Waiting In Sunshine

Champagne Problems

First of all, I just have to put out there how much I hate seeing pictures of me pregnant. It makes me sad, so very very sad. So why would I be looking at them, you ask? Well, a fellow IF vet and now mother of (DE/DS) twins is doing a documentary on what it’s like to experience infertility, and somehow we found each other and I was interviewed. She asked if she could use some of the pictures of me pregnant with DIJ in the film, so I sent her the Kodak gallery link where I have all of them stored. I had scanned in all of my ultrasounds so those pictures are on there, as well as the weekly pics of me holding up what week I was, a few cute ones of DH and I registering at Buy Buy Baby, and a few random ones of us just being US, but I have this beautiful gorgeous perfectly round belly. While I was living it I never thought I had that big of a “pregnancy” belly, the one that you could tell was baby and not fat from across the room. And now looking back at those pictures it almost took my breath away at just how perfect it was, and I was so paranoid about everything that I never appreciated it, or thought it was big/healthy enough. I wish I had just sent her the pictures link and never looked at the pictures, it was awful. As in, bad dreams awful. I just can’t believe how much I still mourn DIJ, how much I mourn the loss of a pregnancy and how much I mourn the loss of ever giving birth. And this is almost two years after we lost him, and the birth of my gorgeous, healthy twins. Well, sadness is sadness, and mourning is mourning. If someone loses a spouse and then gets remarried a few years later, I’m sure that person still gets terribly sad when thinking of their deceased husband or wife, even though they are currently happy.

And now to completely switch things on you- here is my current Champagne problem. People in the stores/out on the street/in the mall- listen up! I DO NOT want to stop and talk to every single damn one of you! At first I would make eye contact with everyone walking down the aisle, almost inviting a conversation and proudly show off the twins, but now I just want to get in, get my Dove soap, my laundry detergent and my box of tampons and then get the hell out before one of them wakes up or starts crying. I found a pair of matching onesies that said “Yes, We Are Twins.” I almost bought them last night, but now I’m thinking of going to CafePress and making my own that say: “1. Yes, we are twins 2. No, we are not identical. 3. No, twins do not run in our family.”

It’s very sweet and nice and all, but while I am online at CVS holding three tampon boxes in my left hand, the stroller with my right hand, and keeping a pacifier in place with one of my knees, do I reaaaaaaally look like the type of person interested in engaging conversation right about now?

See, it’s a Champagne problem!

And, since I am on the Whiner Boat today, here’s another complaint- there is a woman in my twin playgroup who I happen to actually like very much. But somehow every time we meet she is able to find a way to fit in the fact that she has no help, she is the only one around to take care of her aging parents, and her older daughter is starting school next year and she’s worried about a whole new schedule. Yep, I agree that these are all problems, but I just CAN’T feel sorry for someone who has a 5 year old daughter, and then got pregnant with boy/girl twins at the age of freaking 42 on her second round of Clomid! I know it’s not fair to constantly turn everything into a “who had it worst in IF” battle, but right now I am still there mentally sometimes. I’d also hate to have no help with 7 month old twins and a 5 year old, but….I’m sure she’d also hate to have gone through 11 rounds of IVF for no reason. Anyway, this really isn’t making sense, but I know you Vets out there get it. There are a couple of times when I have to bite my tongue at playgroup, usually when the moms talk about how they got pregnant, how their twin pregnancies went, and what kind of birth they had. But when someone gets a fact wrong I always speak up. They all know my story and have read it on IVFC so they know where I’m coming from….

Anyway, the twin’s are just getting more and more fun every day. They laugh and “talk” all the time now, and they are doing some serious teething. They both sleep through the night and we started fruits a few days ago. I’m having a lot of fun planning DH’s first Father’s Day with lots of surprises and homemade gifts. I even did a little photoshoot of the twins (I’m an amateur photographer) in some special outfits that mean something to DH. I’m also still working on some other things. What are you guys doing, if anything?

How God Awful It All Was

Being here back at my childhood home has brought back lots of weird memories and sensations from the past five years. It's like I can remember each time I was down visiting while we were in the thick of things, hoping that the next time I came to visit something would have changed. It was always so hard to visit my sister and my nephew, and my dad and I having long talks in the car rides up and down to visit her. And, of course, the big monkey in the room is that this is where I lost DIJ. It was in my parent's guest bedroom that I laid there for an hour searching for his heartbeat on the doppler, and then we eventually went to the emergency room at the hospital I was born in just to make sure all was ok. We all know how that story ended. My brother had been sleeping over that night and my sister and I went in there to wake him up after we got home from the hospital at about 3AM. We shook his feet, said his name and said "wake up, wake up, we need you, we need you." He sat up in the bed and my sister just flat out said, "Sunshine lost the baby. Get up." Obviously he was super confused but then he rallied and was an incredible support for me during the next six hours or so I was still here before getting on a plane to fly back up to New York with my dead baby in my womb. You'd think I wouldn't remember the flight, getting off the plane, meeting DH and his mother at the airport, and then the drive directly to my OB's, but I do. It's a weird memory to look back on.

And now, having been out of the game for five months exactly today, I look back and it's still so fucking weird. I'll get these weird mini flashbacks of being on the phone with a clinic, pushing for an earlier start date, or today I had one when I cornered the donor egg coordinator at Cornell once I decided to go that route. I was sweet talking her, being as nice, friendly and peppy as could be so she would like ME the BEST and hopefully push the process along. She spent a good amount of time with me even though I didn't have an appointment, which made me feel like I accomplished something for that one day, which put me in a better and more hopeful mood for the rest of the day. The only thing I can compare it to is like before I got married and I had a crush on someone, and if I got an email or a phonecall from him I was SO happy the rest of the day, at least for that day or whatever. It was the same thing with IF, if I made contact with a clinic/testing/agency that day, then I felt like something got done and I was maybe one more mini step closer to the goal. But it only lasted for a day or so. And then I had to start all over again once the high wore off. Who can live like this? What type of life is it?

On the topic of looking back, when I think back to when the twin's were born it's amazing how much my feelings, emotions and thoughts have drastically changed from when I first met them. I mean, I had no clue who they were, or come to think of it, what to even do with them!! I loved them, but now it's a ridiculous type of love. Just now my dad was holding Princess so I could go take a shower, and I had to literally pull myself away from her. I just keep leaning over and kissing her little rosy chipmunk cheeks, I just couldn't get over how adorable she was. And, I STILL can not get over that these are my biological children. STILL. I am so, so grateful for this gift, every single day. Don't take that the wrong way- I don't mean that I wouldn't have been grateful if we had a child via DE, DS or adoption. I just mean that I had accepted the fact that I would never have a bio child. It took a year to get to that point, but once I did, I did. And then to do such a turn around from a donor egg/donor sperm/surrogate cycle to what we actually have...talk about a mind fuck. So, every single time someone says to me that Peanut has DH's eyes and Princess has my lips, I just offer up a little prayer of thanks to tell the universe how grateful I am, and that I appreciate every single moment with these two. (One time, even, in the midst of a meltdown, I was holding a screaming, taunt baby and looking straight down into his open mouth and appreciated the fact that his mouth and gums were formed normally, that all looked great, that everything was in working order!) But yeah, when I look back to those first six weeks before I truly began to bond, it's quite an odd feeling. Even when I look at pictures, I have no idea who those babies are.

So, now to discuss my previous post. I want to thank all of you who reached out via comments and emails. It seems like the over riding theme is to stay, and something that every single person wrote was how I keep it real and tell the truth. I'm assuming that most bloggers don't do that, or if they do, they sugar coat it a little bit. I could never do that- what's the point of blogging and trying to help others in the same situation? So, I am happy that you guys all appreciate that and I really don't want to change my M.O. So, the deal is that I'll keep blogging as long as I am true to myself, but if/when I start feeling pressure for expressing my opinions, then I'll stop. Please don't take this as an ultimatom or whatever, I was just getting sick of feeling bad about myself.

So now I want to get back to my delicious babies. I am the LUCKIEST woman in the world that these two chose me to be their mom!

The Future (of many things)

The Future (of many things.)

Ok, I am at a crossroads. Lately, I have been delaying uploading posts because frankly, I fear the wrath of your comments. I dread getting the email alerting me that someone posted, or seeing an email in the address I use for the blog. Sure, some of have been understanding, but many have not. I understand, know and appreciate that your comments and concerns are out of love and caring for me, but sometimes it's ok not to agree with me and you don't have to let me know.

So, I don't know how to do bullet points yet on this computer so I'll have to number them. I want to talk about the future of this blog and the future of my involvement in IF and Celiac awareness.

Part One: I have been doing a boatload of IF/Celiac stuff that I have not mentioned on here, for the simple fact that there is so much and I wanted to be more concrete when I talked about it. Now I realize I should have talked about it much earlier so you could have gotten a better sampling of me mentally, and how I'm really not this bitter angry IF vet (although, if I was, I'm damned allowed to be.) When I get involved in something, I get INvolved. Take for example all my YouTube videos (which at this point have more hits than there are seats in the University of Michigan's football stadium, according to DH. So that's a lotta hits!) Or, me putting together groups of local IFers so we could all support each other. Or, going to Washington, DC two times to lobby for health benefits. Or, being active on websites and trying to help as many people. Or, creating the three Facebook albums showing the typical day in an IFer, or going through a surrogacy, which I have sent to as many people as possible who hopefully forward on. Or, my story on ivfconnections to hopefully help another couple experiencing what we did. Or, this blog.

Ok, you get it. So, the same thing goes with Celiac awareness. I've been working my butt off doing the following:
1. The American Fertility Association found me via this blog and on their own have been wanting to also somehow get the word out about IF and Celiac. So, I've been speaking to one of their directors and we have decided to partner up. The AFA creates educational videos and worksheets on a variety of IF topics which are posted on their website, and our goal is to create a Celiac one that we can post but also forward to as many RE's and GI doctors in the country (the world!) So, I have been contacting specific RE's asking if they will be interviewed for this video, and I contacted an old friend who works in video editing to see if he can help out for free (he will.) However, it still costs between $6 and $8,000 to produce a video (also dependent on where the doctors are located), which means we need to fundraise for this money.

2. I have a background in fundraising for non-profit institutions so I happen to be especially suited for this task. I've been researching the myriad of Celiac organizations in this country and making lists of people and contacts so when I am ready to go for the "ask" everything is all set. I also want to get these organizations on board with what we are doing in general, to help again spread the word about the relationship between these two diseases.

3. "My Story" on IVFC had been forwarded so many times that it eventually made its way to a woman who's daughter went through IF. She was so touched by our story that she decided to make a donation in honor of my children's names to the charity of my choice. Of course, at first I thought about RESOLVE, but then it got me thinking....

4. ....why can't I create my OWN small organization? Again, I'm not quite sure what I am thinking about yet, so I've simply been calling it The Infertlity/Celiac Consortium. I want to use this as my homebase for all the ideas I hope to achieve one day. I spoke to the woman who would like to donate in our names and it turns out she happens to be an extremely philanthropic person and really liked my energy and ideas. So, there may be a partnership there.

