What's in a Name?

Scott and I had many a disagreement about names. We had agreed that we didn't want to find out the sexes, even though it would have made planning easier. Since we didn't know if we were having boys, girls, or one of each, we had to choose 4 names. This became more complicated as time went on. We knew we liked the names Heather and Michael....good traditional names (we wanted our kids to be able to find those souvenir license plates and key chains with their names on them, really). Scott had always like the name Thor, however, I did not. "It's a good strong name for strong boy, " he stated.

"What if we have a scrawny little kid?" I argued.

"Given our size (we are both "big-boned") we are not going to have a scrawny little kid."

"Case in point, my parents wanted to name my sister Katherine. They opted not to because the are both "big-boned" and they would have had a "big-boned" child with the nickname Tina or Teeny. (They ended up having a Tina anyway, my sister is quite tall and thin)"

He finally agreed with me and hopped on the internet to research names. Scott has been able to trace his family history back to the Crusades. He was hopeful that he could find family names that we could use for the twins. He came up with some rather interesting choices...Corneilius? There was no way I was naming my son Corneilius! Harold? Nope! Wrong again!

We knew that we wanted to celebrate the heritages of both our families, so we chose the following:
GIRLS: Heather Sophia and Mira Grace
BOYS: Michael Austin and Alexander Bernard
We chose one middle name from each side of the family. Sophia was my aunt's middle name and Grace was Scott's grandmother's name. Austin was Scott's grandfather's middle name and Bernard is my father's name. But what would happen if we had one of each? We decided that both of our families needed to be represented in each name, therefore we came up with Heather Sophia Grace and Michael Austin Bernard.

We should have named them each Mini-Scott and Mini-Lisa. The first time I got a glimpse of my too little ones was in their "toasters" in the NICU. My mother wheeled me in between the two incubators. I looked at Michael and gasped, "That looks like Scott!" I turned in the other direction and looked at Heather and gasped again, "That looks like me!"

No Cheeseburger? OK, I'll Have Some Tic-Tacs

3:00 pm: And that's what happened. I called Scott several times...still at Builder's Square. Oh, where was he? (this was before we had cell phones) The doctor wanted me to go right to the hospital, do not pass go, do not collect $200....just get to the hospital. Since I couldn't get a hold of him, I went home despite doctor's orders. I had to pack my bag anyway. We sped to the hospital and got a chance to meet the pediatrician. I was hooked up to the monitors and it was determined that I had been having contractions all day....I just didn't feel them (sorry, girls!). The nurse had a hard time putting the IV in...even though I apparently have a "beautiful vein" in my right inside elbow. So she put it in the back of my hand..... OUCH!

5:00 pm I met the anesthesiologist. He gave me the lowdown on what would happen. He asked when I had eaten last. "Lunchtime? Good. Do you have any questions?"

"Yeah. When do I get to have a cheeseburger? I'm starving."

"Well, probably not til after your surgery."

"OK, when exactly?"

"Well, you'll be in the hospital for a few...."

"WHEN?!!!!" Don't you people know that you are not supposed to keep food from a pregnant woman!? That's like trying to take a fish from a bear! What are you? Stupid?

6:30 pm: The family arrives to my delivery room. As they enter, I hear the sounds of another woman in labor....obviously a wicked contraction... hmmm.....funny.... I ask them if they happened to be hiding any cheeseburgers in their pockets or purses. Damn, no luck. Mom offered to get me ice chips. Only if they are cheeseburger flavored. (Funny, cheeseburgers were one of two cravings I had...the other was Stove Top Stuffing...right out of the can.)

9:30 pm: The anesthesiologist would do a spinal block. I had to sit on the edge of the operating table and hunch my back as the nurse held me. The anesthesiologist gave me a shot of Novocaine (funny how Novocaine is supposed to prevent pain and yet it's the most painful shot I have ever had) in my back to block the sensation of the much large needle going in (Thank God, I didn't have to see it). I remember him saying, "Let's get her back up on the table, before her legs go numb." I got news for ya, I can't feel them already! I remember being so cold and shivering through the entire procedure. They even brought me a blanket from the warmer, but it didn't help.

