How many of you recall your mother telling you to eat your greens growing up? In fact, I am that clichÃ© to my kids now, harping on them to eat their greens. So what is so important about these vegetables? I am glad you asked, one vitamin that is so important is folate, or known as folic acid. The Arizona Department of Health Services PowerMeA2Z site, which is designed especially with women in mind, educate women and offer a way for women to order a 100-day supply of FREE multivitamins with 400mcg folic acid.Â The Arizona Department of Health Services PowerMeA2Z site says that this B-vitamin is intricate in reducing the risk of neural tube defects in babies. Beyond that, folic acid is also used for other conditions commonly associated with folate deficiency, including ulcerative colitis, liver disease, alcoholism, and kidney dialysis. Who knew… but folic acid also makes your hair shine, your nails grow and your skin glow. Continue reading “Power Women’s Health Multi-Vitamins with Folic Acid”
As a mother I think that a great deal of misconception surrounds trying to conceive for women. I personally went through my own struggles. From complicated health issues that hindered my ability to conceive to loss. To conceive a child is what some of us consider to be what makes us women. While we are no less human or no less a woman, the yearning for a child for many women is very biological.
Currently I have a friend who has struggled, as I had to conceive. But I feel her story is worth sharing as I wish her all the baby dust and sprinkles in the world as she begins her journey into motherhood.
Her conception struggles began sometime last year as she made her first attempts at conception. Knowing some early pregnancy symptoms and signs she knew she was pregnant. But as veteran mothers know, the first 12 weeks are always the danger zone. Within the week of sharing her good news with the blessed few, including myself, she was experiencing heartache. My heart broke for her as I watched hers break over and over and I saw her wretched with pain. I saw her come to work and swallow her pain. I knew her pain, I once experienced her pain, but how can you console a grieving woman who so badly wants to be a mother just as I had become. At a loss with her loss I gave her space but shared my pain with her, my struggles as a reassurance she was not alone, to aid in her healing.
Time passed and she tried yet again only to be faced with the same result, loss, grief, and the emptiness that she may never become a mother. I saw the despair, I could feel her despair, I once experienced this myself, and again I offered my friendship and experience as a consolation that conception can suck, but she is not alone.
However Â her loss became a sounding strength as she became more determined to find the root of her struggles of which she did and did so with some success. She found answers, direction, and a healing path. She recently just found she was pregnant, without jinxing the impeccable news, she has not shared with many people, and I will not share her name because I would hate to jinx this for her as well. But my intent is to share that conception is not always a joyous event. Women struggle each day, but with struggles and heartache can eventually yield the joy and love every woman who is trying to conceive deserves.
Please cheer, pray, light candles, whatever your methodology may be for my dear friend as she travels through the next seven weeks to the path of glory and surviving her first trimester into the coming days of motherhood. I have been honored to get her every other day results with her blood work as her levels climb at awesome levels. My personal hope is she is
cursed blessed with twins and she experiences all the joys, laughter, struggles, and growing pains of any parent.
Our journey to motherhood should not be met with such woe and sorrow, but the reality is that we are thrown a curve ball. How we act upon that curve ball is whether we step back from the plate or we take a swing and run for the bases.
Hard to believe just two years ago I was ever so thankful to the higher powers that be that I went into labor THE DAY after Valentine’s. While still a blessing to deliver two sweethearts on the sweetest day of the year I wouldn’t want these two to be screwed eternally. Like being born on or around Christmas. As a child you miss out on the loots.
I went into labor at around 9am or 10am that morning. A Friday to be exact. Grant was home that day since he did not have his early learners class. I made a late breakfast and breathed through my contractions. What a joy to actually feel my contractions. My abdomen tightening and releasing was such a thrill for me. I had back labor with Grant so I prayed for mercy for any poor soul that touched, talked, or let alone BREATHED on me when I was in labor with him.
After breakfast I did some laundry and then decided to tell my mother I was in labor. The Chad called in that morning; he was having a late start since the company he worked for was on what they liked to call “Mormon Standard time” which meant everything was at least 15 minutes or more behind the scheduled time. My kind of company if you ask me.