5. Dr. Oz and The View: I can't remember if I mentioned this here yet, but the producers at the Dr. Oz show were taken with my story and are interested in having me on as a guest. Additionally, one of my aunt's best friends is a famous news anchor here in New York and he happened to be interviewing Oz a few weeks ago for a segment, so I wrote up a quick summary and he personally handed it to Dr. Oz himself. Fingers crossed. I have also contacted The View (because it was Elisabeth Hasselbeck talking about Celiac on his show), and someone actually forwarded the producer's personal email to me so I can contact him directly. Again, the more people/the wider the audience, the better we can get this message out.

6. Whenever I see an opportunity to get this story told, I jump at it. For example, the moms of multiples group I belong to here in New York has a monthly newsletter and the president asked me if I could write the opening article. So, I wrote up a semi-short summary of what happened, preached my gospel about friends and family members demanding a Celiac panel if they have unexplained IF and/or unexplained repeat miscarriages, and I also spoke a bit about what the club means to me and how I find great support in it.

7. A longterm goal is to present at the ASRM's annual conference one year, hoping to reach as many RE's as possible at once. However, you need to have a case study in order to do this. A few years ago there actually was funding to study the effects of Celiac on infertility, but unfortunately the money ran out. Big names were attached too- Harvard, Cornell, etc. There is a Swiss pharmaceutical company that developed a much more efficient blood test for CD and the AFA was working with them on this study, but no luck. Perhaps we can try and revive that, as we must get a study in order to present at ASRM.

8. But even with no study, there is still a lot of awareness and education we can do from many angles- from contacting all the Celiac societies, to contacting GI's and of course infertility centers.

So, yeah, I've been busy. And at this point I'm not doing as much as I would like obviously because the twins are awake much more and I don't have any help, so I can't get on the computer except at night. My 15 year old neighbor is very interested in becoming a mother's helper so I'm considering hiring her a few hours a week so I can get stuff done around the house as well as make small, baby step dents in this massive adventure I have dedicated myself to. I can't live with myself knowing there could be even one couple out there going through needless treatment after treatment after treatment.

Part Two:
1. This is my blog. Not yours. Hence, my life and experiences through my lens.
2. I'm allowed to be angry if I want. The same way I am allowed to be happy, or sad, or depressed, or ecstatic, or whatever emotion if that's how I feel at that specific moment, in response to whatever situation is currently being presented to me.
3. There is nothing wrong with being angry. Nothing. I just emerged from fighting a five year, needless war. Healing ain't gonna happen over night. If anger helps spur me to do any of the above mentioned points in Part One, then great. I promise that I am not pacing around my house in a bathrobe trying to figure out how to enact revenge on the RE's of the world.
4. If you had a good experience/found success at one clinic, then great. How is me talking about MY experience on MY blog somehow denying the fact that you had a good experience at the same place? What can I say except that if you want to read about someone having a more positive experience at a clinic, go read her blog and not mine. My words here aren't life changing for anyone; it's just how I see it through my eyes.
5. Stop telling me how I "should" act and how I "should" feel. We all know there certainly aren't rules when it comes to how you "should" feel in life, and everything is uncharted territory, so you telling me all these "shoulds" does absolutely nothing for me except make me feel like a) crap or b) guilty for something or the other. So, no thanks.

So, what does The Future hold for Sunshine? Dunno. I may switch this blog over to only discuss my IF/Celiac Consortium and use it as a way to keep track of progress. Or, maybe I will completely self edit myself and only talk about puppy dogs and rainbows and not reality, with a running list of how much the twin's weigh and how many times they pooped last week. That's sad, because I've had a lot of women reach out to me, thanking me for keeping it so real about what life as a mother is like after 5+ years in the trenches. I've never covered anything up from my readers, but after getting some pretty harsh comments and emails basically telling me what a lousy mother I was, or that I wasn't doing enough of this or too much of that, or why am I feeling/acting/doing X, Y, Z, well I'm done with it.

I'll see how this goes. I am away visiting my family for a week or so and if I get just one more negative email while I am here, and it makes me sad for even one minute during my few precious days with my far away family, then show's over and the circus will have to find a new town. I don't mean to come across as harsh, narcissistic or egotistical, but this has been bothering me for months now and I finally had to say something, and I truly hope I didn't just alienate those readers who happily log on to read the misadventures of me trying to figure it all out, one day at a time...

Love,
Sunshine

Transversary Day! (And, I hate Cornell.)

 

(Sorry about the odd format for this post- I have a ticket into Typepad to fix it!)

One year ago today three embryos were transferred into Kelly and two became Princess and Peanut!

omg, they are so freaking delicious now. I have to literally stop myself from giving them too many lovebites. They both love to be bounced, especially to a rhythm, and they throw their heads back and give me this gianormous grin and sometimes even giggle. It is pure joy, the type only a baby could experience. All they know at that moment is the thrill of being bounced up and down and having the person in front of them make silly noises and faces. Why can't we always stay like this?

So, it makes me sick to even type these words, but I have to call C-C-C-ornell. I can't afford the $1,000 a year storage fee for the three embryos from the DIJ cycle. DH wanted to get rid of them forever ago, I just *literally* haven't been able to pick up the phone and dial that number. I can't tell you the fear and sickness I feel when I think about the voice message that comes on at first. I can't even stand to hear that woman's voice. I don't EVER want to hear "Thank you for calling the blah blah blah Center for Infertility/ Or Whatever Center for Reproductive Medicine." 

I decided I just had to do it. I grew some balls and typed the letter "C" in my cell phone and guess how many Cornell telephone numbers came up as stored in my phone? NINE. I had the main number, then Span.dorfer's number, my nurse's direct number, the donor egg team, my donor egg coordinator, the second donor egg line, the billing department, the lady in charge of co-culture, and finally some random coordinator who I think did a bunch of stuff. I am so so disgusted. Not to mention the plethora of all the other doctors and coordinators and nurses from the four other clincics I went to whose information is still taking up precious digitialspace on my phone.

I have been wanting to purge my phone of all things ART for a loooong ass time. But for some reason I can't. What the hell am I waiting for? Dunno. Maybe I'll need it one day and I already have all these direct numbers which puts me at an advantage. I can "skip the line," so to speak.

But uggghh SO annoying.

Anyway, so I dialed Cornell and I just fucking hate it. I swear, they even have an awful ring. The lady who picks up tells me I need to speak to whoever about discarding my embryos and she puts me on hold to transfer me. I have this clear image of the huge office and my call being flown from one side to the other. I can see every single detail so clearly. The colors of the office, where all the doors are, the three hallways of u/s rooms. PUKE.

Of course the lady wasn't there so I left a voicemail. Of course she hasn't called me back yet.

Here's the thing- I said I would donate them back to Cornell for research on the caveat that the doctors start understanding the connection between Celiac and IF, and I demand that two new questions be put on their new patient form: 1) Do you have a history of unexplained stomach issues? 2) Does anyone in your family have a history of unexplained stomach issues? At least it can get the conversation started; a patient can say that why, yes, she does have stomach issues- why are you asking this? And then a good doctor should reply, "Well, Celiac could be....." If someone had asked me that one simple question...

I don't know why all my anger is directed towards Cornell and not the other clinics. I guess because it's supposed to be "the best." I can't help feeling that they FUCKED ME OVER. THEY MISSED MY DIAGNOSIS. I was put through HELL for NO FUCKING REASON. And I want them to pay for it. Things need to fucking change around here.

I can't stress it enough- THEY MISSED MY DIAGNOSIS. Are you kidding me? Are you serious? FIVE years of unnecessary medical treatments? That sounds like malpractice to me....yeah yeah those are strong words and I'm sure it's not true, but damn that's how we all feel.

I'm in an angry place again (can you tell?) It was triggered by just simply thinking of them. I realize now that this is one of the reasons why I postponed contactingthem, even at the cost of $250 every quarter. I knew it would bring up all these emotions again. And, it did.

So, to make myself feel better, I started writing the letter I have been meaning to send to all of them for some time. It outlines everything I did at Cornell and then what happened, and I phrased it as an educational letter to draw awareness and make sure they are aware of this for future patients. I felt better after I wrote the first draft.  I am sending it directly to Roszen.waks, and I am cc'ing all the other RE's as well as the entire Board of Trustees. Yep, I want my message heard.

Anyway, I am leaving tomorrow to visit my family and my mom and sister FINALLY get to meet the twins. I'll probably be down there for about ten days or so, and I'll check in after! Here is an adorable picture of the twins! 

PS- For those of you who have crossed over, did you ever purge your cell phone? If so, how long after your DC arrived?

PPS: I tried to donate the embyros to the University of Michigan's new stem cell lab and I was all excited. However, right now the law says they can not accept embryos that were created from a donor egg or sperm. Sucks! I'd MUCH rather give them to a research lab then Cornell who probably has too many to even handle. Contact me if you are interested in getting UM's information.

PPPS: Edited To Add: OK, I'm trying to get to the root of why I am so angry at Cornell and not the others as much. I think I'm not as angry at RMA, my first clinic, because it was my first clinic and they aren't as "good" as Cornell. Secondly, I sent a very detailed email once Kelly was halfway through the pregnancy to Dr. Span.dorfer with a detailed outline of everything that happened, and that it was imperative he know this information and share it with the group. I assumed I would get an email back from him, at the very least a "congrats, that's great news," as I used to receive emails from him when I was a patient there. But...chirp chirp chirp, no response. And I wasn't in the right place mentally to pursue this while Kelly was still pregnant and I was scared shitless all the time. Third, as I mentioned above, they are supposed to be THE.BEST. I'm sorry, if you have the balls to charge what you charge for a fecking ultrasound, let alone an entire IVF cycle, you better either put up or shut up. I expected more, I still do. We go to these top clinics with our hearts on our sleeves and we TRUST them with our lives, our futures, our finances. I feel betrayed by them. As mixed up as that may sound to some of you, it's how I feel right now. Fourth, I don't blame SIRM because I feel like they understood, they "got it." We had numerous conversations with many doctors and nurses, they all listened carefully and took my story to heart. I know I enacted change at that clinic, by the very nature of what kind of clinic they are, their "personality," which is much more open and caring. It's the opposite of Cornell where you often feel like just one of many cows in a diary farm. I don't know, it's hard to explain, but it's just different- they are snobby at Cornell, it's hard to get in touch with anyone, they have all these rules and regulations, they know they have a waiting list up the gazoo and perhaps they don't care if you go elsewhere for treatment, so that gave me a cold heart when I look back on my five year IF career. So I think that's why my anger and emotions are geared more towards NY's Upper East Side then anywhere else in the country....

 

Happy One Year Conception Day, Twins!

 

One year ago today was my egg retrivial in Texas. I can't remember how many eggs they got, but I remember feeling ok about it. We went home the next day and I got the fertilization phone call while we were boarding the plane. Again, I remember being happy but not ecstatic. Which makes it all the nuttier that TWO were normal and stuck around....It's so crazy to think it's been a freaking YEAR.

