Across the Finish Line: My Final Journey through Infertility

This is the story of our final journey through the winding roads of infertility, and our happy arrival at the finish line.

Promises

It was the tail end of December in 2015. I sat in a spacious room on the fourth floor of the hospital, waiting for a nurse to call my name. My anticipation was high. I was a few months pregnant with my second child and just moments away from finding out the gender.

This little nugget inside of me was a blessing and a miracle, another success story with in vitro fertilization (IVF). We had started fertility treatments just a few months earlier, and were thrilled - and shocked - to have success on our first try! We'd been through many treatments and losses with our first child, so we were happy skip all that emotional turmoil this time around.

I remember the crinkled paper that sat on my lap, a list of names I'd been writing out over the past couple of months. One side was for boys and the other for girls. I remember staring at it and feeling that those girl names didn't matter. I was having another boy and I knew it.

They called my name and I tucked that crinkled paper away. I headed back to a little examination room with my mom and my husband there with me to share in the moment. So many people, my mom included, were gleefully anticipating a girl. I admit, I wanted that too. Even though I felt certain it was a boy, I was quietly hoping to be wrong.

More than anything, I loved the idea of having one of each. With a girl and a boy, it took the pressure off future pregnancies. You didn't have to desperately hope for one gender over the other, because you already had one of each. Anything after that was a bonus!

We started out ultrasound and my baby came into view. Now was the moment. And there it was, clear as day:

Boy parts.

Turns out I was right and, admittedly, I was a bit let down. Boys had been an ongoing theme in my life in an almost laughable set of circumstances. I had three brothers and no sisters. Don't get me wrong, I played just fine with my brothers. I honestly preferred their boyish adventures over the girl stuff. We played live action Dungeons and Dragons, had battles with our action figures and army men, captured moths and spiders and snails wherever we could find them, and had many adventures in our backyard.

But I always longed for a sister. My mom had built me a giant Barbie house, but with no sisters, it rarely saw any playtime. The girls in my neighborhood were all older than me too, so they had no interest in that. In fact, the only kid my age was a boy, so we'd ride bikes down to the creek to catch tadpoles and crawdads. But definitely no Barbies.



Even at church, every kid my age was a boy. I'd go to Sunday School, me and eight boys in a class, and shake my head at my lot in life. I did get to visit and play with my cousins sometimes, and wouldn't you know it, they were boys too! We'd pretend to be warriors and wizards, climb trees and make forts and play video games. Everywhere I turned, my only option was to play with boys and do boy things.

And here I was, having another boy.

I guess I'm super-qualified to be a boy mom, but I always imagined having a house full of girls. It seemed only right after all. If I never had a sister or a group of girlfriends, I'd at least get a few daughters, right? I'd embrace the dolls and dresses and makeup and revel in all that girlhood I never had.

But that was looking less and less likely and I was honestly getting a little peeved about it.

Leaving that ultrasound, I said to myself, “I’m getting my girl if it’s the last thing I do!” 

I didn’t know how or when that would happen, but at that moment, it made me feel better. It was a promise to myself and I intended to keep it.

Funny enough, despite all my longing for girls, I couldn't be more head over heals for my boys. Gavin is five years old now and Ethan is three, and they've been quite an adventure. My favorite part has been seeing them develop such a strong friendship and love for each other. They are very close, and nothing has been more rewarding to me as a mother than that.

What I love especially is how much they defend one another and look out for each other. Just the other day, Gavin got in trouble so I took away his hot wheels car. Gavin started crying about it and then Ethan cried too. Ethan came to me begging for the car. He was so tearful and distraught, I started thinking maybe I'd taken away his car instead of Gavin's. So I handed the car over to Ethan, and he didn't hesitate one bit. He went straight to Gavin and give him the car. It wasn't Ethan's after all. He just didn't want his brother to be so upset, and was trying to fix it and make him feel better. It was so cute to see him come to the rescue. Both boys are there for each other when they're upset or in trouble, and it warms my heart to see.

Gavin and Ethan are very cute kids. They're smart and fun and they love their momma very much. They give me kisses and hugs, pick flowers for me, snuggle with me, and give me the biggest and most adorable smiles I could ever ask for.

Perhaps I have no daughters, but I am one lucky momma and I know it.

The Quest Begins

Time passed and I got to thinking about how I’d keep that promise to myself. In my heart, I felt certain that my third child would be another boy. But that wasn’t going to stop me from trying for another. Three boys sounded pretty fun too, and I’d always liked the idea of having three kids, whatever the outcome.

The path ahead was pretty straightforward. After our last round of IVF, we had one remaining embryo that we froze for later use. If I wanted to try for another baby, the next logical step was to try with that embryo and hope for the best. If it worked, we could have our third child and leave all this infertility business behind us!

I was really bummed to have only one embryo to work with, though. My track record wasn't all that great, despite my successes. I'd transferred ten embryos over the years and from those ten, only two resulted in a baby. That was below average for IVF. Considering my history, my chances of failure or loss with this one single embryo felt pretty high.

And the stakes were high too. If this one embryo failed, we had no embryos left. That meant starting all over again, doing more treatments. I wasn't sure if I was up to it, emotionally or financially.

I booked an appointment with my fertility doctor as soon as I could. It was June of 2017, and Ethan was approaching his first birthday. My doctor asked if I was still nursing, and I was, just once or twice a day. He told me that even occasional nursing could lower my chances of success with getting pregnant because the hormones released from nursing act as a natural birth control. He said it’d be best if I waited until I was completely done nursing and had been done nursing for a few months. That way all the nursing hormones would be out of my system.

So I changed my plans. I did stop nursing soon thereafter and decided I’d wait until the new year to transfer my embryo. That gave me six months to clear out all the nursing hormones out of me and feel safe to move forward.

As the new year approached and I got closer to my transfer date, I thought I'd look for an infertility group online. I liked the idea of talking to others who were battling for a baby and understood the strain involved.

I thought the extra support would be especially helpful since I was keeping a tight lid on our efforts for a baby. I wanted to surprise family and friends once we got pregnant, so there were very few people who knew anything about it. Sharing my journey with fellow infertility warriors helped me have a sounding board and support system I didn't have otherwise.

I found a local Facebook group and really enjoyed getting involved in the online community. I was overwhelmed by all the support I got when I posted about my journey! There were a hundred different people I didn't even know who were following my journey and rooting for me. How cool! It was extra special knowing they were familiar with the all feelings and processes involved and could relate so well.

I found a lot of purpose in giving support to others as well. I had a lot of experience behind me. I'd been in the trenches - had my victories and failures - and could share that experience with others. It was healing, in a way, to put my past to good use somehow, if only to walk alongside others struggling through. It helped me develop friendships with others, and increase my respect and compassion for them too.

A few of the women in the group started a monthly meetup where we'd get together for a casual outing. It was so refreshing to meet in person, to commiserate about the journey and laugh about it too. I became a regular at the outings and developed a few close friendships with the women there. It was neat to support one another and see all our journey's unfold.

On January 5^th, 2018, I transferred my one remaining embryo. At the time, my two sons were challenging my resolve to have another child. Gavin had improved, but had been a very difficult toddler and really worn me down. Ethan was a horrible sleeper and had been getting me up all night every night since birth, with no sign of improvement. I wasn't sure I was ready for a baby, now or ever. So I felt at peace with transferring our last embryo and letting the chips fall where they may. I'd be happy to be pregnant, but if I wasn't, that was fine too.

Here was my post to my infertility group that day:

“About to do my last FET [frozen embryo transfer] with my one final embryo. The embryo looks excellent and is already hatching. Couldn’t ask for better news. I’m feeling at peace with whatever happens.”

I was flooded with so much love and support on that post, all these people I’d never met who were praying for me and thinking of me. It was very uplifting.

But, with the odds against me, I had a sneaking suspicion that this transfer wouldn't work.

As the days went on, I felt that skepticism turn into certainty. I was so certain of failure, in fact, that I broke my own rule and took a home pregnancy test. I'd seen too many negative tests in my time and had come to dread them. It was just too upsetting for me. So I always skipped the home test and waited until my official blood test to find out if I was pregnant or not. But this time, I was so certain it had failed and I wanted it over with. I wanted the finality of a negative test so I could stop all the wondering.

And, of course, I was hoping to be wrong and see a positive instead.

But no. I was right. It was a negative.

Although I expected it, I was very disappointed and felt my heart sink. I had the official blood test a few days later, but now I knew what to expect. No more surprises, and no more anticipation either.

I remember the exact moment when the clinic called with my results. It was an unusally warm and sunny day in the middle of winter, and my friend and I were at the playground with our kids. We were having a good time and our kids were playing so cute together. I was holding Ethan in my lap, sliding down a slide, when I heard my phone ring. I already knew the answer, and wanted the whole thing behind me.

The phone call was quick. Not pregnant. Yes, I know.

I hung up and had a strange blend of emotions. On the one hand, I was sad, of course. It would have been so lovely to have it all work out, to complete our family and put treatments behind us. Too good to be true, I guess.

At the same time, I did feel prepared for the call because of my home test, so it wasn't quite so crushing. I'd already been able to process it over the past few days, and had expected failure from the get go.

I felt I should be sad, but I actually had a hard time feeling sorry for myself. Here I was on this beautiful day with my beautiful friend and my beautiful children, feeling happy and loved and grateful. Maybe I didn't get what I wanted this time, but I was so blessed and I knew it. So I put my phone away and kept playing with my kids. I soaked up the sun and enjoyed the moment with a genuine smile on my face.

As failures go, it wasn't too bad.

Now What?

The best defense against failed fertility treatments is to have a backup plan. That way, you can immediately turn your attention to something else. "If this doesn't work out, we'll shoot for another transfer in three months." You feel a sense of purpose from that. You have a new goal and a new time frame in mind. You've got something else to fight for and that helps pull you out of the muck.



But I had no plan. Instead there was this void and it was very uncomfortable for me. So the very next day, I started to ask myself some important questions and do a lot of soul-searching.

And it all boiled down to this:

Was I done trying to have another child, and if not, then what was I going to do about it?

Before my last transfer, I said I was at peace with whatever happened. If my transfer didn't work, I could be happy with my two boys and leave the treatments behind me. But now that I had to face that reality, I wasn't so sure anymore.

I remember watching my two boys playing in my living room. I tried to envision another child there. Was it too much to add one more? No. On the contrary, it felt more complete. I felt that determination rise up in me again. I did want another child, yes, and it was up to me to make it happen.

But how?

My biggest concern was time. Because of all the time it took to start our family, Nick and I were already a little older than planned and getting into the range where we wanted to be done having kids. Going into another set of treatments, I knew it might take awhile before we'd have success, even a few years maybe. At our age, that meant there was no time to lose! If we wanted another child, we needed to start now.

Along the same lines, my fertility was on the decline and it wasn't too high to start with. Once a woman hits 35, her fertility begins to decrease. I was just a few months from that, so I needed to be proactive if I wanted to give us the best possible chance.



I'd originally planned to take a more casual approach. Perhaps we could try some fertility pills and just see how that went. But looking at the time we had against us, I didn't feel comfortable with that. It was possible for us to get pregnant, yes, but it could take years, especially considering my egg quality. We just couldn't risk that kind of time.

No, if I wanted to do this, I needed to be more aggressive, and that meant IVF.

I still remember my conversation with Nick. I had to ask him if having another baby was something we both wanted. If we were going to move forward with treatments, I had to know we were both on board. He seemed to hesitate a little when I asked him about it. That's when I realized how badly I wanted a baby. If he said no, I'd be crushed to have to put it all to rest!

But he said yes!

Thank goodness we could even talk about doing IVF. It's just so expensive and so many people can't afford it. Many of our past treatments were funded by friends and family looking to help us out, and we were always so grateful.

But circumstances had changed for us, all for the better. Just a few months before, we’d been blessed with a new job for Nick. The offer came completely out of the blue and the pay was so good, we thought it was a scam! But Nick looked into it, submitted a resume, and they hired him on the spot. With the new job and the new pay, we could talk about treatments without wondering how in the world we were going to afford such hefty payments. It was such a blessing and so nice to have some of the stress taken away.

But we did have some concerns about doing IVF. First, we could end up with nothing. We could pay the big bucks, do all the shots and procedures, and end up walking away with no baby. It certainly does happen and it could happen to us. It's always a roll of the dice. So we had to ask ourselves if we were willing to do multiple treatments for this. Could we go deeper and deeper in debt to make this happen?

On the flip side, our other concern was making more embryos than we wanted. We could go through the treatments, have a baby, and still have embryos left over. That meant more transfers and possibly more kids. Were we willing to take that risk and end up with a bigger family than planned?

We went over our options and weighed all the risks. I felt that, realistically, it could take us two or three treatments to get our next baby, but not more, and we felt that was something we could do. I also felt it highly unlikely that we'd make more than two babies - three at most - with another round of treatments, and we were willing to take that risk too.

Of course, I had to complicate things and start researching other doctors. I was perfectly happy with my current doctor but I'd heard a lot of great things about another clinic in the area and thought it was worth checking out.

I ended up meeting with three different doctors at the clinic and thought they were all fantastic. But the last doctor really impressed me. She spent a lot of time talking with me and going over all my questions and concerns. She was such a good listener! She showed me so much compassion and seemed genuinely interested in my case.

After our first conversation, she emailed me directly to make sure I felt comfortable moving forward with her. I was so impressed by her care and we continued to email throughout my treatment. Having that direct communication with my doctor made all the difference moving forward. I was getting good medical care and sincere emotional support, and that was very reassuring.

A Second Attempt

We had a new clinic and a new doctor picked out. We had our finances in order and a new loan lined up. We were ready to start another round of IVF and wanted to get going as soon as possible.

I was actually a bit hesitant about the timing. We were shooting to do treatments at the end of March, and that would mean a baby right around Christmas. I always tried to avoid that outcome. Seems like a Christmas birthday would be kinda hard. But Nick and I both agreed we weren’t getting any younger, so it was best to use any available month we had to get things going.

I wanted to throw everything we could into this next round. If it worked on our first try, we wouldn't have to keep throwing more money into more treatments! I already knew that my eggs weren’t the greatest and now I had my advancing age against me as well. So I asked every doctor I could about how to increase my egg quality and increase my chances.

One of the doctors prescribed a laundry list of supplements for me to take throughout the day. It was kind of exhausting to pop so many pills - about fifteen each day - but it helped me feel like I was being proactive.

I also took metformin which helps to regulate insulin. Some people with PCOS take it and have good results, but it wasn't conclusive how much it helped. I figured if it had any chance of helping at all, even the smallest chance, then it was worth trying.

We also added human growth hormone. You inject it a few days before retrieving your eggs and it's one of the only things proven to help egg quality. Many people hesitate to take it, though, because of the extra cost. It's a lot of money! But I figured the cost was worth it. Better to pay extra now then pay a lot more later to start treatments all over again.

We got eggs out on March 25th and I was thrilled to find out we’d gotten 32 eggs! This was my third time retrieving eggs and my highest number yet! I felt hopeful and certain we’d be able to make at least one baby with all those eggs! Woo hoo! We were off to a great start!

The next day, I got an email from my doctor. She said she still felt hopeful, but she wasn’t sure why only seven of my eggs had fertilized.

Wait, what!? 

I got 32 eggs and only seven had fertilized!? SEVEN!? How did this happen?

We pay extra to have an embryologist pick out the best-looking sperm and inject them into the eggs. So this wasn't a matter of a sperm not finding its way to the egg. It means the sperm were injected into the eggs and the eggs just fell apart.

It’s normal for this to happen to a few of the eggs, maybe 20-30 percent. But to lose well over half right out the gate was definitely not normal. It was devastating.

I was reeling from the news. I would have never predicted this outcome, even as a worst case scenario. Suddenly my certainty was falling apart. I felt so sure we'd be getting a baby from all this. Now it seemed more likely that I'd end up with nothing.

My doctor called me right after I read her email. She was trying her best to reassure me, to tell me we still had reason to hope. It was true, of course. Plenty of people end up with just one or two embryos and those embryos still make babies. But I still felt shattered by the sudden loss of so many. It was hard to feel hopeful.

I did appreciate how concerned and committed she was, that she was trying so hard to give me some hope to hold on to. She assured me that if things didn't work out, she would find a way for us to move forward with more treatments. She would find discounts for us and waive fees wherever she could, anything and everything to make it affordable. I was so impressed she would do that for us, and I felt so lucky to have her on my team. It did ease my mind a bit, knowing how committed she was in helping us out and seeing us succeed.

After the eggs get fertilized, they watch them grow and develop for five days, then transfer the surviving embryos back into the uterus, usually one or two at a time. If you have any embryos left over, you can freeze them for later use.

On the third day, they call you and tell you how many embryos are still progressing. There are usually quite a few embryos still growing and dividing at that point. They like to see an embryo have eight cells on the third day, and they’re also looking for how well the embryos are staying intact. Little fragments can start sloughing off the embryo, which can sometimes mean an embryo is less stable. Shape is important too. The embryos can get a bit wonky, and the round ones seem to do best.

I was at the store when my doctor called with my Day 3 report. I was so anxious for the call, to hear how my embryos were doing. I paced up and down the aisles as she told me the news. The report wasn't bad but it wasn't great either.

