Feeling Needy

I need to commit to a yoga practice.  The occasional sun salutation and tree pose performed sporadically every few weeks does not count as a yoga practice.  I need the balance and calm that comes from a daily practice.  I need to release of endorphins.  I need the boost in my sex drive.  Even if it's just for ten or fifteen minutes a day.  I *need* this.


And yet, I cannot seem to find the time for this.  Such a tiny fraction of time out of every given day.  Ten minutes out of 1,440 minutes.  We are talking about less than 1% of the day devoted to calming and centering myself so I can be a better and happier person.  A better and happier mother.  A better and happier wife.


Less than 1% of a day dedicated to myself so I can be more fulfilled in connecting with those around me.


Less than 1% of a day to simply...breathe.


I need to clean my house.  I need to get rid of the clutter.  Eric and I have committed to getting rid of 1/3 of all our stuff.  This should be easy.  On any given day I hardly use any of my possessions.  


I own far too  many clothes of which I wear a small and select few items.  The fact that I even own high heeled shoes is ridiculous!  I do not imagine I am *ever* going to wear those mauve, open-toed, sling-back heels ever again in my life.  They match one dress that I may not even own anymore and they are not comfortable.  The thought of wearing them, even for an event if I even still own that dress, is ludicrous!  My bunions scream "Hell NO!"


I used to purge my closet annually.  If I hadn't worn an item in the past year it either went into the trash or to Goodwill.  I fell out of that habit a few years ago.  Last year, while pregnant, I didn't feel the need to do this ritual.  I didn't know what clothes I may be wearing in the months or year to come, so to get rid of things I might wear wasn't logical.  This year the purge will happen.  And I'm sure I can get rid of at least 5% of my clothes and shoes.


I have two massive CD racks.  Each holds close to 1,000 CDs.  After 16 years in the music business, I have amassed a grand music collection (which is certainly far smaller than the collections of most other industry veterans I work alongside). But here's the truth -- I don't listen to the vast majority of this music.  There have to be at least 100 - 200 CDs that are still shrink-wrapped.  What's the point of even owning these?  And yet, I don't want to get rid of them.  Not until I have gone through the collection and incorporated them into my digital music collection.  And even then, do I get rid of the physical product or find a way to store them?


Mind you, the racks are against one wall in the living room which would really have no other purpose, except for possibly hanging artwork.  The wall runs perpendicular to our front door and putting furniture against it would impede entry into our home.  They may not serve a greater purpose, but at least they are neat and orderly.  To me, they are not clutter.  And yet, when the time comes that I do purge this collection, I will likely only keep 10% of the actual CDs.  


I also own a fair number of LPs.  Getting rid of the vinyl is a non-starter.  I'm keeping that collection.


But therein lies part of my problem.  I like my collections.  I like my lunch boxes and Pez machines.  They are arranged atop our kitchen cabinets.  They are not in the way or occupying otherwise useful space.  I like the tangible throwback to childhood in these items.  Yes.  I am an adult who likes her toys.  But do I need them?  They are an easy target in the 33.33% purge process.  They are not needed.  So what's a girl to do?


We do have too much "stuff" for the sake of having "Stuff" and life would be simpler without so much Stuff.  We wouldn't have to constantly be cleaning up Stuff and trying to find homes for Stuff.  We would have things of use and value and logical homes for such things.


Yes.  Life would be simpler.


And perhaps I wouldn't be so stressed about the Stuff.


Perhaps I would be able to find that 1% of my day to deal with the important things.  To tend to my needs. To relax.  To find calm within to allow me to be a petter person.


And I really need to find the calm within.


Breathe...


I really need to commit to a yoga practice.

I Am Not Super Mom

Mothering is not a competition.

I feel the need to state this in a clear, concise manner.  I know this to be the case.  We all, as mothers, as parents, do what we feel is best for our respective children.

And yet I feel like my mothering is being co-opted by another first time mom.  It’s silly really, but I have to mention this.

This other mom and I were speaking the other day.  She asked if Morgen was eating solid foods yet.  I said she was and told her a few of Miss M’s favorites.  I also admitted that she hasn’t had more variety since I’m making her food and haven’t been able to set aside more time to prep more types of food.

This other mom proceeds to call me “Super Mom” and say sheepishly that she’s buying an organic baby food for her little one.  I say that’s totally fine.  We all only have so many hours in the day.

So, later that evening she posts a picture on Facebook of the baby food she made with the caption “Success! Guess who's trying squash for the 1st time tomorrow? My how life has changed...I spend my friday nights making babyfood now.”  I’m glad she received so many “likes” and comments of “ur a good mommy” (I also like how it sounds like this is what she has been doing with her Friday nights for months now).

