Twinkie Tips


Hey there friends! With summer in full swing, I hope you’ve all gotten a chance to have some fun in the sun. For those that are chasing tiny humans around this summer, I hope there has been plenty of wine in the equation for you when the sun has gone down.

Last weekend my tribe and I road tripped to PA so we could visit Hersheypark. Hershey was a long standing tradition throughout my childhood years. We would pile in the car, always stop at Cracker Barrel, and spend a day in the park for a quick mid summer getaway. I have fond memories of these summers spent in Hershey and was excited to start the same traditions with my own family. The twins are MUCH younger than I was when I started going, so there was a realistic expectation that I needed to go into this trip with as it would be a little different than when we went as a family. Now that we’ve had our sweet weekend of “hersheypark happy” there were a few things I thought I’d share so you all would have tips if you do decide to go away with your little, little ones. We had a great weekend filled with fun, and we came out unscathed, but this was for sure an exhausting trip that left this mama needing three days to recover from a day and a half away.

A few things to consider the next time you brave a weekend away with your kiddies:

secure an extra set of eyes and hands
If there’s one thing that made this trip an easier experience, it was having my sister and my dad traveling with us. At best, no matter where we go with the twins, we are at an equal number of babies to adults. This can get dicey at times. The four extra eyes and hands ensured at any given time, myself or my hubs could get a break. Also, there was always someone available to hang out and keep the tiny humans occupied while the rest of us big humans rode the rides.

babyproof your hotel room
I hadn’t thought about this prior to leaving. This was the first time we had stayed with the twins in a hotel. While we have been away from home with them a few times, we have always stayed with family. Let me just say; there are a lot of new things for the twins to discover roaming around a single hotel room. You’d think a room so small wouldn’t hold a million ways for them to get hurt and for mama to panic but low cut and behold I learn more and more on the job as a parent than I thought I would. A few things that were most helpful to us? Keeping the bathroom door closed at all times; this prevented any accidents and desires for little hands to play with little toiletries. Taking the garbage bags out of the garbages and putting them on a high surface out of reach from the kids; I don’t know why but my children were fascinated with throwing things in the garbage. However, this would have been much more helpful if they had been throwing away actual garbage and not important items I needed like their shoes, my sunglasses, etc. We just threw actual garbage away in the bags placed high up and let the kids throw whatever they wanted in the trash cans. This also made it so I didn’t have to worry about one kid suffocating themselves. We basically redecorated; everything was moved into a place where the twins couldn’t touch it including the clock radio, sound machine that we brought, etc etc. One other thing to keep in mind ? There are a LOT of surfaces that are within reach of mischievous toddlers so be wary or you’ll wind up like I did…. watching your kid dump a Red Bull, and then a can of soda all over herself. Oops.

have a plan for the day if you are going to an amusement park or doing an activity
This was something that the usual planner in me didn’t really do and it led to some stressful moments and arguments between me and hubs. Think about nap and meal times to alleviate toddler (and adult) meltdowns. I made the mistake of getting the kids all changed for the water park in hersheypark during their usual nap time (a 45 minute ordeal when you factor in both kids, sunscreen, and changing myself) and then when all was said and done, they were ready to nap and all that work was for naught. VERY frustrating to this mama and I should have thought about it sooner to save time and aggravation. Bring your own food into the parks (if permitted– but it usually is) because again, a mistake I made was trying to feed my kids the park food when they were already off schedule and cranky. They wound up eating an applesauce and some animal crackers that came with their kids meal and it was money wasted. I could have saved myself some cash if I had just prepared some good ol’ pbj beforehand. Then by the time we left the park, I had an #assholeparent moment realizing they hadn’t had dinner so I ran through a panera and chased them around a hotel room at 9pm trying to get them to eat. Learn from my mistakes!!

skip unreasonable souvenirs
You will be tempted to get your kids cute stuff at the park. You will. Your kids will show interest and you will oblige and get them something that glows or makes some annoying sound. For us, it was a bubble machine. We walked around swearing we needed it because the twins were so excited anytime they saw the bubbles! We bought it (an overpriced $20) and then of course chaos ensued because we only bought one and they couldn’t figure out how to use it on their own (and we haven’t learned sharing yet.) The thing wound up leaking bubble soap all over the top of the stroller where I had strategically placed it out of kid-view and I’m pretty sure it has remained in the trunk of our mini van ever since.

Each adventure we take with these kids, I learn something new. Hopefully these tips will save you troubles on your next venture! We had a ball though and I would recommend a Hershey trip to anyone, no matter the ages of your children.  You’d be surprised just how many little babies we noticed there. If anyone has any life-saving travel tips they have acquired over the years, share them! Until next time, happy travels!


Twinadoes Take South Carolina


Hi friends! Summer is upon us and my tribe is VERY excited. We have a lot of  things planned for this summer and some things will probably prove to be quite the adventure with the twinkies. We recently kicked off summer by traveling to South Carolina to see family. My husband is originally from the palmetto state and my mother, father and sister in laws all still reside there. I have to tell you, the anticipation of taking this trip gave me some extreme anxiety. The first time we flew with the twinkies, we had two extra people accompanying us and four extra hands to help make things a little easier. This go-around, it was just me and William braving it with the twinadoes. I couldn’t help but wonder how the logistics of everything was going to play out.

