Cerclage is in!

And what a strange experience it was too! We were in L&D with all the other moms going in for c-sections... They must have wondered what heck were we doing there? Especially when we didn't come out of the OR with a baby.

It was all pretty intense emotionally, but surprisingly not too bad physically. I'd never had an epidural (just Demerol when I delivered the girls) and so I was pretty good & freaked out about it. It certainly wasn't fun...but it also didn't suck quite as much as I thought it would. It was totally weird to feel things that you know should hurt, but that didn't. I actually think that the worst part of it all is right now with this nasty medicine they gave me that is making me insanely nauseous. Yuck. That and the bleeding. I know there should be bleeding as the cervix has blood flow, but it is still disconcerting to see.

The emotions came into play because I had to talk about by history... Many many times. In a setting that reminded me of the worst part of my pregnancy with the girls. Plus, while I'm glad to be doing something proactive to save these little ones, it's also a little bittersweet... Could things have gone differently last time if I'd only known then what I know now?? I know that's a terrible road to walk down, and I do try really hard not to think like that. But sometimes those thoughts sneak in.

We go back in two weeks, and I'm hopeful that we'll be able to find out the genders at that point! Until then, I'm using my little Doppler for reassurance that all is well inside. Also, I'm pretty sure I'm starting to feel the little 'flutters' of movement now. That's pretty damn awesome too.

Nightmare

I'd been doing so well... But I guess it was inevitable that I'd slip back into anxiety mode again. It all started with my decision on Friday that I deserved a weekend of rest & relaxation. So I maturely stuck my tongue out at my pile of correcting, left my papers to be photocopied on Monday, my plans completed through Wednesday only, and walked out the door. I felt pretty good about that decision at the time.

Then Friday night hits and I find myself at 2:30 am bolt upright in bed with cold sweats and shakes. Now, of all the things I could be terrified of, could be remembering... What is it that woke me in a panic? The dream of a baby shower. Yes, that's right, I dreamt that my colleagues, who just found out that I'm expecting, threw me a surprise shower before the safe arrival of the babies. I can laugh at this, but only a little, and certainly not that night. Or really, the rest of the weekend.

I dread the idea of having stuff again. Because I dread the idea of having to pack it up and it joining the other sad sad box of belongings that reside in my attic. Adorable pink & purple outfits to wear home from the hospital. Handmade blankets from my mom. Gifts from my students. Nighties from my best friend. Things that are wrapped up in dreams which will never come true. Things I can neither use nor get rid of. How can I face boxing up my dreams again? How can I survive that?

Shaken by my night, Saturday slipped by in a whirlwind of guilt over not being happier, more connected, more able to plan. Then bam, my old friend Sunday Worry about school shows up and sends me head over heals into panic attack mode. I became totally convinced that every single thing was going to go wrong, always, with every aspect of my life. My heart wouldn't stop racing, my hands shaking, my breathing was labored. All the way to school Monday morning. I thought I was going to explode. It was awful.

I've managed to calm down since then. Monday I taught. I wasn't the most prepared I've ever been, but it went alright. I spoke to the teacher who would be organizing anything, and she said she'd never thought to do anything until after the safe arrival. (Of course she did, she's amazing like that. She knew without me even having to vocalize it.) Today I talked to my therapist a little. He said that I was doing alright. Anxiety is to be expected. I should stop beating myself up for feeling it. (Easier said than done of course.) Tomorrow I have the day off. I plan to sleep in, have lunch with a friend, and try to relax a little more. It should be a good day.

Coming Out

We had a fantastic ultrasound on Tuesday. Truly, truly amazing. My first look at my babies AS babies... No longer blobs with flickers for hearts. They have limbs and bodies and FACES! Man, it is such an awesome experience to see that. I could stare for hours. I think that is the only thing I feel sorry for fertiles about, think of how many u/s viewings they miss out on!! Anyways, it was great to see that everyone is doing well and jumping and waving and talking away (or rather just moving their mouth, but I viewed it as chatting, haha).

