tracks your ovulations as well. Bonus! So, in July, on the first day of my ovulation, we had unprotected sex (sorry mom, but I’m married!). Afterwards, I asked Nick what I should do. “Should I lay here a few minutes? Should I lift my legs up? Am I being ridiculous?” Probably, but he jokingly said, “Maybe you should do a handstand?” OK! I figured it couldn’t hurt! I very carefully crawled off the side of our bed and put my hands on the floor. Nick grabbed my legs and held me up as long as he could. We were both dying laughing at the stupidity of the whole idea and my naked body upside down! (Again, sorry mom!) We laughed it off and went about our day.

 Pregnancy Tests

Two weeks later, I was late. I had Nick buy a 3-pack of pregnancy test. Even though I live in a state that I hardly know anyone and I have a wedding ring on my finger, that’s embarrassing stuff! The next morning, I glanced at the instructions and figured how hard can it be to take a pregnancy test, right? You pee on the stick, then let it sit. One line means not pregnant and two lines means pregnant. Got it. I ripped open a test and did my thing. One line popped up. Nope, not pregnant, so I threw it in the trash. No big deal, we figured it’d take few months anyway. A few days later and still no period, so I thought I’d try another pregnancy test. Same thing happened, one line popped up, I threw it in the trash. Weird. The Clue app had been so spot on with my periods the past few months I was surprised that it was off this month, but whatever.

Meanwhile, my grandmother passed away. We headed to Indiana to be with family for the funeral. The morning of the viewing, I still had not started my period and I was a week late. I took another pregnancy test. Again, one line. I threw it in the trash and went to get back in bed in my old bedroom at my parent’s house. I told Nick I was getting frustrated that I hadn’t started my period and yet all three of the pregnancy tests were negative. He got up to go to the bathroom and then came running back into the room holding the pregnancy test from the trash. It had TWO lines on it. I figured it probably got knocked around when I threw it in the trash and obviously it was defective because a minute ago it only had one line on it. At this point my mom heard the commotion and got all excited about it. Nick ran into CVS to buy more pregnancy tests, because there was no way I was going into my small hometown drugstore to buy pregnancy tests. Since he’s from Vermont, I figured there’s a slim chance he’d recognize anyone in there anyway. But sure enough, he recognized the woman at the register. He’s pretty smooth though, he checked out in the back at the pharmacy and asked for a brown bag so no one would know what he bought. I knew he was a smart man when I married him! Why we even cared is beyond me, but at the time, it mattered! Anyway, now I had a fresh set of pregnancy tests and two anxious people waiting for me to go to the bathroom again. But first, Nick read the instructions. Again, smart man! You pee on the stick, set it on a flat surface and then here’s the step I missed… “WAIT 5-7 minutes” for the results. Whoops! I definitely didn’t do that part on all three pregnancy tests. When I finally worked up the urge to go to the bathroom again and try test number four out, Nick made sure I did all of the steps correctly. And guess what? Apparently one line pops up right away, but then when you let the test do its job for a few minutes, then the second line can pop up. Who knew? Wait, this means, oh my gosh, I’M PREGNANT! I couldn’t even believe it. Finding out on the day of my grandmother’s viewing was perfect timing! Talk about the circle of life! My dad had just lost his mom and was trying to act like Mr. Tough Guy even though we knew he was on the verge of tears. But this news of me being pregnant changed everything. He cried and hugged us and suddenly the day didn’t seem so dark. My dad is one of six kids, so his family is huge and he also happens to be the loudest of the bunch. When our immediate family walked into the funeral home for the viewing most of the family was already there and the first thing he did was say very loud and proud, “Abby’s pregnant!” We all shot eyes at him and he said, “Was that supposed to be a secret?” Oh well! It was good news and it was exactly what my family needed.

Triplets? Twins? WHAT!