We timed the contractions which I know this may sound sick, but I loved them. So thrilling and getting stronger by each hour or so. They were still about 20 minutes apart. I cleaned the house and mopped the floors. Did some dishes. Needless to say I was nesting at the last minute. Finally at about two that afternoon I called my mom and said it was time for us to leave and I needed her to grab the boy. He was unfortunately not allowed to come since the time of year was RSV season and I was technically in “pre-mature” labor but definitely not pre-term. Been there done that with the twins which is another fabulous story.
By the time my mother arrived and we headed to the hospital we were in the midst of rush hour traffic and the hospital was in the north valley. A good 30 minutes or more to get there on a regular traffic day so add 15 minutes for good measure. I was breathing through them still. Now they were getting closer….about two minutes apart and we were on the interchange which meant at least another 20 minutes or more to get to the hospital as we jockeyed through rush hour on the 202 to the 51.
We walked straight up to the OB floor where I checked in and was placed in the same crappy room from my pre-term experience. I was then greeted by the bitch ray of light nurse that everyone wants when in labor with twins. Condescending, cold, and just a bundle of “So glad to have you as my nurse.” Thankfully her coven must have called her back because I was greeted by the true bundles of joy shortly after her. A nurse who was ever excited and I was happy to have someone there to treat me like an intelligent human and not just a humongously pregnant blond broad.
Vitals were done and I was walking through drug options by my anesthesiologist who quite frankly reminded me of Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. Creepy! I was then wheeled into the OR buck naked and prepped for surgery. WTF!!??
I was so excited to have these babies but oh dear what in ever is holy in this world was I thinking about being cut open….AGAIN!!??? AWAKE??!!
So The Chad joined me after I was numb and was completely clueless to my lack of feeling until I felt a sensation of rushing which meant they were working on me and I was told “You will feel a bit of tugging.”
ARE YOU DAMN SERIOUS?! HAVE YOU FELT THE TUGGING!? Holy schnikes Batman that is the weirdest feeling on Earth. And so I lost it. Yes…..bawling. Crying. Wailing. Begging to know the answer:
“What the fuck were we thinking honey bunny?” As The Chad wiped the tears from my eyes and the OR erupted into hysterical laughter! I cried in my head…stop laughing you imbeciles you have no idea.
Then I heard the beautiful sound of a baby cry. Baby A. 4:53pm. Lots of scurrying about and “Oh my gawd’s.” What were these OMG remarks about. Please tell me. Again I hear, “Some more tugging” to which I want to say, are you hearing yourself man…I will show you a tug! And they say Baby B. 4:54pm. No cries. Again, the scurrying and The Chad tells me they are beautiful and they all run off.
I lay there. Cold. In shock. Really. I lost a good amount of blood, throwing my body into shock where I am borderline convulsing from the cold. I am about to lose my mind. Thoughts and fears. Lots of fear and no one is talking to me. I lay in a pool of tears unable to speak, fighting back all my urge to scream out and cry. I am given blankets for warmth but the warmth is gone like a fart in a windstorm. I am lost in my own thoughts, a sea of confusion demanding to know where my babies are what the hell is going on will someone help me.
I am wheeled back into my room where I begin recovery where I am swarmed by the medical team. Finally the swarm and their buzzing begin to subside and I see the man who looks like a boy in a candy store. He is beaming. Grin from ear to ear like the cat who ate the mouse. Telling me all about the experience in the nursery with the twins. I am hurt but ever so eager to hear. Wanting so badly to have been in there with them.
He explains the condition with Baby A, Seth Michael Herring weighing in at a strong 8lbs 2 oz. Yes. That’s right. In fact Big G weighed that when he was born. He is doing well, they were a bit worried about him but he is doing well. Had to suction him a bit extra since he had a bit extra fluid on his lungs but he is doing well. I demand the APGAR on Seth which was a 9. Oh thank heavens! I then beg to hear about Baby B Sara Noel Herring weighing in at a petite, but ever so healthy 6lbs even. She is smaller a needed a bit with her glucose levels but she is doing really well. Hardly any crying and she came out with her eyes open and bright. The OR staff called her a peanut because of her size and the OMG I heard was the sheer size of Seth. Beast!
Not until that night was I finally able to hold my children. To weep and stare at them. In sheer awe of the 36 weeks and 4 days of incubation to get to this moment. A moment of denial and disbelief. Is this my life? Are these really my children in all their beauty and perfection? Their snub noses and beautiful round heads. Grunting and nuzzling. I wanted to just look at them and hold them ever so tightly. Never forgetting this moment. I did it. I really did this. I brought life to TWO separate people in the same womb. Healthy. I could hold them and be with them. I was on the highest cloud. And at the same time my brain went into overdrive.
