Goals in Baby Steps

It's been a really long week. The first couple days were spent trying to get my contractions under control. Then the next couple days were spent getting steroid shots and magnesium just in case the babies did come early (the steroids are for their lungs to help with breathing air, as they're not fully developed at just 24 weeks, and the magnesium is to help with their neurological development). Then it's been blood draws every day, along with an IV of antibiotics and now iron. The doctors are befuddled. There's been research done which shows the white blood cells start moving in preparation and release enzymes that begin to break down the tissue of the cervix for when a baby is ready to be born. My test results show my white blood cells are moving. After three straight days of blood draws at 6 am (and believe me, it's very strange waking up to state your name and DOB then get poked for blood), one of the maternal fetal specialists made the call to stop the blood draws. She decided there was no point in freaking out about this particular test result. My cervix has gone from 1 cm to 1.7 cm, which is great news. I figured once I started to 'flatten out', there was no going back. I was monitored for my contractions up until Tuesday, when the doctors decided to stop that as well because there was no rhyme or reason to them. I have many all day long, but I rarely feel any of them.
Today I got approved to go on a wheelchair ride. Bryan took me down to the cafeteria and we got individual pizzas. It was wonderful to get out of my 6x6 room, even though it was still within the hospital city limits. The nurses are all very sweet, and I have a sneaking suspicion they beg to have me as their patient. The nurse I had today, Erin, made the comment I was very low maintenance, and kept reminding me I am more than welcome to bug them for any and everything. They all can't believe how much work I do each day, and were blown away by how little the magnesium affected me. They kept asking me over and over again "Aren't you on magnesium?" I was affected, as I had become a normal human being, but they don't know me well enough to realize my super human powers were zapped. I also was moved to the penthouse suite. It's the only room on the maternity floor that has a view of nature, rather than hospital or parking structure. I watched the sunrise yesterday. The pinks and oranges were beautiful, and I was glad the northwest weather had abated just for me.
All of this is frustrating. I long to go home and continue bed rest from there, but then I have second thoughts and realize I probably really should be still here in the hospital. The maternal fetal specialist commented today it's better to be here, than for years question yourself with the What Ifs, if in fact the worst happened. The current goal is to keep me here until 26 weeks, which is 1 week away. Then my status will be re-evaluated and a new goal will be made. I have a feeling I will probably be here until week 28. I truly hope not, but if so, at least I know the babies are still growing inside me where they should be, and not inside incubators.
My sanity is being kept by my work each day, and the daily phone calls and texts from family. My boss today talked about what could be done to help me, meaning what work could be taken away, and I found myself almost begging to keep it, as I need it to keep my mind from wandering into shark infested waters. I'm also glad hospitals have gone away from the no cell phone days, as not having that connection to the outside world would be difficult. The many thoughtful texts and phone calls I've received have helped the time to pass and allowed me to vent my frustrations and worries, and helped me see how many care about our small family. But the highlight of every day is the 20-30 minutes I get each morning when the babies' heartbeats are monitored. The sounds of their racing hearts is soothing to my ears, and I love listening to them gallop wildly along. Who would've thought I would find something I would actually miss about hospital bed rest?