Waiting for that first OB appointment at eight weeks felt like the longest weeks of my life! We couldn’t wait to get in there and check the first of many things off list. The doctor came in the room, we talked for a few minutes and then she got right to the ultrasound. We had no idea what we were looking at on the black and white screen, but all of the sudden the doctor said, “You’re having two babies.” I’ll admit, my hearing isn’t great and I thought sure I heard her wrong, so I practically shouted at her, “WHAT?” Nick was smiling from ear to ear, asking appropriate questions about what he was seeing on the screen. That’s when I heard him say, “Is that a third sac?” I thought I was losing my mind and my hearing! The doctor said, “Yes, you almost had triplets. There are actually three sacs…. See one, two and three. But the third sac is empty.” Nick was beaming! Again, “WHAT!” All I could think about was that there was no way I could have three babies; I only had two hands and two boobs. I can’t do three! I’m not sure I could do two, but definitely not three! No way! The doctor then proceeded to show us two little dots inside two little circles and they both had heartbeats. I laid there in complete and utter shock. TWINS. What? How did this happen? Almost TRIPLETS? What in the world? Is this a dream? We weren’t on fertility drugs. We don’t have a family history of multiples. And most of all, we planned for one baby and now I was pregnant with two babies. I don’t remember the rest of the appointment, I just wanted to get out of that room and call my mother. And that’s exactly what I did as soon as we walked out the door.

My mom had just finished up her last treatment of radiation and had started working again. She was starting to get back into her normal routine and we had GOOD news to share! It was exactly what our family needed after the cancer hell we’d been through this year! Now we were getting double blessings! So anyway, I called my mom at work and blurted, “I’m pregnant with twins!” Oh, the happy tears! Wow, thank you Jesus! Next, I called my dad and he didn’t believe me. He thought sure I was joking. Our conversation went back and forth for several minutes until he finally understood that this was not a joke and I was really pregnant with TWO babies! The next call was to my sister. She screamed and tried to put words together but mostly just screamed. She was thrilled!

The rest of the day, I sat at my kitchen island staring at the sonogram pictures. The first picture had three sacs, which showed I was almost pregnant with triplets. Crazy! The next picture was zoomed in closer on the two sacs that had tiny little babies in them. Then there was a series of close up pictures of each baby. I still couldn’t believe I was pregnant with twins, but it just felt right. Nick and I are crazy. We never choose the easy path, so go figure we’re naturally pregnant with twins. The only thing we could come up with of HOW this happened was that damn handstand. That has to be it. Handstands after sex = twins. Mark my words.

Plan Early

The old rule of thumb is to wait until you’re in the second trimester to tell people that you’re pregnant, right? Screw that! We were so excited that we were pregnant with twins; there was no way we could keep it a secret. We told all of our close friends and family. Then I started telling strangers on the street, because I couldn’t contain it. Twins! It was so exciting! Strangers were hugging me and rubbing my belly. I couldn’t stop smiling; I was radiating good energy! We waited until 12 weeks to post the news on social media and tell our work customers, but besides that, we told everyone. 

The doctors had told us from the beginning that this was a high-risk pregnancy carrying multiples and that our goal was to make it to 36 weeks. We knew that pre-term labor was a possibility and we’d more than likely spend some time in the NICU. It didn’t matter, we had zero fears. The doctors also told us to plan early and prepare our home because there was a good chance I could be put on bed rest later in the pregnancy. Plan early? Are you kidding me? Music to my ears, we love to plan! We’re on it! I downloaded every baby/pregnancy app I could find, started reading twin mom blogs & ordered books on twins. I even started following random twin moms on Instagram. I had a lot to learn! Nick was all over the baby registry. He was researching car seats, double strollers, baby monitors, etc. Then we discovered Buy Buy Baby. That place is like heaven for a pregnant woman and you can use your 20% off coupons from Bed Bath and Beyond, even better! They have baby everything and the staff is actually knowledgeable about the products, which never happens anymore. We were blown away when we first stepped foot in the door. The guy that helped us setup the baby registry, also helped us pick out an awesome lightweight double stroller. By the end of our 2+ hours in the store, I tried to get him to go work in sales somewhere else so he could start making commission. He was that good! Maybe he could fill in for me for me when I’m on maternity leave?

