The Delivery

Written by Rachel

To read my earlier posts, click here and here.

This was the day.  Delivery day.  The day I'd hoped I wouldn't wake up to, the day I'd hoped was just part of a horrible dream.  The day where I couldn't pretend that things weren't real.  It was actually happening.  And it was happening so fast.  One minute I was loading our little girl into the car to drop her off at my in-law's house, and the next minute, I was walking through the doors of the hospital, the same doors where, less than 24 hours ago, I had entered with an eager smile on my face hoping to see my healthy active little boys.  Now, I entered knowing that I would be leaving those same doors with an empty stomach and empty arms.

I checked in and the nurses led me to a private room where they attempted to put an IV in my arm.  I say attempted because it took FOREVER, even though I'm always told I have awesome veins every time I've had my blood drawn.  The nurse couldn't get it in, and after poking both of my arms what felt like a hundred times, she paged an anesthesiologist to come help.  After trying for another half an hour or more, he was still unsuccessful.  I think they were finally able to get the IV in my hand just before 11am, 3 whole hours after I had checked in.  Then it was finally time to begin the process of inducing labor.

Before the nurse came in to start me on the medication, a med student came in to go over a few things with us.  He told us the doctor said that the standard ultrasound wasn't necessary to see what position the babies were in since they had already passed.  But a part of me still thought, hoped, that maybe the doctor had made a mistake, that the babies were still alive, and I needed to be 100% sure.  So I requested that he do it anyway.  He was so supportive and brought out the ultrasound machine.  I was hoping that my prayers would be answered exactly how I wanted, that their hearts would miraculously beat again when I saw them on the screen.  I thought, if I have enough faith, why not?  But again, I saw the darkness in each of their bodies where there should have been a fluttering of movement.  It was the nail in the coffin.

So, on we went.  I don't really know how to explain the process without using certain terms that might make some people uncomfortable (and frankly, it makes me a little uncomfortable), but I guess (sugar-coated) honesty is the best policy here, so you can skip this part if you want :)  Because my body still thought I was months away from delivering my babies, it was not ready to give them up.  I was given pills to soften the cervix and eventually start contractions.  The nurse gave me the first dose of 2 pills at 11 am, and let's just say that it was a very uncomfortable place to have pills placed (although, as a pregnant person, I was used to it already from all my appointments, but still...never fun).  I was told previously by my doctor and again by my nurse that the process would be slow, and I would probably be in labor through the night and not deliver until the next day.  So my husband Matt and I settled in, not knowing how I would personally react to the medication but prepared that it would take a while.

I wasn't overly emotional in the hospital.  I think I was still in shock.  Maybe if I didn't acknowledge that I was devastated, I could make it through the day.  Or better yet, maybe it still wasn't real.  I think my sister was our first visitor.  She lived close to the hospital, so she ran home and grabbed some dvd's for me to watch to distract myself from all the 'hospital' stuff.  My mom also came to keep us company.  I appreciated having my family there.  It helped me keep my mind off things.  We are good at distracting each other and keeping things light.  We seem to try to handle everything with a sense of humor, even though it may seem inappropriate to laugh at times like these.  It was what I needed.  The medical staff kept coming in and checking on my progress and asking me all these questions they needed for their paperwork: what were our plans for the babies after they were born, did we want to have a funeral, did we want autopsies done, what other tests did we want, what were we naming our little boys?  I was so unprepared to answer any of their questions.  What mom wants to answer questions about funerals for their own children or what to do with their bodies?  We didn't even have names picked out!  Even that decision weighed heavily on my mind.  Matt and I only ever agreed on one boy name, and I felt like I couldn't name one of the boys that name and then give our other boy just some other random name.  So we decided not to use that name at all.  We went back and forth all day, even with suggestions from Matt like Jethro and Tull (obviously not happening, but again, we tried to keep things light).  I had some names I really liked, but we decided to wait until we met our boys to decide on their names.