All seven of them were still growing and dividing, so that was good. But only two or three were right on target. All the others were off in one way or another, and I knew from experience that those were unlikely to make it. That meant I could reasonably expect to have one, two, or three embryos on Day 5, but I needed to prepare myself for the horrible possibility of no embryos at all.

The whole thing was really getting me down. My hopes of having this all work out the first time around were looking more and more like a far-fetched idea.

I was trying to keep a positive perspective. Whatever happened, I felt lucky and grateful to have my two boys. I'd won this battle twice now and I knew I could win it again. So far, things were looking pretty bleak. But we had resources and we had determination and we were getting a lot of support, and I felt so blessed for that.

But I really struggled that night. I had asked my doctor to email me pictures of the embryos, along with details about them. I got her email just before heading into my watercolor class. I sat in my car and looked through the pictures, and it hit me just how slim my chances were. I'd been telling myself that maybe I'd get lucky. Maybe I'd still end up with four or five embryos to work with in the end. That was the number I'd been hoping for from the get go, because it takes that many embryos for me to make a baby! But looking at those embryos, I knew that only one or two were going to make it, and that wasn't much to work with. I was devastated.

I went into my watercolor class, sat down, and tried to paint. But I was really hurting inside. Why did this have to be so hard? I’d done everything I could to try and make this work. We'd been shooting for the best possible outcome, but were now in this nightmare instead. Why?

Did I mess myself up with the human growth hormone? Did all the supplements put my body into a funk? Maybe I should have been in better shape! Should I have eaten better? Should I have exercised more?

It’s all a mystery, all a guess. I just sat there and wondered what more I could have done, what I did wrong, and whether any of my efforts made any difference at all.

I felt so horribly down. I couldn't focus. Painting was impossible. I just wanted to go home.

I tried to slip out quietly from my art class. I didn't want to make a scene or talk to anyone. But with only a handful of students, it was hard to leave unnoticed. I got up, said I wasn’t feeling well, and left as quick as I could.

But my cute art teacher came after me. She asked if I was alright and I couldn’t help it. I just burst into tears. I knew I had to provide some explanation at that point, so I told her about my attempts at getting pregnant. I talked about how I’d just found out that things weren’t looking good, how we'd spent all this money on what was likely to be a complete failure, and how horrible it would be to have to start all over again.

She was very sweet. She gave me a hug and said she would pray for me. It really touched me that she was concerned enough to follow me, check in with me, and listen to my story.

I got all my crying out in the car on the way home. I knew this might be hard, but this was a really rough start.

I was on pins and needles waiting to see how many of my embryos survived to Day 5. I was scheduled to come in for an embryo transfer on March 30th. I took it as a good sign that they didn't call me beforehand and say, “Don’t bother coming in. You have no embryos left.” I figured I had at least one embryo, or they wouldn't have me keep the appointment!

I got to the clinic for my transfer and the doctor came in with my embryo report. My prediction was spot on. We had two good-quality embryos. To go from 32 eggs down to two embryos was a very sad drop in numbers and far less than I'd hoped for. But at that point, I was happy to have anything at all.

In the past, we'd always transferred two embryos at a time. I never thought much about it. I just figured if it increased our chances, then we should do it. In the past, I'd actually hoped for a twin pregnancy. If I could get a 2-for-1 pregnancy, it would help me "catch up" to the family I always wanted.

But my perspective had changed recently. There'd been a conversation in my infertility group about the risks of twin pregnancies. I'd heard some very heartbreaking stories. Plus, I already had two little kids and was shooting for just one more at the moment. I wasn't so sure I was wanting four kids, and if I was, I wasn't so sure I wanted them all at once!

Still, it felt weird to put in one at a time. It's just not how we did things. So I hesitated.

My doctor saw me struggle with what to do. She said something that completely blew me away. She said if we transferred one embryo and it didn't work out, she'd waive the cost of my next transfer. She didn't want us to put two embryos in just so we wouldn't have to pay for another transfer. I was amazed she would do that for us.

So we decided to transfer one embryo and freeze the other. Although one of the embryos was a bit of an odd shape, it was graded a little higher, so that's the one we used.

Here I am waiting and ready for my embryo. I posted my updates on the infertility community and continued to receive lots of love, prayers, and support.

The thing about an embryo is that you really have no clue whether it's viable or not just by looking at it. It might look good on the outside, but it's the DNA that counts, and you need more than a microscope to check the DNA. If you want to pay the extra money, you can have your embryos tested. They can get a tiny sample of the embryo, check the DNA, and let you know if everything checks out. If not, then you're looking at an embryo that won't stick or won't last long if it does.

I've never done the test, but I know it's pretty common for about half of all embryos to be abnormal. If you end up with six embryos to test, then it'd be reasonable to expect about two, three, or four of those embryos to be abnormal.

Based on my history, I'd guess my percentage to be a bit higher. I'd be willing to bet that around 70 percent of my embryos are abnormal. It's why I was hoping for four or five embryos to work with, all for the hopes of just one baby. It takes that many embryos to make something viable - something that sticks and stays - at least in my case, anyway.

The sad reality was, with just these two embryos, I knew my chances of getting a baby were fairly slim. These two embryos could very well be abnormal and that would leave me with nothing at all. It was depressing to think about.

They call it the two week wait, that time between an embryo transfer and finding out whether that embryo stuck. For most people, it’s slow and tortuous. But it’s quite a bit easier when you’re so occupied with little children. There just isn't enough time to dwell on it.

What can be hard, though, are the symptoms. If you have no symptoms, then you worry that nothing worked. But if you do have symptoms, then you worry your body is faking you out. You’re taking a bunch of hormones, so you don’t know whether it’s the hormones talking or if your body is really pregnant! Or, even worse, are these symptoms of pregnancy or an impending period? Ugh!

I've been faked out so many times that I’ve learned to ignore most of the symptoms. This time, I had some slight cramping and a little nausea. The nausea really threw me and I found myself hoping a little. Then the symptoms went away and I went back to feeling depressed.

Just like my previous transfer, I was starting to believe that this one didn’t work. I broke my rule again and took a pregnancy test. Negative. I took another one a few days later. Negative.

I went into the clinic for my blood test. The needle poke isn't so bad when you think you might be pregnant. Take my blood! Give me answers! But when you know it's a negative anyway, it all kind of sucks.

This was my first transfer with the new clinic, and I discovered their horrible tendency to make you wait all day for your results. I just wanted that phone call so we could be done with it! I was cooking dinner, wondering if they'd forgotten all about me, when I finally got the call. Negative. Yes, I knew that. Bye.

I would have burst into tears, but my mother-in-law was hanging out with us that evening. She knew nothing about it and I wanted to keep it that way. Instead I hung up, kept cooking, and choked down my sadness and anger.

Now we had just one embryo left. Again! Here we were just three months later and we were right back where we started, with everything hanging on this one last try. It was aggravating, nerve-wracking, and very discouraging.

Our Third Attempt

I knew there was nothing I could do to help that final embryo be any more viable. Either the DNA was good or it wasn't. But I decided I could eat healthier. I didn’t know for sure if that helped or not, but I figured it was worth a shot. Plus, it never hurts to get in better shape, no matter the reason.

I actually ran a fitness challenge for that very purpose. I was hoping to lose a bit of weight and put that one final embryo into a healthy body. I did have success with the fitness challenge and got myself feeling a whole lot better both mentally and physically.

My next transfer was June 11^th. One final embryo, one final try. If it didn’t work out, we’d have to start all over again. There was a lot of pressure but I was so very busy at the time that I didn’t dwell on it much. I was in a place of acceptance too. There was nothing more I could do to make this work, so why stress over it? I just went through the motions and hoped for the best.



Here I am at the clinic for my transfer, a picture I posted to my infertility group to let them know I was moving forward. I was actually there by myself this time, but I'd done so many transfers, it was pretty routine at that point.

Now we were back on another two week wait.

My summer was packed with trips and activities, from one adventure to the next. It was very busy, but very fun, and a great distraction from all this infertility business.

One of our biggest trips came just after my transfer. We drove out to California to spend time with family there. We visited my mom at her home in Sacramento and we all went camping along the coast. We had a good time, but it did make things a little interesting. Here I was driving and camping all over California, waiting to find out if I was pregnant.

I was at my mom's house in California when I was due for my blood test. It was the day before the test, and I remember looking in the mirror and feeling a sudden surge of hope. I was starting to suspect I might actually be pregnant!

Some of it was just a feeling, this unexpected hope that stirred inside me. But part of it came because I had no fake symptoms! I felt perfectly normal and perfectly fine and that actually made me wonder if it worked!

Funny enough, that made me nervous too. Getting my hopes up always feels dangerous. It makes the fall so much harder when things don't work out. I'd learned to keep my expectations and emotions in check over the years. It was always best to try and stay neutral, kind of a "hope for the best, prepare for the worst" type thing.

But these feelings came all on their own and really surprised me. I definitely felt different this time, and I couldn't stop the optimism from sweeping through me.

They’d given me a lab sheet to take with me on my trip. I found a lab near my mom’s house in Sacramento and got my blood drawn there. They called later with the results and it was good news! I was pregnant! Wow, my intuition had been pretty on point these last few transfers! I felt pregnant and I was right!

But there was a bit of a problem. The numbers were low. With the pregnancy hormone, they like your number to be somewhere near 100. Mine was 32.

I didn’t know what to feel. Of course, I was happy. One way or another, I was pregnant and had a chance. Even a faint positive is better than a negative. But it was hard to feel any excitement or relief. I didn't know if my numbers would go up or if this was a sign of impending miscarriage. I tried to stay neutral and calm because there was no way of knowing, and no way of controlling the outcome. I just had to be patient and wait.

They wanted me to test again in two days. In a healthy pregnancy, your hormones will double every 48 hours, so that's what we wanted to see. If we saw the numbers double, I'd be able to breathe a little easier and feel more confident about the pregnancy.

The wait was a little agonizing, but I had lots to distract me, thank goodness. My mom has a lovely pool and I spent a lot of time swimming in it with my kids and my nieces and nephews, trying to stay cool. We were also getting ready for a big camping trip and had lots of prep work to do. So I kept myself busy and my mind occupied.



The time came and I got my blood work done. I was so anxious for that call! It finally came and they had some good news! My numbers had jumped from a 32 to a 79! This was a great sign, exactly what we needed! 

Finally, I could do a little happy dance. There was good reason to hope now, so I cracked that door open and let a little hope seep in. This might really happen. This might really result in a baby!

But it wasn't over yet. They wanted to be extra sure things were progressing right. We hadn't hit those triple digits yet, so they asked me test again in two days.

Which happened to be the very day we were on the road to our camping spot. What an adventure!

I had to find myself a phlebotomist en route to our campsite. I found a clinic and got my blood drawn there and wondered if I'd even get the results. We were driving along the coast all day, with my signal in and out throughout the drive. I just hoped they'd leave a voicemail if they couldn't get ahold of me.

At one point, we pulled off the road to stop at the shop by the ocean. I actually had a little bit of coverage at the shop, and just so happened to get the call right then! Hooray for good timing!

But I had to brace myself. Was it good news or bad?

It was good! YES! My numbers had jumped from 79 to 374! Wow! Not only had they doubled, but they'd actually quadrupled! This was fantastic news and very exciting. My mom and sister-in-law were there with me and cheered at the news. We’d had a rocky start but now we were soaring forward and I could put my worries to rest.

It had worked! I was pregnant! My last chance embryo had come through!

And now I was out in the woods giving myself progesterone shots in a tent! Ha! But it was a magical time and I felt so happy. I turned 35 just a few days later and felt I couldn’t have asked for a better present than this, especially those unbeatable numbers!

I was due at the end of February and was really looking forward to telling everyone. I was especially anxious to tell my mother-in-law. I’d purposely kept her out of the loop so I could have the joy of sharing the news with her, and with all my in-laws. Sharing a surprise pregnancy announcement was something we’d not been able to do, since we’d always been pretty public about our treatments. So this was our big chance!

I was thinking of telling my mother-in-law on her birthday at the end of August. That'd be right at the end of my first trimester, so the timing would be perfect. How fun would that be?

The First Ultrasound

When you're trying for a baby, you have to make your way through all these check points to get to the end. So far, I had passed all the check points involved in conception. I'd made some eggs, gotten them fertilized, made a few healthy embryos, and now was pregnant with good numbers. It feels good to graduate from one step to the next and it's certainly worth celebrating.

But you're always looking at the next phase ahead of you, the next test to pass. You get more hopeful as you go along, but you're still pretty scared. You made it this far, yes, but there were no guarantees until you brought that baby home.

I had all that conception business behind me, and now had to face the next test: the first ultrasound. This was one of the biggest tests of all. If you saw a baby and a healthy heartbeat, you had the roughest patch behind you.

We got home from our California trip and had to wait patiently until that first appointment. It was hard not to tell anyone about the pregnancy. We had a family gathering on the fourth of July and I was so close to telling someone I was pregnant. But it feels super scary to even speak it aloud. It's like it's something so sacred and magical that you worry speaking of it will somehow jinx it and it'll all come crashing down.

No, I wouldn't be saying anything to anyone until I passed my next test and had a good ultrasound. In fact, it was going to take a few months and a few ultrasounds before I felt comfortable spilling the beans.

I remember driving to my first ultrasound with Nick and feeling so glad that I’d made it this far. It was July 11th and I was seven weeks along. I was actually very calm about everything. There was no cause for worry anyway, no cramping or bleeding. And I had those high numbers from my final blood test too.

Nick asked me if I felt worried about the ultrasound and his question surprised me. Everything seemed fine thus far, so I felt pretty confident all was well. I was being careful not to tell anyone, of course. We still had a few more check points to pass before that happened. But I didn't have any reason to worry, so I felt pretty at ease, actually.

But I did feel a bit anxious once I got in for the ultrasound. What we needed was to see a heartbeat, a flicker on the screen.

And, thank goodness, it was there! We saw a little tiny baby on the screen and the nurse pointed to a heartbeat inside. There was a living being inside of me after all. I may have walked into that appointment all calm and cool, but I was still very relieved to see that baby.

But our relief was very short-lived.

The nurse measured the heartbeat and told us it was beating a little slow. It wasn't anything too alarming, she said, but it wasn't ideal either. Then she measured the baby, and that was off too. The nurse told us the baby was a whole week behind. I was trying to be hopeful, but this was all sounding pretty off.

And it only got worse. The nurse measured the yolk sac and that was too big. I knew a big yolk sac was a very bad sign, as if we didn't have enough going wrong already. And the gestational sac wasn't right either. Four measurements, all of them wrong.

There was nothing definitive. Not yet. But it all looked very bleak. Just like that, my confidence crumbled and turned into dread. Turns out this ship I was sailing was poorly built and falling apart.



The nurse was very calm and neutral. She didn't shut us down, but she didn't sound too hopeful either. It was all inconclusive, but I knew enough. I knew we needed to prepare ourselves for a miscarriage. It wasn't guaranteed but it sure seemed to be heading that direction.

It’s very difficult to prepare yourself for a tragedy when you aren’t quite certain it’s coming. I had to wait another week for my next ultrasound, and it was a rough week. I was scared every time I went to the bathroom. Was I in the clear, or would I see signs of a miscarriage? Every morning, I'd do my injection. I was giving myself progesterone to help support my pregnancy, but for all I knew, that pregnancy was already over. And all throughout the week, from moment to moment, I kept wondering if that little heart was still beating or if it had already beat its last beat.

I was on edge, waiting for the ax to fall. I worried. I wondered. But the week went by and nothing happened.

It was July 18th and I drove myself to my next appointment. If the news was bad, I wanted to face it alone. I remember sitting in the parking lot wondering how to even prepare myself. I just prayed to God that I could feel at peace with whatever happened.

My doctor was there at the appointment. She's such a sweetheart and I knew she wanted to be there to support me, whatever the outcome.

We started the ultrasound and right away I could tell things weren't right. I saw my yolk sac and it was huge, quite a bit larger than last time. I knew that was a very bad sign. A big yolk sac is almost always a guaranteed miscarriage.

Then we took a look at the baby. It had barely grown and there was no heartbeat. My baby was gone.

I wanted a different outcome, but this came as no surprise. I had a rocky start with the numbers, a very discouraging ultrasound, and a history of pregnancy loss. Because of that, I felt very prepared to lose this baby. My doctor was sad and seemed genuinely crushed. She told me, "I know you were ready for this, but I wasn't." Yes, I was prepared, and I felt surprisingly calm.

No more hoping and wondering anymore. It was over now. The ship had sunk and I could leave it be.

I went into another room with my doctor so we could talk. I was wanting to go over what we would do next. This was my last embryo, so we were back to square one and I hated having no plan to move forward. I wanted to get right to it and figure something out.

But my doctor shut me down. She said she wanted me to take time to grieve before we discussed anything else and made any plans. We could reconvene at a later time.

She then asked me whether I wanted surgery to remove the pregnancy or if I wanted to pass it on my own. I've miscarried a few times before. It was always horribly painful and unpleasant - a living nightmare. So it was an easy answer for me. I'd rather have the surgery, for sure.

If we did the surgery, it gave us a chance to send the tissue out for testing. They could look at the DNA and let us know if there was something abnormal going on. Perhaps we'd find some answers about why we lost the baby.

My doctor wanted to be the one doing the surgery. We scheduled it for early the next morning so she could be there. She and I wanted it done quickly so we could avoid me miscarrying on my own. It was touching how she made sure to take care of me. I knew she was moving her schedule around to be there for me.