Oh, and the nursery! Pinterest became my best friend. I started pinning ideas for twin girls, twin boys and one of each. We were obsessed with finding out the genders. I had OB appointments every two weeks with ultrasounds. Perks of a high-risk pregnancy! At every visit, we begged the doctor to look for the genders. But with twins, the babies are a little bit smaller than if it was just one baby, so finding out the genders was difficult. We couldn’t wait to get the guest room furniture out of that room and start putting the baby furniture together! We decided on plain white cribs that would work either way. Nick had the cribs and changing table put together in no time. We snagged a 4moms play yard for half off. Score! I found a used 4moms mamaRoo that was still in the box and only used once. Another score! Car seats and the double stroller were ordered and on the way. The registry was done and baby shower invites were at the local printer! We were almost ready!

Besides the fact that I was extremely tired, the pregnancy was very simple. I had a permanent smile on my face and a rapidly growing belly! At our 18-week appointment, the doctor confirmed there was definitely a baby girl in my belly, but we couldn’t get a good look at the other baby. Oh my goodness, hello baby girl and hello pink everything! I was thrilled! But now we’d have to wait another two weeks to find out the second gender and do a big gender reveal.

Thanksgiving 2016

We had two Thanksgivings to attend and that meant lots of eating. Praise the Lord for maternity pants! I don’t know why I tried to put off wearing maternity pants in the beginning. I was a little afraid of pants coming up to my boobs, but once I finally bought a pair there was no question, I was hooked and determined this was God’s gift to pregnant women. I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to go back to my normal pants. This was the first grandbaby on Nick’s side, so his family was especially thrilled about the twins! The babies were kicking like crazy and everyone had their hands on my belly all day. His 86-year-old grandmother was so excited about her first great-grandchildren on the way! The day couldn’t have been better and we had so much to be thankful for this year.

19 weeks, Black Friday

We love breakfast! We especially love breakfast on the weekends when we’re both home and can make a big breakfast together. That’s exactly how our morning started the day after Thanksgiving. We made a big breakfast with pancakes and scrambled eggs. We were having friends over the next day, but for now the dishes and cleaning could wait. Our plans were to relax on the couch in our pajamas all day. Perfect! I was excited to read through all of my pregnancy apps since I had just turned 19 weeks. I was about to get snuggled up under a blanket, but surprise surprise, I had to go potty. So I went to the bathroom, peed and then stood up to pull my pants up when I felt a gush of water come out of me. I screamed for Nick and sat back down on the toilet. Water was pouring out of me like a faucet and I knew it wasn’t pee. He came frantically running into the room and I said, “I think my water just broke.” He immediately called our on-call doctor and she told us to meet her at the hospital ASAP. We rushed around, changed out of our pajamas as fast as we could and jumped in the car. Our hospital was 15 minutes away, but that drive felt painfully long. I called my mom who was at Kohl’s with my sister Black Friday shopping. I briefly explained to her what had just happened and said we were on our way to the hospital. The rest of the car ride we rode in silence except for me occasionally saying, “Jesus no” and “slow down” to Nick. We were terrified and I wanted so badly to be wrong.

A sweet older woman greeted us at the door of the hospital and walked with us to the birthing center where we were meeting our doctor. From her perspective, my belly was big enough that she probably assumed I was full term and ready for labor. She tried to comfort me and said, “Don’t be scared. This will be a day you’ll never forget. Once that baby is in your hands, it will all be worth it.” But I knew 19 weeks was way too early for me to go into labor.