Twin Twist

Yesterday I went in for a regular ultrasound and learned my cervix had shortened significantly and the doctor was worried. I was monitored for contractions but nothing happened so I was sent home on strict orders of bed rest and to call if any cramping or contractions started. It was really hard to not get emotional, as I had been determined to not have to be a bed rest mommy, and the idea of our twins coming early really worried me. I did as the doctor said and went straight home to my bed. It was weird asking Bryan to run and get this and that, especially since I didn't feel 'sick' at all. During the middle of the night I awoke to some sharp pains on my left side and it was murderous trying to lay on that side. I sat up in frustration as sleeping's been uncomfortable for weeks. A few moments later after having some water and getting over my frustration, I realized my belly was tightening really hard. I shook Bryan awake in panic. I drank a bunch of water and laid down again, but a second contraction happened. We called the on call doctor, and were told if I had 4 more contractions within 40 minutes to go to the hospital. Forty minutes later Bryan had a bag packed for me and we headed north. Bryan was so sweet and found me a wheelchair so I wouldn't have to walk (since I am on bed rest orders). He wheeled me to Labor & Delivery and although I felt so strange, and knew I wasn't really in labor, I picked up the night phone and told the nurse "I'm pregnant with twins, am at 24 weeks and have started having..." and the doors swung open. They knew just from those few words what was happening and got me in right away. I truly wasn't expecting to "labor and deliver", just get my contractions under control and go home. So far, it hasn't been the case. Although I've had a couple shots and some pills to help with stopping the contractions, they keep coming back. They are becoming less strong, but not less frequent. The doctor who had seen me yesterday felt terrible for letting me go home, but I was fine with it. At least I knew what a contraction was now. Plus I knew my twins and I were in good hands. I've joked with the nurses it's because we have car seats and a crib, and maybe the fact we've settled on some names. I'm too prepared, and the babies knew it. But deep down, I know it's not the babies, nor is it something I did. My tiny frame doesn't allow for much growing room, and my uterus probably feels like it's stretched to the max and ready to be done. Too bad for it, as I'm not, nor are the babies. We're staying as we are, until at least 34 weeks. So for now, I have the most fortunate circumstances of hospital bed rest. The doctor and nurses are glad I can do work from 'home' as the boredom will get old quickly, and I have many a hobby to keep me busy too. I don't know that even being in the hospital is all that bad, as I'll have more interaction with people than I would at home...but it is only day 1. Hopefully it's only for a few days, and not a few weeks, or few months.

12 years

Today is our anniversary,
I want to thank my wife for twelve amazing years. I knew the first time we went out that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Jen has supported me in everything I have ever done. Right now she is enduring discomfort of mass proportions carrying our babies around. She never complains about it and glows with anticipation of their arrival. While we are excited to have the twins come into our life we have been very fortunate to have had 12 years to enjoy each other's company alone. We have been able to see and do a lot of things together and it has been wonderful. I love Jen more than I will ever be able to put in words. Thank you Jen for making my life what it is. I can't wait for the twins to get here and join us for many more amazing years to come.

Portland Prime AKA Portland Mediocre

This year Jen and I have been married for 12 years. We got married in 2000 which was a subconscious effort by myself to make it easy to remember how many years we have been married. 2012=12 years! I also subconsciously planned our wedding date to be near Valentines day so I could get all the hearts and flowers done in the same week ;) So today is our anniversary and the last as just a couple (babies will be here soon!). So I decided to take Jen to a fancy restaurant for dinner. I found what appeared to be the best place in Portland, El Gaucho. When I called to make a reservation they were booked... The subconscious scheduling of our wedding near Valentines backfired because everyone was doing a special valentine dinner this weekend. I had to pick another place. After some phone calls the recommendation was "Portland Prime". I looked them up online and they definitely seamed to be the caliber I was looking for. When we arrived the lobby was not set up well and it didn't feel like a 5 star joint. Should have turned back but we had reservations and finding something last minute was out of the question. The hostess didn't offer to check Jen's coat, another sign that this is a place pretending to be fancy. We were seated and the place settings were not fancy. The flatware was old, dull and beat up. The plates looked like they had been purchased when a Chinese buffet went out of business. The wine glasses were dirty, I mean dirrrrty. A gentleman poured us some tap water, another sign this isn't a fancy restaurant as a true 5 star joint would offer still or sparkling. When the waitress came for our drink order she didn't tell us her name nor did she offer the special(this will annoy me greatly later). We ordered beverages and the waitress seamed annoyed we didn't order any cocktails but hello even if we were interested in doing so Jen is PREGNANT! When I got my Cola it was flat, like a soda from McDonald's after being in the car for two days flat! The waitress was collecting our dirty unnecessary wine glasses when she asked if we needed another minute to look over the menu. Well we didn't but when I said we were ready she again seamed annoyed because she had to set down the wine glasses to take our order. If you weren't ready to take our order don't ask if we need another minute when I probably don't. When we received our salads they weren't bad but mostly pretentious with slices of apples and not enough dressing. We received our meals and there was no attempt at presentation when they plated up our food. The prime rib was average, nothing you couldn't get at Outback, Black Angus or any roadhouse. The best prime rib is still found at Hamilton's in Logan Utah. I ordered lobster tail with my meal because we were at a "fancy" restaurant in a big city which should equal good seafood. Wow was I wrong! The lobster tail was solid rubber...I mean I stuck my fork in to pull out a piece and the entire tail came in one piece, I tried cutting it with the steak knife but it was such rubber it just squished and wouldn't cut. It was so chewy it was like the bits of clam you get in canned clam chowder. It took a good couple minutes to chew through each bite. At this point they seated another couple and the waitress told them about the special, it was a great deal compared to the items we had selected but they hadn't told us about the special. Now I was really ticked. This was supposed to be the nicest dinner ever and it wasn't even as good as Texas roadhouse. So if anyone is wondering, we won't be going back to Portland Prime.