So, in honor of their one year conception anniversary, we tried rice cereal for the first time today! Amazingly it went perfect. Both of them "got" the idea of the spoon and didn't try to thrust it out. I have some ridiculously cute pictures of them eating, but I just switched over to a Mac and I have no clue how to use Iphoto yet.

They have become so much more fun, they love to "chat" and make these cute talking noises. We get smiles all the time and we love it! The amount of cuteness in this house is just over the top between the twins and our doggie.

So, I know this is such a lame post and I actually still have some deep thoughts about being a parent after IF, but its getting harder and harder to write the posts, as much as I want to! They are awake much more during the day, which leaves less time for anything else, including computer time. I have this whole Celiac/Infertility Consortium I want to begin and the American Fertility Association has partnered with me on it, but it's just impossible to do any sort of work if I don't have a babysitter in the house with me (I haven't had a sitter yet). I have lots to talk about this topic but I'll leave it for another post because I actually want your advice on some things. Oh, and I had a wonderful, special first Mother's Day. So many people made it a point to come up to me or email/call me for Mother's Day since they knew what a big deal it was for us. Mother's Day also fell on our 7th wedding anniversary, which made it even MORE awesome!

Anyway, I'm going to try and leave you with a picture! I promise, more soon!

 

If you live in New York State!! READ AND ACT!

Help us pass an IVF bill!

 

We need your emails TODAY! I started writing a regular blog post but then found out about this. Here is the information:

 

This week Senator Gillibrand will be introducing the very essential "The Family Act," which will provide a tax credit for infertility treatment. We would like Senator Schumer to join her as an original co-sponsor. If this issue is important to you or a loved one, I urge you to email Senator Schumer to support The Family Act. Please email at meghan_taira@schumer.senate.gov. We need to get this moving and thank you!

 

Emails need to be in TODAY! All you have to say is something to the effect that" infertility patients need access to affordable health care and this legislation will help make treatment more affordable. I urge you to support Senator Gillibrand in The Family Act providing a tax credit for IVF treatment." And put "The Family Act" in the subject line.

 

 

 

Here is what I wrote (but you don’t have to write as much as I did)

 

Dear Senator Schumer,

My name is Sunshine and my husband and I underwent five years of infertility treatments, including six intrauterine inseminations and a whopping 11 In-Vitro Fertilization cycles. I was only 30 years old when we started this journey, and we were diagnosed with "unexplained infertility," as the doctors could find nothing wrong. We just kept pushing forward, always hoping the next one would be the one. I got pregnant four times and lost all four babies, one devastating one at 20 weeks which was the result of my 8th IVF attempt.

 

My health insurance covered medications which was amazing and we are incredibly grateful. However, each IVF cycle cost us about $13,000. That's money that could have been put toward a house, or a college education one day, or goods and services in New York businesses. Why are these treatments not covered by health insurance? We didn't ask for this disease, just as someone with diabetes didn't ask for that disease. If a man's sperm is misshapen or a woman's uterus has a septum, this is a medical issue and should be treated as such. Also, if health insurance will cover the termination of a pregnancy, or birth control to prevent a pregnancy, why does it not turn it around and cover the conception of a pregnancy if assistance is needed?

 

Because insurance does not cover IVF, couples are forced with awful decisions- namely, to transfer back more embryos than they should because they simply can not afford another cycle. This often results in multiple pregnancies, which actually costs the health insurance companies more through high risk doctors, additional OB appointments, NICU stays, physical and occupational therapy, and strains on the educational system if students need state services. This does not make financial sense.

 

 I urge you to support Senator Gillibrand in The Family Act providing a tax credit for IVF treatment. You will be changing our lives. 

 

Help us build our families, Senator!

 

Sincerely,

Sunshine

 

I effing hate doctor’s appointments….and I hate listening to birth stories and how people got pregnant, too.

So, I had to go back to the boob doctor for my six month check-up after the cyst/lump was removed. I didn’t even think twice about it; it was purely an errand to cross off my list and something I had to find a babysitter for. Thankfully, the office is very un-doctor like and comfortable, and it was fine. The mamo was fine, no problem. But, then I had to have a boob ultrasound. (Can you guess what is coming next?)

I walked into the ultrasound room and BOOOOOM. I felt like I was in a movie when a person has amnesia and then sees something he recognizes and the director does some interesting camera work, showing a past memory in a foggy lens or something. I may have been back at Cornell, walking into one of the horrid rooms as I am unzipping my pants. It was H-O-R-R-I-B-L-E, and completely unexpected.

So, then I laid down on the table and had nothing to do but think as she is doing the ultrasound. I became acutely aware of everything- the familiar humming of the machine, the all too familiar dings and chimes the machine makes as a picture is taken, the sound of the round ball she moved to get measurements (ugh, effing *measurements!!*). I hated the dimmed lights. I hated seeing the GE boxes stored on top of the cabinets. I hated hated hated everything.

And it wasn’t just the flashbacks from the double digit IVF’s. It was flashbacks of pregnancy ultrasounds. And we all know how I feel about that. It was just….horrible. I think this pretty much is a definition of experiencing an episode of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I hate when these things crop on me. Thankfully they are much less now (I could barely get out of the house after I lost DIJ where every little thing reminded me of either IF, an IVF cycle or my pregnancies.)

So, I just had to share. Has something similar happened to any of you? What was the situation or circumstance?

The other thing I wanted to talk about was my twin playgroup, which I LOVE. I think the women are fantastic and down to earth. We’re all just making it up as we go along, trying to do our best, and none of us are helicopter, crazy moms. But, invariably when you get a bunch of new moms together you know the same old subjects will come up, namely 1) how did you get pregnant with twins; 2) how was your pregnancy and 3) how was your birth.  Ummmm….crickets chirping over here…

Luckily (is that the right word?), ivfconnections recently published “My Story” in their stories section, so I simply send them the link and they read my whole saga, it makes it a ton easier on me and they also “get it.” But it’s hard for me to be around this sometimes. It doesn’t help that the other four women got pregnant either naturally with twins or (at the most) three rounds of Clomid, and that’s including one woman who is 39 years old. Plus, all but myself and one other have an older child. An effing older child!! Obviously there are a lot of women who are IF in my local Moms Of Multiples club, and I’ve only briefly spoken to a few at the new mom’s tea where I gathered information for another local playgroup. (You can always tell another IFer after I say I did 11 IVFs- it’s all in their reaction and what they say in response.) Yesterday at the playgroup the 37 year old (who got pregnant naturally with twins) was talking about how she had two miscarriages, both at ten weeks. Another of the moms asked how she found out, so the woman started talking a little about it (how she was sobbing in her car, etc.) I got up to get some more food and started humming to myself to try and pretend I was in another space. But it got too much for me so I politely interrupted and said, “I’m sorry, but can we……it’s still too hard to talk/hear about miscarriages for me…”  They immediately got it and we switched topics. But COME ON! I am SO SICK of this shit being in every part of my life! Yes, I absolutely don’t think about it nearly as much (I wouldn’t have the time now, even if I did feel like dwelling) but UGH. I feel like I need to find a playgroup where it’s only twins via IVFs. Who knows, maybe I will…

Anyway, here is the IVFC link to "My Story". I’ve been meaning to post the link here forever but I kept forgetting! Oh, and the president of the M.O.M’s club asked me to write the opening article for the May newsletter!

And of course, here is another picture. Today is their 4 month birthday! They are getting so alert and smiley and I want to eat them up!! Princess even giggles now and then, which is amazing.

http://www.ivfconnections.com/forums/content.php/760-Sunshines-Story-A-23-Year-Medical-Mystery-Finally-Solved

I Wish I Was Pregnant.

Well, my last post was all sunshine and rainbows, so it only serves us right that this next post is a tad bit darker. I don’t wish I was pregnant *right now,* but, I wish I was pregnant. I feel so absolutely deceived and betrayed that I did not get to experience what the majority of the world gets to. I have such deep bouts of sadness and depression every so often that I just have to sit and let it pass. It only lasts a minute or so, but it cuts so sharp and so deep across my entire being.

My pregnancy was dramatically, severely and traumatically ripped from my body, literally. I never got to experience the joy of feeling a baby’s little flutters on a regular basis (I only felt him twice, and for like a mini –second at that.) There are so many “I never’s……” And, I feel so awkward writing this when I have my two amazing and beautiful children sitting next to me as I type this. I can’t even imagine what some of you will think of me after reading this.

But, having said all that, deciding to use Kelly was THE BEST decision of my entire life. She gave me my children!!!! Was I jealous? Well, that’s a weird question. Part of me was, but part of me was so insane about “get me to the finish line, get me to the finish line!” that I really didn’t have the mental energy to sit and really think about that aspect of it. I was just so incredibly GRATEFUL to have met her and have her in my life and have her do this ridiculously amazing thing for me, that I don’t think I really got caught up in my own selfish feelings about pregnancy.

Yet it still creeps up on me.

And- here is some news: My younger sister is 15 weeks pregnant. She was supposed to do IVF for baby #1 (he is three years old) for MF and she is literally that legend you hear about through the grapevine: She was waiting to get AF to start her BCPs and it never came, so she went to the RE for a P4 check to see where she was in her cycle and opps- pregnant! Then, she went back to the RE  last year to see if anything had changed with her or her DH and actually his MF was worse. So, they were gearing up for IVF/ICSI and would you know it  - pregnant again. I know of a LOT of stories through my five years in the trenches, and I’ve never heard of this before. So, her first pregnancy I didn’t talk to her for nine months. It was horrible, and my family felt horrible and everyone was in this horrible, awkward position. But this time, I jumped for joy! I want my twins to have another cousin, and I always wanted my nephew to have another sibling. I talk to her all the time about the pregnancy, I ship her morning sickness pops, all this stuff I couldn’t have dared to do before. I’m ecstatic, elated. And surprisingly, not that jealous. Sure, I get pangs, but I guess because I “get” something out of this pregnancy it doesn’t hurt as much? Whereas some random fertile walking down the street doesn’t do anything for me, she just gets to go and experience her pregnancy and then have a family at the end of 9 months.

In any case, I guess the point is that I am still mourning the loss of having a full pregnancy and giving birth. Having a third baby is on the table for us, but I might be too scared to carry. But I hope and pray that I’ll get over this one day. Well, let me rephrase that: I truly think I am scared for life about this topic, however I believe it will get less severe over time. And once the twin’s get a little older and parents aren’t talking about their pregnancies so much around me, I’ll also feel better.

Ok- off topic- here is another example of Mommy Twin Brain: I had just gotten out of the shower and walked over to the bathroom sink, when I promptly turned around to get back IN the shower, because in my head it make perfect sense that I needed to shower twice, as I do everything twice these days. Then I realized- oh, I’m just one person myself so I don’t need to do this two times! Oy vey, right?

Ok, so I leave you know with the most delicious picture of Princess all dolled up from their party!  I didn’t get as many good ones of Peanut because he was napping through most of it, but this is a cute one of him at the end getting a diaper change. Delish I tell you, DELISH!!!

