I should clarify

Regarding my last blog:  Do Unto Others



I should clarify, because I don't think this was made clear the way I wrote it (based on some feedback)...

I was not upset DURING my pregnancy/post-pregnancy.  Honestly, I'm very independent, so I really just assumed we'd be doing everything ourselves without help.  It was only after my pregnancy/had the boys and that I noticed all of these request for other people that I started to think Why do I need to make a casserole for someone just because they had a baby...no one made casseroles for us, and we still managed to eat.  And then before I knew it, it seemed like everyone I knew was getting meal trains for everything.  THAT is when I started feeling jealous and wondering why it seemed like everyone in the world got them but me.

And with the baby showers, again, I just assumed we'd be getting the things our kids needed, so I didn't care at the time that I wasn't thrown a shower.  (And for the record, I did have a registry online and I had lots of friends and family send us gifts either from the registry or hand me downs of things they had on the registry, I just didn't get the joyous party with cake part).  It wasn't until long after, seeing most everyone else not only getting one shower, but showers with every baby.  When I would go to showers, I just get jealous that I never had that special experience.

(Oh, and I maintain not liking showers for subsequent babies, except of course in cases like a big gap between children, or oops pregnancies after you thought you were done and had gotten rid of your baby stuff.  But just because I don't like them doesn't mean I judge you if you've had one.  And, p.s. I always give my friends presents for the subsequent babies too...I just don't like the idea of showering them with all new expensive equipment and stuff just because they want a different color, etc. It just seems like wasteful and unnecessary to me.  But that is obviously just my opinion.  And opinions are like assholes. )

The only thing I wished differently DURING the actual process was that more people would come visit...but that was just because I was crazy lonely.  Like almost literally going crazy from laying in the bed all day.  Superman even wrote a blog post (that he wisely did not show me until much later) that he was becoming concerned for my mental health.  The RATIONAL part of me understood why my friends and family who lived hundreds miles away didn't come visit but instead supported me through countless phone calls, emails, cards, care packages, sending flowers, etc...  But it was that other side.  The poor-me, selfish, ungrateful side that wanted them there in the flesh, regardless of the cost or inconvenience.  I can sit here and rationally understand why they didn't...but that doesn't mean I wanted it any less.  Or that I love them any less because they didn't.

I guess the point of my blog is that we all have demons.  Just a few of mine are these terrible thoughts I have (I have used this blog to openly discuss others in the past also)...but it's what we DO with them.  Instead of letting those evil thoughts take hold and not doing anything for others because I'm jealous those things weren't done for me...I still GLADLY make the casseroles or attend the baby showers, etc.  I don't do it out of obligation or because I feel like I owe it to anyone for any reason, I do it because I genuinely want to help and support them, and I know that anyone in their same situation would appreciate it.

So, in closing:  I love my friends.  They are wonderful and were wonderfully supportive of me the best way they could be at the time (especially the ones who were themselves pregnant at the time).  But it doesn't mean I don't have the occasional pity party that I had had all of the things that I now see other women having.  I'm only human.

But the main take away I was trying to leave was this: Don't be a jerk.  Just because something wasn't done for you, don't begrudge other people for it.  Don't NOT do something for someone just because no one did it for you.  Make sure to do it because you know its the right thing to do, and you know it would make them happy, as you know it would have made you.

Don't get mad at people for having what you didn't have.  Especially if you call them a friend.  You should just be happy for them that they have (at least one thing) easier than you did!! :)

Do unto others

Sometimes I astound myself with my selfish and ungrateful thoughts.

Whenever I get an email asking for volunteers to help someone in a time of need, my first thought is “I should help.”  Then my second thought is usually: “Actually why should I?  No one helped me when I was in the similar situation.”  Then my next thought is “You are a terrible person! You should do onto others as you would have liked others to do onto you.

It like when I was on bedrest… I was on bedrest for 4 months.  That is 16 weeks.  115 days to be precise.  I couldn’t get up to make myself a sandwich.  Heck I was barely allowed to use the bathroom.  Yet do you know how many visitors I got?  8.  (Well, 14 if you count spouses and children.)