The clock kept ticking and 2 pm rolled around, and still not much happening as far as contractions or anything.  I did have to keep getting up to go to the bathroom, but I thought that was just nerves.  Turns out, that was one of the unpleasant side effects of the Cytotec I had been given to induce labor.  My doctor came in to check up on me and told me that he was going to head home to rest since I probably wouldn't make substantial progress until the next day.  Then the same medical student from before came to give me my second round of pills, and I could definitely tell he was much less experienced than my first nurse.  He did one pill at a time, and was a lot slower.  I'm sure the poor guy was traumatized, as was I :)  But this time, my body started to respond to the medication.  After a few hours, just after my mom had left to go home for the night and it was just me and Matt left, my nurse came in with another medical student to tell me that my contractions were super close together, less than 30 seconds apart, which was not exactly what they wanted, so they needed to remove the pills to try and slow the contractions.  I had been very uncomfortable for a while, but it had just felt like my upset stomach was progressively tighter and way more uncomfortable.  I didn't realize I was having contractions because it honestly just felt like I was having one giant contraction that never went away, and I thought it was just the side effect again.  But I wasn't surprised they were contractions, because it explained why I was torn between wanting to stay curled up in a fetal position and wanting to run to the bathroom.  The new medical student removed all 4 of the pills (again, uber uncomfortable!) and that's when I really started to feel the pain of the contractions.  My nurse told me that this was probably happening soon and to let people know if I wanted anyone there.

My doctor was called and told to come back as soon as he could, that these babies were coming.  They also called the photographer (a friend who also lived in our neighborhood) who so graciously offered to come take pictures of my sweet baby boys while I still had them with me.  Matt called my mom and his parents and told them to inform anyone who wanted to come see the boys that they were on their way.  The anesthesiologist was also called (I definitely wanted an epidural) and was told it was "urgent", but when he came (he was an upper-year resident), he didn't know I was delivering stillborn babies, so when he found out what I was dilated to, he just laughed and said, "I thought this was urgent!"  When I told him my babies were stillborns and not full term, he quickly changed his tone and got to work.  Everything was happening so fast.  I feel like it all happened within five minutes.  I was given the epidural, clenching my jaw in pain from my contractions, and just as I was rolling back onto the table, I felt a sensation.  I practically fell back onto the bed as I shouted at the nurse, "They're coming."  And there was Baby A.

He came so fast, the nurses and doctors hadn't even had a second to prepare for him.  The anesthesiologist was still standing there with his equipment.  My doctor wasn't even back at the hospital yet.  I looked to the foot of the bed and saw the nurse wrapping my sweet little lifeless baby in a blanket.  Five minutes later, Baby B came.  As I held both tiny little  angels in my arms, I just stared at them.  My babies.  I was holding my babies.  They were ours.  How was I so lucky to have them?  I know my husband has an enormous love for and connection to our boys, but as their mamma who had carried them inside me, I just had this bond with them that intensified as soon as I cradled them in my arms.  Matt let me pick the names, so we named Baby A Maddox and Baby B Sampson.  They were real, and I was in love with them. 

They were so small, but so perfect.  Maddox had this perfect, calm look on his face, and Sampson had his little tongue sticking out.  I wanted to just hold them and stare at them forever, but I had to give them to Matt.  I was still bleeding.  The placenta wasn't detaching on it's own.  My doctor still wasn't at the hospital, so one of the resident doctors tried to manually remove the rest of placenta with his hand.  The epidural still hadn't taken effect, and let me tell you, that was the most painful thing I've ever experienced.  I may have yelled things at the doctor while he was doing it, and I'm impressed with myself that I didn't swear at him, even though I wanted to.  My mom was waiting outside the room and she could hear me yelling in pain and she was furious at the doctor.  Mamma bear coming out, I guess :)  Anyway, he wasn't able to get all the placenta, so Matt gave me a blessing after my doctor got there and I was taken into surgery.  I was pretty drugged up and still had complications, but the next thing I remember was being back in my room with Matt, our parents, my sisters, the photographer, and my little boys.

We had some pictures taken (more on this in a later post), and after everyone left for the night, the nurse told me she could take the boys at any point, but that I could keep them as long as I wanted.  Matt was nervous to keep holding them because their bodies were so soft and fragile, but as soon as he fell asleep, I asked the nurse to bring the babies to me so I could sleep with them and be with them one last time.  I remember just looking at their precious bodies, trying to memorize every detail about them and soak up every second I had left with them.  It was a very sacred time for me, just me and my babies.  There was definitely a sweet spirit in the room.  I am so eternally grateful I was able to spend those last moments together with my babies by my side.  The love I felt (and still feel) for my Maddox and Sampson was overwhelming and brought a peace to my heart that I needed more than anything.

November 15, 2012.  That was the day our family of three became a family of five.