I got home from my ultrasound and started to feel a lot more upset. It wasn't so much about the pregnancy. This child had been mine for just a moment and I felt so prepared for the loss. But I was feeling so angry at how hard this journey had been, all the treatments and failures and loss and all the emotional turmoil that comes with it. After all I'd been through over the years, this was getting very tiring.

I wrote an email to my doctor to explain how I was feeling:

"I did anticipate the loss and I did keep myself detached from the pregnancy (as I always do), especially over the last week. It wasn’t so much this particular loss that I grieve. It's all of it. That this whole cycle was an unexpected bust, that I now had no more embryos, and that all of this seems so much harder than it should be.

When I finally had Gavin, I vividly remember being in the NICU with him just a day or two after he was born and sitting by his tiny body and feeling just how wondrous and magical it was, this perfectly adorable little miracle that was my very own. And I had an unexpected sadness come over me as I finally felt the loss of the seven embryos before him that didn’t make it, those children who’s little toes I never got to count, who’s little hands I never got to hold. I wept as I fully realized all the magic I’d missed.

And that’s how I feel today as I look back on all of this. I’ve given 13 embryos a chance at becoming a part of our family. 13 embryos and only two have made it. I’ve lost 11 embryos and I would have been happy if even ONE of those 11 was in my arms right now. One out of 11.

I grieve for the one I lost today and I grieve for all of my lost children. I grieve for this whole experience that has taken away my choices and my dreams."

I laid on my bed and sobbed. Gavin came in and was concerned about me. He laid next to me on the bed and put his arm around me. I didn’t want him to see me so sad, so I told him he should go and play with his toys. But he told me he needed to be with me until I felt better. It was really very tender. He knew I was upset and wanted to be there for me.

I felt so grateful for him, for his tenderness and compassion. No matter what, I still had these two boys and I knew I was lucky to have them.

He fell asleep holding on to me while I wept. I cried because of this road I was on, but I also cried in gratitude for this little arm around me and this gentle boy beside me.

My dad took me to my surgery early the next morning. I remember lying on that bed in the fertility clinic, waiting for surgery, and feeling a little angry that every single procedure at the clinic is performed on that same bed! "How tragic," I thought, "that I’ve laid in this exact same spot three different times now - once to get this egg out of me, another time to put it back in, and now here I was back on that stupid bed to take the egg out again!" I was really starting to hate that room and that bed.

We got our results back from the surgery and found out we'd lost a little boy. He had a chromosomal abnormality, trisomy 18, or Edwards Syndrome, which is one of the most common reasons for miscarriage. If the baby survives til birth, they rarely live long after that - a few moments, a few hours, maybe a few months in rare cases. It was helpful knowing there was a reason for the loss. He was mine for a moment, but was never meant to stay.

I recovered easily from the surgery and was left feeling grateful. Grateful for my two miraculous boys, grateful for the care of my doctor, and grateful we had the means to keep trying for a baby.

A Different Approach

As painful as it was, we geared up for more treatments. We knew it might take a few tries, so we had to keep going and believe it would work. The clock just kept ticking so I moved right on forward.

I decided I'd try again in October, a few more months down the line. My doctor took the time to review my medical history, pages and pages of notes and tests and reports from all my previous treatments. She was trying to find any clues on what might work better this next time around.



One thing we knew for sure: I didn't have a problem with egg count. Each time we got my eggs out, I had plenty to work with, usually somewhere between 25 and 30 altogether. It wasn't an issue of numbers, no. It was the caliber that was in question. Over the last few years, I'd gotten nearly 80 eggs out. And out of all those eggs, I'd gotten just two babies. Those were some pretty sad numbers. So my doctor wanted to try something different so we could emphasize quality over quantity.

Looking over my history, my doctor thought it might be worth a shot to see if less hormones would result in better eggs, a method called a mini-IVF.

Normally, the more hormones you take, the more eggs you get. One of the primary goals of IVF is to grow as many eggs as possible. The more eggs you have, the greater your chances for making a baby.

And yet, they've seen some patients have more success in cutting back on the hormones. You may end up with fewer eggs, yes, but perhaps see an increase in quality. That's the theory anyway, that too many hormones may be causing more harm than good, almost like over-watering a plant. In cutting back, you allow the eggs to develop in a more natural way. That is the approach of a mini-IVF. You lower the dose of hormones and hope for healthier eggs.

My doctor believed this was worth a try, and I thought so too. I wasn't too impressed with my track record thus far, so I was all in favor of shaking things up. As a bonus, a mini-IVF is significantly cheaper and cut our costs in half. This made treatment much more affordable, which came as a huge relief. We were happy to skip the crushing bill this time around.

We were going for simple and natural, so we scrapped all the extras from last time, the supplements and human growth hormone and all that. You take a hormone specific for growing eggs, and I took a lower dose than usual there. When I started doing IVF a few years ago, I was taking 450 units of hormones each day. With my second and third rounds of IVF, we lowered the dose to 225 units, cutting it in half. Now we were down to 150 units each day with the mini-IVF.

I wondered how my eggs would react. I felt nervous I'd end up with very few eggs because of the lower dose, even less than we planned. I didn't want to end up with only a few to work with. I was also nervous that this was all so experimental. There were no guarantees this would get me better eggs or make me better embryos. But it felt good to be trying something different anyway.

I felt desperate to focus on my health again. I'd had a busy summer plus the pregnancy too, so I'd fallen off the wagon and gained back some weight. I was trying to figure out what to do when my stepsister reach out to me. She was joining a fitness challenge and asked if I’d like to be her partner. I looked up the details and saw that the challenge ended the day before my egg retrieval at the end of October. I honestly felt the hand of God helping me out there. I really needed to get my butt in gear and the timing was so perfect. I always feel better knowing my embryos were going into a healthy body, so of course I said yes and the two of us joined the competition.

The fitness challenge really paid off. I worked really hard and ended up losing over 20 pounds in just eight weeks. I was feeling pretty awesome at the end. One of my favorite moments was running eight miles on the last day of the challenge. It was so magical to run so far and feel no fatigue. I felt light and fit and healthy. I love that feeling! It’s exhilarating and empowering.

Now I had done all I could and was ready to try for another baby.

Moving and Treatments

But a whole lot happened all at once and our lives got a little bit crazy!

It was the middle of August and I was out in California again, this time for a work trip for Nick. I was staying with my mom and helping her demolish her kitchen. It was tough work but satisfying too.



While I was there, I searched through the latest home listings online. I'd been looking for six months, trying to find us something closer to Hill Air Force Base where Nick works. His new job was quite a bit farther from home and he'd been commuting an hour to and from work each day. That got old fast.

I'd been very picky in my search. There were a few houses that had come so close, but I couldn't ever bring myself to put an offer in. We'd moved ten times in our twelve years of marriage and I was ready to settle down for the long term. So I wanted something I absolutely loved. But I'd had so many walk-thrus that I was starting to wonder if the home I wanted even existed.

But I did and I found it! I finally found it!

I looked through the listing and could tell right away that this home had a whole lot of what I wanted. It was close to work, close to the freeway, and close to amenities. It had a big open yard where my kids could play, which was a huge plus for me. I loved that I could see the whole yard from inside my house so I could keep an eye on the kids out there. There was a huge covered patio too, so we could relax outside in the shade and perhaps host outdoor parties someday. There were plenty of bedrooms too, so we'd never feel too cramped in the home. And I loved the layout with its big open spaces and unique little alcoves. I was so excited about this house!

Too bad I was out of town, dang it! But I had my agent and sister-in-law check it out for me. They sent me videos and I knew right away. This was the home I'd been looking for.

We made an offer and went under contract. And now there was work to do! We had to get our own home on the market, which was a bit of a stress. There were a few home projects that needed to be done and I had to do them quickly. We got home from California and I wasted no time. I went straight to my backyard and started pulling weeds. I worked like mad to get everything ready, with late nights spent cleaning and contractors coming and going to fix things up.



It took me two weeks to get everything prepped and get our home listed. We ended up listing at a pretty bad time. It was Labor Day weekend. Everyone was out of town and getting back into the swing of things with the new school year. There was a very noticeable slow down in the market and I kicked myself for not being able to get my home up sooner.

We spent a few weeks with very little interest on the home. I started to worry we wouldn’t be able to sell it quickly and we'd lose the contract on our new home. I hated to lose this dream house of mine after all the searching I'd done!

But it wasn't so bad. We had it up three weeks when we got our first offer. They loved our home and the offer was good, so we said yes right away. I was so happy to be moving forward, and especially thrilled that the buyers loved our home. It made everything feel so right.

Things were going well at first. Then we ran into kink after kink. Hiccups and delays were coming at us left and right, and all from other buyers and sellers. It seemed like every update was more bad news, another reason for another delay. It was incredibly frustrating, and our hands were tied. All we could do was wait for all the pieces to fall into place.

With our closing date continually moving all over the calendar, it became quite a challenge to pin down a good date for treatments. I didn't want to end up moving the same day as my egg retrieval!

My original plan was to do my retrieval at the end of October, but we'd all agreed to close on the house at that time. So I called up my nurse and moved treatments back a week. Now my plan was to move at the end of October, and do my retrieval November 6th.

Well, guess what happened? Our closing date got pushed back again and again, inching closer and closer to my retrieval date! But it was too late to change anything now. I'd already started injections, so we were on a set course and there was no turning back. I was just going to have to work with whatever happened.

Every day was a nail-biting experience. I was just waiting and hoping that everything would fall into place so we could get this move over with!

So, there I was, frantically cleaning my house, boxing everything up, giving myself injections, going into the fertility clinic again and again for check-ups and blood draws, all while trying to keep myself as calm as possible. No need to douse my eggs in stress hormones, right?



We ended up going in for my egg retrieval early in the morning on November 6th, then going straight over to sign closing documents after that! Yes, I had literally just woken up from general anesthesia and was then required to sign my name again and again, page after page, to wrap things up with the house. I was happy I had the wherewithal to do it, and was beyond thrilled to get it over with!

The egg retrieval went well. My doctor was booked for the day, so she asked if I could come in extra early so she could be the one to do my retrieval. I love how much she wants to be involved in the care of her patients, even though any other doctor could have done it.

We left at 5:30 in the morning so we could get there on time for my 6:30 appointment. It was a very early morning and I was tired, so I was actually looking forward to going under. I could use a nap, thank you. Take my money and knock me out!

I was anxious to find out how many eggs we'd end up with. I'd been on a lower dose this time, so we expected fewer eggs. But we'd been monitoring me on ultrasound over the last week, and had actually seen quite a few eggs growing. I was excited to see that. Perhaps we could get the best of both worlds here! Perhaps we could still get a good amount of eggs and end up with better quality too. That was my hope, anyway.

We ended up with 28 eggs and I was thrilled! It was awesome to see my eggs respond so well to the hormones, even at such a low dose. All this time I'd been drowning my ovaries in far more hormones than they needed. Maybe this lower dose was my ticket to better eggs after all!

I figured if our quality wasn’t any better, we still had a good amount to work with this time, and that was an unexpected bonus. Now we had our next test - fertilization - and I hoped with all my heart that it would go better this time. Let's not lose so many eggs right off the bat, shall we? Let's keep these numbers up and have something hopeful to work with.

I updated my infertility group about my egg retrieval. After all I'd been through over the past year, I'd come to know many of the members in the group. It was neat to have such love and support from people who'd been following my story from the very beginning. I'd built friendships with these people and we were all there pulling for each other.

"Had my 4th egg retrieval early this morning, in my continued effort to build my family. This year has been a bit of a battle, with two failed transfers, pregnancy loss at 8 weeks, and an egg retrieval that resulted in nearly all my eggs falling apart at fertilization. Hoping for a better outcome this time! But we got 28 eggs and that’s a great start! Y’all have been so supportive, so thank you for that. I’ll keep updates on this thread, so comment if you want to ride this rollercoaster with me."

Thank the stars, things worked out better this time. My fertilization rate was still lower than usual but much better than last time. I’d gotten 32 eggs with my last retrieval and only seven had fertilized. This time, we got 28 eggs and had 14 of them fertilize. It was a little crushing to lose so many again, but at least we were working with twice as many embryos than last time! Woo hoo!

Now we had to see how many would make it to Day 5. On to the next phase, another few days of waiting and wondering.

Meanwhile, our other waiting game – the house - was finally coming to a close. Finally, everything was signed and paid for and we could move into our new home. Just three days after my egg retrieval, we rented a few trucks and started loading up our stuff. We had a lot of people show up to help and I was sure grateful for that!

Sometimes after an egg retrieval, your insides get really sore. It’s like a horrible blend of menstrual cramps, indigestion, and gas, all roiling around inside of you at the same time. It’s debilitating and I was right in the thick of it during our move.

To add insult to injury, I had started another set of injections as part of my treatment. Each morning, I gave myself a shot in the bum with a good-sized needle, so my bum was very sore and unhappy. Only then do you realize how much you use your butt muscles! Walking was hard, sitting down was hard, standing up was hard, and stairs were just plain torture.

So here it was finally time to move and I was a borderline cripple! Thank goodness for those helpers!

My clinic called that very evening, just as our helpers were heading home. I’d been so anxious for the call, hoping for good news! It was my Day 3 report so I’d find out how many of my embryos were still progressing.

The report was so much better than I'd hoped for! They told me I had 16 embryos still progressing! Wait, what? I thought I had only 14 that fertilized. These numbers can't be right. I started to worry they were making a mistake and giving me someone else’s embryo report!

I found out there were a few embryos they'd been unsure about in the beginning. If they don't see an embryo start to divide, then they assume it's a dud and didn't fertilize properly. When they went to check back on my embryos, a few of the so-called duds had started to divide after all! So I actually had more embryos than I thought, and they were all still progressing! Not only that, but a lot of those embryos were looking perfect so far, with just the right number of cells. This was excellent news, even better than I hoped for. In fact, I was starting to feel a little concerned. What if this all backfired and I ended up with more embryos than I needed!?

We moved the next day, November 10th, and I basically just waddled around giving orders all day. I wasn’t even supposed to be lifting anything anyway, so I made sure not to. But it was hard to just sit on the sidelines and feel useless. Not everyone knew about our treatments so I worried they'd be wondering why I was so unhelpful. To make things more suspicious, I was walking around like a penguin. My butt was so incredibly sore, it was near-impossible for me to walk normal, no matter how hard I tried. I may have gotten a few raised eyebrows throughout the move, what with my inactivity and bizarre hip movements.



I’ll never forget walking up the stairs with my best friend behind me, who was there to help with my move. Out of the blue, she gave me a friendly slap on the butt. It was a pretty good slap and landed right on my injection site! Holy mackerel, it hurt! And the shock of it added to the pain. I screamed and then tried to laugh it off. She'd been kept in the dark about my treatments, so obviously the scream was a little dramatic for someone who didn't know. I told her she just surprised me real good! We'd been friends for nearly 20 years and had given each other plenty of butt swats in all that time, but that was one for the books.

Moving made for a very long day. I was so glad when everyone left and I could finally sit and relax. The first thing I did was take a bath in my new master tub. My previous house had a deluxe master shower, which was very nice. But I did miss having my own bathtub and I was sure happy to go ahead and use it now!

It was an excellent bath, but my insides flared up like crazy when I got out. I keeled over, unable to stand, and crawled through my house on hands and knees as my abdomen twisted into knots. Even though I’d done all I could to take it easy, I guess the move had pushed me too hard. Now I was paying for it, and even a nice long bath couldn't undo the damage.

I got myself into my bed and felt pretty worried. I was supposed to go in for my embryo transfer the next day, but this seemed like a really bad sign. If my body was still recovering from my egg retrieval, it didn't feel too smart to be putting embryos in it!

I thought I'd see how I was feeling in the morning. If I was still hurting, I'd call and consult with my doctor. Perhaps it'd be best to freeze my embryos until my body recovered. I wanted to avoid that, though, because it meant more delays. It'd be a few more months until we could thaw my embryos and transfer them, and I didn't want to wait all that time if I didn't have to.

I went to sleep that night hoping I'd feel better in the morning, hoping that this was just a bad reaction from an overly busy day.

The next morning was a very memorable morning. I woke up feeling so very happy, and overwhelmed with gratitude and peace.

First of all, the pain was gone. I could stand and walk and felt healthy again. Amazing what sleep can do for you. My insides were still a little tender, but nothing like the pain I’d felt the night before. I felt good to go ahead as planned and have my transfer that day. Thank goodness for that!

I also woke up feeling so happy with my new house. I remember opening my eyes and having this feeling of finally arriving. After six months of searching the market, and three more months of stress and delays, we were finally in our dream home and we were there to stay! This was a home we could grow into, where we could raise our family and put down roots. I was right where I wanted to be, and that felt really really good.

Everything was just so perfect and I felt so grateful.

Our Fourth Attempt

It was Sunday, November 11th, our first day in the new house, the day of our embryo transfer, and Nick's birthday too! It wasn’t quite how I’d celebrate a birthday, with a house full of boxes and a long drive down to the clinic. But we sure felt blessed with so much good in our lives. Perhaps he'd get the greatest gift of all and we'd have a successful transfer!

I was very anxious to know how many embryos we had. After our inspiring Day 3 report, I felt very hopeful about our prospects. In my mind, I was hoping for five embryos, or somewhere thereabouts, since it usually takes that many for me to make a baby. But anything more than two was an improvement over last time, so I'd take it.