1. Superman of course was there for the 4 weeks I was at home, and came to the hospital every day.  (Although he never once stayed the night with me…not even on the weekends) 
2. My aunt and uncle came to stay with me for a weekend when I was still at home while Superman had to go out of town. 
3. My friend from college came to visit me at home when she was in town for business. 
4. My MIL and FIL visited once at home and three times when I was in the hospital.
5.  A friend from grad school/colleague came to the hospital twice, each time she brought one of the following women with her: 
6. A friend/colleague 
7. A friend/colleague
8.  My cousin and his wife and their three kids (including their set of twin boys) showed up as a surprise on Easter day, because they were in town visiting her family.

I get that people are busy and that travel is expensive and time consuming, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that I was really disappointed that over a course of 16 weeks laid up in bed, not being able to go anywhere or do anything, that I only had 8 visitors.

So now whenever I hear of someone going on bedrest for a pregnancy, even if I don’t know them.  I try to help some way.  If they live far away, I send them a message of support (with ideas of things I did to help pass the time and keep from going crazy).  But if they live nearby, I offer to come visit them.  In fact, last year someone I knew on facebook set up a meal delivery calendar for her friend, and I signed up to bring them a meal.  I signed up to bring a perfect stranger a meal, and I ended up sitting and talking with her for about an hour.  Because rather than give into my selfish feelings of “no one made any meals for us when I was on bedrest” I decided to do unto others as I would have liked them to do unto me.

Once I had my babies, it didn’t get any better.  I had even less visitors!  Visitors I had when/after the baby was born:

1.  My parents and brother came for the birth
2.  MIL and FIL came for the birth and about came about once a month for the next 6 months or so
3. My aunt came for the birth
4.  My sister came for a week when they were 6 weeks old

That’s it.  Forget people dropping by with casseroles or presents.  That was it.

So again, when I hear of someone organizing a meal train for a friend or acquaintance that just had a baby, I think: “Are you kidding me?!?! I had TWINS and no one ever brought us dinner over.” But then I have to silence that little selfish voice and remember that I have to do onto others as I would have liked others to do unto me.

And I have to remind myself to quit being ungrateful, and instead of focusing on who didn’t come…focus instead on who did!  Really appreciate them and let them know I appreciated them.

Oh, and don’t get me started on baby showers.  Never had one.  No one even offered.  Now, most of the time, this doesn't bother me, because honestly I was extremely blessed with hand-me downs (special thanks to my cousin and his wife who had twins two years before us) and have a shop-aholic and yard sale crazy MIL who was more than happy to buy every matching outfits she came across. And really, I preferred receiving hand me downs on baby items that you only use for a few weeks/months over anyone (even if it isn’t me) spending $100s of dollars on them new.  But it’s not the thought of the actual presents so much as the fact that NO ONE OFFERED.

A friend of mine from college had a baby a few years after Thing 1 and Thing 2 were born.  Like me, she lived in an area far away from friends and family…so her friends threw her a virtual baby shower online.  It was very unique and definitely incredibly thoughtful.  I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been jealous no one had offered to do something similar for me.

So when I see women being super picky on their baby shower registries.  Must be this brand.  Must be this color. Must be this theme.  Blah blah blah. I’m like “Bitch, just be happy I’m buying you ANYTHING because lord knows you didn’t buy me jack-shit when I had my TWO babies.”  (Sorry, cursing is necessary, because this is what goes through my head.)

And don’t get me started on second baby showers.  The whole point of showers is to shower new parents with things to get them ready for a baby…you’ve never had a baby before so you don’t have a crib, or a high chair, or diapers, etc.  But once you’ve had one baby…you don’t need another shower.  You got your shower.  You had people buy you hundreds of dollars’ worth of new (because you are too good for used) baby shit.  USE THAT!  Yes, you can use that same crib.  Yes, you can put your baby girl into a blue car seat/highchair/stroller…if you are worried about people “not being able to tell it’s a girl” how about #1 covering her head to toe with pink or #2 not giving a fuck (do you think little Susie will be scarred for life if people mistakenly say “he is such a pretty baby” when she is less than 1 years old and can’t even talk yet?  Hint: she won’t be, because she #1 Doesn't understand English and #2 WON’T REMEMBER IT!