 

I know, I know, I am a slacker. I won’t say that I’m exhausted, but I’m pretty tired. It should be better now that their party is over, but it’s still so much all of the time. The day after the party I literally slept all day long, just waking up to feed one twin during feeding hours. My whole family was up visiting and they were more than happy to watch the kids for the day. It had been my fourth night in a row of not sleeping, and I was so tapped out after the emotional party that I could barely stand in the shower.

So, Princess is giving me THE MOST ridiculously yummy smiles in the world. Sometimes she sticks her little tongue out when she smiles and I swear to god, I just melt and I want to squish her and give her love bites all over! She is totally pushing off with both feet at the same time if you hold her up right on your tummy or on the couch, and she holds her head up for quite awhile during tummy time. We went to the (new and a ton better) ped today and she weighs 11.8 pounds, holy cow!!! She has these little chubby polkies that I’m obsessed with when I change her diaper. It takes me forever to change their diapers because I keep kissing or nibbling them all over. He weighs 11.3 pounds but is an inch longer than her, and he doesn’t have that rolly polly chubby baby look, he’s more lean and muscular. I’ve read all over that girls are more mature than boys, and that’s clearly the case with the twins. In fact, the ped today said boys on average are a month behind girls, and if they both get sick at the same time, the boy will always be much sicker than the girl. He is only starting to smile and he’ll push off with both feet but not as hard as Princess. She also is doing mini coo-ing sounds, but not him so much. They both have been tracking objects perfectly for weeks. Basically, the ped said “they are beautiful, chunky babies so keep on doing what you’re doing!” yay! They eat between 5 and 6 ounces every four hours, and both sleep through the night. Every so often one will wake up around 4AM or so due to a wet diaper. My newest smartest thing is to actually change them in the crib to keep them as calm and quiet as possible. (Yes, I realize I’m probably not the first person to come up with this, but still!) The trick is to have a burp cloth nearby which you place under their tush in case they pee while you are changing them. Have the diaper and wipe literally right there, and do it as fast yet gently as possible. So far, it’s been great! Oh, and another thing I now do- I always keep two pacifiers in the crib in exactly the same spot. So I know exactly where they are in the middle of the night if I need one. Those things are super hard to find, I swear, they disappear!

Princess has also started teething, if you can believe. About a week ago she started sucking on her wrist or even my wrist if it was close to her mouth. So far she doesn’t seem to be in pain, but happily I received some nice teething toys as gifts at their party.

So, basically every single child at the twins “meet and greet” party were created from A.R.T. (except for my fertile cousins, of course.) One of my friends made a realization- a few years ago four of us went out to dinner on a freezing night in NYC, our own little support group. Fast forward to 2011 and all four of us have boy/girl twins, and three of us from a surrogate! What are the odds.

I’m still plugging away at getting on the Dr. Oz show, and in fact another opportunity just came across my path which I am exploring this week- I’ll keep you updated!!

Another one of my (newish) IF friends sent me an email that one of her friends is looking into DE and wanted my opinion on which agencies to consider and which to stay away from. I love getting inquiries and emails like this, I love that people still come to me for advice. I’m thrilled that whoever this friend is will be contacting a legitimate place with amazing donors (I swear, I should get a fee for all the business I’ve thrown to different agencies and clinics!)

 I think I’ve finally hit Mommy Brain. Three quick examples: I went to grab my Poland Springs bottle of water off the coffee table and it was just about at my mouth before I realized it looked funny- I had grabbed Peanut’s full bottle of formula instead and I didn’t even realize it. Later that week I went to pour myself a glass of iced tea, got out the glass, and started pouring. It wasn’t until seconds later that I realized I just poured the iced tea into my doggie’s food bowl. Opps…. Lastly, I went to grab my chapstick from my purse while stopped at a red light, and instead pulled out a pacifier. It took a few seconds for it to register why my “chapstick” wasn’t doing anything. Man, did I feel like a dope! But freaking hysterical!

I really really want to write “Sunshine’s Favorite Things” so I need to just sit down and write it. And, like I said, I want to hear yours because it’s a great way to share information.

I found this Time article over on another blog and I am posting it here. It discuess a study following thousands of women and how (surprise!) they can still be massively depressed over a miscarriage, even with a healthy new child. It always stays with you. Wish I could have read this article throughout all of these transformative feelings, it woud of helped!

And, here’s a ridiculously cute picture of the twins in their college gear while watching a game. Their personalities show through 100% in this picture- Princess is a happy, smiley giggly puff, and Peanut is my pensive professor, quietly taking the world in. 

Duuuuuuudes; calm yourselves.

I haven’t written a reply not because I am upset or freaking out, I just haven’t had the time (next weekend is the twin’s party and I’ve been busy planning it;  it’s a pretty large event, a big celebration of life.)

One: My children are not sitting in a crib, crying out in hunger and for a human touch. You guys made me out to be a monster of some sort. Trust me, I tried  giving Peanut a bottle at 2AM and he wouldn’t take it, he pushed it away like he does during the day when he is not hungry anymore. And then he went to sleep. As of right now, Princess literally doesn’t make a peep between putting her down after the 10PM feeding and the 6AM feeding, and in fact doesn’t start getting up until around 6:30. Then I go in and she looks up at me and gives me a big ol’ early morning smile.  Peanut fusses somewhere between 1:45 and 3AM, and I go in there, pick him up, rock him, put the constellation turtle back on, change him if he has a wet diaper, etc. Then guess what – he goes to sleep until waking up for the 6AM feeding.

Two: I sing to my children all.day.long. I dance with them around the house all.day.long. I constantly make up silly little rhyming songs and do little jigs with them. We get on the floor and pat the puppy, or look in the baby mirror together, or read a book when they are both sitting next to each other in their bouncys and I can show them the pictures at the same time.

Three: Lots of early motherhood is monotonous. It’s boring. Sorry, it’s the truth, and anyone who tells you differently is showing off. Good- go get the mother of the year award. Anyone who ENJOYS getting up every hour of the night, constantly filling bottles, spending a full seven hours a day feeding and burping a kid is a better person than me, apparently. It does not mean you don’t love your children, it just means what it means- it’s monotonous. That’s it, so don’t read into it, I tell it like it is. That’s one of the problems with words and not speaking, you can’t hear inflection in the voice. I did not call my “helpless newborn son”  (as one of you wrote) a pain in the ass the way you would your mother-in-law. That’s not the way it was meant, it’s the way I write/speak.

Four: As a fellow twin mom wrote to me a few weeks ago: “The dirty secret of motherhood is that while BABIES are frigging adorable, baby CARE is so not. It is just drudgery, 24/7. It is hard, boring and mostly thankless work. Any mom who tells you she loves it all is either lying or delusional. But that is different from loving the babies. Of course you love them. You'd die for them. It is a weird kind of love when they are so small though.” That’s all I’m saying’.

 Five: My babies are fat, happy and semi-bald. They are hitting their milestones as if they were full term babies, which I hear is often unusual for preemies. They are growing like weeks, so obviously we are doing something right.

Six: This is my blog. I’m allowed to complain.

Now; back to our regularly scheduled blogging.

 

Sorry for the delay, bloggies!!

So sorry for the delay! This post is going to be a bit scattered because I have had so many thoughts rummaging around my brain.

 First of all- tv. Watching tv or a movie is a completely different experience for me than what it was. I can’t handle any story lines where a child get hurts, or you see a parent crying or upset. Before it was just another ho hum plot line, but now it gets me. I was on the treadmill at the gym late one night and CSI was on, and a mother found her adult daughter’s body in a house and she just started screaming, “That’s my daughter! That’s my baby!” My eyes welled up with tears and I had to change the channel, I got too emotional. I can’t even imagine…

Speaking of tears – will I ever stop crying over DIJ? I guess I thought the pain would subside once I had a child, but it hasn’t. Of course, it’s better, but it is still vividly there. I just can’t get this one photograph of me out my head. It’s a profile picture of me and my gorgeous belly and I’m holding a sign that says “19 Weeks!” We all know I never made it to the 20 week photograph….Yes, I have two healthy children and I know I hit the lottery, but I wish I could see him, hold him, tell him I love him. I also mourn the absence of pregnancy, and not experiencing that all the way through. It was taken from me SO violently, and  I don’t think I will ever be able to resolve this. I was on the couch holding Princess after just feeding her and it came on so strong and fast, I started sobbing. I just pressed her to my body as hard as I could, and I didn’t care of my tears got on her face, it couldn’t hurt her. And then I felt guilt, guilt that I shouldn’t be sobbing into my daughter’s face over the loss of her big brother because I AM so damn lucky. Why is everything so fucking complicated?

On a completely different note, we are holding a little “meet and greet” party for the twins next month and someone told me about this cute baby boutique near me. I decided to check it out after the gym one day when I had a babysitter, and I swear to god, I looked forward to this ALL week. I couldn’t wait to go! I walked in and I was giddy, l couldn’t stop looking at everything, touching everything. I’ve only bought one item of clothing for them so far because I was too scared during the pregnancy and then I got bins of hand-me-downs, but it felt so damn amazing to be in that store and KNOW I could buy something, IF I wanted to, because I finally had children at home. It was an out of body experience- I kept saying to myself, what the hell am *I* doing here, Sunshine the infertile? So weird.

And then walking out to the car I put my hand in my coat pocket and felt something I didn’t recognize. I pulled it out and it was a pacifier. A pacifier!! Again, what the hell is a pacifier doing in MY coat pocket? When did I become a person who has those types of things in her pockets and purse? I’ll admit, I got a little thrill and was smiling all the way back to the car. It felt great.

 I hardly see DH these days. He’ll come home from work around 8:30PM and I’m all ready in my gym clothes and literally walk out the door as soon as he puts his briefcase down. I love going at night now, it’s not so crazy at the gym, I never have to wait for the machines or weights, and I take my sweet ass time. But I will admit that it’s odd hardly seeing and speaking to your husband, and most of the conversations we do have are about the kids, and do this, do that, whatever. However, the weather is starting to turn nice and we’ve been out on some walks with the twins and had some normal, pre-kid conversations.

 Finally- another way my life has changed: I can finally look at my wedding pictures again!! I hid them the past few years going through IF, it got me terribly depressed. I hated seeing that happy, thin, in good shape person because I was the opposite of that- overweight, flabby, severely depressed. I hated seeing that old Sunshine who was so naive and had no flipping clue what was about to hit her and ruin her life. It made me sick. So, I hid them. DH got upset when I did that, as I think it really showed how deep my depression ran. Now, of course, I want to blow them up to wall size and post them all over the place! I have this wonderful picture of us eating our wedding cake right after we cut it- man, that should be the cover of the book I need to write. The caption would be something like: “Here’s the happy bride and groom on their wedding day, unknowingly contributing to the future hell and torture this happy couple would soon experience.”

I’ve been getting out of the house, meeting other moms, it’s been great! I love my local Mom’s of Multiples group, and I joined two separate play date groups that I see every week. It’s like a circus with all the car seats and babies, it’s so great.