Should I care?  Not at all, but I can’t help but feel like she felt one-upped by me so now she’s making her son’s baby food.  You have to understand, it was this way during our pregnancies and after the kids were born.  She has actually made a few comments since Sonne’s passing that were really thoughtless and suggested that being a mom of one is harder than I realize since I had twins.  Yes…she basically suggested that if I only ever had Morgen, I would think she was difficult.  (And Morgen is a VERY easy baby, although compared to Sonne she is a needy kiddo.)

Perhaps I’m misreading her photo post.  Perhaps I inspired her.  After all, by her own admission, I’m “Super Mom”!  I’ve survived the death of one of my girls and am carrying on to care for the other.  I’m following through with those things we decided we wanted to do for our children when I was carrying them.  I must be that fantastic! (Yes…I type that with every ounce of sarcasm my fingertips can elicit.)

We are still cloth diapering our daughter.  Most people scoffed at that thought – “Let’s see how long you keep that up – especially with twins.”  We are making her baby food using a steamer and a blender – “You really need one of those baby food makers if you’re going to make enough food for two.”

Mind you, there are days when I cannot even imagine the having energy to care for twins.  Days when I am exhausted from work and an evening of little sleep and I have no choice but to do it all again because Eric is on location.  Those days when I’m just running on empty.  Those days when taking care of Morgen feels like more than I can handle.  I have no idea how single moms handle it all day after day.  I commend them.

And yet, had Sonne survived her surgery, I wouldn’t know any better.  I would be happily exhausted.  I would be cloth diapering my girls and making even more baby food on the weekends to fuel their ever growing little bodies and minds.

Had Sonne survived, perhaps I would accept the moniker of “Super Mom.”

Perception Is Everything

My eyes were opened this weekend and I feel like I'm seeing things a bit more clearly now.

I went to visit a friend in the hospital.  He suffered a head injury a little over two months ago while riding his bike and is on the long, slow road to recovery.

While I was visiting with him and his wife, he had a physical therapy session.  With the aid of a lift, he was able to stand up.  I don't think one truly appreciates the effort it takes to stand up or to hold up one's own head.  The therapists worked with him for a solid five or ten minutes.  By the end he was exhausted.  They helped him back into bed and, though he was a sleep a few minutes later, he did motion to his wife to come close and once within reach, he pulled her to him.  That moment was the best.

The strength and fortitude exhibited by my friend and his wife are inspiring. While I can understand a small piece of their journey (the one dealing with the bullshit between hospitals and insurance companies), I cannot begin to comprehend having to relearn the basics. I cannot comprehend wondering if things will ever get completely back to normal.


I found myself thinking about Morgen and her learning how to sit up, crawl, grasp things, etc.  I even remember her and Sonne learning how to nurse in the NICU.  How much work goes into learning what become simply, everyday tasks which we, as adults take for granted.


I did something to my back last night -- most likely while trying to get the dogs inside during a 2:00am barking fit.  I kicked the dog beds out of the way and pushed the trunk in front of the dog door to keep them inside.  I'm sure in the process I wasn't paying attention and tweaked my back.  As the day has progressed, the tightness has increased and the knots have become more pronounced.  I put on a patch prescribed for pain relief and to reduce inflammation.  I took some ibuprofen. 

I have little to no relief and find it incredibly difficult to move and yet I am so grateful.  I am still able to move.  This pain will subside and I'll be back to full mobility in a few days.  I am lucky.

Yes.  I am a fortunate woman and I am going to try harder to not take the simple things for granted.

Despite the back pain, I'm going to hug my daughter a little tighter, a little longer.  I'm going to throw my arms around her father the moment he gets home on Saturday.  I'm going to tell people that I love and appreciate them more often.  I'm going to strive to always come from a place of gratitude and compassion.

Namaste.

A Numbers Game

Today isn't my best day.  I just have to accept that. 

On the one hand, I had a great weekend celebrating my 39th birthday with my mom and sister.  They flew in to surprise me which was wonderful.  On the other hand, as I tried to fall back to sleep after they left at 5:30 this morning, I felt so lonely. 

I miss Eric.  He'll be home in two weeks.  That time will pass quickly.

I miss Sonne.  I can't bring her back.  I so miss the challenge of taking care of both her and Morgen.  It's gotten to a point now that I cannot really comprehend what having twins would be like now.  That makes me sad.  Just having the one baby is the new normal.  It's has its own challenges, but it isn't the same.  And while Morgen is amazing and taking care of her is so fulfilling, there is still this emptiness.

Something is missing.

I'm trying to stay focused on positive things.  It's hard when I hear so many complaining.

I didn't do well this weekend with not eating refined sugars.  So, my resolve to not eat any for one month has an extra week tacked on for good measure. 