I sat down on that bed, the same bed where so much had happened already. My doctor couldn’t make it to my transfer, unfortunately, so it was another doctor this time, but one I’d heard really good things about. She came in and showed us a picture of two embryos. Once again, we had two good embryos to work with but that was all we knew for sure. There were four other embryos they were watching for progress and I would learn tomorrow whether they made it or not.

Gosh, this was nerve-wracking! I was hoping for something more definitive, a good solid number to give me lots of hope! Now I had to wait and see what would happen. I'd be alright if one or two of those embryos kept progressing, which gave me three or four total. But if none of them made it and these were my only two, I'd be crushed. I'd be angry! Ugh, I'd be devastated.



My doctor and I had already discussed that we should go ahead and put in two embryos this time. I was trying to be cautious with my other cycles, just putting in one at a time. But it was pretty evident that my embryos don't often make babies, however good they look. We figured we’d increase my chances of having one baby if we went ahead and put in two.

The doctor there verified if that’s what we wanted to do and I felt some hesitation. I thought it'd be a little ironic if they both took, especially after us being so cautious in trying to have just one at a time. But my mind was already made up and I didn't want to sit there and mull it over again. So we put them both in, fingers crossed.



I posted to my infertility group, giving them an update on my status:

Transferred two B-grade embryos. Feeling good about it, especially with one in particular looking really good. Watching 4 others to see if they make it to freeze. Fingers crossed. I think my husband looks a bit worried they’ll both take, ha ha!!

I laid on that bed for a while, thinking about these two little lives inside of me. Here were two tiny specs - my own children - just five days old but, with all this potential. These few cells could grow and divide, making arms and legs, fingers and toes, eyes and ears and a heartbeat. And it all just happens on its own! It never ceases to amaze me.

To be able to see it all at the start makes it that much more wondrous to me, how much can come of something so small. Every one of us started that way. Every one of us was once a tiny spec of cells. It's a miracle. We are all miracles.

We went home from our transfer and had lots to do. It was a busy time after that, with Thanksgiving around the corner and us hosting at our new home. But it was cluttered mess of furniture and boxes, so we had to roll up our sleeves and get right to work. It was exciting, but daunting as well. After so much work from selling and moving, not to mention my treatments, I was pretty worn out and ready to rest!

But, as usual, I had lots to keep me busy in my two week wait. My blood test was scheduled for the day before Thanksgiving. If we got a positive, we'd have something wonderful to celebrate for the holiday.

It was day the after my embryo transfer and I was going full throttle on home projects. I headed to Lowe's for a few supplies and had just pulled into the parking lot when I got a call from the clinic. It was my embryo report. They were calling to tell me how many of those other embryos survived. That would be the deciding factor on just how stressful these next two weeks would be. If I had a few more embryos to work with, I could breathe a little easier. That meant if this didn't work, I had something to fall back on. I had another chance.

I was really hoping I still had all four of them, but three embryos would be okay, too. That would get me the five total embryos I was hoping for. Honestly, I'd be pretty happy if even two of them made it. As long as it wasn't just one. To only have one more to work with would get me pretty down.

I answered the call and the embryologist was very brief.

“None of your other embryos survived.”

I was stunned. Completely stunned. I did not see this coming and was trying to process what I'd just heard.

Everything had looked so hopeful this time. We'd had so many that were right on track. And yet, here we were. Again! After looking through my history, switching things up, and having such a good response, we still ended up with only two embryos to work with! And they were already inside of me! This was it. This either worked or it didn't. And if it didn't, we were right back where we started, empty-handed and with more time and money down the drain.

I felt so confused and concerned. What was happening with my embryos? Why did so few survive? What was going wrong?

More than anything, I was angry. I was so tired of this being so hard!



I wanted to sit and cry. I wanted to throw things. But I really did need a few items at the store, so I had to keep it together. I walked and up and down the aisles and tried to keep myself focused on the task at hand. But I felt my heart breaking and my eyes well up with tears. I was crushed. I was devastated. And I was scared. Scared this wouldn’t work. The thought of starting all over again, of doing another round of injections, another egg retrieval, and all the stress involved, was something I was so scared to face. I didn't want to think about it. The thought was just too much.

My doctor emailed me and asked me if I was okay. I was honest and said NO. I was angry. I was upset.

She called me later that evening and we had a good chat. I'd had a little time to work through it all, and I'd come to a few conclusions.

On the one hand, I felt cheated to have lost so many embryos. It felt so unfair to have this happen twice in a row now, to have two whole cycles and end up with so little to work with. I was angry, too, to have lost so many that seemed so perfect. How did I end up with just two embryos when so many had been going so strong? It felt like nature just didn't like me!

On the other hand, I didn't know if this was a blessing in disguise. I told her, “I don’t know how angry to be. If this does work, then perhaps it’s for the best that we have nothing left.” We never wanted more embryos than we needed. That presented a problem, a moral issue about what to do with those other embryos. Nick and I were shooting for one more baby, two at most. If this worked, then we'd be right where we wanted to be with no hard choices to make.

So I decided it was premature to react to the news. This could still work out. Maybe. I hoped. But it did put the pressure on! A lot of pressure!

With all my previous tries, I felt prepared for failure. I knew I'd be okay if things didn't work out. If I got knocked down, I'd get back up and keep fighting.

But this felt different. I felt a desperation I'd never felt before. I didn't just want this to work. I needed it to work! If it didn't, I felt it might break me, and the thought scared me.

I was ready and willing to do anything, but there wasn't much I could do but call on the powers of heaven. I’d been very tight lipped about our journey, but I started to widen my circle just a bit, if only to ask for prayers on my behalf.

I’d gotten very close with the ladies in my book club, so I reached out and asked for their prayers. I knew they all cared about me and they knew some of what I’d been through. It was nice to know they were thinking of me and praying for me.

About a week later, a few odd things happened, things that had never happened to me before. My gums started hurting for no apparent reason. It actually hurt to brush my teeth because my gums were so sensitive. What the heck? I also started getting real hot and sweaty at night, which made no sense at all with it being plenty cold in the house.

Well, I did what any normal person would do. I turned to Google! I went searching, trying to find out if any of these things were actually bizarre pregnancy symptoms.

Turns out, yes! These symptoms were less common, but symptoms nonetheless.

I’d had so many fake symptoms in the past that I usually roll my eyes at anything and everything I experience in that two week wait. Spotting? Whatever. Cramping? Whatever. Nausea? Please. But I’d never had these symptoms before. These were entirely new and that made me curious.

I was starting to feel strongly suspicious too, a growing feeling inside of me that this just might have worked. I tried to stay neutral, but I couldn't help it. I felt hopeful.

I never knew what to make of my feelings. Sometimes they were spot on and sometimes they were way off. But it was hard to ignore the hope that I felt. Not just hope, but happiness too. I started to feel that these symptoms were indeed symptoms of pregnancy and this was actually working out.

I decided I'd brave an at-home test. I woke up early, the house still quiet, and felt an excitement about it. I took the test, put it on my bathroom counter, and waited.

Now I was excited and nervous. What if I was wrong? What if this was the ultimate fake out? What if nature really did hate me and was playing cruel tricks on me? Oh, I hope I don't regret this!

I breathed. And I braced myself.

But the wait wasn't long.

Almost immediately, a positive line showed up. It was thick and it was dark.

I stared at it in shock. I wasn't expecting it to happen so fast! People were always posting their positives online, and all I ever saw were super faint lines. I thought for sure I'd have to sit a minute and wait for a little line to show up. But this was immediate and there was nothing faint about it! That was as firm of a YES as you could get!

I was overwhelmed with elation. It was a YES! Finally, a yes! After all my treatments, this was honestly the first time I'd seen a positive pregnancy test. All my other positives had been a blood test and a phone call, so this was all new to me. It was such a magical feeling to see that dark line!

My mom had just flown in from California to stay for Thanksgiving and was sleeping in my guest room downstairs. I ran down and found her just waking up. I asked her excitedly to join me upstairs, and felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

I showed her the test and started to cry. “I’ve never had a positive test!” I said. We hugged and I felt such relief. It had worked! It had really worked! And that thick dark line gave me hope that it was working really well!

I went in for my blood test a couple days later. It felt good to know I'd be getting good news. I'd done another test at home and that positive line was still there, loud and clear. So I knew for sure I was pregnant. But I was still anxious to hear a good number. I didn't want a repeat from last time and end up with shaky low numbers.

We had family in town for Thanksgiving and were all at the theater when I got the call. I jumped out of my seat and answered it on my way out. It was a nurse from the clinic. She reminded me that they like to see numbers around 100 at that point, and most of my previous pregnancies had been somewhere in that range. But today's results were different. It was positive, yes, and this time my number was 388!

YES! What a fantastic start! This was my seventh time with a positive blood test and my numbers had never been this high!

I was elated! I was pregnant and knocking it out of the park. None of these scary low numbers to deal with. Not this time around.

I couldn't wait for that movie to end! As soon as it did, I got up and started to tell everyone, one by one. It felt so good to say those numbers over and over. Three eighty-eight! THREE EIGHTY-EIGHT! I told everyone what my nurse had told me. I was "very pregnant."

Everyone gasped and clapped and cheered. This was such great news. We'd have a very happy Thanksgiving after all.

Of course, I couldn't help but wonder if both embryos had stuck, especially with that extra high number. Part of me felt overwhelmed at the thought, even a little terrified! Then part of me felt sad if only one had survived. Then I would laugh about just how crazy it would be to have twins, on so many levels. Then I'd look at the pictures I had of the embryos, where one looked so perfect and the other not so much, and I'd tell myself that the perfect one had stuck and the raggedy one hadn't made it. And that would make me relieved and sad at the same time.

I was clearly conflicted.

I very much wanted them both. I couldn't help but cheer for my kids, seeing them there in that picture, these lucky two that had made it. It was having them both at the same time that felt scary.

But I was getting ahead of myself. It was milestone by milestone, and I still needed to make it to my first ultrasound.

Hoping for a Heartbeat

Now I was on to the next stretch of nervousness!

I'd made it past the two week wait with flying colors. But our first ultrasound was still three weeks away! More hoping, more waiting, and another test to pass. Trust me, I was counting down the days!

It was December 11th and I was so happy to make it to my first appointment without any cause for concern. But I was still so wary because of my history. In fact, I had never felt more terrified for an appointment than I did that day. I knew there were no guarantees. I knew that this could all go south. I knew I could walk into that clinic feeling hopeful and calm, and walk out feeling broken and devastated. I knew because I'd experienced it. I wasn't able to be so blissfully naive anymore. Not after all I'd been through.

I sat in the waiting room with tremors of fear running through me, very real and palpable fear. It was as if all the trauma of all my treatments went surging through me all at the same time.

My mind sifted through all the possible outcomes, all that could go wrong. I worried most about seeing no baby at all, that this was an ectopic pregnancy. It was a horrible and terrifying thought. It would traumatize me to the very core and I knew it.

I felt like my bucket of trauma was already full. One more drop and I just might break.

I was called back to a private room and got ready. I was there by myself, trying to calm my nerves. When the nurse came in for the ultrasound, she asked how I was feeling. I tried fighting back tears as I told her how very nervous I was. She understood how I felt. This was a scary journey, no doubt.

I laid back for the ultrasound and tried to brace myself.

Right away, I could see something there, and felt so relieved. Okay then, this wasn't ectopic, at least. It looked like we had a little bean on the screen and I knew that was a baby. My eyes were searching frantically for a heartbeat. Please, please, please, let's see a heartbeat!

Yes! It was there! A little flutter on the screen! Oh thank goodness, yes! We had a baby and we had a heartbeat. I could feel this massive amount of fear and anxiety leaving my body. It wasn't over yet, but at least the worst of the worst had been avoided.

I was overcome with elation, joy, and relief.

Then suddenly, the nurse snaps me out of my euphoria. Moving the scanner around, she says, "I think I see…”

What? What do you see?

Pointing to the screen, she shows me one baby. Then she moves her scanner over and shows me another baby. Two babies. One and two. And they both had heartbeats. Two heartbeats!

It’s hard to even describe how I felt in that moment. I was so wrapped up in this relief and euphoria that I had a hard time even processing the two babies I saw up on the screen.

And it definitely took some processing. I remember being a bit speechless, like my brain was doing a double take over and over again, trying to understand what this meant, to grasp the reality of it.



I had a flurry of thoughts and reactions run through my brain and my body:

Two babies? Oh my gosh, two babies. Yep, there they are, up on the screen. And they have heartbeats! They're healthy! This is good! Oh, I'm so relieved! Thank goodness, everything is all right. Oh my gosh, Nick is going to freak out. I'M freaking out! This is insane. But I'm kind of excited. Twins are cool. Twins are cute. But this is kind of scary. No, actually, this is really scary. This is gonna be hard! What the heck did we do!? Oh my gosh, what if they're both boys? I might not survive. No, it'll be fine. It'll all be fine. Just kidding, I'm totally scared. Whoa. Look at those babies. This is amazing. This is incredible. There are two babies inside of me! TWO!

It was going to take me some time to really process it all. It was shocking and exciting and overwhelming all at once.

Everything measured perfectly. All was well. This transfer had been a success in a very big way.

And you book club ladies? Y’all are on the prayer list from now on!

Announcing

I walked out of that clinic feeling very different than how I'd walked in. All that fear and worry, and now I was smiling. I was so happy knowing these babies were healthy and everything looked good.

I was laughing too. Laughing because I knew I'd be getting quite a reaction with news like this. I could hardly wait to tell everyone.

I called my husband first, of course. We'd been joking about twins these past few weeks and he always seemed genuinely terrified at the thought. So I was a bit concerned to tell him.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked him. “There’s two in there.”

He said to me, “Are you serious?” Oh yes, I was serious. This was definitely no joke. He had to take a second to process that, which I understood. All he could muster was, “I’m speechless.”

It was definitely an overwhelming feeling. I kept thinking how often I'd heard that life gets hard going from two kids to three. That's when you're suddenly outnumbered and feel a real strain in wrangling all the kids. Well, how about going from two kids to four!? How hard is that!?

I updated my infertility group and everyone was so thrilled for me. It was super fun to see so much excitement. There were so many people who were genuinely happy for me. Here are just some of the comments I received:

"This just makes my heart SO happy."

"Oh my gosh, I'm so excited for you! Such great news!"

"OMG YESSSSS!!!! I was praying for you for twins!!!"

"So exciting! We have twins, they are so fun!!!"

"Hooray!!! I've been silently following your story here and am so happy for you."

"Congrats!!! I've been thinking about you and this makes my heart happy. I'm going to give you a big old hug when I see you next."

"Congrats!!! I've followed your story as well and am SO thrilled to hear this."

I told a few of my infertility friends in a private chat online. The three of us had an ongoing conversation about our treatments and kept each other updated about all our appointments and procedures and results. They knew I was going in for the ultrasound and were anxiously awaiting my report. With two babies to scan, everything took a lot longer than usual. It'd been an hour already and they were starting to worry for me.

I told them, “IT’S TWIIIIIIIIIIINS!”

My absolute favorite response came from my friend, Rachel. Her reaction made me laugh out loud.



Nope. Totally serious. But I sure did laugh that she thought I was pulling her leg!

I called my dad, who said, “I KNEW IT!” He told me he had a feeling there were two, especially with my high numbers from the start.

Then I told my mom, who burst into tears. She'd been waiting to hear, and was worried something was wrong since I hadn't called for awhile. She was so happy and relieved at the news and immediately told all her coworkers. They'd been waiting on pins and needles along with my mom, and everyone cheered when they heard her report. It was very cute.

I had fun sharing the news, but it didn't take long for it all to sink in a little more, and I admit I felt a bit panicked. This was going to be such a huge change for our family and I knew the workload with twins no joke. I felt pretty overwhelmed and a little scared too.

I reached out to a friend of mine with two toddler twins. She'd told me before about how much she'd struggled, not just with the workload but with her emotions too. Even after infertility, raising kids is just hard, no matter how grateful you are. I told her I was really scared about having twins and kind of freaking out. All she offered was to say that my feelings were pretty understandable and appropriate. Okay then, this is all going to be just as scary I thought!

At the same time, I felt very blessed. I had a few friends still fighting to have their first baby, and it helped keep things in perspective. This was going to be tough, no doubt. But if we were going to be blessed with two more children, then I was happy to have them and knew I would love them.

Now came the fun part - planning our announcement! This was something I’d been so looking forward to. I thought it'd be so fun to surprise friends and family with news of our pregnancy, especially since so few knew we were trying!

I was still scared to tell everyone, though. We had a great start thus far, but I would have felt more comfortable if we'd have cleared the first trimester. I usually like to wait until 16 weeks or so, when chances for loss are so much lower. It’s hard to be genuinely excited with others when you’re still nervous and guarded about the pregnancy.

I also wanted to find out the genders and have that be part of our announcement too. I always imagined how fun it would be to have my mother-in-law open something pink or blue and see her react. But that meant waiting a few more months, and with twins, I didn’t know if I’d be able to hide my pregnant belly for that long. She might suspect a little more than holiday weight by then!

Christmas was right around the corner and although I’d be just nine weeks along, it felt like the best time to tell our family. There wasn’t another occasion for quite some time, and a lot of our family would be there together opening presents. It seemed like the perfect place and the perfect time.