Leap of Faith

Written by Brianna

So I thought it was time I dive into the craziness of pregnancy after loss.  The reason I lovingly refer to it as crazy, is because after enduring losing two babies and a first trimester miscarriage all in a row I kind of felt like the definition of insane.  You know,

“Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”-Albert Einstein

Since feeling insane is not the way to barrel into matters of faith, I was really touched when my husband found me this quote…

I cannot even tell you how many months these words carried me through... I sure love him. :)

Oh okay, now for that diving part. :) I thought I would share an account from my personal blog written while I was pregnant with our Rainbow Baby A.  I also feel it is important to note that I logically knew we had a choice to become pregnant again, but I never felt like I really had a choice.  To try again was like deciding whether or not to breath… I just had to.

Originally written, OCTOBER 10, 2012

I decided that it was time I give some insight into our journey to becoming pregnant again.  I am now 22 weeks pregnant, and though I am still not sure of what this baby's outcome will be I feel that I need to document this baby regardless.  I now feel I am in an emotionally stable enough place to do that.  So to keep my thoughts organized, I will break this post into categories.  Here goes...

Making a decision...

After we lost Alex the hardest part next to losing another baby was the complete lack of control I/we felt over our future.  We never felt like our family was complete, but neither one of us knew if we could take the chance of burying another baby.  Amazingly I think by the time we buried Alex we knew we would try again.  We knew there were steps that needed to be taken before we could do that, but ultimately we knew what path we needed to take.  Trust me, it is still something we prayed about fervently for confirmation, and I can honestly say we were not given a for sure answer either way.  I believed and still do that asking for another child was a righteous desire.  We don't want another one just because we make super cute babies (which we do ;).  We want to raise another child in this life because we are financially able, we have a good, solid marriage, we want to give our daughters another sibling to nurture, and we recognize our Heavenly Father's hand in all aspects of our life... like I said righteous desire.

Not to go off on a tangent, but losing a baby is kind of liking being in a plane crash (note that I know that it is far more common to lose a baby than be in a plane crash, but bear with me).  When you embark on a plane ride you know there is always a tiny chance that it may crash.  Just like when you get pregnant you know there is not a guarantee that you will get a baby to have and hold in the end, but you board the plane anyways.  You figure you know people fly every day without incident, heck you know personally several people who have flown and reach their destination worry free.  You have heard of planes crashing, but not close to as many crashes as successful flights are even mentioned.  So you go for it, because the destination is unbelievably good.

Well we are the people who have been in not one, but two plane crashes and here we are on another flight.  The reason we were able to take this leap is mostly because we have had the opportunity to see the destination.  We know what it looks, feels, and smells like.  We know we would have taken hundreds of flights just to get here.  We know the joys of parenthood, and that's what made our decision.

The medical part...

Before jumping into any big decision I am a firm believer in collecting all the information possible.  For us this included trying to find any medical reasons why my body had lost two babies.  So now it was time for testing.  Demree's loss appeared to be from a cord accident (the cord was wrapped three times around her little neck when she came out), but Alex had no apparent reason as to why her little heart just quit.  Since I lost them both at virtually the same gestation (18 weeks & 17 weeks), I really wondered if we were missing something all together. 

With both babies we chose not to have autopsies done for a couple reasons. Demree's demise seemed obvious, both Alex and Demree were the size they were supposed to be for their gestation, and they had no apparent genetic abnormalities (i.e. lower ears, cleft pallets, missing tongues)... they were perfect, just too tiny to sustain life.  I had both placentas autopsied, but nothing came up with those.  So on to me we went.  Between my OB and the perinatologist I was referred to they took at least a dozen tubes of blood and tested me for various blood clotting disorders, lupus, and any thing else they could think of.  All of this came back normal.  Next we moved on to a sonohysterogram.  This is a slightly uncomfortable test that they do to check out the structure of your uterus. Here they were looking for any septums on my uterus wall or if I had a heart shaped uterus that they had missed.  Again all came back normal.  I have a beautiful uterus, and lots of eggs in my ovaries (this is in case you were all wondering ;).  When we first went into the perinatologist, and he reviewed my history with me, I asked what my chances were of a healthy baby.  He gave me a 65% shot with my mixed history of loss and success.  Some may think that sounds defeating, but for me I was pretty impressed it was that high.  I had more failed pregnancies on my rap sheet than children living in my home, so I guess it's all in the perspective. ;)

All of the above testing took place over about two months, or as I refer to it as two cycles (for the past two years my life has been measured in cycles).  I now had no reasons from my medical professionals or other wise to not move forward and conceive again... except for the debilitating fear that had developed in my gut.