On the upside, I'm making good progress in physical therapy.  The strength in my ankle is almost back to 100% (only a slight weakness through the big toe flexion) and the range of motion is markedly improved, although there is still a ways to go.  Four more weeks of PT recommended.

I need to figure out my budget better.  My expenses were way higher than I planned due to the NICU bills (some of which are still coming in).  I need to figure out how to pay those and how to get money back into savings.

I need to figure out how to take better care of myself so these funks don't throw me for such a curve.  Maybe I just need a good night sleep tonight and all will be right as rain tomorrow.

Hopefully I'll be able to get back to the gym regularly once Eric gets back to town.  I need those couple of hours each week to decompress, focus, and re-energize.

Sigh....I wish I knew what came next so I could get prepared and not feel like everything that's currently bringing me down will be compounded.

Warning: Judgmental Rant Contained Within

I received a text message last night from a woman with whom I used to be incredibly close.  We used to work together, but she moved away years ago.  She attended my wedding -- stoned on various prescription meds, I think -- and stuck her finger in my wedding cake because she thought it was fake.  Almost every time I hear from her it is to complain about something or ask me for something.  Never is it to say hi or see how my life is going.

She was recently in town visiting .  She came by and met the girls.  She actually said, "I thought something went wrong because I hadn't heard from you."  What?  Whatever.  She kept freaking out if holding one of the girls and they spit up  "What the hell?  Did you just puke on me?"  Yeah...put the baby down and get out.

Eric and I both agreed that she won't be near our kids ever again.

And then, after not hearing from her in a month, she texts to tell me that she's pregnant.  Of course, she doesn't know who the father is since she slept with a few different guys while here and also back home.  Brilliant.

I wasn't going to tell her about Sonne, except that she asked how the girls were doing and I wasn't going to lie.  When I texted her back that Morgen was rolling over and Sonne didn't survive her heart surgery, I also told her I wasn't up to talking.  I just could not deal with her calling and having to console her.

Here is someone who really hasn't been able to handle life for close to a decade and she's sleeping with guys and not mentioning that she's not on the pill and taking a world full of meds to dull her senses and now she's going to be a mother?

And of course it's her right to have kids, but I cannot imagine her being a good parent.  She is so self absorbed and so self destructive.  She's always wanted to be a mom, but wanting to be mom and actually being a mom are such different things.

Who knows...maybe she'll surprise everyone and get her act together and be an amazing parent and raise a wonderful kid.  I hope that will be the case.  Either way, I'm not planning to be around to see it.  I let the boat sail on that friendship a while ago.

I know this is incredibly judgmental of me, but I cannot help it.  We went through so much to conceive and so much with the girls in the NICU and now we are living with this void and it sucks.  It isn't fair.  It isn't right.

To top it all off, we picked up Sonne's ashes today.  There is a tiny urn sitting in front of our hearth waiting for the day when we scatter her over the ocean.  And of course, the funeral home or someone at the city's board of health messed up the name on her death certificate, so now I have to deal with getting that corrected.  It's like every time I try to put part of this behind me it rears up to bite me in the ass one more time.

Sigh....

Anger and Sorrow

I haven't posted here in a long time.  Once the girls were born I started a new blog dedicated to them and it seems that I only wanted to write about them.  The Morgen Sonne Report chronicled their time in the NICU, home and Sonne's time at Children's Hospital.  That blog will soon be retired and I will be writing to each of the girls on their own blogs.

For those who might follow this blog, you probably don't know.  Sonne did not recover after her heart surgery.  (Heart Surgery?  This is where I refer you to the blog about the girls for the details as I don't have it in me to go through it all again.)  She passed away on August 31st, a mere 3 and 1/2 months old.

I am angry.  I am sad.  I am confused.  I am devastated.  Not just for me, but for my husband and especially for Morgen.  She was robbed of her sister.  It isn't fair.

I know...life isn't fair.  But I'm good at stating the obvious.

Today we have Sonne's memorial service.  We are celebrating her short life.  She gave us so much in just over 16 weeks...

So, the Morgen Sonne Report will be retired shortly.  Meine Sonne Schient and Guten Morgen Morgen will replace it.  Those who want to follow letters to Sonne and Morgen are welcome to check those out.

I'm sure I'll be posting here again at some point, but it won't be as regular as it had been last year while going through IVF and pregnancy.

Ten Days in the Hospital

It has been a long time since I last posted to this blog. That was due, in part, to my not really having anything new to say about my pregnancy, but also due in part to the pregnancy related numbness in my right hand. I honestly don't believe I've had feeling in the fingers of that hand since about mid-March. Fun stuff.