 I was thinking that for m y next post I’ll create a list of all my favorite baby items, as my friend Mic over at Fertility Crossroads did that after she had her daughter and I kept that post for future use. I’ll start working on it! I didn’t think I’d have much to say because I’m pretty laid back and actually don’t even have a lot of baby gear (no diaper bag yet, even!).  You wouldn’t even know there are two infants in our house when you walk in because we keep it very clean and clear of baby crap. It will get worse later when they start crawling and need exersaucers or whatever. But as I was starting my list for you I realized there was a good amount, and I wish someone had told me all of this before they were born.

 Quick baby update: All went well at their 2.5 month checkup. They are both over 10lbs now, which means they have already doubled their birth weight! As of two nights ago Princess has been sleeping through the night and she gives these riDICulous smiles where she’ll just sit there and keep going. I call them “Smiling Sessions” and I’ve caught two on video! Peanut’s acid is much better and takes the bottle smoother. He’s only been giving hints of smiles so far, though. They both purse their lips as if they are about to start cooing, but no noises yet (and she does it way more than he does.) I As for me- the fatigue is finally starting to hit. I suppose I’m lucky that it took 3 months to start feeling tired! But, happily, this coincides with them possibly sleeping through the night. Although of course it’s not a real sleep, as Peanut fusses and I have to console him, etc etc etc…

 

Dear "Fertility Professional,"

Dear “Fertility Professional,”

Hello. Nice to see you here. I always assumed you read my blog. Now, I have concrete knowledge that you, or a friend of yours, reads it. I hope you have enjoyed reading about my pain, tragedy, and ultimate resolution.

I have just one question for you, as you already know how we (the collective “we”) feel about what you have done.

 

What if this happened to your daughter?

What if your daughter altruistically decided to donate her eggs, went through an IVF cycle, and then did not  receive her compensation, or received her comp much later than what is appropriate? Would you be upset for her?

Or, what if your daughter decided to be a gestational carrier, and spent a year of her life going through tests, a transfer, a pregnancy and finally a birth? And then your daughter did not receive her surrogate compensation for a full five months after she gave birth?

Or, conversely, what if your daughter has suffered immensely trying to start a family, and you are right there along with her, holding her hand, sobbing with her, being there for her? And then someone in another state has $9,000 of her hard earned money, and for an unexplained reason was not refunding money that is rightfully her's and her husband’s?  And then months later you find out that this situation happened to many other couples out there, not just your daughter and son-in-law; that there is a pattern of behavior going back a number of years, even corroborated by medical and other professionals?  And finally, all of this happened to your daughter while she is greiving the very death of her son, her first child; your first grandson...would you simply stand by and allow this behavior?

And what if you had strong reasons to believe this same person was using your daughter's last name, as well as her three initials/email address to post positive reviews of said business in online forums? Would you be disturbed, concerned, and want to do something about it?

Would you write about this person or business in your blog; talk about it at length during your podcasts? Would you call them out for hurting your daughter, causing emotional damage and stress that was completely unnecessary? Given the nature of your gossip blog, I have to wonder….

I am someone’s daughter, sister, best friend, wife….I am not just a checkbook.

How would you feel if this happened to your daughter or loved one?

I am going to end this now. You have sucked the life out of me, I have spent countless hours trying to resolve this issue, and I see that you have hypnotized your local area into believing you are a certain person. I'm glad you see that I achieved my dream in spite of what you did, but my goodness, how many dreams were deferred or denied because of these actions? It's amazing what one woman can do to another..... You do what you wish; you are the one who must live with yourself, not me. I wish you luck in finding your peace….

 

The Surrogate Parenting Center of Texas

So, lots of thoughts this past week. I was thinking of actually writing two blog posts but then everything got jumbled in my head.

First- let me scream it: THE SURROGATE PARENTING CENTER OF TEXAS, founded and directed by MERRITT TURNER PATTERSON of Dallas, Texas; specifically the Park Cities People. This was the egg donor “agency” that screwed us over two summers ago. You remember right? Here’s the story again if you forgot:

I lost DIJ in March, which wrecked us. That pregnancy was from IVF #8, donor egg at Cornell. We had no clue what was wrong with either of us since every test came back perfect, so we decided to swap something out to see if it worked. Our first Cornell egg donor backed out a few weeks before because she wanted time to visit her sister in California. Ok. So then we had to wait some more for a second donor, and at that point we honestly didn’t even glance at her profile. Is she proven? Great, let’s go. It worked the first time with the egg donor until 20 weeks when DIJ slowly passed away in my womb. (Now we know it’s because of the Celiac disease, as I wasn’t getting nourished myself, so how could I grow a fetus?)

Once we lost DIJ, we were completely at a loss as to our next steps. We were so wrecked that we decided to take both of us out of the picture and use proven donor egg, proven donor sperm and a surrogate. We also explored adoption and met with three separate adoption agencies, assuming we’d go on all burners at once.

We were matched with the awesome Kelly in Dallas, and I flew down there for her first appointment at SIRM. We were talking to the nurse and she said a great egg donor had just come through, provided a whopping five CGH normal blasts, and she wanted to donate again in two months. I said- can I get her? I don’t even care what she looks like! The nurse said she goes through an agency called The Surrogate Parenting Center of Texas, however SIRM usually did not like working with SPCT, as often the donors were unreliable, were late to appointments, didn’t do the meds correctly, etc. I will never forget sitting there hearing the nurse say this- it raised a little of a red flag but I thought it’s not a problem, she just donated, knows the drill and the nurse mentioned that this donor was actually very responsible and unlike the others.

So, I called SPCT immediately and said can I please have donor #123. Merritt said, sure, of course, I just need $9,000 right away- $5,500 for the donor comp, and the remainder for the agency fee. I also remember thinking it was weird to pay so much for the agency fee, as she really wasn’t doing much for me. I came to her with the donor I wanted!! This whole time I thought I was simply speaking to a Merritt Patterson, egg donor coordinator, as that was what her email said. At no point did she ever let on that she was the owner, as well as the only employee.

She told me I had to pay in two separate installments, which again I thought was odd. Also, I did not receive a receipt for one of the payments, and when I tried to get her on the phone to ask for it, it became difficult- always to voicemail. I tried her again while sitting in my car and she finally picked up. She sounded very confused, and kept saying to herself why so and so would have printed it out like that, and not sent me a recipient. I remember asking to speak to whoever this person was, but she said that she would take care of it. Again, I was under the impression that SPCT had multiple employees, including a finance person. That whole conversation was a farce, an act.

Soon we were all set- Kelly got her calendar for meds and I was told the donor was on birth control.  The evening before the donor was to come to SIRM for her first suppression ultrasound I received an email from Merritt. She said that the egg donor emailed her that she got into a small car accident, the doctor wanted her held overnight for observation, and the doctor said she must stop the birth control pill while in the hospital. Hmm, now color me an idiot, but aren’t we all told that if you skip just one pill you can lose the contraceptive ability of it? Have you ever heard of a doctor telling a woman to stop her contraceptive? Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous? But, of course, I believed Merritt, why wouldn’t I? Now I look back and can only imagine what she thought of me, and how DUMB I was to believe that. I still can’t believe I bought that story.

So, we waited and waited and the egg donor never got back in touch. Everything was cancelled.  Kelly had to stop her medications, and I had to pay her a cancelled cycle fee because she had already begun injectibles. I don’t remember now how much that was, but it was at least over $1,000. Add that to the tab.

Merritt says she is dedicated to finding me a new donor and starts sending me profiles. It’s obvious from the beginning that she’s sending us anything, as none of them really fit the profile we filled out. One was not proven, which was our #1 priority, one had had an STD in the past (really, Merritt?), things like that. All the profiles were sent via PDF and basically were snapshots that had been taped to a piece of paper that had been scanned in. It was so unprofessional, especially after coming from Cornell (and then afterwards, working with The Donor Solution which is also a tiny agency but seeing how she put together these wonderful profiles.) DH and I knew we had to get OUT. We emailed Merritt and said we’d like to leave the agency, but she kept dragging us on and on, saying she’ll find us an egg donor. (A few years later a man reached out to me after reading my story one of the IF forums I wrote on, and it turns out Merritt was sending both of us the same profiles at the same time.)

The letter to terminate our contract went out, and thus began a cat and mouse game to try and get our money back. I just went back and re-read all the emails back and forth (or rather, her lack of reply and if she did reply, only one or two evasive sentences and never answering our questions), and I was going to copy and paste them here for you. But I am so utterly disgusted that I don’t even have the stomach to do it. We got the “check is in the mail” run around, Merritt said she mailed the check to DH’s office, she could never provide a FedEx tracking number, etc. Another example of where she must have thought we were idiots- have any of you fellow IFers EVER used your work address for something as personal as IF? Sure, I had meds delivered at my office a few times, but never would I have correspondence, especially from an egg donor agency, sent to my husband’s place of work! Is she for real??

It took the threat of legal action to finally pin down a FedEx number, and four months after we terminated our contract we received a check for the donor comp, but not the agency fee. We feel this is not correct, as we fulfilled our part of the contract, where she did not. Additionally, I spoke to other, more reputable agencies and when asked what happens when a couple needs to terminate a contract do to a loss of a donor, the agency returns the fee minus about $400 in admin costs. I felt this was reasonable and fare, but my requests were replied to by her ignoring me. I kept begging to speak with someone in the finance department to straighten this all out, and I felt it was odd that she never mentioned and took notice of my request. I didn’t understand why the egg donor coordinator was trying to deal with billing issues, and of course now I know she was a one-woman show.

Throughout the years, other SPCT victims have contacted me. One went to her “office” and found a closed and locked place, and when he asked the business next door they replied they rarely see anyone go in there.  Eventually, there were a bunch of us who found each other online, including egg donors who went  through an IVF cycle and donate, but never got compensated. Which, in my opinion, basically means that Merritt stole the IP’s money. Who knows what she was doing with all this money. She most likely gave us the run around because she had spent our money instead of putting it in an escrow account like you are legally obligated to do. I should mention that Merritt lives in an extremely wealthy part of Dallas, she lives in a gated community, kids go to private school, she lives a very specific lifestyle. And here’s the kicker- running SPCT was NOT her main job! She is a gossip columnist/blogger/podcaster for the local newspaper/rag mag, the Park Cities People. She is ruthless, calling people out, snapping pics on her cell phone of people jay walking, things like that. She definitely created a persona, the whole while living a lie. I listened to one of her podcasts once and she paused for a moment and said, “oh excuse, I just want to check this email!” I was disgusted- what if that email was one of my tons of emails to her, asking where my egg donor or my money was? She was supposed to be working for ME, what the hell is she doing la-de-dahing talking about  the differences between the two new coffee shops in the Park Cities? What the hell was my agency fee for??

A group of us got together and went to the media. A few newspapers were interested in our story, but the local ABC news affiliate decided to run a full five minute segment during sweeps week. DH and I were interviewed for it while in Dallas after the twins were born.  Of course, the Park Cities paper defended Merritt and their response to the segment is ridiculous. The writer wanted to interview me but I was advised not to for various reasons. Now all of us wish we had, as it was extremely one sided.

One heartbreaking story is of a couple who can no longer go forward with their family building, as Merritt stole the last of the money they had to use for IF. Is that not disgusting?