"Gonna put the world away for a minute, pretend I don't live in it.."-Zac Brown Band

While in the information phase of our decision we decided to whisk our girls off to Disneyland.  We desperately wanted to give them, and us, something to look forward too after breaking their hearts two separate times that year.  If you are in the thick of devastation I highly recommend escaping as much as possible.  The hurt doesn't go away, BUT it easier to pretend, for a minute, that this isn't happening to your family.

Stay tuned for Part 2…

Becoming "Mom"

Alli's Story - Part 3

To read Part 1, click here.
To read Part 2, click here.

It’s very fitting that while I’m writing this post, we are on our way to Arizona to see Carter’s birth mom.  This is the first time we are seeing her since he was born exactly 20 months ago and I can't wait to see her!  But, more to come on that in another post. :)

We were chosen by our birth mom on March 28, 2012.  She was due the middle of August.  THAT was a long 5 months.  Many hours were spent on Pinterest, looking for designs for the perfect nursery.  Thankfully that is a huge time waster, so I was able to find ways to fill my time.    Late afternoon on Wednesday, August 8^th, I was with our youth group driving to the lake to go waterskiing.  We'd be driving about 15 minutes when I got a text from E (our birth mom).  It said, “Hey beautiful.  How long does it take you to get to Arizona?”  I wasn't driving, so I told my friend, Melissa to “Take the next exit!  I think our birth mom is about to have the baby!”.  I was texting E as fast as I could.  She was in fact scheduled for a C Section the next day at 1:00.  Since it was an 11 hour drive from our house to Arizona, Paul and I needed to leave ASAP if we were going to be there in time.  The youth group dropped me off at a McDonald’s right off the exit and I called Paul to tell him he needed to leave work right away, we were going to meet our son!  I called my friend Rachel next to see if she could come rescue me from the McDonald’s.  She happily said yes.  While I was sitting at McDonald’s, I started calling our family to tell them we were headed to Arizona.  I was crying with every phone call.  A very nice couple offered me some napkins and that sweet gesture caused even more crying.  I was so happy to see Rachel.  I couldn't wait to start the drive to meet our baby boy.

Paul met me at home and we hurriedly packed.  Since we were doing an interstate adoption, we didn't know how long we would have to be there.  We needed to plan for at least 2 weeks, but it could be more (more on this later).  So we packed up pretty much our whole house.  Rachel saved the day again when we didn't know how to install the car seat (apparently you either use the hooks or the seatbelt, not both.  We thought both would be the obvious choice,  because you know, Safety First!).  We drove 4 hours that night and arrived at our hotel after midnight.  We woke up bright and early at 5:30 a.m. and headed for Arizona.  Thankfully they are an hour behind us, so we gained an hour on the drive.  We arrived in Arizona  just in time to receive a picture of our son.  He was born happy and healthy at 1:15 p.m.  As hard as it was not to go straight to the hospital, we wanted to give E and her family time with the baby before we showed up.  So we checked into our hotel and bought E some flowers before going to the hospital.  E was (as always), thinking about us and had her sister text us to tell us she was out of surgery and to get up to the hospital!  So we headed to the hospital.

This was taken in front of the hospital before we met Carter.  Our last picture as a family of 2.

I was trying to keep my emotions in check, but they were all over the place.  Excitement, fear, nervousness, joy.  It was hard to even think straight.  We walked into the hospital and headed to E's room.  When we walked in, she was there with her family.  I was so happy to see her and see that she was ok.  Paul and I hugged her and talked to her and made sure she was feeling ok.  Then E's mom said, “Do you want to hold your son?”.  Oh wow, the tears started flowing.  I couldn't wait to get my arms around that precious little spirit.  He was perfect in every way!  He was absolutely the most beautiful baby I had ever seen.  There was my son.  My precious little Carter.  The baby we had prayed for and hoped for for years.

Adoption is a tricky thing.  At that moment, he wasn't ours yet.  And yet he felt like he was.  We wanted to be respectful of E and her family, but we also wanted to just hold and feed and change him.  I wanted to send pictures to everyone I knew and I was deeply saddened that our family couldn't be there to be a part of this momentous day (not because E didn't want them there, but because it was so far away from home).  I was very aware of the fact that there were no parents or siblings there to celebrate with us.  I tried not to let that bother me and just soak up every single minute we had with E and Carter.  E had requested that we have a room in the hospital so we could be with Carter as much as possible.  The next two days were spent going back and forth between E’s room and ours.  E was amazing and let us have Carter in our room during the night so we got to experience the first moments of parenthood.  She wanted time with Carter by herself and her family, so she had moments alone with him as well.  At the time, I was so nervous when she was with him, but looking back on it, I wish I would have encouraged her to spend even more time.