9:45 pm: They put the shield up over my chest and brought Scott in....despite his apparent opposition....in a wheelchair, wearing scrubs. My doctor came in dressed in her scrubs and ever fashionable yellow Crocs. She got up on her stool; she needed one as she is a mere 5 feet tall. How else would she see over my huge belly? And from what I could tell, she began prepping me for the C-section. The next thing I remember, a small dot of liquid dropped onto my face. The anesthesiologist said she had just cut through the membrane and broke my water. I didn't even know I had been opened yet! I heard a sound....grunting, mewling, then a cry. The doctor held up "Baby A"... a girl. She was whisked away by a team of baby experts.

9:46pm: On to "Baby B"...for boy! He was plucked from his warm cozy nest and all was strangely quiet. Doctors and nurses buzzed quietly, while Scott watched. I couldn't see a thing in my position. Finally a faint gurgle and a cry and I relaxed.....and burst into tears. All was good. The boy was having difficulty breathing, but they were working hard to clear his lungs. He would be fine, but need to be in an oxygen tent for a bit (24 hours). As I was being stitched up, Scott points out a tank to my right....."Isn't that cool?" I looked and nearly threw up (thank God I hadn't had that cheeseburger!).....there staring me in the face was my insides, my placenta, and such. The kids were placed in their own little tanks and wheeled out. I got to see them as they passed.....my two tiny tic-tacs wrapped so tightly in warm blankies, it was hard to tell if there were arms and legs!

Scott was able to take their baby books and get a footprint. He joined me in the recovery room. He was so excited that he plopped the books down on the end of the bed.....right on my legs. "Omigosh, I'm sorry...did that hurt?" Nope, can't feel a thing yet! I asked the recovery nurse if I could have my cheeseburger yet. Nope. No food in the recovery room. "OK, then can I sleep? I'm exhausted."

"Well, once we get you cleaned up, we'll take you to your room. But the nurses will be in every hour to check your vitals."

"So that means your not going to let me sleep, either."

"Not really, sorry"

What kind of hospital is this anyway? No cheeseburgers! No sleep! I'm telling Mom!

I didn't get any sleep that first night. Between the nurses poking me every hour and the spinal block wearing off.....did I mention how wonderful Depacote is?....and wondering about my babies. They were not tic-tacs any more.....they were real babies. What did they look like? Did they have my nose? Scott's eyes? What was it like for my little boy in that oxygen tent?

Did I mention that I was in extreme pain? My entire abdomen was extremely sore..what with an 8+ inch incision and all. The nurses all expected me to get up and walk down the hall to the NeoNatal Unit to see my kids. I couldn't do it....it hurt so bad! For the first couple of days I was wheeled in the wheelchair, then I had to push the wheelchair. My second evening in the hospital, I couldn't sleep. I had pumped a little breastmilk and thought I would go see the kids and drop it off. I managed to push the wheelchair all the way down the hall to see the kids and was met by the neonatal night nurse. I told her I had brought down some breastmilk and thought I could rock my babies and bond with them a little. She told me, "Honey, they don't even know who you are, so go back to bed and get some sleep." I never thought I would have post partum depression....until that moment. I was completely crushed (yes, I did file a complaint). I did however, take away something from that snide comment. "Go back to bed and get some sleep." Get it now while you can. You will not have many opportunities where someone will take care of you babies so you can get caught up on the precious little sleep new mommies need.

Little did I know......

You Wanna Do It When?!!!!!

I knew I was going to have a C-section. At my regular ultrasounds, it was determined that "Baby A" (aka Heather) was facing head up and was lower in the womb; the baby was breach. "Baby B" (aka Michael) was facing head down and higher in the womb. In other words, I had Yin and Yang. We tried everything to turn "A" around. There had been some fairly recent research on using music to turn a baby in utero to avoid a breach. We used a set of headphones and played some soothing music (maybe that's why she wanted to do ballet!) and slowly moved the headphones up my tummy. This was supposed to make the baby want to stay close to the music and follow the sound. It didn't work. I think there was just not enough room in there to do any kind of moving!