I now had a c-section to recover from in addition to caring for these babies. i got my ass in gear and got up as much as my body would not let me. I forced myself through my exhaustion to walk. I had to walk. Walking would jump start my bowels again. I fought. I didn’t sleep for 36 hours. I deprived myself and I was beginning to fail. I could not do this. I finally shook off the mommy guilt and asked the nurses to take the twins and feed them for me so I could sleep. A measly four hours but four hours on pain meds was better than none. I learned to sleep more in the next 24 hours. I learned to manage them and manage my time. I plotted out feeding schedules and times and who preferred what breast and what I could do to make sure these two remained healthy and strong.
And today I look at what I can do to retain my sanity for just a few more hours. As I watch them push chairs to countertops to retrieve the Blackberry, the “pown” as they call it. I watch them load the dishwasher and say ‘Cheers’ as they clank their sippy cups together. I cry at small moments when I am alone to know they are my legacy. I am saddened that I will never hold a baby of my own again. The downy molt of their skin smelling like Baby Fresh lotion and the faint smell of a new diaper. The beautiful sleepy eyes of two nursing faces. The small fingers caressing the side of my breast as I fed them. So I grieve the end of my era as a mother to a newborn. I embrace my future as a potential grandmother.
I hold them tighter today as they turn two. Strong, intelligent, resourceful, obstinate and loving they are, I am in awe that these two people are mine. All mine. How fast the time flies. How I want them to grow up and how I want them to stay this small, cherishing each moment no matter how frustrating when they unload the recycle bin together. Toss tupperware dishes full of dirt into the house. Or unload my bathroom of my toilettries and the 10 pack of razors I bought is now a three pack since seven were used as a flushing experiment and basic entertainment. I will never forget the moment I found I was pregnant with them, delivered them, held them, knew I loved them, and I will never forget how I watched them grow.
Happy Birthday Seth and Sara…love Mama.
Forget the “Table for 12” and move over “Jon and Kate” because had my body gotten her way….I would have had my own reality show. Seriously 7 kids in 4 pregnancies…do the math. We would have been a school of fish…or maybe a gaggle as the title would be so fittingly called.
I shared my story of not always being a mom and my conception quest, but little did you know that conception was the least of our problems.
When DH and I began our parenthood journey we did like every couple does. We screwed like rabbits. We did. All the time, anywhere, anytime, whenever we could. Here, there, everywhere. We were like Sam I Am eating our green eggs and ham.
After a year or more of trying and still an empty nest and a cold oven, we did what the old wives would do:
- Stand on my head
- Tilt your hips at a certain angle
- Not move after sex (okay, passing out counts too)
- Drinking a caffeinated beverage
- Not drinking a caffeinated beverage
- Waiting a few days in between
- Eating more beef
- Taking my temperature
- Took his for good measure
You get the gist.
So when a baby didn’t come we began to question our ability. My ability. I knew it was all me. Something drastically changed after my appendectomy. I did not have a traditional appy but a nasty ooey gooey mess of peritonitis appy. The kind you clearly die from, which I almost did. I had complication after complication and I think I have had more CT scans than anyone under the age of 25 is allowed. Finally after recovery and giving up and just getting back to rabbit shifting and the occasional married sexless night we get pregnant.
JOY & RAPTURE I tell you!
I could not believe the test in front of me. I freaked. I freaked some more. I ran to the store and bought more tests. PINK, PINK, and more PINK told me YES! I called the boss on a Sunday to tell him I was running late for work and they could sell cars without me to draw up papers for at least an hour. I ran to DH’s work and surprised him with a bib that says “I Love Daddy.”
He looked at me like I was nuts. He looked at the bib confused. Me confused, the bib is nuts! Sheepishly he says, “You’re….??” YUP! And like that we were pregnant. But not like that was all that hard….or easy. Nothing in life has ever been easy for me. Not saying I have had the hardest life, but I was never given even the chance to look at a silver spoon.