And the edema just got worse and worse with each passing week. I actually put on 14 pounds in 10 days and completely freaked out. My doctor said I shouldn't worry because the edema weight gain tends to be exponential with multiples. Awesome. So I tried to relax and not worry about it until my next prenatal appointment. That appointment was on Monday May 9th.

I wasn't feeling great when I arrived. I was crazy swollen with the edema and just plain worn out. They were also running late so I sat in the waiting room for a while after arrival. And as any pregnant woman knows, the first thing you do upon arrival is leave a urine sample so they can check for increased protein levels. I took one look at my sample and knew something was wrong.

My check up which showed the babies were fine, but my protei levels were high as was my blood pressure. My doctor was having me admitted to the hospital. This is when I started to cry. It was too early. I was only 31 weeks along. Eric was out of the country working on a film. I got the sense from my OB, however, that the hospitalization would be for 48 hours and, if I didn't deliver during that window, then I would be home on bed rest until the babies arrived.

I was wrong.

I drove home to pack a quick bag and Kristine drove me back to Cedars. I checked in and was brought to room 3005 in the Maternal Fetal Care Unit (MFCU) where I was promptly ushered into a gown, the bed and a hooked up to a whole bunch of monitors. Shortly thereafter a team came in and did a very detailed ultrasound of the babies. Then it was about making me comfortable despite the fetal monitors and BP cuff and IV and crappy magnesium sulfide (sulfate?).

The next morning I was still under the impression that I might go home after 48 hours. That was until Eric called me after speaking to my OB who said the next time I go home I would be a mom. The 48 hour window was critical to getting meds on board to help the babies, but after that, they would be monitoring my vitals and hoping to get any additional time possible before having to deliver. Eric arrived at the hospital at 11pm Tuesday evening and this began our waiting game.

During the next few days I was looked after by a team of doctors and nurses and residents. All were truly amazing and caring and did everything they could to keep me calm, comfortable and prepared for the road ahead - not just for me, but also for the girls since they would be delivered early. Meds were administered, blood was drawn and tests run. Things were okay for the most part until Friday evening. The anxiety of doing nothing finally won over by that evening. I had had enough. I was uncomfortable, the edema was ridiculous and I had actually put on 17 pounds since Monday. It was almost all water weight since they really hadn't been feeding me anything. I was damn close to walking out of the place (even though I could barely walk because of the swelling).

The next morning the head obstetrics came by to say that they were concerned about my BP levels from the previus night, but that they were going to watch and wait since the first reading that morning was acceptable, still high, but acceptable. Eric went to get a cup of coffee and I laid back and closed my eyes. A few minutes later another doctor came in to let me kinow that my lab work came back and, well, my liver enzymes had spiked massively and the various doctors at Cedars conferred amongst themselves and with my OB and they would be delivering the babies ASAP.

Then came the start of the activity flurry as the nurses came in to prep me for the c-section. The magnesium drip was started again and within moments I was on fire from the medication and just feeling awful. An anesthesiologist came in to introduce himself and then the OR nurse was in talking to me and the MFCU nurses. Luckily Dr. Kilpatrick (head of OB) saw Eric by the Starbucks and made a beeline over to tell him to get upstairs for the babies's delivery since I hadn't had a chance to call him since the flurry began so quickly.

A few minutes later I was wheeled to the OR, a spinal was administered and my legs turned into numb, lead weights. Drapes were hung, my OB walked in and then Eric and within a few minutes the girls were born at 31 weeks and 5 days (a little over 8 weeks premature).

Morgen - 5/14/11 9:53am 3 lbs 11 oz.
Sonne - 5/14/11 9:54am 2 lbs 10 oz.

The girls and dad headed up to the NICU while I was stitched back together and brought to the PACU recovery room. My OR nurse Jeannie kept telling me that I did a great job keeping those girls in almost an additional week. Eric was back to see me and report on the girls fairly quickly. As I was resting and waiting for the spinal to wear off, he went back up to see the girls and his mom came into sit with me. As soon as I could move my feet and toes it was back to the MFCU for 24 hours since they needed to keep the magnesium drip going and monitor me.

I was finally able to go see them at 8:15pm on Sunday - nearly 35 hours after they were delivered. Those hours were amongst the longest in my life.

Over the course of the next several days the doctors kept adjusting my medications to try and get my BP under control. It finally balanced out on Wednesday and by Thursday I was discharged. Armed with BP medication and ibuprofen for painn we are finally home and have begun to figure out how the next six to eight weeks of our life will look as we start daily commutes to the hospital to see the girls.

Neither of us think it will be easy, but we will figure it out and strike some sort of balance between the hospital and regular life. All we know for sure is that we love each other and will support each other through this, we have an amazing network of family and friends to help us with anything we need, but most important, we are both falling more in love with these girls with every passing moment.