So, I’m not sure how writing all of this will really help anyone, but I still wanted to write it. Man, I could go on and on, but I’ll stop.

 

Holy Shit, I'm a Mom!

 
Thankfully, not only are things still on track with my feelings towards the twins, but it continues to grow each and every day. It’s NUTS. I look at one and I can’t believe that it’s mine.  I can’t get over how damn cute and adorable he/she is, I just want to eat them up. Sometimes I even wish they would start crying so I have a reason to go over, pick them up, and start snorggling wit them.  And then I’ll look at the other one and think how beautiful and adorable that one is, but for completely different reasons. They have such different personalities, and look so different to me.

So, the baby nurse left last Monday and surprisingly, I was ok the last few hours she was here. But then I started crying as I was saying goodbye, and then I flipped out for about 10 minutes once she left and I was all alone. I didn’t know what to do first! But after that mini-freakout I was 100% fine. It was just no big deal. Everything seemed normal and calm, and I didn’t feel out of control or that I couldn’t handle anything. Sooo weird and not like me, but that’s how I felt. My whole family was also weirded out that I’ve been so calm, cool and collected. I wonder why I’m this way, because it certainly is not how I thought I would be. Maybe it’s the patience and strength I learned about myself over the past horrendous five years? Who knows, all that matters is that I feel capable and confident.

The nights with the twins have been fine. The 2AM and 6AM feedings don’t really bother me (again, I’m surprised by that!). I’ve been sleeping in the nursery with their bouncy chairs within arms length of the bed, so I can literally just open one eye to check on them throughout the night, soothe them, or just pick one up and plop them in the bed with me.  Saturday morning after the 6AM feeding, DH and I took both of them into our bed and cuddled for a few hours that way. Our dog was at the foot of the bed so all five of us were together. I wish someone was there to take a picture of it, it was pretty cool.

So, the baby Zantac has been a godsend for Peanut. Night and day- I swear, now he sucks down that bottle in 15 minutes flat. This is probably the biggest factor in to why the feedings aren’t so terrible anymore. Feedings can and do get super boring when you are doing so many each day. Basically, my day is broken into three hour increments and I have to get everything done in that limited time. The days have been flying because it’s broken up so concisely and I never feel like I have enough time.

 I really want to talk about the egg donor agency in Texas but I keep saying I want to make it a separate post! I still do- so I’ll do that this week. However, the ABC segment aired last Monday and the response has been incredible. (If you want the link to see the segment, shoot me an email.) Other victims have come forth and contacted the reporter, and many people are discussing this woman. The local paper where she works (yep, owning and operating her egg donor agency, as far as what I can tell, was her SIDE JOB) is going to issue a statement about her in five days. Lots to say, but it’s getting all jumbled in my head and when I think about this woman I feel like I need to spit because she is so disgusting, so I’ll leave it to all one future post!

One last thing- it was gorgeous here two days ago, Spring weather. My aunt and I decided to take the kids “on a walk,” which basically meant standing outside on our stoop. It was so incredible out that many people were out walking with their kids, and I met one of the four couples that have twins in my little two block area. It just made me so excited for all the fun things to come when the twins get a little older and the weather gets better. I can’t even begin to think what it will be like when they start responding to us, it must be incredible.

 

 

 

And The Chorus Sang....

Hallelujah! Hallelujh! Hall-laaaaay-you-ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Yep. It hit me. I’m in love. There is definitely more coming, because although I am a sucker for them both right now, I can see how your heart can get deeper and deeper. I remember that with DH, how you truly can fall deeper and deeper in love with someone. It’s not static, it truly is always changing. I even remember being surprised and telling him that I never thought this was how true love felt…I thought you fell in love and that was it. I didn’t realize how it could keep changing…So I’m recognizing that but now in terms of children and not a romantic love. 

I honestly didn’t think it would happen so soon. I was comforted by so many of you guys telling me that they really didn’t feel a strong connection to their children for a few months, even six months or longer. And I was cool with that because I knew it was coming.  And yes, in the one week since I wrote my last post this indeed did  happen, and I think perhaps actually writing it down helped sped the process up a bit . I can’t recall the exact moment because I don’t think there was one, it was just gradual, and as weird as it sounds, they actually physically almost look  different to me, like two new babies were swaped in. They look like MINE. I don’t mean physically, I mean spiritually, as in of course Peanut and Princess are my children, who else would be? All the little faces Peanut makes now are just for me, right? Of course, who else would they be? It wouldn’t make sense if they had other parents, and it feels perfect that they belong to US.

They are really starting to look , feel and sound like “real” babies. I took Peanut to the ped on Monday for his reflux issue, and he weighs a whopping 8.7 pounds. He weighed around six pounds when we got home from Texas! You can tell when you pick them up how much chunkier they look. This week they also started being more alert, looking around, looking right at you, hanging out and looking up. But if you say something close to their heads, especially Peanut, he’ll turn and look right at you, it’s so cool. They also make me laugh, and I know right now they only do about four different things, so I can only imagine how fun they get as they get older and can actually interact with you. I’m starting to pay more attention to their differences, and there is many. Peanut actually is pushing with his feet against anything that is front of him, and two times when I was burping him with him sitting sideways on my leg he pushed his feet against my other leg and his whole body went back, scaring the hell out of me. Of course I was holding him, but I certainly was nowhere near ready for the strength of that push, he’s only 7 weeks old! He also puts his hand on the bottle and today he literally pushed the bottle out of his mouth when the reflux started up again, and again, I couldn’t believe it because I had no idea a 7 week old had that much strength and dexterity. 

Princess is starting to get fussy and gassy, but her fussiness still isn’t as bad as Peanut’s. Luckily (knock wood), Peanut’s reflux seems to be happy with the changes we made, which are baby Zantac twice a day, Mylicon at each feeding, switching from the powder to the liquid formula and heating it up, and raising his crib mattress. We have a GI doctor on Thursday but they are both doing pretty week right now, so not sure if I am going to keep it. 

So, the baby nurse actually leaves in one day, not on Thursday as I thought. I can’t believe it. I mean, it’s fine of course, it’ll just be sucky not sleeping and being miserable. But like I said, they are just these two little muchkins that you want to bite all day long, so I think I’ll enjoy being stuck in the house all day, every day, at the beginning at least. 

So, I’m happy to report that I 100% feel a connection to them now. In fact, it’s hard to even remember what my problem was before this. (And I don’t want to go back and read old blog posts, I never do that as it’s usually too painful.) 

I could go on and on about the little nuances each of them do, and how different they are, but I’m on Twin Time and pretty tired. I promise that next week I’ll tell you about the scamming egg donor agency!  But in a nutshell, a bunch of us victims found each other online, got together, did a boatload of work (I can’t even tell you the amount of hours in my life I have spent dealing wit this awful woman), and ABC down in Dallas picked up our story and did an investigate report on it. After months of trying to get this done, it’s airing tomorrow!!! DH and I were interviewed for it, as well as other victims. It’s pretty cool, let’s just hope something good comes of it. 

Here is a picture of the twins in one of my most favorite outfits! My previous supervisor visits Paris a lot and picked these two French outfits for them!

 

I’m sorry this post is so late. I’ve been trying to figure out what to write. Not that I don’t have plenty to write, that’s certainly never been a problem for me. It’s more an issue of how to put it into words at this point.

 But first off, we saw the surgeon for Peanut and thankfully his issue is just a teeny one and will not require a catheter. It will still require a minor surgery around 7months old, but not nearly as invasive as we were told in the NICU. It was weird (and frankly, annoying) as hell to be back in a medical environment. One of the things I hated about the NICU was the fact I am so sick of medicine and medical places. Yes, I am grateful for everything, and I feel terrible even typing these words out when there are people out there who have terrible illnesses and must go back and forth to hospitals, so whom am I to complain? But I am so over it. We went to a children’s hospital and everything was painted in all these cheerful colors and had a nice, soothing images on the wall. I never understood why only children’s sections got the nice, soothing colors? Even when I worked as an EMT, the emergency room had a little separate area for kids, just steps away from the adult area, and the kids area was so much nicer, couldn’t they have just continued the look a tiiiiiiiny bit  farther?? But whatever.

It’s just so weird- I never minded going to the doctor by myself for important things, but with him I wanted DH there, in case I missed something. This is more important than me. And the doctor was so quick that I felt I missed something, and after hearing for a month that he has to have this surgery, and then all of a sudden he doesn’t, I was like – wha? I had to have him repeat everything two times because I was so confused and I wanted him to see me confused and concerned.

 Part of me felt like an actor. As in, well this is how the part of “concerned mother” should play. I’ll say I still don’t feel like a mother- mother, again not to compare myself, but I don’t see myself the way I see other women on Facebook or bloggers do, holding their babies right after they are born, etc. Where is MY moment?

The one and only thing that has helped me mentally is YOU. All of YOU. I am so so not kidding when I write this, but if you hadn't reached out to me, I would be one helluva hot mess right now. The emails, Facebook messages and especially the blog comments have been a fricking lifeline to me. Just knowing that this has happened to so many of you out there is a HUGE relief and truly alleviates a lot of my guilt and concern over all this. And of course those vets that have reached out to me can share their perspective, which helps tremendously. What can I say but a huge THANK YOU and give you a virtual hug. You have no idea how much you have helped, how I have recalled your words over and over in my head when I am down on myself.

On a more positive note, there have been flashes here and there of improvement! Now and then I’ll feel this “surge” when I look at one of them, not quite sure how to describe it. It’s very brief, but maybe it’s what that pure love thing that everyone talks about feels like?

 Another example is when they are awake, alert and looking around. They are starting to do that more often and they look more like people, and I must say, it’s incredibly cute seeing these little mini-people just chilling in these bouncy chairs in these ridiculous outfits, just looking all over the room, taking it all in. You feel like they want to ask you questions, point things out, but they can’t, and it’s actually very cute. I sat in front of Peanut and showed him this small black and white board book and his eyes went right to it and roamed all over each page. We chilled like that for about 15 minutes, hanging out, looking at each other. It was actually very cool.  When they are like that you can catch glimpse of what they will be like when they become more baby-like and not so blob-like, and it’s nice. But –opps- there it is again, the whole wishing away time thing, and enter Guilt.  So, regardless, you apparently just can’t win.

 Sometimes I wonder if part of my disassociation with them right now is due to the fact that I didn’t carry them. I wonder if I had felt them move, had that bond, all that stuff, if I would feel closer to them, the three of us having shared a body so recently. But then again maybe that’s just an excuse I am telling myself?

I don’t want to scare anyone away who might be still TTC and reading this blog. Or, I also don’t want to scare/upset anyone who might use a carrier, either. But this is the truth, no way am I going to start making things seem better than they are. But I understand if you don’t want to read anymore because I can see how someone still in the trenches would view me as a royal pain- (shut your mouth Sunshine! I’d kill for your problems!)  I also don’t want to start sounding like a broken record. But hopefully, and if all you guys are right, things will start turning around, and all you bloggies will be along for the ride!

