26 weeks!!

How far? 26 weeks!! 90% shot at survival on the outside! 77 days left, at max.
Measuring? I won't know for sure until the 23rd. Hoping to be just over 2 lbs by now. 
Heartbeat? 140's and 150's.
Total weight gain/loss: Up 21 to 139.   Stretch: No change. 
Sleep: Still no changes. Laying down or standing up mitigates the pain in my ribs, but makes me crampier and leads to hip pain. I've noticed that I've gone from sleep as my refuge to sleep as one more thing to make it through.  Movements? Yep. Baby girl is my active one, I feel her the most. Baby boy is either less active or I just feel him less. He is the only one to kick my cervix, though, because he's a bit lower. I think he flips breech to head down much more often than she does.
Cravings? No. I just feel terrible every time I eat. I've been weaning off the reglan and that's meant a resurgence of nausea. I'm back to first tri mode: feel great for 5 minutes after eating then feel terrible like eating was the worst idea in the world for 2-3 hours, then get hungry again. 
Miss? Not having rib pain. Eating healthy and not retching afterward.  
Looking forward to? Being done with our basement reno and seeing the babies again on the 23rd. 
Feeling? The rib pain is no joke. I'm ok some days, awful others. I also threw up again this weekend. If I thought it was hard not to pee when puking during the first trimester, oh boy did I have no appreciation for what would happen during the second tri! 

Emotions, shadows, and remembrance

When my mom was here, I made the mistake of sharing with her that we were considering naming these babies in honor of their big sisters: Alexander Quinn and Zoe Hope. It's an idea I tossed around. While I'm not super serious about it, it's a possibility. It seems like a way to honor our missing children in a positive way for those who are here. I also said that I am a mom to three, soon to be five, and that's not going to change no matter what. I don't foresee myself mentioning the girls much, but I do intend to celebrate their birthdays each year. I don't want these guys to grow up in anyone's shadow, but I still want to honor my girls. 

A few weeks later my mom informed me that I shouldn't name the new babies after their big sisters. She said it would be too hard for them and they'd always feel subordinate to their missing siblings. She was pretty adamant about it. Mentioned a family friend who lost her first child to SIDS, and whose second child apparently always felt not good enough compared to his missing sister. I recall the second kid - He struggled with learning disabilities and his mom was both strict and a teacher, so perhaps his feelings had more to do with how that was handled than his sister, but who knows?

While I think we'll chose different names entirely of our own volition, the idea that I shouldn't mention my girls to their siblings to prevent them from being shadowed has really eaten at me. 

Last week I attended my pregnancy after loss support group. It's facilitated by a nurse who had a stillbirth many years ago, then two living children. I mentioned the interaction with my mom, and she shared her experience which was super comforting to me. Specifically, she said that she used to celebrate her lost daughter's birthday each year. As her living son got older, he eventually told her that celebrating his sister's birthday made him realize how important HE was - that even if he wasn't there, he'd still be celebrated and loved. For him, it reinforced the notion that family is important, even if not all family members are here with us. 

I love that. That's what I want to give all of my children. The facilitator also mentioned that she'd always set the context with her kids that it's ok to feel any emotion. It's ok to be sad that someone isn't there, and it's ok to not be sad, too. That really struck me, because the belief about emotions that I internalized from my mom was that sadness and grief are not ok, ever. You can be angry, you can be happy, but other than that, you should be strong, and strong women don't grieve. I don't know if that's the message she meant to give me, but it's what I got. It's not how I live my life, and it's not what I want for my kids, so the support group experience was so valuable to me. 

24 Weeks

It's January. It's January 2019, and that means we've made it to viability. I don't want to meet these kids for ~3 more months, but if anything goes wrong now, they have a good chance of survival. Wow.

I expected to be completely, utterly, 100% thrilled. Instead I was completely, utterly, 100% grateful for these babies, but knock-me-off-my-feet sad that their big sisters couldn't make it this far. Three fiber bands are the difference between survival and not. Three fiber bands are the reason these guys are still safe and Alexis, Zoe, and Quinn aren't. That hurts my heart. That something so simple could have saved my girls, if we'd known back then. I'm not calling the surgery or my recovery simple, but still . . . .

