What's Really Important

So we sailed through the extreme cinnamon rolls without incident. We somehow coped when all the laundry in the entire house was dirty (until Husband valiantly saved the day and washed most of it). We got by when I was puking my face off. We survived pulling out of school early, throwing stuff in a backpack and driving ten minutes later to the other end of the state to see our Grandma on her deathbed. We hung on through the loss of our babies, the D&C, and Grandma's funeral. And then, I did it. The stupidest thing I could ever have done. I said- OUT LOUD- that the kids had handled everything remarkably well. And then I SHOULD HAVE called an exorcist, because ever since that day, they have been decompressing (read: posessed) to an extreme degree. I have been in tears more than once and have sat seething in anger a few times too. Seriously, it's been all I can do to remind myself that families are the most important thing on earth and that I love those kids more than anything else in this world. Mostly, I've just wanted to hang a cardboard sign around their necks and stick them out on the curb.
"FREE. TAKE ONE."

I guess I'm grateful for a perspective which helps me at times like this to remember what it is I love and what's really important.


Tonight, I took dinner to a friend who is sick. She's the sort of person who is CONSTANTLY helping other people but doesn't let anyone help her. I insisted on bringing the food in spite of her polite refusals because- who doesn't need homemade chicken noodle soup? I'm not even sick and I want some. Anyway, I made the soup, some homemade buttermilk biscuits (something that I am somehow very good at in spite of the baking-challenged environment I was raised in), homemade whipped honey butter, and my famous chocolate chip cookies. (Yes, they are famous. No, you can't have the recipe. It's my very own and I can count the number of people I've disclosed it to on one hand- and they've all been SWORN to secrecy. I developed the cookies because I was feeling competitive with my friend Piano Girl who was always bragging about how great her cookies are. Someday I'll have to make her some of them.) Anyway, my kids were totally excited about the cookies they just happened to notice baking in the kitchen. I told them that I was taking some to The Nicest Lady I Know and that they could have some later during Family Home Evening. I got the food all ready to go, pulled the hot biscuits out of the oven and arranged them on a tray, and carried everything to the car. Immediately, Monster Truck(2) started crying. He began potty training today so I thought maybe he was stressed about me leaving him to tend to his bathroom needs by himself for four minutes. Or maybe he wanted to come too, but I didn't have time to look for his shoes. ALWAYS the shoes. He has a little toddler crush on me right now so his big huge tears just melted my heart. He just loves me so much. It almost made all the psycho-children moments this week seem worth it because he so obviously wanted to be with me. I called up the stairs to Little Mommy(9) to watch the little boys while Bubba(7!) and I delivered the food to our friend a block and a half away. Then I quick-shut the door and locked the deadbolt with my key so Monster Truck(2) couldn't get out. We got into the car, started to back out of the driveway, and I see Monster Truck(2) standing in the open doorway, wailing out into the night, "MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY!" "Oh, poor [Monster Truck(2)]", I said to Bubba(7). We delivered the food as fast as we could and returned in 4 or 5 minutes. When I came home Little Mommy(9) was sweetly distracting Monster Truck(2) from my absence. I walked in and his little face lit up- "MOMMY!". I rushed to him and gave him a hug saying, "See? I came back. I wouldn't leave you." Then he looked up into my face with anger and resentment burning behind his eyes and said, "YOU TAKED THE TOOKIES buh-bye." The little booger never wanted ME at all! Like I said, I'm glad I know what I love and what's really important. And so does Monster Truck(2), apparently.
Score: Kids-3, Mom-0

The Verdict Is Out

Thank you all for your kind words, thoughts, and prayers. Your encouragement and support are greatly appreciated. We went for our first official prenatal appointment today when they give you all the papers about what to do if such-and-such happens, and a gift bag full of useless crap and coupons, etc. When the doctor went to listen for a heartbeat she couldn't find one. She sent us down to ultrasound where we discovered that baby A's heart has stopped beating. I am going to the hospital tomorrow morning for a D&C and hopefully will recover soon. My heart will certainly take much longer to heal than my reproductive system. Such a roller coaster ride to think- they're not fine, they are fine, one is not fine, the other is doing great, the other has died. I am exhausted. Thank goodness for anti-depressants which I am starting immediately after my surgery. Keep us in your prayers. We'll probably need them for the next little while.