At my last ultrasound, the technician needed to get resting and active heartrates for the tic-tacs.... er...kiddos (actually,at this point, they felt like baby elephants!). She was able to get an active heartrate on "A" but not a resting one. "B" was just the opposite; a resting heartrate, but not an active one. Again, yin and yang. "B" almost ended up getting the cattle prod. In the end, all worked out and everyone was happy. However, it was still noted that "A" was breach, therefore requiring the C-section.

My actual due date was October 5, 1999, but given the history of twins, I knew that I would go early. Thank God. It was the hottest summer on record. I was teaching summer school as I needed the extra money. I was given permission to work by my doctor only if I was able to stay off my feet. I sat in the front of the classroom with my feet on another chair. Story hour was conducted on the floor and I would lay down and read to the kids. I pretty much froze the poor assistants out of the classroom as I kept the air conditioner set on Arctic (it didn't have an Antarctic setting so I was still a bit warm). I would show up to work in shorts and a top, while my assistants wore jeans and sweatshirts. I worked almost the entire six weeks this way.

The last week of summer school, for those of you who don't know, is crazy. Packing boxes, writing final reports, dealing with crazy kids who can't wait to get home and into the pool. That Monday (August 23), I woke up and hopped in the shower. While shampooing, I had the strangest feeling....down there. It felt like a foot was making its way out of....well, you know. I went to work and called the doctor. She made me go home and get to bed.

Now the fun begins, but I have to backtrack and share a funny story. Since we knew that twins arrive early, there was a running joke in our family. My parents' birthdays are August 29th (Mom's) and 30th (Dad's) What if I went into labor on the 29th before midnight and had one on Mom's birthday and one on Dad's birthday? Ha ha, wouldn't that be cool? Fast forward to August 29th. Scott had just arrived home from work at 11pm and I was in bed, but not asleep. I had that funny feeling, that tightness in my belly....my first contraction! I timed it and told Scott, promising to let him know if it happened again. It didn't. The next day was my regular doctor's appointment. As I said before, I told Scott that he didn't have to come to this one as it was a routine measurement and heartrate session. He decided to go to Builder's Square to get the last few items to finish the kids' room. After she performed her exam, she stated that we would have to schedule the C-section. While I had not dilated at all, I was completely effaced (meaning, the wall of the uterus was completely thinned out). We headed out to the receptionist's desk to schedule the operation....sometime that week. EEEK! Not that soon! I didn't think I had had enough time to prepare! OK, take a deep breath, let it out....hoooooo. OK, ready. THIS WEEK!!!! AAAAAH! As we were waiting for the receptionist to get off the phone, I happened to mention the funny family joke and that today was my father's birthday. She responds, "When's the last time you had something to eat? We can do this tonight!" OK, now it's time to panic!

The Lab Said What?

Other than the constant "upheaval" of my meals, my pregnancy was relatively smooth. I did however, have one upset from the doctor's office that left us in a dither for about 3 days. I had to have normal blood testing for each trimester. For the first trimester, this required me to starve myself of my precious food for a morning. OK, whoever invented these tests did not understand that most pregnant women need to eat before getting out of bed to prevent a mad dash for the basin. And now we have to fast for that first meal to have some blood drawn? I understand the reason behind it, but sheesh!

Anyway, I dragged myself to the lab and dealt with the needlestick and headed out the door to get the big breakfast my doctor had promised I could have in between the blood tests. I was promptly stopped at the door and told to have a seat and drink this. The lab technician handed my a bottle of "Insta-Cavity Orange Soda" (Why take years to rot your teeth when we can do it with just one sip!) I argued that I was going to McDonald's for a pancake breakfast and 2 or 3 Egg McMuffins and some hashbrowns. She explained that wasn't what my doctor had ordered. I sat down and drank the syrup (talk about morning sickness!) and had to wait a WHOLE HOUR until the final blood letting....er drawing (can you tell I don't like needles?). Finally I was able to leave and get some real food. I was finally a happy camper again.