My absolute favorite picture of Paul.  Can you tell he loves his son?

After 48 hours, E was able to go home.  While she couldn't sign the relinquishment papers for another 24 hours, she wanted us to take Carter with us when we checked out of the hospital.  So we had to say our goodbyes at the hospital.  That was the hardest day of my life and I’m sure of hers.  We gave her a gift and we all took pictures and then we cried and hugged.  We spent time with her parents while E was saying goodbye to Carter and they assured us that E had known since the day she found out she was pregnant that she was going to place and that when she found us, she knew Carter was meant for us.  Have I mentioned how wonderful E and her family are!  It was horrible having to say goodbye to E and her parents.  I couldn't help but feel guilty as I held that sweet little boy in my arms.  I was torn between happiness and sadness and couldn't quite pinpoint which one I should be feeling.  And while I was so happy to have Carter, I was still nervous.  Placement day technically wasn't for another 24 hours, so he still wasn't ours.  

We took Carter back to our hotel and tried to relax.  But I’ll be honest, I just wanted the next 24 hours to be over.  The case worker called and said he was meeting with E at 1:15 the following day and then he would come to us and we would sign papers as well.  We asked him if he would take a gift for E and give it to her when she signed the relinquishment papers.  We had gotten her a necklace and written her letters.  I was very conscious of the time the next day and could feel my heart breaking at the moment it was time for E to sign.  I could not imagine the strength, courage and love it took E to do that.  We heard from the case worker shortly after 1:15 and he said E had signed and he would be at our hotel shortly.  I was filled with relief, but also guilt that I was relieved.  I knew she was hurting and I wanted to be there with her to hug her, and to tell her how much I loved her.  But I knew I couldn't.  I knew this was something she had to do.  So I did the next best thing.  I held Carter instead and told him over and over how much his birth mom loved him.  I told him what an amazing woman she was and that we loved her so much.  She is forever a part of our family and we are forever joined by one amazing little boy.

Our first family picture, taken in our hotel room, by E's case worker.

Taking the Plunge

Many times in our lives we are asked the question in some form or another "how many kids will you have?" You think about it a lot when you're growing up, you talk about it when you're dating someone seriously or when you get engaged, you get asked that question when you are newly married. My answer was always four. Some days I'd take ten and others I wonder why I was entrusted with any at all. But at the end of the day I always thought we'd end up with four.

About seven months after we had our second little boy, we felt it was time to start planning to get our next little bundle here. My last healthy pregnancy took a little over a year and a half to achieve, so we thought if we got started early, we'd actually get pregnant when he was about two years old, which would be perfect. I was also hoping by getting an early start, I'd avoid the feelings of frustration and disappointment that come along with infertility. I'm quickly learning that pregnancy can't be planned- at least not for me.

Once again it was month after month of negative results. We planned on it not happening quickly. I won't bore you with the details of a years worth of infertility treatments, I'll just give a quick glimpse of everything we were going through which eventually led us to part of our decision to attempt IVF. 

From September 2012 to September 2013 I had gone from one dose of Chlomid to double doses of Chlomid and Femera, I had two hysterosalpingogram (HSG) tests, three IUI's, two ruptured cysts,  suffered an ectopic pregnancy which led to laproscopic surgery all while getting pretty regular follicle checks that showed everything looked perfect! I should definitely be able to get pregnant. It was a lot to go through. I don't want anyone to think I'm looking for sympathy by sharing this. IVF is an intense process. It's not only emotionally and physically draining, but its also a huge financial commitment. I feel I have to share what I was experiencing in order for it to be understood why after only a year and a half of rather minor infertility treatments, we decided to take the plunge and give IVF a try.

Another huge factor in our IVF decision was the result of my ectopic pregnancy. In November of 2012 we found out that I was pregnant, but unfortunately it ended up being a tubal pregnancy. Ectopic pregnancies can be scary. There isn't a way to save an ectopic pregnancy. It can't turn into a normal pregnancy and if the egg keeps growing in the fallopian tube, it can damage or burst the tube which not only causes more fertility problems, but can also be life threatening. My ectopic was just far enough along, that laproscopy surgery was required. I was in shock that this was happening to me. According to Google only 1-2% of women experience an ectopic pregnancy. I couldn't believe that I was falling into that 1-2%. Luckily everything went well with my surgery- except the fact that it was another pregnancy lost. 