I spent a lot of time planning my announcement. I ended up finding a little wall hanging that said "so very grateful" with some spots to hang a few pictures on it. I got a picture of Gavin and a picture of Ethan. Each had their birthday on their picture. Then I added an ultrasound picture that said, “Coming July 2019.”

I was very unsure about using an ultrasound picture, because they resembled a lima bean at that point. It wasn’t a clear baby picture. But a few of my friends insisted that everyone knew what an ultrasound picture meant, so I went with it.

I only put one baby on the wall hanging. Deeper in the gift bag, I had another little box with the other baby picture inside it. This one said, “ALSO Coming July 2019.”

My goal was to have a celebration of our pregnancy, and then another wow moment as we all discovered there were twins!

Thankfully, we had another ultrasound scheduled the week before Christmas. Nick came this time to see the babies, so it was fun to share that with him. We got our lima bean pictures that day, the ones we used for our announcement on the board. It was nice to get another look and make sure all was well before our big announcement.

Christmas morning, we were all gathered together for presents. A lot of Nick's family was there, his mom and his aunts, uncles, and cousins. We were missing a few people but it was still a good crowd.

My mind was racing, trying to figure out how I'd introduce the gift. I'd have to wait til the very end. This was a gift that deserved to be last - the grand finale! Somehow I'd have to get everyone's attention and present the gift to my mother-in-law without raising any suspicion. I knew if I made it too big of a deal, people might start guessing before anything was opened.

I tried to be casual about it. When everyone had confirmed that the last of the presents had been opened, I announced that I actually had one more gift, just a little something extra. I told everyone that it was a special thank you for my mother-in-law, who'd been such a wonderful support to our family and such a great grandma to our kids. She took the gift bag with teary eyes at what I’d said. Nick’s cousin laughed that she was crying already and hadn’t even opened it yet!

I sat back down and started filming with my phone.

She pulled out the wall hanging and looked at it, nodding. And then she realized what it meant.

“WHAAAT! WHAAAAAAT!?”

Everyone in the room was suddenly more alert. All the chatter died down and questions were asked. What was it!? What was the gift? Everyone wanted to know!

There was a sudden flurry of reactions and comments after that. The word “pregnant” got thrown around, so it didn’t take long for people to figure it out. There was a lot of genuine surprise, a lot of smiles and wows and congratulations. No one even knew we were trying, so this was a shock for everyone. I was going for a big surprise and I had certainly succeeded.

I smiled and laughed through it all, enjoying all the energy and excitement in the room. But I could hardly wait for the next part!

I told her there was another little present at the bottom. She opened it and unraveled the next ultrasound picture. She stared. And nodded. And stared. And nodded again.

Everyone was still buzzing with chit chat about the announcement, and there sat my mother-in-law, staring at this picture in silence. Nick and I watched her, waiting. But she just continued to stare and nod. I guess it wasn't as straight-forward as I hoped.

Finally, I said to Nick, “I think she needs a little help."

Nick went over and took the picture from her and said, “This needs to go here,” and put it on the wall hanging along with the other pictures. His cousin was holding the wall hanging at that point and was the first to understand.

“TWINS!?!?!?”

The reactions changed. We went from smiles and excitement to bulging eyes and gaping mouths. It's as if the whole room paused, trying to process it. I laughed because I understood. It's certainly normal to feel a bit stunned. We were going from two kids to four. That's a lot to take in.



I had a blast seeing everyone react to the news. It took awhile for them to recover, to pick themselves up off the floor and get back to the smiles and congratulations. It was a blend of excitement and anxiety on our behalf, and I had so much fun seeing it all play out in the crowd.

Imagine my devastation when I realized my phone had not been recording! Aw man! I had been so careful to make sure it recorded! I wanted so badly to capture that moment forever and I was so sad it had passed. All that planning and preparation and I'd missed it! Agh!

But it happened and I enjoyed it. I wish I had captured everyone's gaping mouths, though.

We continued our celebrations that day. We had a special dinner with my aunt and mother-in-law and exchanged a few more gifts at my home. It was a very nice evening and a perfect Christmas Day.

The Big Scare

That very night, I woke up suddenly and felt something wrong.

I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Please tell me this isn't what I think it is. Because it sure felt as if I was bleeding, and not just a little, but a lot.

I wanted so badly to be wrong, but sure enough, there was blood. It was bright red and there was a lot of it. Oh no. Not this. Please, not this.

I was horrified. Terrified. Dizzy and in shock.

I couldn't believe this was happening. Now? Right now? Right after I'd just told the family? How could this happen? Why? Everything was fine. Everything was good. And now, just like that, it wasn't? It didn't make sense. No, it was cruel and unfair and it made me feel angry.

This was all falling apart and there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing at all.

I started to shake all over and feel horribly ill. I was so afraid of what was coming, of the pain and trauma to follow. I didn't want to go through it. I didn't want to feel it or see it. I wanted so badly to be able to close my eyes and shut it all out.



Nick heard me in distress and came to the bathroom. His face fell as soon as he saw me. He looked at the scene and he knew this was bad.

“Oh no,” he said.

All my nerves and nausea peaked. I continued to shake and eventually threw up. All the while, I waited. I sat in this overwhelming sense of dread and waited for the worst.

But nothing happened.

After awhile, I started to calm down. I didn't feel sick anymore and slowly my shaking had stopped.

As my mind cleared and the shock faded, I started to doubt all my dread. This looked bad, yes. But the bleeding had stopped and nothing else happened. I remembered hearing of people who'd had a big gush like this - a big scare - and then everything turned out okay. Sometimes this was just a normal part of pregnancy. A cruel and horrible part, but normal nonetheless. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't over yet.

I wanted to tell my husband to not give up hope. Not yet. I knew he was feeling quite sure it was over. I knew he was feeling scared and upset. But I was so afraid to say anything. It made it feel like I was setting us up. What if I was wrong? What if there was more trauma to come? I hated the thought of giving him hope only to have it stolen away.

Instead, we both stayed quiet. Conversation of any kind felt so wrong in the moment. I told him that we needed to go to the emergency room and find out what was happening.

Thankfully, my mother-in-law was staying the night. I felt bad to involve her since I didn't want to cause any stress. But I was so glad she was there. That way we could go to the emergency room without taking the kids.

Nick woke her up and explained the situation while I tried to clean up and get ready. She asked if I was okay, and I said, “We’ll see.”

Sometimes a visit to the emergency room can be its own kind of pain. It doesn't feel like an emergency at all because you spend so much time sitting and waiting! So I was very surprised and very relieved to get immediate attention.

We got right back to a room and a doctor came in soon thereafter. He asked me a few questions as I sat on the bed. As we were talking, I could feel the bleeding start up again and that got me worried. Maybe I'd been too hopeful after all.

But the doctor asked me a very important question just then, one I hadn't considered:

"Have you had any pain?"

Actually, no. In fact, there was no pain at all.

I knew that was a good sign. I'd miscarried before and there was certainly pain involved. But I'd felt nothing so far, and that gave me hope.

It would all come down to the ultrasound. We'd need to do a scan to find out what was happening. Thankfully, they brought an ultrasound in pretty quickly and the doctor took a look.

And there they were, two babies and two heartbeats. They both looked perfect and everything was right where it should be.

I felt such relief and my poor husband was clearly in shock. He thought for sure it was already over and was stunned to see otherwise. I was sure feeling bad about keeping my hopes to myself!

The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong on the scan but he said he'd call my fertility doctor and discuss it with her. We waited awhile, hoping he'd return with some answers.

He came back and said they found a hemorrhage on the scan. It was at the top of my uterus, between the two babies. Somehow a pool of blood had collected between their two sacs, which explained all the bleeding I'd had.

We had answers at least, but it didn't sound good.

We were told this was fairly common in pregnancy, and more common with twins. In fact, with me already nine weeks along, the risk was supposedly minimal at that point. So, much to our surprise, the doctor was unconcerned and sent us on our way.

What a relief! I thought for sure this was headed toward a terrible tragedy. I thought for sure it was over. But we saw those babies and their strong heartbeats. There was good reason to hope.

We came home and I spent the next day catching up on sleep and trying to calm my poor nerves. Thankfully, the bleeding slowed down and eventually stopped. The whole ordeal did put me on edge, but only a little. I read many accounts of other women having the exact same experience, and everything turned okay.

As grateful as I was, I certainly could have done without that experience!

The Big Reveal

Soon after, my mom came to visit from California to celebrate the new year. I’d set up an ultrasound during her visit and was excited to have her to see the babies.

It turned out to be a wondrous experience. There was such a huge change in just those couple of weeks. They were lima beans before, but now they had arms and legs, hands and feet, and were dancing all around! They put on quite a show for us, and it was very exciting.

One thing I’ll never forget was seeing Baby A do some quick jabs with those tiny little fists. It made me laugh and think of Rocky Balboa, training for a fight. I got the immediate impression that this was another rowdy boy. The baby was very active on the ultrasound and wanted lots of attention.

When we moved over to Baby B, this one seemed more calm and shy. The baby didn’t do anything crazy - no jabs or kicks - but simply waved. This baby seemed like a sweetheart and I got the impression that it was a girl.

We did see the bleed at that point, between the two sacs at the top of my uterus. But the nurse told me that it was a very small bleed and posed very little risk at that point. I didn’t feel too worried about it anymore, especially knowing how common it was.

Click here to see a short video of the ultrasound. In the video, you can see the bleed between the two sacs. But you also hear the nurse tell me how she's happy with the babies' growth and heartbeat. Everything looked great!

Our family knew about the pregnancy, along with a few close friends, but I still hadn't gone public with it. Nothing was posted on social media, anyway, but I wanted to get through the first trimester before I said anything. I also wanted to know the genders first, which I thought would be fun as part of the announcement.

I had an ultrasound scheduled for February 13th, and I knew I'd be far enough along to learn the genders by then. I was so looking forward to it! I could finally make it all public and also begin prepping the nursery. Then I'd know whether to do blue or pink or both!

In early February, my husband and I took a trip to Hawaii. We splurged on the trip, only because we knew it would be a good long while before the two of us could travel again. It was amazing to be so carefree for a week! We hit up all our favorite spots on the island and enjoyed the chance to relax. I was careful to hide my growing belly in all our pictures.



No belly...



No belly...



Whoops, forgot to suck it in!

We had our scheduled ultrasound soon after our trip. It made coming home from Hawaii a little easier knowing we'd soon find out what we were having! I was so excited!

I think it goes without saying that I desperately hoped for a girl. As long as there was one girl in there, I would be thrilled. 

Part of me wanted a girl and a boy, simply because I felt sad at the thought of Gavin and Ethan being my only boys. They've been so cute and so fun that I actually found myself wanting another. So I couldn't go wrong with one of each.

Of course, a big part of me wanted two girls so they could have that sisterhood I never had. I wasn't sure if twin girls sounded cute or sounded scary. Probably both. But I knew that sisters can develop a close and special friendship and I wanted that for my daughters.

And then there was the other outcome - two boys. I was genuinely scared of that. On the one hand, if it happened, I knew I'd have a good laugh. To see the saga of boys continue in my life was kind of hysterical. Try as I might, perhaps this was a fate I couldn't escape. But I knew I'd cry too because, of course, I'd be very disappointed. To go through all this work for my kids and never get a daughter would be pretty heartbreaking. I was afraid to face that.

Well, I didn't end up facing anything at all because our ultrasound was inconclusive. We couldn't get a clear picture on either of them! We thought one baby might be a girl - we saw nothing between the legs anyway - but it was hard to be sure because the picture wasn't great. The other baby had legs crossed right in the way, as if purposely trying to hide it from us! We tried to get those legs to move, but it was a no go!

I was a little annoyed that my doctor didn't spend more time trying to get to the bottom of this, no pun intended. We only spent about five minutes looking at the babies and ended up leaving with no answers at all! This was agonizing! To make matters worse, my next appointment wasn't for a whole other month! I couldn't wait that long. No way!

I had Nick come to the appointment with me because I thought the gender reveal would be a big moment for us. Instead we had this huge let down. We walked away from that office and I told him that waiting a month would be torturous. What was I going to do?

Well, Nick had the answer! He mentioned those studios where you can pay to have ultrasounds done. Oh my gosh, I'd forgotten about that! Yes! We were saved! Take my money and give me answers, people!

I went straight home and started looking for places to go. I found a studio with excellent reviews, a decent price, and a guarantee you’d find out the gender. And they happened to have an opening that very evening!

Nick took off early from work and we all drove down to the studio. I was so ready to do this! I was nervous, but ready!

The ultrasound began...

We got a baby on the screen and took a look around. We got a good angle and saw girl parts! Yes! A girl! Hallelujah! There was no mistaking it this time. No second-guessing. We got a girl! We did it! Woo hoo!

I was so happy and so very relieved. We knew for sure I had a daughter in there, so I could let go of my worries. No more fear of disappointment. I wanted a daughter and I had one.

We took a good look at the baby and then moved on to the next...

And saw another girl! What!? No way!

I didn’t realize until that moment how excited I was for that outcome. My girls would each get a sister, and that made my heart so so happy.

I looked over at Nick and asked if he was ready to have two teenage girls at once. He smiled a nervous smile, but I knew he was happy too.

We buzzed about the news for a minute. I was going on and on about how excited I was, telling the lady a bit about our journey, all while she continued to look around with the ultrasound.

Then she said, "Wait a minute..."

She'd been real quiet and focused for awhile, moving the scanner around and getting different angles on one of the babies. She told me she wasn’t so sure anymore, and kept searching. We all waited. And then we saw it.

There was, without a doubt, something between those legs.

We knew we'd seen a girl in there, so we knew for sure we had a daughter. But we most definitely had a son in there too.

I was feeling a little bummed out. Here she'd told us the news and I'd gotten myself all jazzed about it, and now we had different results? How did that even happen?

"I think I looked at the same bum twice," she said. Well, you need to get your bums straight lady! You're messing with our minds!



Baby A was the boy, pictured above.



And Baby B was the girl.

I admit, the fake out was a bit of a blow. On the one hand, I was so grateful to know we had a girl. All I needed was one and I had her. But here I was celebrating the fact that she wouldn’t be the only girl when in fact, she was. She'd grow up just like me, with three brothers and no sisters, and that made me a bit sad for her. I just hoped she could find a good group of friends, and find a way to be included and bond with other girls. And perhaps having a twin brother would change the dynamic a little. Perhaps she'd be just fine.

One fun fact was my prediction was right! The punching baby was a boy and the waving baby was a girl, with him on my right side and her on my left. It was cool knowing I'd gotten that impression early on and been right all along.

I set up a photo shoot for us and the kids. I thought it’d be such a fun way to tell everyone our big news, with a blend of blue and pink. It was a bit hectic, but I actually had a lot of fun getting our outfits together for the shoot. Everything came together so perfectly and I was so thrilled to find all the right items.

Our photo shoot was scheduled for the evening, and our boys were tired and rowdy. It was an hour long session and those boys were done smiling and posing about five minutes in. Just having the kids stand still, sit still, or pose in any way was near impossible, despite whatever bribing we did. It was actually very stressful and we left there completely drained.

We had to come back in an hour and see what shots we got. I felt so skeptical we’d gotten anything good. I brought blue and pink cupcakes for the photo shoot and we'd done a few shots with them. I saw the photographer take a picture of the two cupcakes on the floor, and I told Nick that was probably the only picture that turned out okay!

I came back an hour later to check out the pictures, feeling defeated already. I remember telling myself that if we had even one or two good pictures, I’d be thrilled.

But there were so many good pictures! I about fell off my chair in astonishment! This photographer was a real miracle worker. He must have been quite the sharp shooter to get the shots he did! I left there so relieved and so elated, and gave a good tip to that magician of a man.

Here are a few of the best ones we got:

There was one more thing for me to do. I wanted to do a special gender reveal for our parents, and wanted to have fun with it, of course! I looked online for ideas, but many of them were too complicated or problematic. There was a golf ball you could buy with powder inside. When you hit the ball, it would explode in a cloud of pink or blue. I really wanted to send those to my mom, who has a little putting green in her backyard. But then I read reviews saying you could see the color underneath the white ball. Well, how lame is that!?

I ended up sending her two stuffed animals instead. They were two cute elephants, one blue and one pink. I wish she lived closer so I could have seen her open it in person!



For local family, I got a few confetti poppers and had a little reveal party with that, which was very fun. We popped them outside, and the blue and pink confetti looked so great against the white snow in the background. I got it all on video to include in my social media announcement. You can see one of the videos if you click here.

Putting my announcement up on social media was kind of a culminating moment for me. All along, I had really wanted to make it a surprise, but this was a double whammy I hadn't planned for - pregnant and with twins! Nobody saw that coming, not even me! I was so happy with the pictures and videos and how it had all turned out. And I loved to seeing everyone's reaction. It was one big blend of shock, excitement, and some worry for me too, ha ha! It was a very fun part of the whole experience.

Pregnancy and Preparation

Now that I had the announcements behind me, I could get to work on preparing for these babies. There was so much to do!

I knew we were headed toward a very big change in our lives. Once the babies came, it was going to be difficult to do much of anything for awhile. It was going to be a lot harder to leave the house, to clean the house, to get my kids ready, get myself ready, run errands, go to the store, or ever do much of anything besides keep us fed, bathed, and clothed.

It was a little overwhelming to think about!