For the bloodwork for my second trimester, my doctor's office handed me the paperwork. I was not happy about more needles, but I was willing to take one for the team, I guess. I happily bounced to the lab once again. As I be-bopped along, I thought I would be nosy and check the forms to see what they were going to use my dear precious blood for this time. I felt a surge of pride and contentment surge up my spine as I noted that the doctor's office had written in large red letters across the top of the lab order: TWINS. "That's me!" I thought, "Mother to those two little tic-tacs (OK more like Ever-Lasting Gobstoppers, by now)!" I turned in my paperwork, grateful that I didn't have to fast for this round. I followed procedure and was on my way.

Three days later I got a call from the doctor's office. The lab results were in and things were not good. The lab detected that there was an anomaly in one or both of the fetuses. There was a possibilty that the babies could have birth defects. We were devastated. We had always talked about what we would do in this situation. The answer was clear as day. We would not...COULD not abort. We had to get some answers.

I went to the doctor's office the next day to discuss options. Right off the bat, the doctor recommended amniocentesis (why are all these doctors so hyped up about needles?!). I told her that before we went that far, I wanted another blood test, from different lab. We needed a second opinion. She agreed. I drove to the hospital and had more blood drawn. The results were read this time, by the Chief of Staff himself. He achieved the same results as the lab...only he took into consideration that I was having TWINS! What a beautiful yet simple word. Yes, the word that was written at the top of my original paperwork. My babies were fine; my hormone levels were higher due to the fact that I was having two babies, therefore creating the "anomaly" effect. If the idiots at the lab at looked at that one tiny 5-letter word, all of this would have been prevented.

The third trimester, the lab screwed up once again. I had to do the fasting thing again, with that delicious orange drink. This time I had someone on my side. My cousin's wife was there, having bloodwork done for HER pregnancy-- three months ahead of me (same doctor, too!). They tried to hand me the bottle of soda and I told them that my doctor told me to have breakfast. They argued that the doctor had not marked that on the form. My cousin stood up and told them that in no uncertain terms were they going to give me the soda....she and I were going out for breakfast. So NEENER! They didn't stop us either. And I did have my pancake breakfast and 2 Egg McMuffins and hashbrowns. And it was all delicious! Almost made the needles worth it.

Life went back to somewhat normalcy. My babies were safe, things were quiet. I went to the doctor for a regular check up on August 3oth. I told Scott he didn't need to come as they were just going to check the heartbeat and measure my beyond huge belly (would the tape measure reach?). He said he was headed for Builder's Square to get some things to finish painting the babies room. Little did we know....

Food vs. Morning Sickness: The Ultimate Battle

Almost immediately after I found out I was pregnant, I started with the morning sickness. OK...up until this point I hadn't had a stomach virus in maybe 20 years, and I only got drunk enough once to get sick. Up until now I thought I had a rather strong stomach. Guess what? I was wrong! Morning sickness flattened me.....all...day...long. I didn't have morning sickness...I had all day sickness! I can remember standing over the sink for the third time that particular day thinking..."this had better be twins or triplets, cuz I'm only doing this once." My doctor gave me the usual prenatal vitamins. She told me to take them at night. That way my stomach would be "asleep" and wouldn't notice the queasiness. W-R-O-N-G! I threw up all night long! Doc told me to try Tums. Wrong again! Even today, I cannot take Tums for a stomach ache!

After finding out I was having twins, I went to a nutritionist. Her advice? Since I was pregnant with twins and essentially eating for three (!), I should be eating at least 2500 calories a day. I had just been given permission to eat whatever I wanted. Yes! She told me to stay clear of too many carbs and fats and I would be fine. I discovered that by eating small meals throughout the day I could control the morning sickness. While I wouldn't get rid of it completely until I was about 7 months along, I was able to decrease it considerably to only once a day.