21 Weeks!

Our little girl has Bryan's nose and Jen's mouth and eyes.

Side profile of our little girl

The one and only glimpse of our little boy.

He turns his head every time they try to get a picture. He is upside down with his face to Jen's back. He kicks HARD and covers his face with his hands. He takes after his dad, who doesn't like his picture taken either :c

Today we went for our second official ultrasound. They took all the measurements to make sure they are growing even. Our girl weighs 15oz and our boy weighs 14oz. They are a week ahead of normal for a single baby which for twins is awesome. Boy's heart beat was 150, girls 151. All is well and Jen has them on quick bake so these cookies will be big and healthy when they come out.

Finally a sunny day roadtrip

The Veterinary Deliberation

Nivia at the vet's office right after the shot of Phenobarbitral, sound asleep.

Last Friday, while eating lunch, I heard a loud thump by our back door. When I peered over the couch to see what it was, I saw Nivia having a full grand mal seizure. I immediately leaped off the couch and ran outside in just socks. There was nothing I could do to stop it, and so I squished our babies as I crouched over her writhing body to stroke her head and tell her mommy was there and everything would be okay.
Back in September, we had Nivia and Jax kenneled at our vet's office while we were on vacation. We'd done it before, and the peace of mind of having your dog being taken care of 24/7 while gone is quite nice. Unfortunately, we got a call that Nivia had a seizure, but the vet's office was so rude to me and wanted so much money, that I had a really hard time believing them. She'd shown no evidence beforehand. She spent all day laying next to me while I worked, and all night sleeping next to my bedside. I would've noticed symptoms. Her kennel costs came to $400 while Jax only came to $80. In December, when we went to visit family, I had both dogs kenneled again, but at a different location. There was no call this time, and so I truly started to believe it had all been a hoax. However, when we picked her up, she had a fit of anxiety and went into a seizure. It was the first time I witnessed it happen to her and I cried like a baby. I felt terrible for not believing the vet's office back in September.
Since we'd had the original experience, I did have some medication I could give her. Right after the seizure finished, and Nivia seemed to snap back to reality, I gave her some water and food with the meds. We then put her in the garage, in her kennel, to keep her calm and help her to rest and relax. Bryan left the door open to the garage, so we could hear her in case anything went wrong. And was I glad we did. A couple hours later, she had another seizure in her kennel. It was very mild compared to the one at lunch, so although I was crying hysterically, I figured the med was just taking time to work into her system. Then at dinner time, she had another grand mal seizure. At that point I knew it wasn't good. We took her to the vet's office and waited over three hours to be seen. Although one receptionist was really nice, I was disappointed that my baby who was having medical meltdown wasn't given a higher priority. When she finally was seen, she was behaving quite normal. The vet's only recommendation was to hospitalize her so they could monitor her. Bryan was beyond irritated, and opted to make sure we had enough medication to take home, and told the vet we'd be better at monitoring her than them. We waited another 45 minutes for the office to compile the medication and finalize the bill, and during that time, Nivia had another seizure in the back of the truck. Bryan was still fed up with the vet's office, and from the information we had, we thought nothing else could be done. The vet had said the medication would take time to build up, and said Nivia would probably have a few more seizures. We took her home, as we still felt it was the best option. Once home, I hauled Nivia into the bathtub and soaped her up good to get all the grunge off her. Bryan had to hose out the back of the truck, and got her bed all set up nicely in the garage. We then had to listen to her bark like an untrained puppy for almost an hour until she finally calmed down and went to sleep. I hoped a good night's rest, with a second pill in her would break her seizure streak. How wrong I was.