So obviously I still have these feelings of selfishness, ungratefulness, and being judgmental.  I’m dealing with them.  And I’m also dealing with the question of “Am I just a sucky friend/person that my friends and family don’t care enough to offer to do things for me the way that other people do for their friends and family?”  Maybe that’s it.  Maybe the problem is me...

Meanwhile, I keep trying to suppress these unhealthy feelings and focus on not doing to others as was done to me, but instead doing unto others as I would have liked have been done for me.  Maybe in the end it will make me a better person and friend.  Maybe it will encourage others to pass on kindness shown to them.  Or maybe it won’t do anything, except make me feel better helping someone else out during their time of need.  I'd be okay with that.

Grateful

It's amazing what we stumble on while surfing the internet.  Today I clicked on a link on CNN.com on the story of a Toledo woman who was implanted with the wrong embryos and some where along the way ended up on a website called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, which is an organization that provides free photography services to woman who have lost a baby.

I read a few of these incredibly touching and sad stories, and was overwhelmed with feelings.  Sadness.  Sympathy.  Anger.  Guilt.

But most of all, I kept thinking how lucky I was to have somehow ended up with not just one, but two healthy children.

And while I cursed so much of the process at the time, I can look back now and appreciate how many wonderful things aligned just right to make their life possible.

It was an unplanned pregnancy.  I wasn't taking any vitamins or supplements or folic acid.  But luckily I discovered I was pregnant very early on and was able to immediately be put under a doctor's care.

I had recently moved to Ohio and hadn't even found an OBGYN yet.  I picked Dr. Miracle out of an insurance directory.  I believe I owe my sons lives to this amazing doctor.

We discovered it was twins very early on (7 weeks).  Dr. Miracle scheduled an ultrasound right away "just in case," even though most woman I know don't have their first ultrasound until 12 weeks.

Dr. Miracle just so happened to have completed a residency with a Maternal Fetal Medicine specialist who specialized in multiple pregnancies.  So the first thing she did was begin monitoring me for incompetent cervix, which she knew I was at higher risk for carrying multiples, by ordering a vaginal ultra sound every two weeks.

When the MFM in Toledo saw the initial "funneling" (first signs of an incompetent cervix) he was actually willing to wait another week to see if we needed to operate.  Dr. Miracle was more aggressive.  She called me at work that afternoon and I'll never forget her words: "He is the specialist. But I'm telling you, if it was my babies and my body, I'd be in the hospital having that cerclage done tonight."  And I was.  And I did.

From there, I did everything she told me to do.  Everything.  She told me to stay on bedrest for one week.  Lay in bed all day.  Only get up to go to the bathroom and for one short 5 minute shower a night.  Have Superman time me.

After one week, I went in for my check up and there was more bad news.  The cerclage was holding, but the funneling was worse, my cervix was opened all the way down to the sutures now.  Instead of going back to work and continuing the rest of my pregnancy normally, I would be on bedrest (or what I like to call "bed arrest") for the remainder of my pregnancy.  I was 20 weeks along.

Everyday before leaving for work, Superman would fix up a cooler of meals and snacks for me and put it on my bedside.  I watched a lot of tv, surfed a lot of internet, did a lot of crossword puzzles, cross stitching, crocheting, reading...you name it.  We were new to the area, so during four weeks of bed arrest I had six non-Superman visitors.  My in-laws came once, my aunt and uncle from Indiana came once, one work colleague came, and one of my friends from home who was traveling through NW Ohio on a business trip.  I was bored out of mind.  But I stayed in that bed.