But I'd worked hard to be a mother, and now I needed to embrace it completely. I needed to enjoy this time with my kids and enjoy them being little. I knew I could do that a lot better if I used this time to prepare all I could, to get my house in order and get helped lined up so I wouldn't feel so overworked and overwhelmed. Heaven knows I'd have no more time for that stuff once the babies arrived. It was now or never!

So I got right to work and I worked my tail off!

The next few months were a flurry of activity, with a lot of focus on the house and the yard and buying the items we needed. We bought cribs and beds, dressers and tables, couches and chairs. I bought a few things for the yard as well, a pool and a sandbox and a trampoline, plus a fire pit and outdoor seating and lights. So much of my time was spent shopping for the right items at the right price.



Then, of course, we had to go through all our boxes and get organized. There were a few repairs to do as well, small projects all throughout the house. I have to give a huge thank you to my sister-in-law, who spent so much of her time helping me with these things. She often insisted I stay off my feet while she worked on projects around the house: assembling furniture, hanging pictures, and doing small repairs. She was instrumental in transforming my house from a pile of boxes to a beautiful livable home.

It was a whole lot of work, with months and months spent plugging away at each room in the house. But it was very fulfilling to see it all unfold and see the home come together.

One of my biggest projects was getting the nursery ready. I had decided to do a mural in the twins room and struggled with a theme that worked for both a boy and girl. I thought it'd be fun to do a fantasy theme, dragons for the boy and unicorns for the girl. So I drew out a plan and got to work.

And wow, was it ever WORK - hours and hours and hours of work. It was a learning experience, for sure. Sometimes I loved doing it and sometimes I just wanted it over with.

I'm very happy with how it all turned out, but finishing that mural was literally one of the biggest reliefs of my life! I almost cried when it was over. It was such a huge undertaking and I have a new appreciation for people who do that kind of work. I thought it'd be fun to do for a living one day, but now I'm not so sure!

Here are some pictures of the nursery. It all came together so well, and I especially love the cute wall hangings my aunt made for me.

After all that work, there was still more to do. There were extra steps I could take to simplify my life and gear up for the changes ahead, and I came to realize just how important those preparations were.

Early on in my pregnancy, I joined a group on Facebook for mothers of twins. At one point, a lady posted to the group who had just delivered her twins two weeks before. Her situation was similar to mine, with two new babies plus two other kids. She said she was really struggling with how hard it was. She posted a picture of her holding her two babies and I saw something in her face that really struck me. It was a debilitating fatigue.

"Holy cow!" I thought. "I need to do even more - anything and everything I can - to prepare for these twins, because I don't want to end up like this poor woman."

So I bought a freezer for my garage and packed it with as many freezer meals as I could. We bought paper goods as well, to minimize dishes and clean up. I knew a cleaning service would be a huge help too, so I found someone to do my bathrooms and floors on a regular basis. Hooray for that!

I also scheduled help from friends and family for the first couple of months. I'd have people available to help out at night or to help with the boys during the day, or to help out with transportation, meals, cleaning, shopping, or any other tasks. I was so grateful to have people willing and able to help me in this very busy time!

I was definitely nesting, and with all the work I was doing, someone told me I was "nesting on steroids." I actually had a list of 45 things I was trying to get done before the babies came and I was chipping away at that list pretty fiercely. Each week got me closer and closer to delivering the twins and then and my prep time would be over!

As I got close to my third trimester, I was feeling like I needed to be a lot more ready than I was. It was time to pick up the pace. Full speed ahead! At the time, I only had the two cribs purchased. There were a lot of other baby items I still needed to get. What if these babies came tomorrow? I wouldn't be ready at all. I needed to go shopping now!

I shared my concerns with my sister-in-law and told her I was feeling too far behind schedule. Well my sister-in-law was worried I'd get so stressed out and worked up that I'd put myself in labor.

So she shared a little secret with me.

It just so happened that she had been organizing a surprise baby shower for me, along with my mother-in-law, stepmom, and best friend. So I just needed to calm down about all these items and wait and see what I'd get at the shower.

I was very touched that they would do that for me, and although the surprise didn't work out, I was still very surprised when I heard about it! I was not expecting a shower at all and it really turned out super cute. They used the fantasy theme for the invitations and decorations, and I loved it.

Here are some decorations my aunt made for the shower, which I later put up in the nursery.







My best friend was so nice to host the baby shower at her home. I loved how it was an open house style, so people could come and go and we could keep it light and casual. And I loved my gifts, especially all the girl outfits. I just couldn't wrap my mind around having a girl! Unreal! But here were these clothes, like this was really happening!

The most special gift was a book my sister-in-law put together. She'd gotten pictures with me and all the people who attended. They'd all written me notes and she put the notes and pictures together in a little photo book. It was such a sweet gift and I felt so grateful for so many people I have in my life who love and support me.



Here I am with my sister-in-law, who's the most incredible miracle worker I know. You need something done, you call her. She has a solution for everything and is always looking for ways to be helpful.



Here I am with my best friend. I know she'd drop everything to come to my rescue, or go on a completely spontaneous adventure with me. We're gonna grow old together, and play til we're old and gray.



My sweet mother-in-law is a rock in my life. She is so loving and supportive to me and my family and is one of my greatest friends. I love that I can talk to her about anything in my life, even the little details, and she cares about all of it.



My aunt is so kindhearted. She's the one to show up for all the special events in my life, and she'll craft the decor for it all too. She's like a celebrity to my kids and makes us all feel so loved.



My stepmom is such an example to me. She is patient, kind, and tenderhearted. She keeps things positive and sees the good in others. I feel lucky to know her and have her support in my life.

The shower was one of many blessings in my pregnancy. Another blessing was to have such a healthy pregnancy so that I could accomplish so much and be so prepared. I was amazed at all I got done in those few months, and thankful for the help I had to get there.

But things did change in the second trimester and were different than previous pregnancies. I started showing much earlier, around 14 weeks, and grew a lot quicker. By the end of my second trimester, I felt like I was full term already! It was manageable, but definitely uncomfortable. It made me nervous that I had another two or three months to go before delivery!

In fact, there were quite a few times in my pregnancy that I could feel my body stretching, and it hurt! It was so painful at times, I thought I was going into early labor. I'd get some pretty intense cramps in my back and had so much pressure and stretching all around my abdomen. I finally went in to get checked out at one point, but it was all fine. I guess it was just the normal aches and pains of a body trying to accommodate two babies.

Here you can see my pregnancy unfold. I grew big and I grew fast!



20 weeks: Showing more than usual at this point, but not in a big way.



24 weeks: Now I'm feeling much larger than normal, like I'm getting close to a full-term belly.



30 weeks: Definitely larger than ever before and feeling the weight of it all. It's getting hard to get any sleep because of all the discomfort.



33 weeks: It's getting a lot harder to do anything at this point. It's all very cumbersome and I'm feeling so much pressure. I'm thinking I might only last another two weeks.



36 weeks: Surprised to be have made it this far. In a lot of pain and am now using a wheelchair for longer outings.



38 weeks: I'm smiling on the outside, but on the inside, my body is crying and completely enraged.

As you can see, my growing belly was an adventure all its own!

The funny thing is, I remember when I thought I might never be pregnant. I felt like I might as well believe in unicorns. I just couldn't picture it. I couldn't even picture myself with a pregnant belly. I want to go back to that poor faithless girl and say:

B E L I E V E !



It was a whole other experience being pregnant with twins, much different than my previous pregnancies. For one thing, my shape was very different. I wasn't just large, but I carried very low, like gravity was having its way with me. But it all came out in front, while you could hardly even tell I was pregnant from the back! It made everything a bit more comical, as if it wasn't enough already. I could turn to the side and say, "SURPRISE!"

I walked into a store one time and an employee came to me and said, "Is it rude if I ask if you're having more than one baby?" I laughed out loud. I knew I was enormous, and to have people openly guess it was twins was a testament to that.

But she told me she'd hardly even noticed I was pregnant when I walked in the door. It wasn't until she saw me turn to the side that she thought, "WHOA!" Ha ha!

I got a lot of reactions and comments from complete strangers like that. There was shock and there was sympathy, and sometimes people would shake their heads like they couldn't even believe it. I was just as impressed myself that my body could do what it was doing. Trust me.

And hey, with a belly that big, I got myself a built-in tray table! Here I am - front and back - and you can appreciate all the interesting (and unflattering) angles going on here.





Something I really loved about the pregnancy was feeling the babies move so much earlier than before. I remember lying on the couch and feeling these little flutters. It felt like someone was popping popcorn in my belly, but I was so skeptical about it since I was only 13 weeks! 

I asked in my twin mom group if anyone had felt movement that early. I was so happy to see that quite a few other moms had experienced this too, so I wasn't just making this up! I guess it's a little blessing that can come with carrying twins and I was all about it! Feeling their jabs and kicks helped me feel more sure about the pregnancy much earlier than usual. It was always so comforting to feel them fluttering about and know they were doing okay.

The twins were right next to each other, side by side, with the boy on my right and the girl on my left. So if I had movement on one side or the other, I would know who it was.

I felt the boy move a lot more often. I don't know if he was more active or just more detectable. But I always knew he was okay because he was always on the move. He jabbed and he kicked and I loved every bit of it. More than once, I had a nurse or doctor comment during an ultrasound that they hadn't seen a baby that active in awhile. Yeah, we do active boys in this family.

But my daughter's specialty was somersaults. Every time we saw her on ultrasound, she'd be flipped one way or the other, head up one week and head down the next. This happened all throughout my pregnancy, even at the end when she was a good-sized baby! What I found amazing was I didn't feel her flipping! Here she was busy doing all these acrobatics and I barely felt a thing!



It got really neat at the end when I could feel the babies so distinctly. I could touch the top of my tummy and feel something there, a hard little lump that could be a foot or a knee or an elbow. I would press on it and that little lump would move away. It was fun and amazing and it definitely made it feel much more real. I don't remember feeling a baby as distinctly as I did with these two, and I knew it was something I'd miss once I had them.

Another thing with twins is feeling so lost on when you'll deliver, and I wasn't such a big fan of that. So often, you see twins born earlier, a few weeks or even a few months. With that in mind, I felt on edge once I got to my third trimester. I felt like it could happen any time, and it made my day-to-day a little more nerve-wracking when I didn't know if it was tomorrow, next week, or next month.

Because I was in so much pain so early on, I kind of figured I wouldn't last long. My official due date was July 30th, but most of my family figured I'd deliver sometime in June because of the way I looked and the way I felt.

But the days kept passing by and I got more and more amazed that these babies stayed safe and snug inside of me! Because, by the end, my body was really falling apart!

Sometime in June, I started to reach a whole new level of hurt. My belly was stretching to infinity and beyond and it just kept dropping lower and lower. It did not feel good, not at all, and got very cumbersome, especially in those final weeks. I had to sit with my legs open wide so my belly had somewhere to go!

I felt an immense amount of pressure too! Sometimes I'd feel like a baby was trying to push his way out and I was so sure I'd be going into labor at any moment, or at least feel my water break! I was constantly wondering how I could feel so achy and miserable and still be perfectly pregnant! What more had to happen here!?

And then my legs started breaking down too. They'd been swollen for a good long while, and now I had this horrible pain in my right leg. There was this pressure and tightness and a stinging sensation in my thigh, like an enormous splinter was in there, the size of a branch!

It hurt so bad doing anything at all - sit, stand, walk - and my only relief was to live in the bathtub where the hot water helped alleviate some of the pain. Just getting dressed was nearly impossible because it hurt to bend my knee! I had to have Gavin help me put my on pants a number of times, which confused him quite a bit because I'm "way too old to need help getting dressed," he said.

I had my leg monitored for blood clots a number of times, but nothing was there. I thought it was sciatic pain, but it wasn't in the right spot for that. So we never really figured out what was happening other than too much pressure from the pregnancy.

You can see my sad leg here and how swollen it was by my knee. They had me wear compression stockings at the end, and they were super tight and so hard to get on. They did help a little though, but you could see where the fabric would dig into my swollen leg and leave marks.





So here I am pretty much an invalid at this point, bladder squished like a pancake, unable to sleep because of the pain and the pee, unable to sit or walk or stand for long periods, and wondering why in the blazes these babies weren't coming!

Everyone was so sure it'd be any minute, especially since I'd been hovering at 3 or 4 centimeters for weeks already and was 80 percent effaced! I was thinking they'd be here sometime at the end of June, right around my birthday, but June came and went and we had no babies yet.

Then I thought for sure they'd be here sometime around the 4th of July. All my friends and family were on standby, waiting for these babies to come. But they didn't.

Then we got into the second week of July, and I was on pins and needles, so sure it would happen. And boy, was I ready! I was so broken at that point, and wanted some relief so badly! The babies were good and healthy, and I'd done my job. Now was the time. It had to be.

But the days went by, and still nothing happened. Sadly, my doctor was actually out of town at the time, or I would have marched in there and demanded we deliver!



I had an induction date set for July 17th, so there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Eventually, I'd get there, slowly but surely. I was counting down the days!

About a week before my induction date, after feeling so certain they'd come on their own, I finally gave up on it. I stopped reading into any of my pains, and stopped anticipating labor. It didn't seem to matter how broken I was, how horrible I felt, or that my body and organs were getting smashed to smithereens. I had a feeling they were snug as a bug in there and I just had to make it all the way to the 17th before this was over.

Thank goodness for the amazing support system I had during this time. I was in pretty bad shape and needed all the help I could get. It's a little hard to put your feet up when you still have a house to run and kids to take care of. But I had people step in and help me rest more often, which was a Godsend, no doubt.

My mother-in-law was especially helpful, taking so much of her time to be at my house and help out wherever she could. She put herself in charge of the laundry, which was a huge weight off my shoulders, and was always encouraging me to soak in the bathtub or go take a nap. She put my needs above her own again and again and was always trying to think of ways to make things easier for me.

My mom was pretty amazing as well. She drove out from California a few days earlier than planned when she saw just how enormous and encumbered I was. She helped me put compression stockings on my inflamed legs and made sure I was putting my feet up whenever possible. She cooked dinners, ran errands, and was especially good at keeping my boys entertained. She worked on a few projects around the house too, weeding and pruning my yard and cleaning my windows. She even cleaned out some of my window wells! She was an unstoppable force and her help was so appreciated.

Meanwhile, my sister-in-law was on standby to watch the boys when it came time for me to deliver, and she continued to squeeze me into her schedule so she could help me finish some last minute projects in the home.

I felt so blessed for all the help and support I got. Now all we could do was wait for the 17th!

Delivery!

It was my final weekend before delivery and I was so glad to be nearing the end! We went to church on Sunday and I'm sure everyone there was amazed to see me still pregnant. I chuckled to myself, knowing that I looked like quite the spectacle at that point. In fact, my husband kept using the word "impressive" in regards to my belly, which was an appropriate word, I think.





My doctor came back into town that day - hallelujah! - and I had an appointment with him a few days later. It Tuesday the 16th, the day before my scheduled induction. We were so close now, and I was super anxious to talk to him and find out how things were looking for my induction.

Unfortunately, he was way behind schedule and I ended up waiting a whopping two hours before I was seen! I sat there in the waiting room bored to tears and wishing I'd brought my laptop so I could work on this blog. That was the only task on my to-do list that I still had hanging over my head. Instead, I sat there feeling bummed that this was how I'd spend my last day before the twins arrived.

I tried to keep myself entertained by chatting with some friends on my phone and taking silly selfies:



Thankfully, my appointment was nothing but good news!

First, Baby Girl, who'd been somersaulting the entire pregnancy and was head up at our last appointment, was now head down and set to deliver. Both babies were now in the perfect position and I was so happy about that. I had been hoping to avoid a c-section if I could, and now I had a really good chance for a vaginal delivery. Shoot, let's do this now, before she flips again!

I had actually switched doctors near the end of my pregnancy because I wanted to deliver at a different hospital than originally planned. I'd heard great things about this hospital and I thought it was worth the switch to try for a better experience.

Unfortunately, there'd been some construction going on in the labor and delivery unit, so I was a little worried about the experience I might have. But the doctor told me the construction had just finished! There'd be no noises and no inconveniences to deal with. Sweet!

This was all working out perfectly! The babies are ready to deliver, my body is more than ready to go, the doctor is back from vacation, and the hospital is free from construction.

Let's do this!

After my appointment, I stopped and chatted with the doctor and nurses for a bit and started feeling these little twinges in my back. I even mentioned it to the doctor and told him how I'd learned not to pay those pains any mind because it never meant anything. Just more pains and strains from the pregnancy. He'd just checked my cervix too, and that often resulted in a few pains after.

"I'll see you sometime tomorrow," I said. One way or another, this was happening soon and I was so relieved by that, and very excited.

I went home and wondered what I should do with my last evening. I was torn between having time together as a family or spending the night out with Nick. I'd been wanting to see the new Spiderman movie with him and thought that might be fun. But I didn't know if it would be more meaningful to do something with the boys before our family dynamic changed.

I sat down and worked on my blog for a minute, waiting for Nick to get home from work. As I sat there typing, those little twinges in my back started getting more intense. I had to lean back in my chair a few times to try and ease the pain, and started swaying back and forth in my seat. Then the pain would go away for awhile and I would keep writing. But then it would always came back.

Well, the doctor did just check my cervix so I figured my body was reacting to that, and maybe a bit more than usual since I was so far along.