Riding that high, I decided to tell everyone while I was feeling so good about things. People jumped, screamed, and I won't lie, there were a number of tears. These women that I teach with are amazing, kind-hearted people, who saw and experienced with me the heartache of losing my girls. It was wonderful to bring joy into their lives and to see their happiness beaming in their eyes. I felt loved and protected. My next hurdle is telling my parents (ugh)... Sorry, not my parents (they know) the parents of my students! Mostly they will be happy, but being parents, they consider their children first (as they should) and I will be leaving them come April (dare I hope to make it to May??) Sometimes parents can get a little snippy about it. However, we have 'visitation day' (otherwise known as torture your teacher by standing in the back of the room while she teaches and make her exceptional anxious) coming up next week. One real look at me, not in a winter jacket, and the gig is up! I'm definitely showing already... So, I'll bite the bullet and let them know this week or next.

***

More thoughts on my prior post of friendship. A fellow RESOLVE board member wrote me with her thoughts on what I wrote... And it made me realize that one of the reasons I'm okay with life how it is, is because I have her and the rest of the members and the community here in the blogsphere. I may never meet any of you IRL, but I can't discount what your friendship has meant to me this past year. At first I was hesitant to call it Friendship, but as my Good Friend pointed out... That's exactly what it is. In some ways I feel closer to you than I do to people who surround me in everyday living. So, thanks for that :) I owe you so much and I hope that in some small way I can fill that void for you too and repay that debt.

Friendship

I used to be the kind of girl who had insanely close friendships. The kind where I would know what the other person was doing every moment of the day, who could give answers for the other person, where you don't go a day without some sort of conversation.

Now, I'm realizing that just isn't me anymore... I realized this as I was trying to find an excuse for not going to a birthday dinner of someone who is in my closest circle of friends. I'm just too tired, I say. This week is insane with work. But really, I just don't want to go. I feel like every social interaction is a potential minefield to be navigated. If this were a smaller gathering, I'd be more inclined... But it's a large affair, complete with friends I haven't seen in years. It means driving 30 minutes into the city with a girlfriend whose relationship is strained and awkward. Staying up way past my bedtime. *Sigh* Making small talk. How I loathe small talk now.

I know that part of it is because our lives have all become more complicated, with more people grabbing parts of it. But, I got home from school and watched 3 hours of television. I could have called any number of people, but I just don't want to anymore. It used to be that an afternoon like that would make me feel lonely. I honestly don't even notice it anymore... Not until E pointed it out.

I pulled away from everyone, from life really, after our girls died. I didn't know how to live and move forward. I lived a robotic life, just going through the motions. Then when I did start trying to reach out to people, I found hurt more than help. Not on purpose, no never intentional, but always these sharp corners of misunderstanding and insensitivity. I was too raw and I learned not to trust that rawness around others.

Eventually, I found my footing and I tried to rebuild those bridges, those relationships... But for some reason or another, it just wasn't the same. Perhaps I was too much changed? Too quiet? Too sad? Too vulnerable? Perhaps they had moved on, past me while I was stuck? Filled the hole of my friendship with the friendship of others? Too much survivor guilt? Was it too hard to be around me? At some point, I felt I was the only one trying, so I stopped.

My therapist was asking about my support system these days. It's good, I told him. I have E, my sister (who just moved here), and my best friend (also an E). That's it, he asked. I know he was wondering about the plethora of others I've mentioned from time to time. Yes, that's all. And really, that's okay. I know that if I really needed someone, any of those three would drop everything and run to me. So, while I don't talk to them everyday, and I have absolutely no idea what they are doing right this moment (except E who is playing the guitar downstairs), it's enough for me, for right now.

Perhaps my idea of friendship was changed, perhaps it would have morphed anyway as I grew up but was speed along by tragedy and self-imposed isolation. This is my life as it currently is, and, while 5 years ago it would have made me crazy, I'm honestly okay with it now.

Houseguests and Head Colds

I'm here. We had a run of houseguests which left me little time to do anything else... and then the last one left behind a doozy of a head cold. I think I'm finally on the mend again! Being sick and not being able to take anything reminds me of how much I love NyQuil.

My appointment with my MFM went great. I really really like him. Although, then he told me that he didn't need to see me for another month and I panicked. Really? A month?? I haven't not gone to the hospital for a whole month since October!! I'll have withdrawal! At first, it was alright, but as I've reached the halfway point I find myself going a little crazy. E actually had to pull out the last u/s pics because I'd convinced myself that we weren't really pregnant after all, it was just a big joke. Then I got worried that my belly was shrinking. (I did manage to refrain from calling about that one... But only barely!!)