Love to you all.

Verdict Is In

We will be having just one baby. That's all I have to say about that at this time.

Husband's grandmother may be leaving this world to be reunited with her husband. I am leaving right now to pick my kids up from school to drive down to where she is in the hospital to say goodbye. Road conditions are safe at the moment but a big storm is coming in tonight and your prayers for our safe return would be appreciated.

Bittersweet

It's not my favorite kind chocolate chips. I'm a milk chocolate girl, all the way.

It's also not my favorite kind of news but, what are you gonna do? So the news today is bittersweet.

I'll start with the sweet. Baby "A" has a heartbeat. That is wonderful, exciting news that is cause for gratitude. Baby "A" measured 6 weeks, 4 days on Friday (the 28th). Yay! That means probably healthy baby. Now for the bitter. Baby "B" did not have an audible heartbeat. Baby "B"'s placenta is tucked directly behind Baby "A" so it is nearly impossible to get a visual of it at this stage but they're telling me that they should have heard a heartbeat. It is very unusual (not totally impossible) for one baby to have a heartbeat and not the other. So, in all likelihood, Baby "B" is not going to make it. I have another ultrasound next Friday just to be sure. I have two placentas which means twice the hormones, which means DOUBLE THE MORNING SICKNESS AND ACID REFLUX- but most likely, I will only have one baby. That is very sad. I am so grateful that Baby "A" has a chance but I still feel like I'm losing a baby. It's a very confusing emotion. Also, I'm scared to get excited about Baby "A" yet because for some reason, every woman who has gotten pregnant in my ward in the last two months has miscarried. (The last count was up to 6 women I think.) I'm avoiding drinking the tap water in case it's environmental but who knows.

Anyway, I appreciate all your prayers. Keep sending them my way. I'll try to post a little sooner next time. What with all the puking and laying around, I haven't felt like sitting at the computer.

What The Grinch Stole, The Robbers Gave Back

On Sunday after church, while Bubba(6) was still in his suit and Mr. Yuke(4) was in a white shirt and his underwear ("Call me 'Captain Underpants!"), they went down to the forbidden zone and rummaged through the toys that are out of rotation. (We rotate the toys in the playroom every couple of weeks so that everything gets played with and cleaned on a regular basis. The toys not in the playroom are on shelves in the basement.) Somewhere down there they found swimming goggles. I do not know why we have these. We have never purchased goggles. Ever. Anyway, the obvious course of action when you are in a suit and goggles is to be a bank robber. I didn't know this. I saw them tiptoe-ing up the stairs and inquired what they were sneaking off to do. They turned around, fixed their goggle stares on me, and whispered, "We're robbers." I had a hard time keeping a straight face, not expecting two sets of goggles to be looking at me. When they were upstairs, Husband said, "I don't know what's wrong with this generation. When I was a kid" (doesn't he sound old?) "we always wanted to be the HERO." I answered, "Well they usually do too. But today they couldn't, OBVIOUSLY." Him- "Why not?" Me- "Because 'hey- goggles.'"

You know that I've been under the weather. Extreme Cinnamon Rolls, PT, Husband out of town, exhaustion and morning sickness that lasts all day long (that's the worst misnomer in the English language), kids with flu, threatening miscarriage of twins, etc. We didn't have Thanksgiving really and I just barely did the shopping for Christmas, and we probably aren't going to eat much on Christmas either. If I'm not in the middle of a miscarriage, I will still be sick as a dog and cooking food is the enemy.