A few weeks later…cramps, bleeding. Possibly a scare. Went home to rest and called the doc. They said go to the ER if it gets worse. So I did, as the pain got worse. Six hours later….a threatened abortion which means that bleeding happened but the pregnancy seems A-OK. Wait until my docs appointment to follow up. Which was at least a two month wait. But clearly my body and higher powers had other decisions because only a week and a half later I was in the same ER. FOR. EVER! Writhing in pain. Wanting to kill the nurse. Wanting something for the pain but not wanting to hurt the pregnancy. After an ultrasound and many more hours of waiting on into the morning of Easter Sunday we get the news. We are miscarrying.
Devastation. And then the five stages of grief. I took a week off of work to get my act together. During that week I still did not experience any “miscarriage” per se. Lots of pain. Burning in my upper top thighs. More pain. I called my doc. At least 100 times. I had some incompetent nurse attempt to coddle me as if I was a teen pregnancy. My mom finally told me….”Karie, this is the time to be a bitch!” So I did. And was I ever in my doctors office faster than you could make the appointment. An ultrasound was done and an “Oh Shit” was said by the sonographer when the doctor came in to tell me I was being admitted to the hospital downtown.
Por que? Well, seems that I have a “blighted ovum” which is a pregnancy that didn’t take in my uterus and an ectopic pregnancy. Fabulous. What does that mean? A surgery and a D&C. So I lost my right fallopian tube and twins all in one fail swoop. Great first round.
For months later while I wallowed in my sorrow, continued to work my ass off at the dealership with the false hope of ever getting a promotion, I researched my condition. Was it a condition or a fluke? Turns out I had a condition. I had adhesion’s from my appendectomy, severe enough to wrap themselves around my right fallopian tube, choking off the path. I researched pregnancy with one tube after an ectopic. Chances of another ectopic at the time were HIGH. Chances of getting pregnant on one fallopian tube. 34%. The odds sucked. So in July of 2002, a few months after the ectopic I had a test done to determine my chances of pregnancy on my left fallopian tube.
The test seemed simple enough. Inject dye into the tube, do X-Ray simultaneously, done! Not so much. They only told me that before until I got there when they decided to open my cervix with a plastic balloon to shoot the dye into my fallopian tube. Pain pain and more pain, followed shortly by burning, burning, buring. Get this done! Success. The left tube is open no problems.
So we washed, rinsed, and repeated the above pregnancy attempting ritual. Until one fateful December night, on the red chair. My mother now owns that chair. *Hi Mom! Yes, Christmas Eve to be exact. Weird how I know this but I just know. In the meantime our house in up for sale, we have plans of moving from then Albuquerque to here (Arizona) and I am job searching. In January I fly to Phoenix for five interviews and land a job. Fly back that night, and the next day plan to submit my resignation working until the end of the month. Because I was a greedy bastard at the time running a department I wasn’t given enough pay or the title for the 100 plus hours I was putting in and the bullshit I would shovel each day.
Into work I go. Daily morning meeting. Then I am asked to stay behind by the GM and the owner. My heart is racing which tells me…they know I am bailing. YUP. They told me I didn’t have to stay until the end of the month, I would be paid out on all my deals (SA-WEET!), my vacation, and this month (last months deals) pay. FAN- FREAKING-TASTIC! Vacation! Until I got home.
I had a suspicion. So I took a pregnancy test. And another. And yet another, until I had eight urine sticks waving in front of me like an orchestra. Pretty much I was pregnant. I freaked. I called my mom again. I called DH. Hey dude….I got let go today AND I’m pregnant AND we are moving in two weeks.
So after being settled in Arizona, buying the house, in May we get a huge oops! Yes. BIG. OOPS. May 2004 mind you. I am pregnant again, totally spontaneous, not planned. Only this time I am mad. In total denial. Hubs is excited. Sure. Of course you would! You don’t have to be pregnant, fat, have heart burn, hemorrhoids, indigestion, swelling, random farts, sure. Peachy Freaking Keen! We get into to see the doctor right away. I am finally getting used to the pregnant idea. I have told people…bitterly, but with a smile. I am bitter because I JUST had a BABY! YEESH! So the ultrasound day comes, early mind you because I am high risk. Nanner nanner. Sorry. So really, high risk so they do an ultrasound to be safe. Would you believe it.
I about died. Reanimated myself, slapped the hubs, told the doctor he was lying and seriously changed my shorts. NO. No way! Oh yes, and they are identical. Why? How can you tell? By the sac. They are monoamniotic twins which means that they are (were) sharing the same placental sac. Not good. But the doc says the ultrasound seems funny, so he wants to see me in another four weeks. Pleasure.