Once I got into a hospital room, the doctor asked me to take my pants off for an exam and an ultrasound. Immediately I remembered I hadn’t shaved my legs, shit! I apologized for my hairy legs and the doctor tried to make me feel better by saying, “Don’t worry, I didn’t shave my legs either.” Shew! Then the doctor confirmed three things:  1. That both babies were alive. 2. My water had broken in one sac. 3. She was calling for an ambulance to take me to the bigger hospital an hour away. I told Nick to drive our car to the hospital and I’d meet him there. That way we’d have a vehicle at the hospital. I told him I would be fine in the ambulance alone. That seemed logical, right?

The next thing I knew, I was getting strapped onto a stretcher and loaded into an ambulance. One of the men who loaded me gave a hand signal of three fingers to the EMT in the back with me. I asked, “What does three mean?” He replied, “You’re not supposed to ask that.” I said, “Well I just did, so please tell me.” And he very softly said, “Lights, Sirens, Speed” and then shut the door. And that’s when it hit me, this was bad. Very bad. I immediately regretted sending Nick in a separate car. What was I thinking? The EMT reminded me what the doctor had last said to me that I needed to remain calm so my body didn’t go into labor. Yeah, OK. So, I prayed. I prayed for our babies and I prayed for Nick to safely get to the hospital. Then I called him and reassured him that I was OK (kind of). Next, I called my mom, who had been blowing up my phone since I called her earlier. Her and my sister were back at my sister’s house with my dad and brother-in-law by now. My mom was hysterical on the phone and couldn’t stop crying enough to hear what I was saying so she handed the phone to my sister. She was much calmer and relayed the info back to the rest of my family. The EMT reminded me again to stay calm, so I asked my sister what deals she found Black Friday shopping. She listed off the things she bought and told me about the long lines. I paid about as much attention as I could, but being on an uncomfortable stretcher, facing backwards, watching the cars all stopped on both sides of the road, feeling like I was going to bounce off the stretcher every time we hit a bump and the horribly loud sirens on repeat the entire drive didn’t exactly help.

When I arrived at the hospital the EMT wheeled me up to the 7th floor birthing center. Along the way, every person in the hallway gave me the saddest look. I thanked the EMT workers for delivering me safely and for the sleigh ride. Under completely different circumstances a stretcher might be a way more enjoyable ride! Nick arrived within minutes of me, which meant only one thing:  he drove way too fast. But whatever, he was there and I needed him.

We met a high-risk maternal fetal medicine doctor right away for an ultrasound. The doctor re-confirmed that the babies were both alive and my water had broken in one sac. The first big noticeable change was that I had started bleeding. She proceeded to quietly check out both babies. She only spoke to us when we asked questions. What we had gathered at that point was that I was definitely going to lose one baby, but they were going to try to save the second baby. Praise the Lord! We had hope! Nick called our families to give them the update as the doctor continued with the ultrasound. This wasn’t a normal ultrasound like we had been used to, this was hours of an ultrasound. Towards the end of the ultrasound, I felt another gush of water. The doctor quickly moved the wand all over my belly. I hoped and prayed it was just leftover water from the first sac. She slowly lifted the device from my belly, dropped her head, took a deep breath and then looked at me and said, “I am so sorry. The water broke in the other sac. You are going to lose both babies.”

At this point we were basically going through the motions. It was too much to even process at the time. We met with an anesthesiologist who talked to me about an epidural. I had never given birth before but I couldn’t imagine why I’d need an epidural since the babies were so small. But he said his team would be on standby if I changed my mind.

So now we wait. Wait for my body to go into labor. Wait to deliver the twins knowing they wouldn’t be able to survive outside the womb. Just wait.

19 Weeks, 1 Day • November 26, 2016

It was my mother-in-law’s birthday and we were in the hospital preparing for labor. Ugh. I felt terrible that this was happening on her day.