I prepped for battle by keeping a bag of pretzels in my purse; I stashed a bag of animal crackers between the seats of my car; and I carried my cute little lunchbox everywhere....stuffed with carrots, apples and peanut butter, granola bars, (ooooh!) cereal and milk, those cracker and cheese sandwich thingys, pudding (did I mention that my cute little lunchbox unzips into a full-sized tailgating cooler?) bananas, yogurt, strawberries, cookies, (ummmm...what else?) pasta and meatballs, a sandwich, and whatever else my little heart desired (not sure there IS anything left)! I was loving this!

Being pregnant had its ups and downs...literally. I can remember sitting on the couch with my breakfast-- a bowl of cereal. I was about 6 months pregnant and as big as the couch itself...only rounder. I had to sit on the couch to eat because I couldn't reach the table, what with my arms being too short for my belly. I set the bowl of cereal on my belly and began shovelling the bulldozer-sized spoon in my mouth. The temperature of the cold milk in the bowl must have transferred to through to the kiddos, because all of a sudden the bowl began to jiggle and wobble!

With all this grazing, I was prepared to triple my weight....I rationalized that it was for my babies. But get this, folks, I gained only 11 pounds for my entire pregnancy. Now, calm down, ladies, I know you are ready to string me up by my toes in a jealous rage. After the twins were born....I gained over 100 lbs, because I continued to eat like I was pregnant....constantly grazing.

I was happy and pukey, but who cared? I was having twins! Nothing could ruin my day...little did I know......

The Announcement

We left the hospital and drove down the street to my mother's work. We proudly showed off the ultrasound pictures of out two little tic-tacs. However, we did not say anything yet. We happily pointed out a spine here....a head there....on each picture. My mother was just so happy and she danced around her office. Finally we let her in on our little secret....there were two pictures because there were two babies. TWINS! She cried and her boss came out of his office to see what was the matter. We all had a good cry together and headed off to our house to tell my father. Dad was a little more subdued, but still proud. We called Scott's mom and offered to take her out to lunch. We sat in a booth at the Halfmoon Diner and as we showed Mom the pictures and finally told her it was twins; she cried in her soup!

That evening I called my best friend, Jennifer, and Scott's friends, Bill and Noelle. They were all thrilled to hear the news. Finally, I called my Aunt Nancy in Florida. I asked her if she was sitting down. She asked, "Why? What's wrong?" I told her to sit down and she indicated that she was sitting and had a glass of wine. "I'm having twins," I announced.

"TWINS???!!!"

she cried....I think the entire retirement community where they lived heard her voice echoing between the rows of RVs.

The following Monday I arrived at work with pictures in hand. I showed them to my co-worker, Lynn. Lynn was the shoulder I cried on when I miscarried my first pregnancy. She had been going through the same issues as I had and we discussed many of our problems together. She looked at my ultrasounds and was able to point out the legs, hands, and spine in each picture. I finally asked her, "Lynn, why do you think I have two pictures?" and she burst into tears of joy.

Many of my coworkers and family and friends asked if I had had any morning sickness yet. Not yet, I hadn't. Little did I know.....

Did You Know You Were Having Twins?

That is a question that has been burned into my memories forever. Ah yes, that fateful day-- March 24th. We followed the instructions required for an ultrasound (drinking a whole liter of water....I think everyone could hear my guts sloshing as I walked) and headed into the hospital. I don't think we got more than a mile down the road when I noted that I REALLY had to pee! Yes, liquids go through me that quickly. My husband often claims that I suffer from TBS--Tiny Bladder Syndrome. So by the time we got to the hospital I was so uncomfortable! We filled out the paperwork and sat down to wait....and wait...and wait. OK this is a bit ridiculous to make a pregnant woman with an overly full bladder wait this long. Finally, (phew) we were ushered into a sonogram room. I had to change into one of those lovely gowns with no back. We sat and waited for the technician to arrive. On the wall was a poster showing sonogram images of various stages of gestation. Some were twins, as well as single egg gestation. It was interesting to look at and see how an embryo grows into a fetus. I remembered that I was about 11 weeks along and checked the poster to note what my baby would look like....a tic-tac? The technician finally arrived and squirted on that lovely ice-cold gel. She began the exam and I asked her to turn the monitor so Scott and I could see. I looked at the screen and then the poster...nah, couldn't be. I looked back at the screen, then back at the poster....I'm not the professional...she knows what she's looking at better than me. Meanwhile, Scott is looking back and forth between the monitor and the poster as well and his eyes are growing larger and larger and... Finally the technician asks the ultimate question...Did you know you were having twins? I nearly fell off the exam table and Scott burst into tears. We were even more entranced with our two little tic-tacs! We were able to see their heartbeats..two little Christmas lights blinking off and on...off and on. Who cares that I still had to pee? This was much better! We could not help to think that God had made up for what he had taken away 6 months earlier. We also could faintly hear Scott's grandmother...who passed away the December before....giggling and reminding Scott that he would get twice the trouble in return for what she had done to him. Little did we know....