Four weeks later we are in the office. Ultrasound again. The doctor is taking all sorts of pictures, not saying much. We sit in silence, with an eight month old. The twins are not growing, they are failing, no heartbeat. Crushed. Just when I got used to the idea of having twins, and being pregnant for that matter, the low blow. I am devastated. Not again. Not another loss. We leave in silence. Only after the doctor reassured us that I will miscarry on my own within the week. Here is my medication. But had the twins gone full term we would have experienced twin-to-twin transfusion, possible heart failure, major health complications. We accepted the blessing in disguise. Nonetheless any easier.
Neither was going into full blown labor, in your home, in the middle of the night and not being in the hospital. I wish for no woman to experience the horror and pain at 17 weeks the miscarriage of a child, or two.I know you wonder why I didn’t wake my husband, to support. I tell you ladies, there are things in life that we spare the ones we love the experience and overall trauma. I know he is strong, but not like this, this is unlike anything any man or woman who has children would want to go through or even have a support team to share with. This is a loner job. One that sickens me, but I know everything happens for a reason.
After that I am done with children. Grant wasn’t named Grant for no reason, he is our gift, our blessing. We moved on. Or so I thought.
I was a hot mama! I was looking good, lost all my baby weight and was looking hot. We take a trip to Reno Nevada for our dear friends second wedding. Yes they had two. They are goobers. He has his wedding which was called the Vow-B-Que, they exchanged vows, were legally married, Ta-Dah! She got the white wedding in January of 2007 when we flew out again. During this time DH is nostalgic, we are missing Grant since he was with grandparents, and the day we fly out, we find our friends are pregnant, right before they leave for their honeymoon! But the night before in an alcohol induced state, the hubs says to me “Let’s have another baby.”
Yeah…he baited me.
Months pass, we hear The Police are doing a reunion tour. SO. THERE. And we were. On the floor of USAirways Center in Downtown Phoenix. We have a sitter. A Hotel within walking distance. DATE night at its finest. We partied up the night, totally nostalgic in The Police concert on June 18, 2007. We then head back to call it a night…if you know what I mean. Wouldn’t you know just a few weeks later. I am pregnant. AGAIN!
Now the chapters have closed. The third and final twin pregnancy was a success!
Because on February 15th 2008 @ 36 weeks and 4 days I delivered Seth and Sara.
My journey for motherhood began seven years and three months ago. I had no intention of becoming a mother. NONE. My mother told me for MANY years that I would reap every hell I had sown to her. I would reap because of my own children that “One day, your kids will do the exact same thing you have done to me!!” And so I vowed to never have children. I vowed to never get married.Eating all of those words will probably explain why I am on a diet!
I met my husband in the spring of 1997 in Albuquerque. Of all places, a bar. I know, such a bad cliche. He was married in the process of a divorce. I, was a hot young thing with no intention of settling, he was looking for fun and so was I. Needless to say we have been having fun together since then! We married in the fall of 2000.
Shortly before we were married we discussed children. I still did not really want children. I did not feel I was mother material. I was very set in my ways, a control freak by all means, perfectionist on every level, I was jaded, harsh, young, and could not be bothered. I worked long hours as a finance manager in the car business. That lifestyle was no place for children, my father was living proof, as was I since I was third generation “car guy.” As we talked more and discussed our future life, goals, and dreams, I began to crumble under my inherent calling of womanhood and the “clock.” So we agreed on children, well I did. I demanded no more than two, and of course if we could get it done in one shot with twins I would be more than satisfied.
Like I truly had any control over my conception of a child, you can tell I was a TRUE control freak back then. You can also tell I have had LOTS of therapy since then! HA
In June of 2000 I went off the pill. For a few reasons, one which was to lose the 15 pounds I had gained on the pill so that I could get into my perfect wedding dress. Right now I would kill to look like that again….but that in itself is another post. The other reason I went off the pill was to begin our unprotected sex journey to conception.
The journey took TWO LONG years before I even got pregnant.