After three weeks of weekly check ups, the prognosis wasn't good.  My cervix was dangerously thin and open.  Dr. Miracle said it could no longer take the pressure of traveling 10 minutes for my weekly check ups.  She was concerned the cerclage would rip (I could have hemorrhaged) and/or that the amniotic sac would break (pre-mature delivery).  She wanted me in the hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy.  I was 23 weeks along

I was still allowed up to go to the bathroom, but my daily showers which had been changed to every other day showers were now changed again to weekly showers.  I would be a button press and five feet away from emergency medical care.  My room was the closest to the nurses' station on the maternity ward.  I was ordered to spend my days lying in the trendelenburg position, with my feet up and head down.  I was put on medication to hold off contractions, since they would have an averse affect on my cervix.  I was given a steroid shot to help develop the boys lungs in the likely case they were born pre-mature.

Once a week, I was wheeled down to the ultrasound tech (not in a wheelchair mind you, in my bed).  Every week my cervix measurements got smaller and smaller.  Every week we held our breath, crossed our fingers, and said our prayers that my cervix could hold out just one more week.

As my cervix continued to shrink, my restrictions grew.  Soon there were no more showers.  Soon I was on a bedpan.

Right around 28 weeks, what the medical community deems "viability," I had a brief resurgence in my cervical measurements.  We were elated.  Until I got the letter from my insurance company saying it no longer considered my hospital stay to be necessary medical treatment.  They argued that because my cervix was getting better, I didn't need to be in the hospital.  Dr. Miracle told us not to worry.  She explained to the bureaucrats that my cervix was getting better because the treatment WAS WORKING.  Then, in language they understood she asked if they'd rather pay for an extended minimally invasive stay of the mother or for the extended intensive care stay of two incredibly premature babies.  They decided my care, being considerably less expensive was the better investment.

Unfortunately, the resurgence didn't last long.  And soon I was back to agonizing over premature delivery and what possible long term complications my sons would have if they beat the odds and survived.

At 30 weeks, Dr. Miracle told me if I made it to 35 weeks and the boys measured at least 5 lbs each, she'd plan the cesarean.  (Any thoughts I'd had about trying a vaginal delivery were by this point long gone out the window.  I'd have been much too weak.)

The nurses made me a tear off countdown clock.  We started a "birthdate" pool.

My cervix was shrinking.  I was put on an IV for dehydration.  I was depressed.  I was lonely (my only regular vistor was Superman, but even he worked, so my time with him was limited to 6 pm -10 pm during the week).  I was pale.  I was weak.  I slept a lot.

At 33 weeks, the boys were both measuring almost 5 lbs by ultrasound, so Dr. Miracle, Superman, and I set a delivery date: June 11.  We called our parents and friends.

(Sidenote: My sister wanted me to change the date to June 13, so they'd share her birthday.  I told her she was crazy after 16 weeks of bedrest to ask me to wait even one more day.  In hindsight, though I haven't told her, I wish I'd waited.  But at the time I was not mentally or emotionally prepared to do that.)

All of the days in the birthdate pool passed....33 weeks and 5 days, 34 weeks and 1 day, 34 weeks and 3 days...  my stubborn little cervix literally beat every single date that anyone had guessed.  Including Superman's.  Including mine.

My parents came.

Superman's parents came.

June 11th came.

And at 11 am, I was wheeled into the Operating Room.

At 11:36 am, Thing 1 was born weighing 5lbs 13 oz and 18.5 inches long.  Scoring a perfect 10 on the Apgar scale.

At 11:38 am, Thing 2 was born weighting 5 lbs 7 oz and 18.25 inches long.  Scoring a 10 on the Apgar scale.

16 weeks filled with worry, anxiety, tears, and uncertainty.  Every second worth it.  I felt, and still feel, like the luckiest woman in the world.

Six weeks later, during my final post-delivery check up with Dr. Miracle, she admitted that even she didn't think I'd make it to 35 weeks.  She thought when I was admitted to the hospital, I'd be lucky to make it another 2 or 3 weeks tops.

I don't know why fate smiled down on me and my boys, but I'm really really grateful.