We have not put up our tree yet. It's sad and I've missed it but I can only do so much. Right now, "so much" consists of waking up at some point in the a.m., changing diapers, fixing bottles, feeding children, drinking water, catching up on laundry, besides making sure all the kids have clean pajamas to wear to school for "Polar Express Day" and gifts to exchange for their school and church classes. I've got my wife to murder and Gilder to frame for it. I'm swamped. Oh wait- no. I don't have a wife. But I have had all that other stuff going on in addition to the normal December madness. Really, all things considered, I've been pretty okay with not having the tree up. This week was the first chance we've really had to get it out and now- what with being COMPLETELY distracted with worrying about the babies, I just don't feel like it is worth the energy (that I do not have anyway) to drag all that stuff out for just one week. I've pondered the possibility that Christmas is about the Savior anyway so maybe those nice, pretty reminders are not completely necessary and it might be nice to have an old fashioned, spartan Christmas. Well, yesterday someone informed me that not having a Christmas tree is bordering on CHILD ABUSE. I am not making this up. I pointed out that maybe if she thought about all those children who are regularly beaten by their parents, she would realize that not having a Christmas tree is a FAR CRY from that. She asked, "Well how would you feel if you were a kid without a Christmas tree?" I answered, "It came without ribbons, boxes, or bags.... It came. Somehow... it came just the same." (How the Grinch Stole Christmas- Dr. Seuss) No. In spite of the reference to her favorite Christmas book, she would not concede. ("It's IMPORTANT to them!") I told her that I honestly don't think they'll care. I'm pretty sure that all they care about is GETTING STUFF and that isn't going to be a problem. She answered loftily that it is a decision you're just going to have to make. Just like that, with the italics and everything. And now- even though I was fine with not having a tree before (because as I said, I can only do so much), now I feel like garbage.

I was wondering tonight how I am going to focus on The Greatest Gift/the Savior this coming week when every corner of my mind is completely consumed with worrying- and trying not to think about the twins. Then Husband started singing lullaby-hymns to Muhloo(8m). I thought of that little baby in his mother's arms; the one who made it possible for me to hold all my wonderful children in mine. The baby who made it a reality that I will know these children someday, whether in this life or the next. And suddenly, I knew.

All my preoccupation with the possibilities would not matter in the least if it were not for the baby born in Bethlehem.

Merry Christmas.

"goggles" by Julie K in Taiwan; "Golden Christmas" by krisdecurtis

The Cats Are Out of the Bag

Well, I haven't posted for a while because I've been sick. I had the flu Monday and Tuesday- a natural reaction to the domino effect started by Mr. Yuke 2 weeks ago which is still finishing up with the last family members right now. Cleaning up the puke and diarrhea has kept me too busy to blog. (Sorry if that grosses you out.) I've been wondering WHY we spent the money and the time and the aggravation to go get those stupid flu shots. AND, I've had morning sickness for the last three weeks as well.

Yup. That's right. Husband looked at me and now I'm pregnant. Again. It's a good thing and I have been excited (between the bouts of nausea and exhaustion). Until yesterday.

Husband and I thought it would be a fun joke not to tell our families about the baby. We thought that it would be hilarious to just show up next time we see them either with me all huge and say that WW is not working for me, or with an extra kid in tow and say, "What are you talking about? We've always had this many." Besides the fact that it would be funny, it would spare me an extra 10 months of disparraging remarks from my grandparents, and the general strain-to-approve from the rest of the family. Don't get me wrong. A lot of them try really hard to be supportive. It's just that having a big family goes against everything the media has been telling them their whole lives. (For those of you who think having many children is irresponsible, I refer you to this article. We have never needed financial assistance from either our church or the government and our kids are all happy and well adjusted.)

So getting to yesterday. I went in for my ultrasound to find out my due date. Being a person not blessed with a regular cycle, I never know how far along I am. By normal indicators, I should have been 8 weeks, 4 days. The babies actually measured 6 weeks, 1 day. Yes. I said "Babies". Well, yay! That's so exciting in a terrifying roller coaster-ish sort of way. Except that the ultrasound did not have good news. There actually weren't any "babies" at all. I had two beautiful gestational sacs which appeared to be empty. This means that although they COULD be ok, there is a higher probability that I am going to lose them both. I have another ultrasound on the 28th to check for babies. We decided last night that our plan to keep the pregnancy under wraps was not going to work, given the circumstances. Even if the babies end up being fine next week, there are so many things that can go wrong with twin pregnancies that we felt our families needed to know. That way, we won't be calling them up when I am 6 months along and saying, "Baby B is dying from Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome." or some other horrid thing like that out of the blue.

My whole life I've wanted 8 children and I hate being pregnant so much that having these babies be healthy, normal twins would be the perfect ending to our family. I want them and I am hoping that they will be ok. I am afraid to be excited. I would appreciate any prayers on our behalf. Whatever happens, "His eye is on the sparrow[s] and I know He's watching over me".

"Sparrow Twins" by e3000