One March Sunday I awoke and just had “that feeling”, the one where you KNOW to take a pregnancy test, where you know your heart will jump out of your chest in complete disbelief? I called my boss and told him I would be late to work that day…..I was pregnant!! DH was already at work that morning, he worked the first shift at Home Depot. I being the sentimental little miss I was ran over to Wal-Mart, picked up an “I Love Daddy” bib and took that to him at work. I arrived and walked to the millwork desk where I found him loading doors into an overhead display. He seemed worried as to why I was stopping by to see him on my way to work. My eyes began to well and I handed him the bib. He pulled the bib out of the bag and looked at it in disbelief……just as I did with the stick I just peed on not 45 minutes earlier….and he asked what this meant. I asked him what did he think it meant? We went around and around for a minute and then I told him I was pregnant. We just stared at each other for a minute and then hugged like there was no end. Our movie moment was over and then we both had to get to work.
I was beaming! I beamed for about a week, maybe two. I hadn’t even had a chance to have my first doctors appointment to confirm via ultrasound that I was pregnant. Complications set in…..fast!!
While at WORK, work of all places. Nothing but men, jaded, alcoholic, mean, self centered asshole men. I began to show signs of a miscarriage. I ran out of work, grateful my boss was a good, kind hearted man! I went to the ER with DH where they said that I was having a “threatened” miscarriage and that all appeared fine, but to take things easy. Another week passed, and again while at work, signs, signs that I had no idea about with cramping, spotting, I was a train wreck! I was sick, nauseous, not nauseous, not sick, I was a pregnantly confused young woman. My body was telling me yes and no to pregnancy. I waited until I was out of work and things seemed fine. I knew then it was stress from work. So I called in sick to take things easy on a Saturday. This was UNHEARD OF in the car business. I took the day easy watching TV, not worrying. Until that night and I knew we had to go to the ER. Something was terribly wrong. DH and I sat in the ER for over 10 hours. Grueling tests, pokes, prods, no drugs, ultrasounds, more tests, LOTS of waiting. My HCG was off the charts, so they said I was definitely pregnant, maybe a little farther along than I had calculated. But the bad news came at just before dawn. Just before dawn on Easter Sunday. We were miscarrying. We looked at each other in silence, in love. Our first loss as a couple. We had never experienced the grief and loss we experienced that day. I called my mother…..and I called into work for Monday. We were in mourning. To add injury to insult, we were also told I had LARGE ovarian cysts. WHAT?!!
And so we sat…..waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for the “miscarriage” to happen. I was writhing in pain for DAYS. Emotional and physical. I had returned to work on Tuesday only go go home. I was in the worst pain, somewhat spotty. I called my doctor only to get the run around THREE different times by the nurse who answered when I finally put my foot down and was my normal bitch self. I told her I was in pain. I told her I had NOT lost the baby yet, not enough substance. I TOLD HER I FELT LIKE MY LEGS WERE BURNING!!! I went to the doctors where they did an ultrasound. OH SHIT, is what the tech told us.
GREAT! WTF is that suppose to mean?
The doctor came in, told us to rush to the hospital for surgery I had an ectopic pregnancy and I was bleeding out. If I did not go into surgery that day I would surely bleed to death.
After all was said and done I had found I was pregnant with twins. Fraternal quite obviously, one in the womb which was my “blighted ovum” as they called it and the second became entombed in my right fallopian tube which is nonexistent to this day. Thanks to a ruptured appendix four years prior that left scar tissue which choked off the path to the uterus. I researched from then on all about pregnancy after an ectopic……the results were dim at best. 37% success rate.
I was looking forward to struggling to get pregnant once again. However, I endured great pain in order to conceive. You see I never did fertility. Crossed my mind, but never did. I knew I was fertile, but standing on my head and raising my pelvis were not assisting in the dates of DH’s sperm and my ripe eggs. I had to be tested before I attempted to conceive again, the doctors had to test whether or not my left tube was open for business. There I lay…on a cold, sterile, flat bed with my “Frieda” exposed to some random lab guy who was inserting an instrument into my vagina and met my cervix. He explained how a “balloon” at the end of this tube would inflate to open my cervix and a dye would enter to check the tube. GREAT, sounds easy. Nope. I begged for more rectal exams before enduring that test again. But the results were life changing. We had an open tube that was ready for traffic. That was July of 2002…..by December, when we thought we would NEVER get pregnant, we conceived. I know the date. Christmas Eve. Such a beautiful night.
Yet in the time that we found the results and conceived we put our house in Albuquerque up for sale, started job hunting and decided Arizona was the place to move. My family lives here (there) and so we thought, that would be perfect. Still close to family.