My mom had made taco salad for dinner, and it looked really good. Nick had just gotten home and we were ready to eat. I sat down at the table, and started swaying in my seat and breathing slow concentrated breaths.

I remembered seeing pictures and scenes of women laboring on a medicine ball, swaying side to side on top of it. That is exactly what I wanted in that moment. Swaying on a ball sounded like wonderful relief from all the pressure I was feeling, and much better than the wooden chair I sat on.

But I sat on that wooden chair, and I swayed and I breathed.



My husband and my mom were looking at me with curiosity and concern as we gathered at the table, me with my eyes closed, doing my zen breathing. The pressure in my pelvis felt immense. I said to my mom, "I feel like my pelvis is going to break."

In my mind, I kept picturing a little rock with a pile of bigger rocks stacked on top of it. That little rock was my pelvis, weighed down by the pressure of everything above it. And my poor pelvis just couldn't do it anymore. Any minute, that little rock would crumble. Or that's how I felt, anyway.

As I sat there, swaying and breathing and wincing, my mom said, "I think you're going into labor, hun."

But I protested. "No, I've felt this before and it always goes away. It's always a fake out." Although I don't ever remember feeling the urge to sway like I was, which did make me wonder.

Man, that dinner looked so good, but the pain was just too much. All I could think about was getting in the bath so I could get some relief! So I immediately excused myself and bolted to the bathroom to get a bath going.

I wanted relief and I wanted answers, too. Taking a bath was always my test for real labor vs fake. There'd been several times already that I'd had similar pains, enough to make me wonder if I needed to go to the hospital. But I'd take a bath and that would always alleviate the pain, so I knew it wasn't true labor and I could skip the hospital trip. If the pains continued, then I would know this was more serious.

I got myself in the bath and felt that immediate relief. That hot water does wonders for my pain and made me feel so much better.

Yep. I knew it. Just another fake out.

Or was it?

After just a few minutes, I felt the pain coming back. It was a little more mild because of the bath, but not by much.

Hmmm...

I called my mother-in-law. She was working and on break so the two of us could chat. We'd made plans to discuss my induction the next day. She was trying to find a way to get off work so she could come to the hospital when it came time to deliver.

All throughout our discussion, I felt the pains come and go. I was just about to tell her, "Actually, I might be in labor right now," when my phone died. I got it plugged in and tried calling her back, but she was back at her desk working and couldn't answer her phone. Darn it!

I tried calling my sister-in-law too, who's supposed to be watching the boys when I left for the hospital. I thought it'd be wise to give her a heads up about the pains I was having. But I could't get ahold of her either!

More time passed and the pain continued. I was getting more and more sure this was actually true labor, but I still had my doubts, especially after all the fake outs I'd experienced the last few months.

I decided to pick a time. If I was still having pains by then, I'd go to the hospital. I'd left the doctor at 4pm and that's when my initial pains began. It was 6pm now and I decided I'd give it til 6:45 before I called it.

But my mom and my husband were already convinced.

I stayed put in the bath while my husband started packing a bag for himself. My mom kept checking in, wondering how I was feeling and waiting for me to decide it was time. She brought me some of her yummy dinner to eat, and I was very thankful.

After awhile, Nick set up a chair next to the bath. He sat there with his arms folded, waiting for me to figure it out. He laughed with my mom, telling her this was exactly like last time. And he was very right. When I went into labor with Ethan, I took a shower to get some relief from the pain. I ended up keeled over in the shower because the pain was so intense. All the while, Nick was wondering why we weren't going to the hospital, but I assured him it would pass. He was skeptical then and he was skeptical now.

He made fun of me about it, that I never take my labor pains seriously. Sitting in his chair, he said very calmly "I'll be okay. I just need a glass of water." Then he leaned back and cried out in pain. We all laughed, because it was pretty accurate!



I didn't wait til 6:45. I knew this was it.

I was in labor.

I was glad to have it happen on its own so we could skip all that induction business. But I was a little bummed to get the final evening taken away from me. I was actually looking forward to getting some sleep that night. I thought it'd be nice to go into labor after getting some rest, to wake up recharged and ready to go. Instead, I'd be laboring overnight, which I did with both Gavin and Ethan. Once again, I'd be pushing out a baby - or in this case, babies - all groggy and tired.

That said, I thought it was kinda cool that I went into labor right at 38 weeks, which is exactly when I went into labor with Ethan. It must be when my babies feel ready to come, though a little earlier might have been nicer in this case.

Since I couldn't reach my mother-in-law, I texted her instead and told her there was a change in plans. I was actually in labor now and would probably deliver soon after she finished her shift at 1am. She could come straight up after work and not have to worry about someone covering her shift the next day.

I started getting ready, and got a call back from my sister-in-law. She said she'd been out visiting someone and didn't have her phone on her. She was actually feeling worried I might go into labor while she was out. She said, "I'm sorry about that. I figured it'd be so bad if you went into labor right now. So, you aren't in labor, are you?"

"Yes."

I had a good laugh because she had no reaction at all to my statement. She simply kept going with her conversation, thinking I was joking! I had to interrupt her and say, "No, really. I'm in labor."

"Wait, what!? Really?"

I told her it was fine since my mom was there with the boys and we weren't ready to leave quite yet. But she told me she'd be over as soon as she could.

I took my time getting ready to go. My boys were outside playing in the yard and I was wishing I could spend more time with them before I left. But I realized I'd been blessed with far more days of play and preparation then I ever thought I'd have, so if I didn't get this one last night, that was okay.

I told the boys it was finally time for the babies to come. They'd been anxiously awaiting their arrival for a very long time, especially Gavin. I'd been telling him the babies would come when there was no more snow on the mountains, all the way back in January when there piles of snow all over! Gavin was quite frustrated by that, thinking we'd never get there! But now here we were with just a few tiny patches left. All else was green. It was time!

The boys wanted to come with me, of course, but I assured them they'd see me and the babies tomorrow. I hugged the boys and finally headed to the hospital at 7:30pm.

Guess I was going on a date with Nick after all. A date to the hospital.





We checked in at labor and delivery, which was a painful experience. My contractions were getting a lot more severe at that point, and I was wishing I was back in my bathtub! As I stood at the check-in counter, I kept looking behind me. There was a big soft chair there and I was tearfully wishing I was in it. Never did sitting down sound so good!

Instead I had to stand there - rocking and swaying and writhing - and answer some pretty stupid questions. "Do you know we don't have the right to discriminate against you?"

Are you kidding me? Discriminate me! I don't care! Just let me sit down!

I had to step on the scale as part of the check-in process. I'd gained a lot of weight with this pregnancy, which was okay considering the load I was carrying. But I never wanted to get into the 200's - pregnant or not - and here I was a few pounds over that. Aw, dang it! The nurses kind of laughed about it. "Don't worry. You won't be in the 200's for much longer," they said. Fair point.

They took me back to a very big room. I joked with the nurse, saying, "You're giving me the best room, right?" She told me that it was one of the biggest rooms they had. Sweet!

I got into the oh-so-flattering hospital gown and they came in and checked me. I hadn't progressed much since my appointment a few hours earlier but I was definitely having contractions so we got ourselves settled in.

The nurses were all very nice. They told me that they'd actually been very busy and had a lot of walk-ins over the past 48 hours. I said maybe it was the full moon happening that very evening.

Someone was supposed to call me that same evening and let me know when I'd be coming in for my induction the next day, but I never did get that call. The nurses said they were so busy, no one had gotten to the schedule yet.

It made me wonder if they'd have bumped my induction back because they were so busy. I was told that was a possibility. Inductions can get moved back if they have too many walk-ins and not enough staff. I might have seriously cried a little if that ended up happening to me. I was feeling so grateful to labor on my own and get this over with!



Never has anyone been more excited about labor. Those swollen legs and swollen belly were crying for relief!

A doctor came in soon after we arrived and broke my water. The babies were in their own sacs, so he just broke Baby Boy's water, who'd been sitting head down on my cervix for months now. I warned the doctor that I tend to make lots and lots of amniotic fluid, so they better grab a few extra towels and stand back. But there wasn't much fluid at all and that really surprised me.

Over the next little while, I kept feeling little bits of fluid coming out, a trickle here and a trickle there. I kept losing all these little pockets of more and more fluid from Baby Boy's sac. Finally, the nurse checked on things and could feel that the baby's head was basically acting as a dam. The fluid couldn't get out because his head was in the way!

The nurse wanted to get it all out. That way, the baby would put more pressure on my cervix and help move things along. So she pushed his head around a little bit so the fluid could pass by him. And boy, did it ever! The flood gates were opened and it all came rushing out. I felt vindicated. "Ah, there it is," I said.

While all this was happening, Nick was sitting nearby in full view of everything. He had a bit of a smirk on his face and it made me feel a little self-conscious for a second. I asked if he found me super attractive just then, with me in my sexy hospital gown and my mountainous belly, looking like a science experiment with tubes and monitors attached to me all over, and an ocean flowing out of me.

Hubba hubba!

He told me he was smiling to himself, watching the waves come out of me, thinking that I was probably back in the 100's now. Hey, good point!



I got an epidural a few hours after my arrival, and it was only a matter of waiting for things to progress after that. It was late by then, going on midnight, and I was starting to feel pretty tired. I dozed off for an hour and that did help a little. I was getting hungry too but they wouldn't let me eat anything. I was feeling really glad I ate some taco salad back at home or I'd have been super hungry.

As I was finishing up my midnight nap, I started to feel some pains come and go. I was laying on my left side, and starting to get some feeling back on my right. It was like gravity was pulling the medicine down to my left and leaving my right side without it. I wasn't sure why they'd asked me to lay like that with a slight tilt, since this clearly wasn't working well.

The medicine wore off quick. I went from a few suspicious twinges to definite contractions, and nearly all the pain was on that right side. These contractions were different from the ones I'd felt earlier. These were a lot stronger and a lot more frequent. It seemed like they were coming one right after the other. The nurse asked me my pain level and I said it was at a 7, borderline 8.

They tried to give me some relief. They had me lie on my right side instead of my left, and gave me an extra dose of the medicine. They told me to wait and it would get better.

But it didn't.

Nick came and stood by me. I was grabbing onto the bed rails and trying to muscle my way through each contraction. They seemed to be coming every 30 seconds at that point. Nick watched the monitors and said my contractions were going off the charts each time. With the contractions coming right on top of each other and feeling so intense, I was wondering if I was transitioning already. We had to be nearing the end with all this activity!

The nurse checked me and sure enough I was 7 centimeters, going on 8. Okay then, we were getting down to the wire.

The anesthesiologist came in and gave me a different medicine altogether, since our other attempts weren't working. Finally, I got some relief, maybe a little too much. I'd still had some mobility with the epidural. Now I could barely move my toes, especially on the one side! At least there was no walking required for awhile. I just had to push out some babies, that's all.

It was the middle of the night at that point, just after 2am, but we were getting close now and I needed to make some calls. I had a few people who wanted to be there when it came time to deliver. I couldn't have anyone else with me during delivery though, only Nick. I'd be in the operating room, which was standard procedure with twins, so only the spouse was allowed. But I thought it'd be nice to have a few family members there to send me off for delivery and greet me and the babies when we returned.

My mom texted just then. She'd woken up and was feeling like it had to be close now. She was right on target. I told her now was the time to come on up to the hospital. Funny enough, my mother-in-law had just arrived at my house straight from work, so the two of them were there and ready to go. I talked to my dad and invited him too.

I had my little party of people on their way and was getting pretty excited. We were so close now.

In fact, we were even closer than I thought. Soon after that phone call, they checked me again and said I was a 10! Wow! That went really quick! It'd taken me just a half hour to go from an 8 to a 10 and now we were ready for delivery!

I started to worry that my little gang wouldn't get there before they took me back to the operating room. I was hoping we'd stall just a little bit, but the nurses told me it was time. Thankfully, they had to call in a little team of nurses to get me ready to move rooms. I had all these IV's and monitors that needed to go back with me, so it took awhile for them to get all the pieces in place.

Well, they got there just in time!

It was my mom and mother-in-law and they walked in with just a few minutes to spare. We had some time to take a few pictures and chat just a bit. I was glad they could make it there to send us off.



They wheeled me down to the operating room and started setting up shop there. We had a few extra nurses join us to help get everything ready. I was happy to have such good staff. They were all very nice.

The doctor came in and joined in the prep work. I'd seen him just 12 hours before, but he was looking a little more bleary-eyed now. It was 3:30am, and he was just getting hit with some pretty bad jet lag after a week-long trip to Norway. I wondered if I should be concerned to have a tired doctor at the helm, but I wasn't. He was a very reputable doctor and I felt comfortable in his care.

In fact, I had no anxiety whatsoever. I only felt grateful and excited. So many things had fallen right into place to make this a good and happy experience, and I was so thankful. Now we were just moments away from meeting these babies!

All the prep took about 15 minutes, and then we were ready to push.

I don't think it was more than a minute before Baby Boy came right on out with just a few pushes. The poor guy had been sitting head down on my cervix for a few months now, putting so much pressure on me for so long. It didn't sound all that comfortable, not to mention another baby sharing the space in there. He was good and ready to come out and he came quick!

He came out crying with a very sad little frown on his face. He looked so healthy - not huge but certainly not tiny - and was very pink. My first impression was he looked a lot like Ethan. I have a video of Ethan's birth and had actually just watched it a few days earlier. Seeing Baby Boy there, I felt like I was watching that video all over again. One thing was sure - he had a good pair of lungs on him!

We said a quick hello to Baby Boy, both of us commenting on his similar look to Ethan. But we didn't get to visit too long because they wanted to keep moving forward. There was still a whole other baby in there, ready to deliver! So they whisked him into the next room where he continued to wail for a good long while. A few nurses tended to him there, getting him cleaned up and weighed and swaddled. He apparently hated every bit of it.

I already felt such relief from delivering our baby boy. All that pressure on my belly that I'd experienced all these months was finally going away. But there was still a whole other baby to get out!

They got right to it and broke the water for Baby Girl. Stand back, everyone. We've got more tidal waves coming. They used a big bag to catch all the fluid and I heard the doctor say, "I think we might go over the fill line here." One of the nurses was smiling and saying, "You can actually see your belly deflate as the water comes out."



It was only a few minutes and then the doctor told me to push again. I was so glad she was head down in the end. If she'd have been head up, I could have delivered Baby Boy and then attempted to flip Baby Girl before delivery. But there were no guarantees, of course. Sometimes that didn't work out and then you'd end up with a vaginal delivery for the first baby and a c-section for the second, with double the toll on your body. I wanted to avoid that at all costs. There was another option available, called breech extraction. Once the first baby is born, the doctor can reach in for the second baby, grab her by the legs, and pull her out! It's pretty nuts and somewhat risky but we'd discussed the possibility.

I was so thankful to bypass all that and just go ahead and deliver. Thank you, Baby Girl!

It took a little more effort to push her out, but not by much. She was halfway out when the doctor said Baby Girl was getting a little bit distressed. Normally they have you push just during contractions, but the doctor wanted me to finish the job and get her delivered safe and sound. So I kept pushing and pushing until she was all the way out. It just about two minutes of pushing, so it went quick, and we had our Baby Girl.

Baby Boy was born at 3:45am and Baby Girl at 3:56am, just 11 minutes apart.

I was feeling such relief. First, my belly had just gotten a whole lot lighter. Phew! Thank you! Second, everything had been so perfectly smooth. They were here, it was quick and easy, and everyone was looking good and healthy. Really, it could not have gone any better.

I wanted to get a good look at Baby Girl, my first and only daughter, but she was quite "cheesy" as the doctor called it. She was covered in this white film and needed a good wipe down. But she looked really good, with long limbs and a perfect head. And she seemed a lot more calm compared to her brother, who was only just starting to quiet down in the next room. She cried a little cry for awhile and then settled down as they started cleaning her up. She seemed like such a sweetheart.

Soon after her delivery, I felt the placentas come out. Although each baby had their own placenta, they ended up coming out a bit fused together. So the doctor held up this impressively large mass of placenta and we all marveled at it. It was something to see.

Between some good-sized babies, an ocean of fluid, and some hefty placentas, I was wondering how much weight I'd lost in a matter of minutes. I told my doctor that I felt like Mary Poppin's bag. More and more stuff just kept coming out! The doctor and nurses had a good laugh about that.



They invited Nick to come back to the room where they were getting the babies all cleaned up. I felt a little jealous that he got to see the babies while I was stuck in bed. It's like I do all the work and he gets the prize! What the heck? But the doctor had to stitch me up since I had torn a bit. I wasn't going anywhere.

After about ten minutes, Nick came walking back in with a baby in each arm. I was so happy right then, like this little firework of joy went bursting in my heart. It was one of the cutest and happiest moments of my life.

He sat down beside me and the nurses snapped a few photos. They told me that they both weighed 7 lbs 11 oz and they were all so amazed that I carried such big healthy babies. One nurse in particular was just so tickled that they both weighed the same. Another nurse told us she'd been delivering babies a long time and didn't ever remember seeing twins that big before. I can't say that making big twin babies was ever a goal of mine, but it was fun to hear everyone so impressed anyway.





I tried to get a good look at the babies and figure out their features, but it's always so hard when they're so brand new. Baby Boy had a bit of a bruised face from delivery. It was all pink and purple and puffy, the poor guy. So we'd have to wait for him to get better before we could fully appreciate his cuteness. All we knew was he looked a lot like Ethan and I could tell he had a strong masculine nose.