I appear to be reaching the 'uncomfortable' stage of pregnancy, although that's a bit of a joke given how the first tri went for me. Now it's stabbing pain near my gallbladder and ever increasing hip pain at night. I know I'm just at the beginning, so I'm trying not to kvetch too much now, but some kvetching is happening!

How far? 24 weeks!
Measuring? At 23.1, they were 1 lb 4 oz and 1 lb 5 oz. I'm hoping that means we've got 1.5 lb babies by now.
Size? Cantaloupe.
Heartbeat? 140's and 150's.
Total weight gain/loss: Up 20 to 138.
Stretch: No change.
Sleep: Eh. No real changes. Really, really tired all the time. The cerclage makes it painful when my bladder gets full, so up frequently to pee. My hips hurt when I sleep on my sides. It's right where the bursa are, so I'm assuming bursitis, or maybe just pain/pressure due to weight gain? No idea.
Movements? Tons! I love it, although it still freaks me out when baby boy kicks my cervix repeatedly. I tend to holler at him: "don't mess with the exit!"
Cravings? No. Still feel like crap after I eat.
Miss? Fewer burps. Fitting into my normal winter coat!
Looking forward to? Setting up the nursery once the basement reno is done. DH went out and bought the cribs on New Year's Day, so we're on our way.
Feeling? It varies a lot. I had some BAD nausea over the holidays. It seems to have died back again, but I doubt it's gone for good. Bad heartburn and increasing discomfort. Fun times!
Comparisons to last time? No longer relevant, as by last time my babies were gone. So, so grateful to be here.

I Still Hate 18 Weeks

Earlier this year, I signed up for a fertility yoga program. I did it mostly because I wanted to build a local network of women going through treatments and other fertility challenges. We've kept in touch since the program ended, and get together every month or two for dinner.

At our last dinner, which was last week, I found myself struggling with survivor's guilt. Two of us were now pregnant, both in the second tri, while the other three remained on the treatment roller coaster. They had fears, but also hopeful treatment plans in the next two months.  Everyone wanted to get together again in February, so there have been notes flying to plan the when and where.

Last night, just before bed, a note came in from the other pregnant gal. She'd be 18 weeks by now. Her anatomy scan was supposed to be soon. Her note told us that she was in the hospital, losing the baby. An 18 week loss. Fuck 18 weeks. I am so heartbroken for her. Her news brings back all of the feelings and the memories for me, and I can almost feel what she's going through - albeit I only know what I went through, so the presumption of similarity is purely selfish. I couldn't sleep at all thinking about her, her husband, and their child.

Seriously, universe, why? Why take a loved, wanted, hard-fought baby away at 18 weeks? I know you don't play fair, but why? This is utter bullshit.

Microblog Monday: Unexpected Loss

Slowly over the last few weeks, the amount of movement I've felt has increased. It's certainly not constant now, but when it occurs, there is no mistaking it. 

I love it. 

It reassures me that both babies are still alive. It makes me feel closer to them, and I can't wait for the point when DH can feel them, too. It's a good reminder that I'm still pregnant and they're developing and those are wonderful things.
 
At the same time, it hurts, emotionally. 

The one soothing memory, the thing that has kept me going through the last 18 months, has been the memory of Quinn moving in my arms while she was alive. That has always been a beautiful, happy memory for me. Now, feeling stronger movement with these two than I ever felt with her, I'm reminded more of the sadness, that she isn't here, than the happiness, that she was. I never expected to feel like a subsequent pregnancy would be detrimental to my memories, but in some ways, this one is. 

I have no idea how to navigate this. It's entirely unexpected.  I knew that loss related memories and heartbreak could and would sneak up on me, but I never expected new, positive associations to mar the few happy aspects I clung to. To summarize as eloquently as I'm able to: loss really screws you up, doesn't it!?

20 weeks - How Bananas!