In January of 2003 I scheduled a trip to Arizona to interview with car dealerships, at least three, and a few mortgage companies. I met with almost all of them but settled with the dealership since I would be making the most money. (Wrong! Thats a whole story in itself) I returned home and went to work the following day. My general manager and the owner of the dealership I was working for found I was job hunting, they knew I was going to give notice. They let me go with my vacation pay and the pay for the rest of the month! So I was well on my way to moving. I got home that day and knew….just knew in my gut to take a pregnancy test, I was only like a day late if that.
I called DH at work….told him the great news about being let go early. He was shocked. I told him about all the money being paid out. He was relieved. I told him I was pregnant!
But we moved anyway and I had an ultrasound and this baby was a keeper. My Big G!
On September 14, 2003 at 2:22pm weighing in at 8 pounds 2 ounces and 19.25 inches long, DH and I welcomed Grant Thomas Herring to the world. Big G!
I couldn’t believe I did it! I made it through 10 months, 8 hours of labor, 45 minutes of hard pushing, and I did it! I was a mom. But I never felt it. Something was there, but not there. I have pictures where you can see I adored the boy (and still do), just gazing at him. Yet, something felt missing. I went back to work at 7 weeks and he went to daycare. I was crushed. I cried a week straight dropping him off, but that slowly eased.
DH and I met troubled waters after having Big G. We went from living in a house to an apartment when we moved to Arizona, so cramming all your house furniture into a tiny apartment with two dogs was not ideal. Plus we began to grow apart. We finally bought a house though in February of 2004. We still live in the same house we bought, the house is home. DH and I started to come back to center with each other, things were mending, I was struggling personally. I felt something was wrong with me. And then we had another blow. In May of 2004 we found we were pregnant………AGAIN! I was furious. I was just barely done being pregnant. DH was excited, I was pissed. He was crushed. After some time and just before our first appointment (since I am high risk I had to go in right away) I finally accepted and was happy to be pregnant. Then the doctor did an ultrasound. He took forever. I wanted to know what was going on. And then I heard the words…………………..
You have TWO in there………..You see?!
Then I wanted to lose my mind. I couldn’t believe it. But we had another quick jab. I was asked how far along I was…..because the yolks did not look big enough. So we rescheduled to come back in a few weeks to check. Those were the longest.weeks.ever! The following ultrasound was killing me. I lay in wait for weeks to tell people we were pregnant, I told some, I need positive affirmations. The power of positive did not yield. The twins were mono-amniotic (sharing the same sac, quite possibly identical twins) and they were not growing. No heartbeat. No babies. No healthy babies even if the pregnancy took and went to term. I was warned of Twin to Twin Transfusion, heart problems, a whole spectrum of medical mumbo jumbo that I immediately heard “wah wah, wah wah wah wah.” We were devastated again. To add more injury I was sent home with a script to help ease along the miscarriage.
TWO THUMBS UP!
Within a few days of that appointment I was fired, over the phone, by my boss at the time. So that was great. I had lots to contend with. Luckily one of my old bosses (at a different employers) offered me to come back and I worked for them for a year and when I was pregnant with Big G, so I was happy to oblige. They were also very sympathetic of what I was having to endure…..as the process was not moving along. But then it did….and I never wish the experience upon any woman in my life. I awoke to labor pains at 16 weeks gestation. Awful. I could not wake DH. I would not. So for hours I suffered alone until the ordeal was done. I writhed, cried, hid, felt shameful, prayed for mercy. And then I suffered more as I began my awful bout with depression which lasted me some time and then the nasty medication that completely ruined me.
I had a breakdown in 2006. I nearly lost my mind. I almost had myself committed. I detoxed off of the worst anti-depressants known to man. I searched, I fought, I lost, I won, and then I was saved by a wonderful woman. She told me how to deal with myself. That feeling was OK. All that I had learned was wrong, and I have been every sort of medication (except the occasional motrin for headaches, etc) free since March of 2006.
In 2007, DH and I went to our friends wedding in Reno. We. Had. A. BLAST! Big G free weekend to enjoy ourselves. And we did. And we got loaded on many occassions. And DH told me he wanted another baby. And so after celebrating a wedding and in the nostalgia we worked towards another baby.
June 2007 came upon us fast. This was the year The Police were on their reunion tour. GET. OUT. OF. TOWN. We got tickets. On the floor. We rocked out to The Police that year. And that night, nostalgic from the concert, we conceived. June 18th 2007.