During the night, the bleeding increased dramatically. Every time I got up to go to the bathroom it looked like a murder scene across the floor. It was very scary seeing that much blood come out of me. On top of the blood loss, my body developed an infection and then a high fever. My conditions were getting dangerous. The doctor said I needed a blood transfusion and then we needed to get the babies out as soon as possible. At this point, my levels were so low I knew I had to trust God and trust the doctors. My life was in their hands. The doctor told me I needed to remain calm so my body didn’t go into shock, because we needed my body to go into labor. Nick and I are not exactly calm people. We’re high energy, big personality, control freaks. Believe me when I say, we had the presence of God with us because the entire time we were in the hospital, we were calm.

My body reacted fine to the blood transfusion. Praise the Lord! Immediately afterwards I was given a disgusting sandy-like tablet to put in my mouth to help induce labor. Although I had already started dilating, the doctors wanted to speed it up. Contractions had started and I was still losing a lot of blood. The only way for my body to stop bleeding was for the babies to come out, so another sandy tablet was issued. As the contractions increased with frequency and intensity, I finally realized why I might have wanted that epidural, but it was too late at that point. The room was suddenly filled with nurses and doctors. I had a moment of panic as I realized I didn’t mentally prepare for labor at all. At our 18-week checkup, we had agreed on a planned c-section for the twins. I had read so much about twin births and we felt that would be the safest option for all three of us. In between contractions, I looked at my nurse and said, “I don’t know how to do this.” She smiled and said, “Your body knows what to do.” And she was right. After a few pushes, the first baby came out. A girl. Nick and I smiled at each other because we knew the gender of one baby but still didn’t know the gender of the other baby. The doctors briefly showed us the baby, but then put her aside and asked me to keep pushing. Eight minutes later the second baby came out. Another girl. Oh, my heart. Twin baby girls. I had just given birth to two baby girls. My heart exploded and shattered all at once.

Nick and I had a few moments alone with the girls. They were each wrapped in their own individual blankets that were way too big for their tiny little bodies. They were perfect little girls. Little. So little. Too little. But perfect. They each had 10 fingers and 10 toes. Proportioned bodies. They looked like babies, just way too small. They were about the size of my hand. The babies had passed away during delivery, so we never got to see them alive. We mostly sat in silence just staring at the two beautiful little baby girls that we made. Our precious twin baby girls. We decided not to take any pictures. We didn’t want to remember the girls like this. We wanted to remember them alive and kicking in my belly. We wanted to remember them for the five months of pure bliss they brought into our lives. Those were the best five months of my entire life.

We said our goodbyes and the nurse came back in to take the babies. I carefully handed each fragile baby to the nurse. One at a time she pulled the blankets over their heads, then slowly walked out of the room. That was the last time I saw the babies. It felt like my heart was ripped out of my chest. And that’s when the tears came. We cried. And cried. And cried.

The doctors were right, the bleeding slowed down after delivery. But since my levels were so low, they wanted me to spend at least one more night in the hospital.

After a couple hours of recovery, the horror started to really set in. As if losing the babies wasn’t enough, we were then faced with impossible questions like… “Would you like to name the babies? What would you like to do with their bodies? Would you like an autopsy done? Would you like to have a funeral for babies? Would you be interested in counseling?” and the dreaded “How arrrrree youuuu?” It was a nightmare. We just wanted to go home.

We did what we thought was best at that moment. We’re planners, so of course we had names picked out, but we decided not to name the babies since they never took a breath of air. As for what we wanted to do with their bodies, excuse me, “What!” Since the babies were legally ours, we had options to take them home, have them cremated or buried. We didn’t want to do anything with their bodies. We couldn’t even fathom making that decision. Especially not right now. We chose nothing. And answering the “how are you” question was impossible.

We were supposed to have friends over that night for a Friendsgiving dinner. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. But we had 6 couples planning on coming to our house. Nick made 6 dreaded phone calls and let them know what happened. It was painful to listen to the words come out of his mouth, “Abby’s water broke and we’re in the hospital…. No, it’s not like that, we lost both babies during delivery…” Silence. Tears. “Thanks Bud” and click.