Let's Start at the Very Beginning...

I had a hard time getting pregnant. We began trying even before we were married (shh don't tell mom!). Then I found out that I have PCOS...Polycystic Ovary Syndrome. For those of you unfamiliar with this...the tiny cysts on the ovaries prevent regular menstrual cycles. My cycles would range from a normal 28 days to a whopping 63 days! Those little buggers also raise havoc with hormones- estrogen and testosterone (yes, girls, even you have it!), creating major mood swings, unnecessary weight gain and facial hair. There I said it...ugly...but I said it.

We tried all the tricks. Nothing. Then we tried fertility medication...for a year. Any of you who have been through this know, you have to be a very organized and structured person to pull this off. For those of you who don't, heres the DL: The doctor gave me meds to bring on my period. Every morning I had to take my temperature for a full cycle and keep track on the handy-dandy calendar given to me by my doctor's office (remember, I never knew how long my cycle would be). During this time, my doctor put me on Serophene (similar to Clomid, not to be confused with Serafem, the antidepressant...what a mix up that would have been!) to work its magic on my ovaries, therefore spitting out those precious eggs. Then I had to note when my temperature was on the rise, meaning I was ovulating (sorry for all you guys out there that are a little squeamish when it comes to women's issues!) and schedule (yes, schedule) sex with my darling hubby. The poor guy was a trooper though. Due to our working schedules, we were hardly ever in bed at the same time to sleep, let alone rock the mattress! He put up with everything. Oh did I forget to mention that the Seraphene creates mood swings too (since I was already having mood swings from the PCOS you can imagine what this did to me!)? He never knew what kind of mood I would be in when he saw me next! I remember one day scrounging in the freezer for something to thaw for heartburn...er..dinner, when he made a comment that he thought was funny....dead wrong. I slammed the freezer door so hard all the magnets fell off! He left me alone after that!

Anyway, finally, after month after month after month... in May 1998 I found out I was pregnant (yay!) We were so excited that we began telling all our friends and family, little did we know.... in June I had an ultrasound and discovered that the embryo had stopped growing....gestational failure. We were devastated. The doctor gave me the option of having a D&C or waiting for it to naturally "dispose of itself." I opted for the first and spent the summer depressed and nearly inconsolable. By September, I was healed enough that we could begin trying again. By December, my husband was pulling his hair out with frustration at the scheduling of our "sessions." We decided in January that we would take a break from the fertility treatments for a while. We were both so stressed out from all the scheduling and waiting and hoping. We would try a more natural and relaxing approach. Little did we know....

On February 8, 1999....Yes, I remember the date well! My parents were meeting us at the Weathervane to celebrate my sister's and my birthday (her's is the 4th, mine's the 12th so naturally the 8th was the obvious choice....I digress). Just before we left the house, the phone rang and it was the doctor's office. I was pregnant! We had decided that this time we would keep it all hush-hush in case we had poor results again. This was hard to do with my mother-in-law standing right there waiting to go to dinner with us! I nodded my head to Scott and he understood. At my next doctor's appointment, we listened to the heartbeat and all the other baby stuff. Since I had such a hard time getting pregnant, I was considered a high risk pregnancy and was scheduled for an ultrasound in March (the 24th to be exact) at 11 weeks gestation. Little did we know....