How far? 20 weeks
Measuring? Baby girl is a few days ahead, baby boy is a few days behind. Overall, reassuringly normal right now!
Size? Bananas! My huge friend (aka, the stuffed gorilla), who first shared news of this pregnancy with my husband, clearly approves of week 20! For those who are curious, his picture is below. Yes, I am crazy. Blame my best friend and our gag gift war for this one!
Heartbeat? They were 144 and 141 last Thursday.
Total weight gain/loss: Up 16 to 134. I know Dr. Haney encouraged me to eat whatever/whenever I wanted, but two pounds a week is worrying me. The babies are estimated at just over a pound total, so I know it's not all them!
Maternity: Very much so. Just made one of my last purchases, of a bunch of loose dresses. Hopefully that will last me through.
Stretch marks: Nothing new yet.
Sleep: Eh. No real changes. Still with the constantly weird dreams. 
Movements? Feeling a bit more, but it's still very sporadic compared to Quinn. I felt my first kick or punch from the outside yesterday, which was fun.
Cravings? No. Still feeling really 'blech' when it comes to food.
Gender: One boy, one girl.
Miss? I still miss feeling good. I miss my old body and its ability to exercise hard. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my baby bump, but I wish I was one of those 'marathon at 32 weeks, crossfit until delivery' types. I'm more 'barely shuffle 2 miles on the treadmill.'
Looking forward to? Viability on New Year's Day.  4 weeks left!!!!!
Feeling? I told someone that nausea has uninvited his friend vomiting, but welcomed in his friends burps and heartburn. Boy have they shown up with a vengeance.
Comparisons to last time? Still pregnant! Still out of the hospital! Pretty amazing comparisons! Four more weeks to viability. Less than 30 days!

Now, the real star of the show, my huge amigo (please note he's wearing my husband's Banana Republic shirt). :)

Also, 20 week bump picture. 

Abandon Hope Ye Who Enter

I know it's early to be thinking of such things, but I was pondering all the hopes I've abandoned with respect to pregnancy and childbirth. Our first pregnancy, which ended in a 10 week MMC, I had hoped for a vaginal birth. I wanted it to be followed by a few days spent just with my husband and the baby, learning to be a nuclear family together before adding grandparents into the mix. I hadn't planned on finding out the sex, I hoped to wait for the delivery room announcement. I felt pretty good during that pregnancy, and hoped to enjoy every second of being pregnant. I was still working out daily and hoped to continue doing so.

  Sounded charming, no? Ha!

 After three miscarriages, I was still hoping for the vaginal birth, but when expecting twins, I knew a c-section was likely, so I abandoned that hope. I also knew we wouldn't get nuclear family time alone. Instead, I'd have grandparents whose help I'd badly need immediately after surgery. Thus, I abandoned the alone time hope, too. After the losses, I wanted to know the babies were healthy as soon as possible, so I abandoned the hope of not knowing the sex and found out early. I did still hope that I'd be bringing term babies home from the hospital with me, and there'd be no NICU time. Once the worst nausea passed, I enjoyed my pregnancy and hoped to keep doing so.

 This time around, I'm still nauseous, I still feel awful at 19 weeks. Nausea has said goodbye to its dear friend vomiting, but invited in its pals heartburn and endless gas. I've abandoned the hope that I'll get to enjoy any of this pregnancy. I know that between the c-section (and possible hemorrhage) and prematurity/NICU time, I may not even get to HOLD my babies before the grandparents do, never mind having alone time. Since I want the kids to know love and comfort as soon as possible, I've (sadly) come to terms with that. 

Hopes, abandoned.

 Now? Now the only thing I feel I can hope for is healthy, living babies. Heck, even that feels demanding. I know how lucky I am to even be pregnant again, to even have a shot at hoping for healthy babies. That makes it slightly easier to let go of all the hopes I've had to abandon. . . but only slightly. Why do I feel compelled not to grieve over all the hopes that won't be met simply because I've known worse grief? I realize that loss has taken so much away from me, and now I'm letting my knowledge and associated guilt force me to adapt in ways I don't want to adapt. I think it's time to work on that. It's ok to be angry, even if my babies survive. Logically, I know that. Emotionally, I still need to accept that it's true.