One last note- my amazing baby nurse leaves on the 17^th. Peanut is having terrible gas and reflux. Hearing a 6 week old cry in pain is awful, it’s a very different cry than a baby being hungry or tired. He pushes the bottle away because it hurts so much, but he is also so hungry, so he cries all these different types of cries while you try to feed him.  When he coughs there is a pause and then this immense wail of pain, and often milk comes through his nose and then another wail of pain. I’m taking him to the ped tomorrow to beg for a baby Zantac prescription, as all the tricks I know have not worked at all. I’ve tried Mylicon, Gas-X, gripe water, four different bottles, holding him upright for 30 minutes, raising his crib, putting rice cereal in the bottle to thicken the formula, and burping him every half ounce (which he needs anyway because he starts to scream by the time you get to that point.) Unfortunately, we can’t change formulas because he must stay on the premie formula for a few months. I’m telling you all this because  as much as you hate to see him in so much pain, it’s awful for the mom as well. Feeding time down right sucks ass. It’s horrible. You are making someone do something he just does not want to do, and you have to do it 6 times a day, and it takes an hour. But I’m not doing it- she is! So once she leaves and it’s all me, getting impatient and seeing how little we’ve progressed, forget it. I am going to go insane. I’m so worried about it, I’m seeing if I can somehow scrounge up some more funds to keep her longer…my theory is the longer she can stay, the shorter Peanut will have these issues with me as all babies do eventually grow out of it. I know that sounds terrible, and yes, this is what being a parent is all about, I know what I signed up for, but let me tell you- when I see him with the baby nurse who’s been working with twins for 25 years and can feed two at once in her sleep and can handle a reflux-y baby with the patience of a saint, I actually feel that he is in much better hands with her than me. I’d get too impatient and start pacing and she is awesome!

OH! Next week I have to update you! Do you guys remember that egg donor agency in Dallas that scammed us? The “egg donor” we had allegedly got into a car accident the night before she was to have her first suppression check? Well, let me tell you- the lady who owns and operates the “agency” is in deep shit and the best part is is that she knows it. I was just one of many, a bunch of us found each other online (I posted warnings on IF boards starting two years ago, and most of the recent victims found me that way.) Lots of research and reaching out to media outlets in Dallas, hours and hours of work. But, it paid off! Next week ABC in Dallas is running an investigate report on her, and actually DH and I were interviewed for it. I have SO MUCH to tell you, but I want it to be a separate post. I’ll leave you with this unbelievable fact though- Merritt (that’s the chick aka thief) had young women go through the testing, IVF cycle and donate their eggs….and she never compensated them. She stole the recipient’s money.  I don’t even have words. But stay tuned, I’ll write more once the show airs, as I don’t want her knowing details in case Merritt or one of her cronies happens to read this blog.

I’ll leave ya with some pictures:

And enter right on cue: Guilt.

 

Sigh.

 

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.

 

We all knew it was bound to happen, sooner than later and not later than sooner, right? 

I’ve read a million places that guilt is a wasted emotion, but that still doesn’t stop us from feeling it. I feel guilty on a number of fronts: 

A:  Guilty that I will look back on these first months of their lives where I wasn’t “blissed out” (yes, that is in fact a term a fellow IFer used on me recently regarding her recent foray into motherhood). 

B:  Guilty that I am subtly wishing them to be a little older so it will be a little easier to take care of them. 

C :Guilty that I just don’t feel like talking to anyone about them, the same way I didn’t really want to discuss the pregnancy. 

So- in more detail. Item A: Again, I sound like a broken record- but why am I not staring at these “miracles” with “stars in my eyes?” Why am I not that doting mother, sitting in a rocking chair, wearing a sheer nightgown, with the moonlight streaming through the window, gently caressing my child’s cheek? WHY? Instead, I spend most of the day staring at the clock, dreading seeing the countdown begin for the next feeding. And half the time I don’t even DO the feedings because the nurse is still here! Oh, and another big pang of guilt I get is every morning when I didn’t do the 2:30am and 6:30am feeds. Which, let’s be honest here, is never because the nurse is here and I figure I have hundreds in my future and let’s take advantage while I can. So, I feel like shit when I wake up. I felt like shit waking up for five years, and now I feel like shit for a different reason! 

B: I am so, so used to wishing away time. I want a month to quickly pass so I can get my period and start the next cycle, or I need my egg donor to get HER period so we can start synching up, or my carrier and I need to start synching up, or when I was pregnant I didn’t even want to exist, and of course everyone wishes away the time between ER and getting fert results, and then the 2WW. And finally, the last eight months all I did was count down every single hour and mark off each day with a big fat red “X.” It’s very hard to go from wishing your life away to just…not. But at the same time, there are even some fertiles who are at this stage with their children who don’t like it and look forward to the next stage, and don’t feel guilty. But I have the added craptastic layer of IF on top of it. I’m just so sick of wishing away time and not existing, and I don’t want to do it anymore, so when I found myself eagerly asking the pediatrician yesterday when can I drop their 2:30am feedings, I felt ridiculous and embarrassed. They are only one month old, for crying out loud! And here I am, already looking to the next stage where it will be better for ME, selfish me. 

C: My family has lived and died IF with me. They want to know everything, go over every detail, pore over every picture. I don’t. I don’t want to sit on the phone with my mom and ohh and ahh over all 50 pictures I just uploaded to Facebook. Why? When family and family friends email me polite and nice emails I just don’t have the umph in me to write back more than a generic response. It’s just like when Kelly was pregnant. I don’t want to talk about it! It’s so strange.

But, having said all that, there has been some positives. Every now and then I’ll get these rushes of yumminess when I look at them. Like- WOW- you are one damn cute thing, and you are MINE. Sometimes I’ll take one by themselves out of the nursery (just to get the hell out of the room! If someone were to ask me a new mom tip, I’d say change up your environment now and then, otherwise you’re going to go stir crazy being in the same room all the time. Although I guess it’s different with twins because I’m in there literally double the time.) Anyway, I’ll take one into the bedroom and stick them on my shoulder and read a book or surf the web or something, and they’ll fall asleep and it’s quite nice and warm.

They are getting cuter and more alert every single day, it’s amazing. Yesterday was the first NY pediatrician appointment and they both weigh 7.5 pounds already! Even though they were preemies, they both have hit their milestones thus far, and both early, so we are grateful for that. Since Princess was born breech she has to have an ultrasound on her hips to check for hip dysplasia, but the doc didn’t think she would have a problem after examining her. And Peanut needs to have minor surgery which will entail him having a catheter for a week. So, neither of these things is huge-huge, but I had a minor freakout in the car ride home. How am I going to manage everything, logistically? Who is going to watch Peanut while I take Princess to get her ultrasound? Where do I even find an ultrasound place around here? (All my u/s experiences have been a wee bit different!) I’d like to go with DH so there are two of us there getting the results. It’s funny, if it was me going to the doctor, I wouldn’t care. But if it’s one of them, all of a sudden I want that backup person to ensure we’ll get all our questions answered and will be ok. But more weighing on my brain is Peanut’s surgery, and first off, finding a surgeon. Then logistically, who goes to the hospital. Of course, I want to be there, but DH said he wants to, as well.  And then I worry I’m going to mess up the catheter and get it dirty and cause an infection! And then I realized I need to grow up, take a deep breath, this is what parenting is all about, and I am certainly not the first parent to have these fears. I’m intelligent, I can figure these things out. If I was able to coordinate and figure out 11 IVFs, including the amazing feat of an egg donor/sperm donor/surrogate cycle, I think I can probably handle these things, right? But here I am, spinning my wheels….spin, spin, spin. It all gets better, right? And look- this is me talking NOT sleep deprived yet. I am getting a full 8 hours of sleep, and will for the next two weeks. When she leaves, I will break down. If you want to see a train wreck, keep reading…

 

(PS: Does anyone know of any other blogs of new twin moms?)

So, I know I usually update on a Sunday, and today is Monday, but I don’t have anything to say. I feel horrible. How can I have nothing to day?

I am still nonchalant about this whole thing. I won’t say that I feel neutral about the twins because I definitely feel more positive than negative about them: I think they are adorable, I love picking them up, kissing them, giving them love bites. I love changing them for some reason. I think it’s fun picking their outfits out. Feeding them gets very monotonous because it takes a very long time- about 30 to 35 minutes per kid. But we upped them to four ounces each feeding so now we can go four hours between bottles instead of three, which gives us some more time in between. The best part about the feedings is burping them, when you sit them up right and brace their chin in your hand for support. Their little eyes bug out a bit when you slap their backs, and their little heads are just so freaking adorable. If they are fussy from gas this is the only time they are quiet for some reason, I guess the patting of the back is soothing to them. After the feeding it’s nice to put them on your shoulder and chill for a little, and I like to put my ear very close to their mouths and noses to hear them breathe and feel their little warm, quick breaths. I did that when we first got my puppy, and I actually still do it. It’s just this nice homey, yummy thing.  I must say, it’s nice to be able to do that with children now.

But yeah, the whole feeding thing is what it is. I’m sure I’m not the first mother to be bored by it.

I still get a thrill seeing all the baby stuff in my house. I love seeing their pictures. I love that I am planning a dual baby naming. I love that there is a book entitled “Your Baby’s First Year” on my night table. But sometimes I worry that I love all the “stuff” about babies but just not dealing with the actual babies.  Well, you guys know what I mean.

I’m so confused still.  I love them so much in MY way, but not in the way that everyone always talks about, and that makes me feel like shit.

 

Homecoming

We’re here! After two years of planning and thinking about flying from Dallas to New York with an infant (and then finding out eight months ago it would actually be two infants), it went surprisingly well and without even the slightest hitch! We had an 8AM flight, there was no line at security and people couldn’t be happier to help us. I must have heard these three sentences, in this order, over and over again as we moved through the airport: “OH! Look at that precious little baby! Oh, look it’s twins! OH! Look, it’s a boy and a girl!!!” And then people stand there with these silly grins on their faces as if we had anything to do with the fact that an XY chromosome sperm and an XX chromosome sperm were the ones that happened to fertilize chromosomally normal oocytes that were finally eeked out of my ovaries.

In any case, both of them just laid in our arms the entire ride. We gave them bottles on the way up but it was a fight, as they weren’t really interested and neither of them seemed to mind the ascent. Same with the descent, they just snoozed the entire way so we didn’t even bother with a bottle or a pacifier. They even slept through meeting Aunt Nancy (basically their third grandmother) and the entire car ride back to the house. Such good little guys!

Nancy of course started crying when she saw us coming through the airport. She’s been an integral part of all  this IF crap. About midway through IF Hell I stopped having DH come with me to surgeries, transfers, etc because I didn’t see the point, and instead I just had Nancy take me. When I got pregnant with DIJ I got the beta call at her house because I refused to be alone, you know- she was “that” person. (She also came with us to the D&E. Talk about full circle for that pregnancy.)  So it was pretty awesome having her and her husband pick us up. Not the most romantic spot having this whole emotional life scene at LaGuardia’s baggage claim area, but just chalk it up to another IF casualty.