The next morning, Nivia seemed a little dazed, and I chalked it up to her ordeal from the day before. We sent her outside with Jax, and within a few moments, she was having another seizure. At that point, Bryan started researching on the internet. We brought her into the garage again so we could keep her closely monitored, and left Jax outside. Poor Jax had no idea what was happening, and we didn't want him to get in the way by accident. After much whining, Nivia finally fell asleep again, only to be awoken by yet another seizure that had me bawling. My puppy was sick, extremely sick, and I felt so helpless as I squatted over her, trying to soothe her as best I could. Bryan found some information on the net that a dog with constant seizures can be given a shot of medication that will most times help break the cycle. We searched the yellow pages for another vet clinic, and found an emergency vet. We called and explained the situation. They were very helpful and asked us to bring her in immediately. When we arrived, the receptionist paged "Triage to the front". Bryan and I looked at each other in surprise, as it seemed kind of odd to hear those particular words, but at the same time, I felt relieved that finally someone was taking this seriously. The 'nurse' took Nivia back to a kennel, where she proceeded to once again bark like an untrained puppy. We sat in the waiting room, with tears in our eyes. After a few minutes, the nurse came and got us, and asked if we'd feel comfortable sitting in an exam room with Nivia. Absolutely we would! It was exactly what Nivia needed to calm down. The vet that saw her decided to give her the shot we'd read about online. He said it would make her act exceedingly drunk, but would hopefully break the cycle of seizures. They took her back again to give her an IV and administer the medication. After a few moments, we could hear her barking again. Not too long after that, they asked us to sit in a different room that had a couch and chair, and brought in a thick blanket for Nivia to lie down on. They asked if we would help her calm down and see if we couldn't get her to fall asleep. I think the vet was somewhat skeptical, but he doesn't know my baby girl like I do. She came into the room drunker than a skunk. She couldn't keep balance well, her back legs kept slipping out from under her, and she bumped into everything. We got her to lie down within a couple minutes, and she was gone with her tongue hanging halfway out of her mouth. When the vet came in five minutes later, he couldn't believe his eyes. He said usually they keep dogs in the clinic over night when administering that kind of medication, but since Nivia was having such a hard time, he suggested we take her home with us. I was more than happy too. Once home, we got her all setup in the garage again with a bunch of blankets and towels to help make the floor more comfortable. Within minutes she was snoring. Since that shot, she's only had one mini seizure. We have her on the medication steadily now, and our baby girl has slowly regained her former personality. She's normally high strung, with a slobbery kiss for anyone who gets near her, but the shot toned down that hyperness for a few days.
It's been a week now since the seizures started. I'm so grateful I haven't had to witness another since that last mini seizure. It was heartbreaking to say the least. I truly thought when we called the second vet clinic, I'd be leaving my baby girl there forever. The idea she may not be with us anymore mixed with pregnancy hormones made me inconsolable. Today she gave me a huge scare. When I went outside to check on her, she was nowhere to be found. She had somehow escaped the backyard. I went huffing and puffing down the street as fast as I could waddle screaming out her name and whistling. I was distraught at the thought of her missing. What if she had another seizure? What if we never found her? What if she got hurt, or I happened to find her dead on the side of the road victim of being hit by a car? I was in tears on the phone with Bryan, as it had been at least a couple hours since I knew I'd last seen her. When I didn't find her at the elementary school around the corner, I huffed and puffed back to the house, finally came to my senses and hopped in the truck to go looking for her. I didn't even get one house down the street when she came bolting around the corner. I burst into wracking sobs, slammed the truck in park, and jumped out to give her a ginormous hug. I cried and cried into her coat, and she patiently let me, then gave me slobbery wet kisses. My usual self would have given her a good yelling, but pregnant Jenny couldn't. I was so glad my baby girl had finally found her way home.