Nick’s Dad offered to go to our house and take down the cribs for us. The cribs! I hadn’t even thought about the nursery and all of the baby gear we had already accumulated. On one hand, I was mortified that my father-in-law was going to my house without us there. I knew we left the house a disaster… dishes in the sink, breakfast pans still on the stove, our bed was unmade, clothes on the floor, etc. But on the other hand, taking apart the cribs sounded horrible. Yes, please go!

Before we left the hospital, we were given the babies’ footprints and weight cards. Their tiny little feet printed on the tiniest little piece of paper was all we had left. Walking out of the hospital, empty handed was one of the most painful moments. You hear women say all the time that holding your baby for the first time makes you forget all about the labor pains. That’s not true. Yes, my babies were small, but I still had horrible contractions. Holding my precious, motionless babies in my hands and not hearing them cry hurt so much worse. It’s something I wish no woman would ever have to do. Ever. And walking out the door knowing my babies were still somewhere in that big hospital killed me. I sobbed the entire walk to the car and the entire drive home. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. My belly was deflated and I felt so empty.

Now What?

When we got home, the house was spotless. Not only did my father-in-law take the cribs apart, he found the old furniture that we had yet to give away in the basement and set the room back up as a guest room. He did the dishes and made our bed. I can’t tell you how much that meant to us. We were absolutely mentally and physically exhausted. Nick and I climbed into bed and didn’t move for 24 hours.

The next few days were strange. We didn’t really know what to do with ourselves. We replayed the events of the past weekend over and over again trying to make sense of it all. It didn’t even seem real. We prayed together, cried together and did our best to comfort each other. We tried to talk with family and close friends about what happened, but it was so hard to put it into words. We took time off from work to process and grieve. Thankfully we work with wonderful people that were understanding and respectful. Sympathy cards filled our mailbox. Our house was starting to look like a funeral home; we were running out of places to put flowers. The delivery woman from the floral shop looked like she wanted to cry every time she rang our door bell. I worked up the courage to post something on social media about what happened because I couldn’t handle going through the story with everyone one at a time. The amount of love and support we received was simply overwhelming. People we hardly knew reached out to us and sent cards, letters, flowers, food, gifts, etc. Although our hearts were broken, we felt so much love.

Like clockwork, my breast milk came in 3 days later. That was bittersweet. I’ve wanted boobs my entire life, but my sister got all of the boob genes. For one week of my life, I had boobs and they were awesome! I think I flashed myself in the mirror more than I flashed Nick. It was something that made us smile and we needed that. Cold cabbage and Benadryl did the trick of stopping the milk, which was disappointing, but necessary.

We were able to re-route the delivery of the car seats, but the double stroller arrived a few days later. Nick called ahead to make sure we wouldn’t have any issues returning cribs without boxes, but standing in the return line at Target with two cribs, one in each cart, was one of the hardest parts of our week home. I didn’t want Nick to have to do it alone, but I’m not so sure me sobbing the entire time helped. The baby shower invitations, yep, those went directly in the trash. We got through each day, one step at a time.

Moving Forward

Nick and I agreed in the hospital that we were not going to focus on what went wrong, but focus more on what we needed to do to bring home a baby the next time. We were determined to start a family and this was not stopping us. We wanted to start trying again as soon as possible. The doctors had told us to wait at least three periods and they’d also like to do some testing to try to figure out what went wrong with the twin pregnancy before we start trying again.