Six months later my second HSG test showed that this same tube was now blocked, most likely due to scar tissue that formed as a result of my surgery. I was told that basically this tube was done. This was a huge disappointment to me. I already have a hard enough time as it is getting pregnant when I'm "normal," but now with only one healthy tube, I felt my chances took a dramatic decrease.

Then in September, on my ten year wedding anniversary (of all days), I had another ruptured cyst. They aren't life threatening by any means, but those little things are painful! So instead of celebrating my anniversary, I spent the day in bed and at the doctors just making sure that's what was causing the pain and not another ectopic pregnancy. My Dr. also reviewed my medical history and she believed that my blocked tube was the only side that was really producing any eggs. I didn't even know that could happen. At that point I was done. Mentally and emotionally. I felt like getting pregnant on my own was sort of a lost cause. However, my Dr. believed I would be the perfect candidate for IVF.

I'm sure anyone that has had to consider IVF knows that it is not a cheap process. Fortunately for us, my husbands insurance at the time covered about half the costs of IVF. It's not very common to come across medical benefits that cover infertility treatments. The only problem was, he was switching jobs at the end of the month so we would only have this insurance for a short time longer. We felt that if in the end, IVF was our best option to get pregnant, it was better to do it now when insurance would help relieve some of the financial burden, than in the future when we wouldn't have this help. We met with our new infertility doctor, who thought at the time that this would be a "slam dunk" for us. I was able to get pregnant in the past, I was still at a good age, and I didn't really have anything medically that she could see that would decrease our chances. My past miscarriages were a little concern, but not huge since they weren't consecutive and I had healthy pregnancies inbetween. I think she said we had a 65% chance of it working out. How could we not give IVF a shot? It seemed at the time an answer to all our infertility problems.  I want another baby so badly it was a no brainer, we had to try.

When we started the whole IVF process we figured it would be a one time deal. We were very optimistic it would work the first time.  We knew we could get pregnant- we have two kids! I never thought I'd end up attempting IVF three times!

I also want to give a huge THANK YOU to everyone that sent me comments and messages. I get so nervous posting about this- mostly because I don't want anyone to think I'm looking for sympathy. So it really meant a lot to me that anyone would take the time to send me words of encouragement. THANK YOU!!

This Can't be Real...

Written by Rachel

To read the beginning of my story, click here.

First off, can I just say how amazed I am that anyone outside my immediate family even read my first post!  I'm shocked and flattered, so thank you whoever read it!  I didn't even have to bribe people :)  But as I've re-read what I posted and as I've been thinking about my experiences and the messages I hope to convey by sharing my story, I really hope people don't read my posts and think I'm looking for sympathy or attention.  For those who know me, that's the last thing I want, and it kind of embarrasses me if people do think that.  I also don't want to seem ungrateful.  I really am a lucky girl.  I hope you keep reading what I write because once I get through what I feel are the necessary details in order to know my background for this blog, I will share more of my perspective, not just all the depressing details :)

So...back to my story for now...

Before I lost my twins, I really had no idea what women went through who had lost a baby during their pregnancy.  I'd always heard of people who had miscarriages or stillborn babies (my own mom had both), and I definitely felt sorry for them, but what happened behind the scenes never really crossed my mind.  I would see them going about their days after the fact and think that they were 'ok' after a while.  Going through it myself has really increased my empathy for women who lose a child.  It was a major eye opener for me.  Major.

As we sat in the doctor's office after being told neither of our babies had a heart beat anymore, I felt like a giant boulder was sitting on my chest.  I couldn't breathe.  Tears filled our eyes as I asked the doctor questions, and my voice weakened as I asked if they were boys or girls.  He said they were both little boys.  Identical twin boys.  The tears fell from our cheeks.  I couldn't believe that just a month ago we were experiencing a double high of learning we were having twins, and even five minutes ago we were laughing about what color of blankets to make the babies.  And now it was a double low.  Our anticipation and excitement was replaced by grief and despair.  The blow was enormous.

My doctor then explained our options at that point.  We could choose to have a d & c, which was a surgical removal of the babies, a quicker and less involved process, but the babies would probably not come out intact.  Our other option was to have a normal delivery, where labor would be induced and I would have a 'normal' delivery.  How was I having to make this decision right now?  I came to my appointment hoping to see each of my babies' tiny little fingers, toes, and healthy heartbeats, hoping to have happy little babies to hold in my arms in a few short months, and now I was deciding how to remove their lifeless bodies from my body.  It was an unreal moment.  I knew what I wanted to do, but the doctor told us to go home and think about it and call him back later that night.  He gave us a few moments alone in the ultrasound room and told us we could sneak out the back door when we were done so we wouldn't have to walk through the waiting room past all the other expectant moms eagerly awaiting their turn to see their babies.  The ultrasound tech came back in the room at our request so she could make one last ultrasound DVD for us of our babies.  I wanted to remember every little thing about my sweet boys.  I wanted to see their two little bodies cuddled up next to each other.  I wanted to see their little hands and feet, their little spines, everything.  They looked perfect.  Once she finished and left the room, I don't even remember what my husband and I said to each other as we sat in the darkened room by ourselves.  I think we were both still in shock.