July rolls around and we were planning the 4th. Somehow DH and I got into an argument. I ran to the store to get smokes (I was smoking at the time) and a pregnancy test. I know, great combo! Like a salad and a double cheeseburger.
I get home from cooling off, take the test. DH and I are still battling. We were on the brink of the BIG D coming to our lips when I return to the bathroom. I was in tears. Still. From the fight. From the results. I stood there as we were half assed deciding our fate when I whipped out the pee stick. His jaw dropped. We laughed. We mended our stupid fight. We started going back to counseling.
The pregnancy seemed to be your regular run of the mill, feel like crap, look like crap, eat like crap. But I felt like something was going wrong again! I know right…a running theme. I go to the Urgent care thinking I had a UTI or a bladder infection. The ass hat doctor tells me I have back pain. WTF?! Dude….I have pain….not back pain….the pain is near my back…..but not my back. We go to the ER. I couldn’t take it, granted the doctors appointment was in 2 days, but I had not eaten in those two days and could not keep anything down. I knew I was having a girl, but did not want to be so seriously ill. We went through tests again in the ER, but thankfully in a hospital that is knowledgeable unlike the ones in Albuquerque.
Tests, tests, lots of tests. Pain, pain, and lots of pain. I accepted their drugs. I needed their drugs, I felt like I was going to die. Now I can handle A LOT of pain. I went to 7 during my BACK LABOR with Big G before I crumbled for the epidural. The tests were run, and now I just wanted results and I wanted to go home. The doctor came in with the nurse, the time was just after midnight, approaching 1 am.
“Well folks, everything looks totally normal. So you have nothing to worry about.”
Me and DH “Whew so everything is A-Ok, the pregnancy is alright, I am alright?”
“Yeah nothing wrong with you………you just have two babies in there so that will cause a bit more discomfort.”
“Um two babies?” I asked in disbelief….brinking on the edge of tears. DH, “TWO BABIES!? OMG babe did you hear that?”
“Are you sure?” I asked again.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” the doctor said. We both shook our heads unable to speak a word.
“Yeah you are looking good, we saw two heartbeats in there, so can’t ever say you didn’t get good news in the ER.”
And we left still dragging our jaws on the ground. Slid into the car and screamed. Then we called everyone. We woke them up. We told them our shocking good news.
On February 15th 2008, at 36 weeks and 4 days by Casearean section I delivered Seth Michael at 4:53pm weighing 8 pounds 2 ounces 19.75 inches long and at 4:54pm I delivered Sara Noel weighing 6 pounds even and 19.25 inches long.
From them on my job as a mom has changed. I have been able to see and enjoy all the firsts. I was robbed with Big G because I had to go back to work. I was robbed based on my own selfishness of failing to accept I was a mom, I wanted my DINK lifestyle. I robbed my oldest of a healthy, well adjust mom the first few years of his life. But I feel like I am making that up to him. I am a 30 somethings mom now who has no desire to keep up with fashion….I mean I am lucky if I match at all some days. I have two more children that I am learning from everyday, watching grow like I should have with Big G. I should have just stopped to watch, what was my hurry?
I am better with compassion to my children, I am patient, kind, and I am always listening. I listen to the sound of the giggles. I listen to the cries, I know which ones are pain, hurt, hunger, tired, thirsty, or the ones that mean I just need a hug. I didn’t always know these things. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but felt obligated to do so. Now, I love it. I look back at how BORING my life was before kids. My house was always clean, I mean I vacuumed dog hair…big woop. Meals were boring, we sat and watched TV never speaking. Now, dinner is like a three ring circus with Big G and the twins, never a dull or lifeless dinner. I no longer go days or weeks without a hug from someone, as I get hugs all day everyday. I used to spend money on excess fashion, where now that is spent on school clothes, school shoes, and play clothes for my kids, now I spend on their fashion. I used to never worry about what time I went to bed, and now, I am lucky to stay up past 11pm.
Some women claim they were “born to be a mom,” I think we are all born to be a mom based on gender makeup. But moms are made. My kids made me the mom I am today. I love them more than words can say and I never regret, wish, or ask for anything different with them or in for myself in my life. Each and everyday I try to stop a little longer to cherish, love, and memorize them just as they are in that moment, on that day, because they grow so fast.