The first set of results came back and the doctors called it a “fluke” that my body went into labor too soon. My water broke and then the placenta started pulling away from the uterine wall which caused all of the bleeding. A “fluke” wasn’t the most explanatory of words, but we accepted it. Then the testing started on my body… First, they did an ultrasound on my uterus to make sure it was going back to normal. And it was, except for the fact that there was something vascular leftover in my uterus. Not good. This meant one of four things:  1. It could be a blood clot, since I had a lot of bleeding during delivery. 2. It could be leftover placental tissue. 3. It could be cancer. 4. It could be something else. Regardless of what it was, it should not be in there and it needed to come out. I needed more blood work, an MRI and to say all of my prayers that it was simply a blood clot that may pass on its own through a period. If it didn’t pass on its own, the doctors may need to scrape it out and that was a huge risk that may cause more bleeding. And that’s when the harshest, most devastating words I’ve ever heard came out of my doctor’s mouth as she said, “You might need a hysterectomy.” NO. NO. NO. This cannot be happening. We left the doctor’s office in silence. Road home in silence. Nick walked in the house and got straight in bed. We had been walking a lot during my pregnancy and we made it a point to continue to go outside and walk every day after we left the hospital. Let’s get one thing straight though, I do not run. But when I got home that day, I put on my tennis shoes and I ran like hell. I ran all the way to the farm at the end of our road. I only stopped to wipe the tears that were streaming down my face and neck, then ran back home. I thought losing the twins was the worst thing that could happen to me, but losing my uterus as well seemed unbearable.

Meanwhile, we needed to make a decision about what we wanted to do with the twins’ bodies. They were still in the morgue at the hospital and we had received a couple phone calls about it. It was time to decide. Ugh. We agreed on cremation, but no funeral. Which meant two weeks later, we had to pick up the babies’ ashes from the hospital. Nick picked up the urns from the hospital, brought them home and set them on the kitchen island. They were the size of a double shot glass. I probably needed a drink at that point, but I knew alcohol was not the answer for me, so I stayed far away from alcohol during this grieving time. I sat at the island staring at the urns for what seemed like forever until I finally picked them up, one in each hand. I’m sure the actual weight of each urn was next to nothing, but they felt like the heaviest things I’ve ever picked up. I didn’t know what to do with them. Where should I set them? I moved them from the kitchen island, to the window sill, to my nightstand, to our dresser, back to the island, etc. I cried every time I glanced at them. The weight of having the urns and our babies’ ashes in our house was too much to carry. One week later, we agreed to spread their ashes. We chose a special place, Nick prayed over their ashes and then we said goodbye, again, to our baby girls.

Months of doctor’s appointments, tests, scans, blood work, ultrasounds, etc. went by. We were mentally exhausted and our hearts were so heavy. We were still grieving the loss of the twins, trying to get into a new normal routine and also dealing with the fear of possibility needing a hysterectomy. There were moments that I broke down and told Nick he could divorce me if I couldn’t bear his children. I felt so defeated. Although that conversation came up a couple times, Nick never let it go on for long. Each time he assured me that we were in this for the long haul and no matter what, we would have children someday. He even brought up the idea of adoption. During those months, we prayed hard. Harder than I’ve ever prayed before. We needed Jesus and we needed a miracle. This had spiraled so far out of our control. Our lives were completely upside down. We had to lean on each other and trust that even though we didn’t understand all of this, God was in control and He had a plan for our lives.

On my 4th irregular period, my body, on its own, passed something solid. OMG, OMG, OMG. I felt it pass, I saw it in the toilet and I made Nick look at it. “Should we fish it out or flush it?” We flushed it goodbye! Peace out! It didn’t matter what it was, it was out and we were ecstatic! I got in for an ultrasound the next day and sure enough, that was it! The spot was GONE! HALLELUJAH! PRAISE THE LORD!

 

Vacation

So, what’d we do next? Went on vacation to celebrate!

More pics on my Instagram about our vacation in the Grand Canyon! It was incredible!

What I’ve Learned…

Never judge anyone for how they grieve. Death is strange and how you deal with death is completely up to you. There is no right or wrong way to do it. I read a couple different books on grieving and quickly learned there is no manual. Staring at the babies’ footprints, rehashing what happened and connecting with other women who had been through similar situations helped me.