The ride home was fine, I was fine, totally zen. DH’s mom had been staying at our house while we were away and just was so excited to finally meet the twins. Everyone wanted to hold and feed them. So, in the nursery was Nancy, her husband, my mother in law, Rosa the baby nurse, DH and me. I was a bit…overwhelmed.  Way too much going on, stimulation, etc. I wanted to do everything at once and be alone, yet was too scared not to have this cushion of people around me.

Here’s what happened when I walked in: I hadn’t been home in close to a month. I walked in and took a second to gather myself. HOME. The smells, the familiar sights. I wanted to go say hello to my doggie but I was holding Princess in her carseat so I had to go put her down upstairs. Everyone had already set the nursery up the weekend before but I hadn’t seen anything yet, so I looked towards the room as I was walking up the stairs. I thought I would get all excited seeing a crib, a glider, a changing table, etc in MY house, but nope, it was normal. It was just a crib, a glider, a changing table. The next thought I had was all the things I wanted to change, to make it more “Sunshine-y.” As grateful as I am for DH’s family up here who did SO much to set it all up, of course I want to make it my own.

The room looked great, I was happy with it. But it’s not like I had ANY expectations. It’s just so sad. And here is where I think I am beginning to dissect a little of what I have been thinking and feeling. Seeing the nursery helped clarify it a bit for me. Before IF, I used to dream about this awesome, whimsical beautiful nursery I would one day have. Well, I lost that dream years ago, and the image of a crib took on a whole new meaning, that of a holy grail. It’s almost a painful thing to look at. So now, here I am, after being absent and disconnected from my house for a month, all these people around me, my MIL living in my house taking care of my pupper, walking up the stairs to a nursery I didn’t even put together to put down twins that I didn’t carry. Disconnected much?

And there it is- the root of all the feelings I talked about in my last post. Disconnection.  So many of you reached out to me and I felt like you GOT IT. I was so impressed and happy  and RELIEVED to get these emails and Facebook messages.  I knew I wasn’t alone, but to hear stories from both people I actually knew as well as readers of this blog whom I’ve never “met” but have always read and knew my whole story has helped me tremendously and I’ve found myself repeating your letters to me.

I still feel disconnected. I like changing, feeding and burping the twins because I feel those are the only “mothering” things there really are to do right now since there isn’t much interaction with 20 day old kids. But I certainly don’t feel this immense huge cord between me and them, nor do I just sit there and stare at them. They don’t really do much, either. (Not that this is an excuse, of course.)  I don’t dislike them or anything, I’m simply waiting for something, whatever it is, to kick in.

But you guys nailed it- Us IFers have the unique ability to brainwash ourselves into believing that nothing will ever go right for us. I now have the ability to look back on the last eight months with 20/20 hindsight and I can see that not once was I happy, giddy or able to just sit back and enjoy the pregnancy as I have stated so many times on this blog. And that all builds up to a negative effect of when you really do get a take home baby. It’s a terrible cumulative affect that makes you (or at least, me) disconnected to the actual baby since you never believed you would have one in the first place, let alone two. Throw in a nice dash of not carrying the baby, then 2 weeks of not caring for them/hospital time, not getting ready for the baby, not even washing one stitch of the baby’s clothes (not even one sock!), and it’s like The Twilight  Zone. I just spent five years ignoring everything “baby” and then here we are. I even was joking with my MIL and the baby nurse in the room the other day that I gained twenty pounds during this pregnancy because I was so nervous (it’s true, I did), even though I didn’t carry. Then I added that I actually really didn’t do much at all because I didn’t carry, I didn’t buy anything, I didn’t prepare, I didn’t set up the nursery, etc, all I did was provide an egg. The nurse replied that you can’t have a baby without an egg! I said, well……that’s true. I had SO many more things I could have said about that statement, it was swirling in my head!

Anyway, here are some quotes I pulled out from you thoughts to me that really really helped, so THANK YOU. I wanted to highlight them in case they could help someone else:

*The few people that do admit to not being super sappy attached to their babies right away (which btw, is how almost everyone feels but people don't talk about it or lie) still said it comes in a few weeks...nope, not for me- it was weeks and weeks. I mean, she was cute and all, but I was kind of eh about the whole thing. I got nothing back from her, and because she was such a preemie, it took her even longer to smile, react, etc. I felt so hopeless sometimes, and I really didn't think I would ever feel better. Ever. I couldn't understand why I didn't feel more attached and why I wasn't really enjoying it. It makes you feel MUCH worse when you've gone through IF so you feel guilty for feeling that way since it's all you ever wanted and now you're not appreciating it and think of the people out there who aren't as lucky as you, blah blah. Bottom line, you WILL feel better on your own time. I think also with IF people, you almost still have that defense mechanism and you don't want to get too attached because you STILL don't believe that it finally happened and won't be taken away from you...again.

*The trauma of IF topped off with a NICU stay really does leave long term effects.

*We talked about this aspect with our grief counselor. She pointed out that when you grow accustomed to bad things happening, disappointments all in a row, endlessly, your psyche is going to naturally start being protective... so that when something good or normal does happen, you have a hard time reacting the way you would expect to. You may be in a somewhat protective mode. It’s kind of depressing, but eventually things will feel more normal. And, the fact is that this glorious parenting thing that is the holy grail to IF'ers is filled with a lot of mundane things, hard work, tiredness, annoyance.

*The best piece of advice I received before I had my first (and I say this because I had been through so much trauma and was afraid of not having that love-at-first-sight feeling because I was too damaged) is that a mother's relationship with her child is one that is built over time, like any other, that this is a process of you getting to know each other, and it doesn't need to be rushed.

*It sounds like classic Baby Blues, which so many people experience. Only with infertility, you really haven't given yourself adequate time to prepare for the baby because you spent the pregnancy wondering if it would actually happen.

* So normal...so, so normal.....so, so, so normal.  I promise.  It may not get better quickly though, so just let yourself have your feelings and don't beat yourself up for having them.  As long as you are taking care of the babies and doing all the things a mommy is supposed to do, you are bonding with them.  It may not feel as warm and exciting as you expected it to feel, but that will come.  For three months I laid in bed and just waited for the boys to be born.  I was annoyed that my life came to a standstill because I had to be on bedrest.  When they finally arrived, I was annoyed that we had to go see them in the hospital for a week. Then we got them home and I was annoyed that they never slept . I was annoyed when they woke me up.  I was annoyed when they wouldn't eat.  I had a friend come over, and she was so tender and maternal, and I was annoyed that I didn't feel that way.  The boys started puking at six weeks, and for their entire first year D puked like seven times a day and J puked like three or four.  It annoyed me to have to clean everything up, and it annoyed me that none of the freaking doctors could figure out what the issue was so that I could stop supporting my local Stanley Steemer.  I literally spent the first year of the boys' life annoyed. 

* People who reflect on how great it is to have kids, etc aren’t saying that while with their first infant!!!  I totally remember feeling how you described, and I dissected it, it worried me, and promised to remember it even if those feelings got replaced just so I could tell other new moms!  I oved your bouncer analogy.  You will fall in love with your kids (a big old romantic love) when they start to reveal their personalities.  Until then, there’s nothing really . . . to love!  It’s just a concept at this point, which doesn’t go very far for many moms. Even though these kids are a lot of work now, try to rejoice in the fact that you don’t have those horrible dark clouds over you anymore, that you’re out of jail, allowed  to partake in life.  These kids gave you back your life.  Until 6 weeks, expect everything to be super amounts of annoying work. Just count on it!! 

*You will be fine, you will bond (it actually took me a few months to feel like her mother, not a babysitter).

So, bottom line: I feel better, but I still don’t feel that “IT.” But having said that, I have the confidence that I will.

 

Home...and then home.

We came home from the hospital on Tuesday, which was bittersweet. By that point we were for sure itching to get out of there, but at the same time SO scared. We kept draaaaging it out! And the wonderful nurses were so wonderful. Not be narcisstic or whatever, but they truly loved us. I think they didn't know what to do with us, us New Yorkers! All of them said how much they were going to miss us, and loved how we always said what we thought (well, when you are in a position where your children are in a hospital, don't you have to? What do the other parents do?) I do know that we had a ton of laughs in that room, and by the time we left, we had been invited to one of their daughter's weddings that weekend, one of the nurses baby showers, and I had four new Facebook friends.

So, we were like celebrities leaving the hospital. We had a cart filled with crap and placed the two carseats on top of the cart, and just wheeled them out. Everyone loves twins, and so many people wanted to come over and ohh and ahhh. And of course the whole boy/girl thing. Again, no fireworks in my head were going off while we were finally taking them home, carrying my OWN babies out of a hospital and to "home."

We got back to the apartment and we let them hang out in the carseats until it was time for the next feeding. Again, it was all just, "ok, so here we are, no big deal." The first night was pretty much what I expected. I had to keep setting my cellphone alarm to change and feed them every three hours, and it was ok.  Peanut wouldn't go back to sleep after the 2:30am feed and that was super annoying, and then Princess decided it was her turn after the 5:30am feed. And then I felt guilty that I was annoyed. And then I was annoyed because I am so sick of this apartment, this tiny bed I am sharing with DH, and as stupid as this sounds, not having a freaking nightstand!! Who furnishes an apartment and doesn't put a nightstand or a clock next to the bed? I have no place to put the pacis, my cellphone for the alarm, or the burpclothes so I have to use the bed in between us as table and for some reason that really pisses me off!

I haven't slept well since I've been here- three weeks. Really wonky dreams. The naps I've taken since they've been home basically are like real life- stressing about what time it is and how much more time do I have until the next feeding, and why are they crying for no reason, and why do they keep spitting up, and when will the spitting up end because it's driving me crazy and it's only just beginning.

Now on to the second part- Do I have PPD or PTSD? I've had a LOT of you gals out there reach out to me warning me that after such a long battle you can feel weird once you win. I never really gave much thought to it. But- aha- I think I'm here. I can't believe I am even going to say this, but here I go: What the hell did I just get myself into? Remind me again why people want children? I think about SO many of the blogs and other comments and IVFCers who wrote that when they finally "fulfilled their dreams of becoming a mommy" that they would just sit there "and stare and stare and cry at their little one" out of sheer happiness. Um, nope, not over here. What gives?

It's not that I don't like them or anything, don't get me wrong! And of course I've read enough about newborn experiences that the first three months are the roughest because they just take, take, take and don't really start giving back until then when they start to smile and coo back at you. But how do I know I'll even feel differently then? Right now I just feel lazy, like I wish I had a nanny here 24/7 to do all the hard work for me. And then that makes me feel guilty. I know a lot of you are going to say that this is all normal, but how do I believe you? What if it's not? This is just SO not what I thought I would be feeling. I kind of feel let down, like everyone talked up this big party that I wasn't invited to for five years, and now that the bouncer finally let me in, I'm looking around and saying to myself, "this is it?"

Going back to New York on Saturday. Hopefully I'll feel better there. But honestly, there is part of me that doesn't even want to go back, I'm scared to get into my routine and be disappointed again. I’m scared. I need to bond with these children, asap.