Speaking of the belly, it is definitely making itself known. I'm happy for the turn to cold weather because I can pull out the puffy vests without people getting too suspicious. I know it's probably time to get out the old maternity clothes, but I'm not sure I'm emotionally ready to handle that box (and the memories contained inside it). Hmmm, shopping anyone?

I'm scheduled for an u/s on the 3rd and if all goes well then, a cerclage on the 17th. While I'm really glad that I'll be getting one, I feel the nerves starting already. It sounds pretty intense and horrible! I'm definitely starting to freak out about it. I just keep reminding myself, if it can prevent loss from happening, it is worth it. Anything is worth that. If you can find your way back from that, you can handle a little physical pain. But, yikes, I'm not going to lie here, I'm scared!

On a last note, if you know Meg, and even if you don't... You should head over and wish her congratulations on her impending nuptials!! She's one awesome lady and I'm feeling so happy that she's found someone who realizes this :)

Sleeping.. A lot

I'm still here... Just finding the time to post has become more challenging. These days I'm either working, eating, or sleeping. I'm finding that 11 hours at night, well, it's just not enough! So I'm supplementing with naps too ;) I do remember this from last time around. Also making an appearance is nausea! While on one hand, it is a relief to feel it because that means everything is still okay, man... It sure is a pain.

Our last u/s went well, and we were able to see two strong steady heartbeats. We've been graduated from our RE (with strict instructions to come back in 9 months to show our the fruits of all our labors... but absolutely no sooner!) and this Tuesday we'll meet our MFM for the first time. I'm pretty nervous about the appt. I really really want to like the practice and this doc because I definitely need someone who has experience with high-risk and prior losses. I also don't want them to be upset with me for showing up with twins...

I'm working through all that with my therapist though, and I think I'm making progress. He also really helped me come up with something to say to the two responses I'm worrying about hearing when people find out I'm expecting twins again. (Really, just two sides to the same coin...) That people will think these twins can possibly replace my baby girls and that this will be different because my prior pregnancy (and babies) were wrong in someway. It's all from that same 'Everything happens for a reason' train of thought that I can't stand. We worked on it and I've decided that when people start down that path, I'll merely say "I will always love my first two girls." I like the simplicity and non-confrontationalness of this statement. Plus, it feels good to say, because it is true.

On a last note, I told my fellow first grade teachers because I will be relying on them heavily in the coming weeks and months. (Plus, we're a pretty tight group.) They were thrilled for me, and it was nice to feel that happiness! One is a very young teacher, and after I told them it was twins again she said 'Oh! What are the odds of that?' I just had to look at her and laugh... I replied 'About 20% chance each time I cycle!'

Balancing

I find myself these days tipping back and forth between two sides of the scale...

Guilt and Worry vs Happiness and Excitement.

On the one hand, I'm so unbelievably excited to finally be pregnant again. I have to pinch myself to make sure that I'm not dreaming. I want to shout it from the rooftops. I want to spin in circles and laugh out loud. I want to go skipping down the halls at school. It's happened!! My broken battered body finally pulled it together! Our chance at children is within reach.

Of course, then we go sliding over to the other side of the scale. The one chock full of worry. What if it's the same this time? What if I tell people only to find out that I'm losing my babies again. What if I lose them again?? What if my body freaks out in the 2nd trimester again? I know more this time around, and I feel more prepared, but it could still happen. Worry, worry, worry.

But worst of all is the Guilt. (That's how I think of it, with a captial G.) My head knows that I made good choices with the information I had last time. I was given permission from my OB to fly. I know that no one had any inkling of the disaster my trip would turn into. I know all this, but sometimes, my heart still cries out that it was my job as their mother to protect them and nuture them... I wasn't able to do that.

But here's the thing that is keeping me up nights... I had all the resolve in the world at the start of cycling again, to only transfer one embryo at a time. But I got worn down. Negatives and cancellations and 5 cycles in 8 months. I was so tired. I needed it to be over. So I transferred two. Now, if I lose these babies again in my 2nd trimester, there will be no avoiding the guilt. I made a choice. I chose my sanity over their health. What kind of mother does that make me?