Baby Girl, on the other hand, was as perfect as could be and undeniably cute. Her head was smaller than any of ours boys and she had these beautiful little strands of dark hair on her head. She had a cute little nose and mouth and some very lovable cheeks. I'd done it! I'd made us a girl and she was a real cutie!

We probably spent about an hour in the operating room from start to finish. They wheeled me through the halls and back to my room. Nick was pushing a bassinet behind me with two little babies inside.

I came into the room where my mom and mother-in-law were waiting. My dad was there too and had arrived as I was delivering babies. They all swarmed the bassinet, anxious to see the new grandbabies. They all held them and took pictures and melted over the new arrivals.

It didn't take long before we all started feeling pretty tired. It was now about 5:30am and all of us were running on very little sleep or no sleep at all. So my visitors went home and I was looking forward to a little bit of rest.

New Arrivals

But rest would have to wait. We had two little boys back home who were very anxious to meet their new brother and sister, so they came later that morning to do just that.

I'd been so looking forward to this moment. Gavin is head over heals for babies and had been excitedly awaiting their arrival for months. He'd been talking to the babies all throughout my pregnancy, speaking right to my belly and telling them he loved them and would take good care of them. He would kiss my belly too, my left side and my right, a kiss for each baby. He was so sweet with them already and they weren't even out yet! So I was very excited for Gavin to meet them.

I knew Ethan was also excited, but a little more mild about it. I think he believed the babies were in my tummy because I ate them! I was curious to see exactly how he'd react once he met them.

Well, it couldn't have been any cuter. I filmed it, of course, and you can see the film here. Gavin shook with pure delight over seeing the babies, his mouth open wide and his eyes all lit up like he just hit the jackpot. Right away, he wanted to care for the babies. He grabbed a bottle and wanted to feed them.

My mom had lifted up Ethan so he could see the two babies sleeping in their bassinet. His reaction was downright adorable. He shuddered with excitement and kept patting the two babies and looking them over. With an enormous smile on his face, he told me, "Hey, Mommy, your babies come out. I love their little hands. They're pretty cute." He kissed them both and was so cute with them. It filled me with all the warm fuzzies to see these babies so loved.



We'd taken some time to get better acquainted with the babies that morning and take a look at their features. We noticed that Baby Girl was very long - her legs, her feet, her fingers, and toes - pretty much everything about her was extra long. She was destined to be tall like her daddy, no doubt. I had to laugh that of all four of my kids, it was the girl that ended up undeniably tall from the get go. Even in the womb, her legs were always measuring three weeks ahead!

We also noticed that she had a little swirl on her forehead just like Gavin. That cowlick keeps getting passed down. I had it, my dad had it, and his mom had it too. Who knows how far back it goes! As cute as it is, I know it'll present a few challenges for her later on. Styling that hair might be difficult, bless her heart. Gavin was thrilled to have a "swirl-buddy," though. I pointed it out to him when he first held her that morning, and he grinned and laughed and was just so tickled.



Baby Boy seemed pretty buff to me. He had these big arms and shoulders! I was impressed! We saw a hint of a smile and discovered an adorable set of dimples on Baby Boy. I love Gavin's dimples so much, so seeing another baby with those dimples just made my heart smile.

We pointed all their features out to the boys, who were so anxious to hold them. Gavin and Ethan were so cute, sitting on the sofa in my room with their hands up on their laps, palms facing up, waiting for a baby. There was a lot of cuddling and giggling from the boys. It was a magical moment.



We had a few visitors come and go over the next few days. My mother-in-law spent her time before work to come up and hold the babies whenever she could. My brothers came as well, and my sister-in-law too. One of my brothers happened to be in town from California that same week, so it was cool to have him there. And of course my mom brought the boys over a few times. We all discussed the delivery and the babies and their good healthy size.

My doctor came to check up on me and let me know I was the talk of the town with my big healthy babies. He told me his wife was "appropriately impressed" by the load I'd carried. "Impressed" was a word I was hearing a lot. But I had to hand it all to my body because it certainly wasn't up to me to do what I did!

My doctor asked about my recovery, and I have to say I was amazed by how well it all went! He must have worked some voodoo magic on me, because I had almost no pain whatsoever. I figured the stitches would hurt - they sure did with Gavin! - but I felt nothing at all and could hardly believe it. I was on pain medication, of course, but I still expected to feel more than I did after such a big event!

I felt like a million bucks, too, since my body was quickly returning to its original shape. I dropped a solid 50 lbs just a few days after delivery. Now that was exciting! My belly was looking a lot better than I expected after such a strenuous ordeal and my legs were relieved of all the swelling and pain almost immediately. My poor legs had been swollen for so long, I was in shock over how little and shapely they were once the swelling went away! Wow, are those really my legs? Cool!



But I did get pain elsewhere. My insides were hurting and it was a strange and unexpected sensation. Once the babies were out, they left this huge vacancy in my body, so it felt like all my organs were dropping down and trying to remember where they fit. I kept imagining them all piling on top of each other and getting twisted up and confused. I don't know how else to describe it, but it was achy and uncomfortable.

We all know that a growing baby pushes our organs all over, so I suppose two babies would take an even greater toll on our insides. It wasn't so painful when I laid down. But when I got up, gravity seemed to pull all my organs back down and my tummy would hurt again. They had a belly band for me to use, which I wrapped tightly around me. It did help alleviate the pain and it felt like my insides were kept in place a little better. I also made use of their jetted tub a few times to try and relax everything.

I learned that your abdominal muscles actually separate during pregnancy in order to accommodate your growing belly, the left and right muscles moving slowly apart. When you get as big as I did, those muscles can separate a lot and leave you with a pretty big opening (or gap) between your left and right muscles. Now you have a weakened abdominal wall and it doesn't hold things in place quite as well. It's called diastasis recti and I could tell I had it, which freaked me out a little. I learned that it often returns to normal on its own, but for now, it changed how my tummy was looking and feeling.



But I knew there was no going back after what I'd experienced. Carrying two big healthy babies was going to leave its mark on me, and I was actually pretty happy that it didn't look a lot worse than it did. If this was the long-term toll on my body, I was good with it.

I had another visitor come by, one of the hospital managers. She was very sweet and asked how my experience had been. Honestly, it was nothing but great. I was really glad I'd chosen to deliver there. The nurses had all been very good to me and helped me so much in caring for the babies.

They also spent a lot of time trying to help these babies learn how to nurse. They worked so hard with them and with me, but the whole breastfeeding thing ended up being a bit of a challenge. It was a bummer, because I'd done all I could to prepare. I'd bought special nursing pillows specifically designed for twins, since I'd learned that tandem nursing was the way to go! Nurse them both at once and cut down on time!

But we learned right away that these babies were not great nursers, and no nursing pillows were going to fix that.





Baby Girl would fall asleep at the breast almost immediately. We tried everything we could to keep her awake - getting her undressed, tickling her feet, rubbing her face - but nothing ever worked. It was like I put her under general anesthesia anytime I gave her a boob.

Baby Boy put in more of an effort, but was still a lazy eater. I felt like he didn't suck very well, so his efforts weren't getting him very far.

It made things a bit more stressful and the nurses did all they could to help me with it. Thank goodness for formula, which helped keep them fed that first little while. Since they were such lazy eaters, I decided I'd go ahead and pump to increase my supply. It was hard to stick with it since I had to pump so often in the beginning. But I'm glad that I did. I now exclusively pump and the babies get all the breast milk they need. I love that others can help me bottle feed and I love knowing how much milk they're getting. It all worked out well despite a rough start.



I had another visitor - one I didn't expect - and he came many times throughout my hospital stay. He was a marketing manager for the hospital and he'd heard about my twins. He wanted to feature them on their hospital billboards that are up off the freeway, which I thought was pretty cool! But he needed their picture and he needed their names!

Oh no...

Names!

Few things have been more stressful to me than picking names for my kids. Names have always been a bit of an obsession for me. I'm always on the quest to find just the right name, one that looks good and sounds good. I always write the name out in print, in cursive, and in all caps, and picture how it'd look on a business card. I also imagine the name being said aloud at an award ceremony when they read the name of the recipient and everyone claps. I do all that multiple times over until I find something that feels right.

I have a set of rules on what makes or breaks a name, and some people laugh at how strict I am about it. But I went looking for ideas on names that go well with the last name Taylor, and I felt vindicated when I discovered that there really is a science to it. There was a whole article going over how certain sounds flow better and why. All these rules were ones that I already followed. YES! So I wasn't totally crazy and just making things up!

It's all subjective, of course. But I feel like names are such a big part of your identity, so that's why I obsess over finding just the right one. They make an impression on people and you're stuck with it for the rest of your life, so it ought to be a good.

No pressure.

So here I was in the hospital, wanting to get some sleep, but instead I had the daunting task of coming up with not one name, but two! And every 12 hours or so, this poor man would come in hoping I had names picked out for my kids, but I was still deliberating. I got to where I'd feel a little anxiety whenever I'd see him coming through the door!

I had a running list of names I'd been thinking about over the last six months, something I'd been adding to as the weeks went along. I kept hoping that one of those names would jump out at me, but I had a hard time finding anything that would stick. I would literally go around my house yelling these names to see if it felt right! That had worked for Gavin, at least. I kept calling his name out and knew it was his. I was hoping for the same experience this time.

The only name that I kept coming back to was Aubree. It was a name I'd liked since I'd first heard it as a kid. It really stuck out to me then and had stayed with me over the years. We had a few others on the list, but I couldn't get myself to like them quite as much.

For Baby Boy, I struggled mostly between Jason and Alex. I'd been thinking about Jason, or Jase, for years but I liked the idea of naming him Alex to go with Aubree. I thought it was really cute pairing without being too over-the-top. For example, we were also considering the name Jayna for Baby Girl, but Jason and Jayna were just too similar too me.

My problem with Alex was how often it's used as a nickname for girls - Alexandra, Alexis, Alexa, etc. Even one of my nurses at the hospital was a girl named Alex, case in point. So it wasn't as masculine as I wanted it to be. But I had a hard time giving it up because I loved the Aubree and Alex pairing so much.



At the end of the day, though, I figured they'd be two separate people living two separate lives, so it really wasn't that important for their names to match. We both liked Jason a lot and kept coming back to it.

We finally made it official just moments before our discharge from the hospital. The poor marketing manager had given up on me and had finally stopped coming by. He'd given me his cell number so I could text him when I'd finally made up my mind. And I did:

They were Jason Theodore and Aubree Jane.

Coming Home

We came home Friday afternoon to two very cute boys who were thrilled to have us home. Gavin was especially distressed while I was gone, telling everyone that I should be home because I am his mom and need to take care of him.

The boys were all over the babies. They were so excited about them and wanted to hold them and feed them and cover them up in blankets and rock them in the swing. It was actually super stressful to have to keep such a close watch and make sure these babies didn't suffocate from their brothers' affections. Phew! This was gonna be exhausting!



And it was. I soon discovered that caring for two newborns takes a lot of time, day and night, even with two or three adults in the house. Thank goodness for those other adults, for all their sacrifice and hard work to help me out, or I surely would have been on some form of medication already. For now, chocolate is doing the trick.

Nighttime was hard. It would take me an hour and a half to feed the babies, get them swaddled and asleep, and then pump for 20 minutes. Then I would go back to sleep for an hour, wake up, and do it all over again.

I was averaging about three or four hours of sleep each night, and it was pretty brutal. Plus, they'd often have digestive issues and be grunting and crying through some of their discomfort. Sometimes we'd just have to hold them in order to get them calmed down so everyone could sleep. It always hit me hard in the mornings when the boys would wake up and I couldn't phase in and out of sleep anymore. I'd want so desperately to go back to bed, but that wasn't often possible.



I had people here helping me out and that did keep me sane. I'm so grateful for my tribe to help with the tasks around the house, help with the boys and the babies, and let me take a nap from time to time. It also makes everything a lot more bearable when you have an adult to talk to and feel like you can tackle it all as a team. It's most certainly not a one-man job, and even with two of us, there's a lot of juggling required.

I gotta hand it to the grandmas. My mom and mother-in-law have sacrificed so much of their time to be here for me, and it is not easy work. It's nonstop and around the clock and I'm so grateful for all the effort they've put in. I love how they use their different skills and talents to help out in different ways. My mother-in-law is good at the baby care and managing the day-to-day tasks. My mom is talented at tackling big projects and keeping the boys active and entertained. These kids of mine couldn't be more blessed to have such cool grandmas that are so involved in their lives, and I couldn't be any luckier myself to have all this help on hand.

Thank you, Grandmas. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.





When I'm on my own, I have to be very creative in how I care for all these kids. I've fed both babies at once with a bottle, and I sometimes lean a baby over my leg to burp him while I continue feeding the other. It's been interesting, and I sometimes amaze myself at how I find ways to accomplish so much at once. I'm getting pretty ambidextrous, I guess!



It's been eight weeks now and things are getting a little better. The babies are more awake during the day and sleeping more at night. They've had a few four hour stretches of sleep here and there, so that makes the nighttime not so bad. I don't have to pump as often, either, so I can get more than an hour or two of sleep at a time, and the babies seem to be digesting a lot better too.

Nick and I rotate shifts during the night, the two of us plus whoever is here to help out. Our helper will take one of the night shifts or help take care of the boys in the morning. There were many mornings that my mom kept the boys fed and entertained down in the basement so I could sleep in a little more.

It's gotten a little more complicated with school starting, though. Gavin is in kindergarten now, which is very exciting, and Ethan just started preschool. They both go in the afternoons so the schedule works out great, but it adds a little bit to the stress, getting them to and from school each day. It's going to be a busy year, for sure.



Come to think of it, it's gonna be a little crazy for a good long while. The first few years are always exhausting. You start with the neediness of newborns and then on to the tumult of todderlhood. It's hard work with one kid, so with two of them together, I imagine I'll be running on fumes for quite some time.

I once heard a twin mom say that when her twins turned five, she felt like she woke up from a concussion. From all I've seen, I think that's pretty accurate. I look forward to finding myself again in five years.

But now is my time for being a mother and caring for little ones. With our family now complete, I can finally leave all the treatments behind me, and it feels a little odd actually. My infertility journey has been such a big part of my life for so long, and here I am at the end of the road. I've finally crossed the finish line and reached my destination. 

No more ultrasounds and blood draws. No more needles. No more keeping track of pills and when to take them. No more hoping for good numbers, good eggs, good embryos, or a line on a stick. All that is behind me.

I'm truly grateful for all that I learned on this journey. So much of my personal growth over the last decade has come from my struggles with infertility and having a family. But I sure am grateful it's over.



Now I'm doing all I can to try and soak up these fleeting moments with my babies, especially knowing they're my last. I know it goes so quickly, and there's so much you forget. I feel so blessed that they've been so beautiful and sweet and I look forward to discovering who they are.

I've been amazed at how they've grown so quickly! They are both so big and healthy, Aubree especially. I feel like we zipped out of the newborn phase real quick. They're still little, of course, but definitely don't feel so fragile like newborns do.



Jase started out all swollen and sleepy, but he's become quite a charmer these last few weeks and is very interactive. He's engaging and alert, and I remember my other two boys were very much the same. He is quick to smile and it sure is cute, especially with those dimples and the happiness in his eyes. He seems like a lot of fun and I'm so excited to see his personality emerge.

He can sure cry when he's angry, though. Heaven forbid you change his diaper! It sounds like I'm poking him with needles with all the crying he does about the diaper change. It's almost funny, actually, with how dramatic it is. He's not a fan of bath time either. And if you don't feed him the moment he wakes up, he's going to work out his lungs until you do. He came out wailing and he's still quite the pro at it.



He reminds me of Ethan in that way. He's usually very happy and cute. But if he's mad, oh boy, are you gonna know about it! There's just these two versions of the same boy - super happy and super mad. But I've really bonded with him and am enjoying him so much. I knew I'd love another boy and I was right. He's such a fun and beautiful baby and I'm so happy to have him in our family.

Aubree continues to be mild-mannered and sweet. She's been a dream baby, really. She eats quickly and can sleep for long stretches. She isn't much of a wailer at all, either. Aubree will slowly wake up with little grunts and quiet cries. She's far less demanding than her brother and much more patient. I get the impression that she's more sweet and tender-hearted like her brother, Gavin. And he is sure head over heals for her! He loves both babies, but I can tell he's pretty smitten with his sister. He even told me they're going to be best friends when they grow up, and that just might be true.



I am smitten with her too. Really every part of her is just so beautiful and so different than my boys. She has this perfect little head with soft dark hair and she has these adorable eyes. Something about their shape is so cute and gets me every time. There's a sparkle there so I call her "beautiful bright eyes" because of their shine. She has a dainty little nose and beautiful lips, and I love caressing her long hands and feet. I couldn't be happier with how healthy and beautiful she is, and a sweet personality too. I really hit the jackpot with these kids.



With four little kids at home, it's hard to find time for a quiet moment. But, from time to time, I hold that baby girl close to me and think back on how badly I wanted a daughter, and all I did to get her here. As I rock her back and forth, I feel so much love for her, not just in my heart, but in my whole being. I nestle my nose to her beautiful fuzzy head and feel an overwhelming gratitude and peace. Finally, after so much time and so much work, I got my family and I got baby girl. I whisper in her ear, "Thank you for coming, Baby Girl. Mommy has waited so long for you and loves you very very much."