Baby A

Baby B

We finally headed down to the car, still trying to make sense of what had just happened.  I called my mom as we drove away, and as she asked how my appointment went, I choked out "We had an ultrasound and neither of the babies had a heartbeat."  Then I just took a deep breath.  I could tell her heart broke over the phone.  Next, I called my mother-in-law.  She was watching our little girl and I wanted to tell her before we got there because I didn't know how to say it in person.  My voice cracked as I told her the news.  The rest of the drive home was somber.  I stared at the road, stunned.  When we got to the house to pick up our girl, she was playing happily in the living room.  I didn't want her to see me sad, so I tried to put on a smiling face and attempted a cheerful greeting.  I had never had to pretend like that for her before, and man, it was hard.  My voice was shaky and I'm sure my smile wavered.  My parents invited us and my mother- and father-in-law to come over for dinner and so my dad could give me a blessing.  After my dad gave me the blessing and my husband's dad gave him one, and after many tears were shed, I finally called my doctor back.

Before I even asked him what he would tell his own daughter to do, he said "If you were my daughter, I would tell you to have the induced labor and deliver the babies."  That confirmed my decision.  I knew I wanted to be able to hold my precious little boys before I had to say goodbye to them, even if it meant going through a potentially long and emotionally (and physically) draining process of labor and delivery.  I knew I needed that experience.  I also couldn't handle the thought of the alternative (even though I understand in emergencies, sometimes that's the only option).  So we scheduled to go in to the hospital first thing the next morning.

That night, Brianna kindly came over to give us some advice since she'd previously had similar experiences.  Heading into the unknown was terrifying, so knowing that someone we knew could tell us a little of what we might expect helped dilute a small portion of our apprehension.  As I laid in bed, I was filled with longing that I could keep the peaceful 'sleeping' boys in my stomach forever or that I would wake up and it would all have been a bad dream.  I prayed that somehow the doctor had made a mistake and that my babies hearts would beat again. When we woke up the next morning after an anxiety-filled night, the reality started to set in (though I still felt in denial) and we reluctantly headed to the hospital.

We were headed for a day of decisions that I never dreamed I would be making at this time in my life.  We were headed for one of the scariest, most emotional, most sacred days of my life.

Little Stings

Written by Brianna

When you first lose a baby the blows are so huge that you feel a shortness of breath at any given time.  And in my case they just kept coming.  I was in and out of pregnancy every few months or so from July 2010 through January 27^th, 2013.  Yep two and a half years of being pregnant, suddenly not being pregnant, wanting nothing more than to still be pregnant, trying hard to get pregnant again, and surviving an anxiety ridden pregnancy... rinse, cycle, repeat.  This unfortunately had become my identity and the blows were constant… but expected.  What I hadn't expected, and what still surprises me, are the little stings that come now.

The best way to describe “little stings”, are to give some examples.  For instance, every time someone asks me how many kids I have I am taken back.  It’s an honest, well meant question as to which I have had to figure out what the correct answer for me is.  I have come up with what I feel is a good one, I simply say "I have three girls here" or "I have three girls at home".  Most of the time people don't hear much after three girls, but if they do and probe any further I am happy to explain.  Funny thing about me is that I have found I am good with explaining to the extent that I feel they are comfortable hearing... I hate making people uncomfortable, but that's a whole other post. ;) (sigh) Still every time I get asked that question I pause for a moment in order to set aside that flutter in my stomach before I answer... every time.

Another more recent one occurred just this past week when my almost eight year old daughter was to be “Star of the Week” in her class at school.  On her all about me question sheet it asked how many brothers and/or sisters she had.  She wrote in the number 2.  She then proceeded to tell me she knows she has four sisters, but two of them are in heaven.  I know her explanation to me was trying to spare my feelings, and I know she doesn't want to try to explain to her seven and eight year old classmates that she has sisters in heaven… logically I know this…. BUT it still stung a little.