Talk about it. I’m a woman. I needed to talk about it. I still need to talk about it. That’s why I’m writing this blog in the first place. Talking about it has helped me move forward. I think about the twins every single day. When someone lets me vent a little bit about missing the twins or what we’ve been through, I feel better than I did before that conversation. My twin baby girls will always be in my heart.

If you know someone who is going through a hard time and you see them somewhere, say hello and acknowledge what’s going on their life. I get it. It’s weird, it’s uncomfortable and people didn’t know what to say to me, so they said nothing. But during a 10 minute or hour-long conversation, they’d just look at me with the saddest puppy eyes the entire time. That made it worse. Even close friends did this to us and it hurt. Just say you’re sorry, you’ve been thinking about me or praying for me. Even just a big hug. That’s it. Sometimes saying nothing hurt me worse than people who said the wrong things.

People will say the wrong things to you. Oh, will they ever. Again, I get it, you don’t know what to say, so it comes out all wrong. I’ve been there too, I know I have. Here are a few of the things we heard… “You’ll be pregnant again in no time!” “At least now you don’t have to deal with two babies at once.” “Yep, I knew it, twin pregnancies are too risky.” “You’re young, you have plenty of time to have babies.” “It’ll be easier having children one at a time.” “Now you can drink!” “Oh, did you just have a D&C?” The list goes on… I learned to take these comments with a grain of salt and try not to let them get to me, but I was fragile so that’s easier said than done.

“How arrrrreeee youuuu?” I hated this question for so long after we lost the twins. Faking an answer just isn’t me, but trying to put into words of HOW I was doing was incredibly difficult. Even a cashier asking, “Hey, how are you?” hurt. Strangers ask that all the time and don’t really care what your response will be; it’s just another way of greeting someone. But for someone who is going through a hard time, that question has some serious weight to it. I try to make a point not to casually ask that question anymore as a greeting. If I ask you how you’re doing, that means I truly care how you’re doing. And if it’s impossible to answer that question, I get it. I’ve been there.

 Technically, I had a miscarriage. I was 6 days shy of the twins being considered stillborn babies. In my mind, if your body goes into labor and you vaginally deliver your baby, hold your baby, cremate your baby, then that should not be considered a miscarriage. I am not discounting the heartache that would come from a 1^st trimester miscarriage, at all. What I went through was something I wish no one would ever have to go through. Miscarriage or stillborn loss — My heart hurts for the women before me and the women after me who have suffered this kind of loss.

Everyone is going through something. Just be kind. There is hurt and pain all over this world. Everyone is dealing with their own battles. I read so many stories of people dealing with grief and each story seemed worse than the next. But pain is pain and people need kindness from others. Love God and love people. I’m a Midwest girl and sometimes I have a hard time living out East because I’m so used to everyone being friendly back at home. Here, I smile and say hello to strangers every day; only half the people acknowledge me, the other half turn their face away. Just be kind. You never know how much a simple smile can brighten someone’s day, especially mine.

God is Good. You may think, how can she possibly say that? But it’s true. My mom survived stage 3 breast cancer and is now in remission! I’m alive! In the beginning, I didn’t think I would ever stop crying, but I did. I didn’t know how I’d get through each day, but I did. We have so much to be thankful for and so much hope for our future. I don’t know how people get through tough times without faith. I did NOT get where I am today on my own. I have felt the presence of God wrap his arms around me during my darkest hours. During the tough days that followed, He was there. I know we’ve had angels watching over us from the beginning and now our baby girls are watching over us from Heaven. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding.” Proverbs 3:5. Nothing about losing the twins has made sense to us, but that’s OK. We’re at peace with what happened and we have HOPE for our future because of Christ. God is Good.

Handstands. I am not athletic and there is no way I could do a handstand on my own. The past year has been quite a battle trying to get our lives turned right side up. But we did it! I finally feel like I’m standing on my own two feet again. I know more hard times will come, but with every trial that comes our way, we will gain strength. Strength to move forward. Strength to become better people. Strength to stand on our hands when our lives get flipped upside down.