The stings come as each year passes, and my babies become a little less remembered.  Their names get mentioned less, a few less people acknowledge their birthdays, they get a little more forgotten, and many assume that I am "all better".  Now this is not on purpose.  Friends and family usually mean well, but when someone is not right in front of you all the time it just gets easier to forget about them :(… right, wrong, or indifferent.

 Pictured is all of us visiting Alex for her 2nd Birthday.  Demree's grave is located right behind the girls.  I heart this picture. ;')

Now I like to end these posts on a positive note.  I am not wallowing in my own pity party or expecting an influx of apologies from my above mentioned well meant friends and family.  I am a very loved girl and I have a HUGE support system.  I much prefer the little stings to the big blows any day of the week, but to pretend they don’t phase me would be a disservice. Even though I have come to expect a few stings as I navigate through this life with a piece of my heart missing, I still can’t help but be a little stunned when I feel them.

Last but not least, all of my love to those still in the knock out round. :’)

CHOSEN

Alli's Story - Part 2

If you haven't read part 1, click here to read "Meant to be Ours".

We started the adoption process in May 2011.  I won't bore you with the details of classes, paperwork, background checks, references, etc. It is a very intense process and one I'm not excited to complete again.  We were fairly quick with the entire process and 4 months later we were approved to adopt!  In July 2011 we finally told our families about what we had been experiencing the past few years.  Paul and I had been very quiet in our struggle and our families were completely unaware of what was happening.  We made the following video to tell them:



It's not professional, but it was how we were feeling at the time.  There were many tears and lots of questions, but everyone was extremely happy for us.  Then the waiting began.  I thought infertility was difficult.  Waiting for an expectant mom to choose us was torture.  Looking back, we were so lucky.  We were chosen in just 7 months.  But at the time, I didn't know how I would make it from day to day.

We were contacted in February 2012 by one of Paul's friends on Facebook (she was actually his girlfriend from high school).  She asked if we were still interested in adopting and if so, she had someone she would like to send our information to.  Paul emailed her back and said we were definitely interested and asked her to have the expectant mom look at our blog.  This was on a Friday and we waited and waited and waited for word.  FINALLY (it really wasn't that long, but it felt like an eternity) on Monday we got a very short email from our now birth mom that said, "I don't want to rush into any decision, but I do think it's important we talk to each other.  So let me start by saying, Hi, I'm "E".  This began the beginning of a very wonderful relationship.  We couldn't email back and forth enough.  We wanted to learn everything about her and she wanted to know everything about us.  We were new at this and didn't want to offend her, so it took us a few weeks before we even asked when her due date was!  On March 26, she sent us a picture of the ultrasound and told us she was having a boy!  At this point, Paul and I were cautiously optimistic that this would be our son.  We both felt complete peace and we loved "E" so much already.

On March 28, we got an email from "E".  She usually didn't send an email in the middle of the day, so I was instantly nervous.  Then she started the email, "I don't think this is the best way to tell you,".  My heart sank.  I was devastated.  I just knew she had chosen another family.  Then the next line said that she'd been getting to know us for quite some time and had grown to care for us.  I'll be honest, it still sounded like she was going to "break up" with us.  I hurried and scanned the email as quick as I could.  I stopped reading and started crying uncontrollably when I read this sentence, "I would love for you guys to adopt my baby boy and be the parents that he deserves".  I couldn't believe it.  Now that I knew it was good news, I went back through and read the whole email.  It was so sweet and loving.  I called Paul immediately and asked him if he'd read his email.  He was all choked up and I could tell he was crying.  He left work instantly and hurried home so we could celebrate together.  While I was waiting for him, I just sat in a daze for awhile.  I felt different.  The word "son" took on a whole new meaning and it didn't seem to make sense anymore.  I was going to be a mom!!  I started to compose our response email to "E", which was extremely difficult.  What can you possibly say that would be as good as the gift she was giving us?  I just pretended she was sitting next to me and wrote back all the emotions and feelings I had.  I wanted to meet her in person and hug her and tell her how much I loved her!  I wanted her to know that we would take care of her precious little boy and he would always know how much his birth mom loves him.

Our announcement to our friends and family

Although we were so excited, we knew that our happiness was a result of another woman's sacrifice.  A woman we loved very much.  That's the thing about adoption.  The greatest moments of our life were the hardest moments of "E"'s.  We felt her pain and sadness through our happiness.  Although she said she was at peace with her decision, I knew the pain wasn't completely gone and I knew we still had a very exciting, but hard day ahead of us.

To Read Part 3, Becoming Mom, click here.