We (surprisingly) got packed up, left the house and arrived at the airport on time. We let the kids roam the airport a while in the hopes of tiring them out so they would sleep the better part of the flight. There were, for sure, a few judgmental glances and aggravated individuals watching these two peanuts crawl and walk in all directions through the gate. But, I really didn’t care considering we were trying to make the flight a more pleasurable experience for ALL PARTIES.  We boarded, got seated, and things we going seamlessly. But I know better than to trust it when things are going just a liiiiitle too good.

While preparing for take-off, the captain makes a glorious announcement telling us that the flight time is one hour and a half. A manageable time for parents traveling with two unpredictable toddlers. We taxi for a bit and then to my dismay, come to a stop. A second announcement delivers crushing news: we are being held up and rerouted. We sit for an hour on the tarmac, then our re-route adds another hour and a half on to our flying time. By the time we got in to the air the twins had had enough.

The duration of our flight included kids being switched back and forth between mine and William’s lap (you cannot have more than one lap child in a row so William and I both had to pass babies back and forth across the aisle, and neither of us could get a break where our laps were baby-free,) shoving things in the twins’ mouths varying from pacifiers, a boob, and a multitude of snacks to keep them quiet, and many apologies to the people sitting in our general vicinity. I’m sure we didn’t contribute to their “worst flying experience” ever, but we definitely weren’t the family you wish for on your flight.

Once we arrived at got settled, things were great! My mother and father in law loved being able to spend time with their grandbabies. We shared a beach house about an hour and half away from Charleston with my sister in law and her three young kids and it was so much fun watching the twins interact with their big cousins. It was a very cool experience, as their mom, seeing how they are developing and interacting more with those they are around. We took them to the beach for the first time and both were beach bums. Little girl was definitely more adventurous and little dude needed a little more time to get comfortable on the beach but they both were sandy and sun kissed and smiling. And of course, there was another member in this club of “mom’s of multiples” set up with her family on the beach a few yards from us  she came over and said hello.  She told us about her kids (she had two older ones and her six year old twins were the babies) and she made sure to tell us that IT GETS EASIER.  I always love running into fellow twin moms who can relate to the chaos and when she said that, it brought some relief to know there are other moms out there who are still managing… and smiling!

We stayed in Charleston one more day after leaving the beach house and took the kids to the aquarium which kept them entertained for a little while and then it was time to pack up once again and head back to the airport.

The flight home, in comparison to our arrival in South Carolina, was much smoother-sailing. We took off (relatively) on time and flying time was short enough to where both kids slept almost the duration of the flight. Once arriving back at our parked car at a site off JFK I felt like superwoman. We had done it! I had such a sense of accomplishment that William and I had worked together (with only one argument!) and spent seven whole uninterrupted days with our little family. I think we really needed the break. I don’t know that I’d like to travel with the twins all of the time like that; it was a TON of work and it was exhausting and overwhelming but it was great to know that if we wanted to, we COULD do it.

We have a few more trips planned over the next couple of weeks, but those, thank goodness, are road trips. What’s the best vacation you’ve taken with your kids? Or the most cringe-worthy travel experience you’ve had?

all the single(ton) ladies

Where my single(ton) ladies at?

Lately I have been pondering the differences when you’re a mom to multiples and when you have birthed one child at a time.  I am a realist, and my realist perspective is that I don’t care if you have one kid, multiples, two kids born back to back, or a football team… this shit is tough.  But in my more recent outings with the twinkies, I have had more than one moment where I’ve thought: “this is something only twin parents would understand.”

When a baby is born, they are equipped with some sort of magnetic force field that instantly draws the attention of little old ladies who want to kiss their feet and women with baby fever whose ovaries ping with excitement of seeing a new bundle roll by in a stroller.  I am guilty of this myself; the gazing of a tiny newborn in the aisle of the supermarket, asking “how old?” and commenting on how adorable they may be, possibly throwing around a funny face or two at the kid if he/she is a little more engaged.  I’ve done it.  And I’m sorry I’ve done it. Because take it from this mama who goes out and takes the whole circus show with her… when people stop/chat/ask questions … it’s ANNOYING.

Most times, I don’t mind answering people’s questions when I am out and about.  From the very beginning, we have brought the twins out with us to restaurants, the mall, etc.  I take them out solo a lot of the time too.  I never knew two tiny humans and me would be such an attention-grabber.  I’ve gotten used to the repetitive questions thrown out at me as I’m strolling through target, getting groceries, or walking to the park.  It comes with the territory.  I’ll even accept the unsolicited advice about feeding/clothing/raising kids from strangers.  I smile and nod, while using a few expletives in my head and move on.  Here are a few things I have encountered.

“Are they twins?” No, I just happened to stumble across an extra toddler somewhere in the parking lot. Yes, they are twins.

“A boy and a girl!” YAY, you didn’t think my daughter dressed in blue was a boy! Yes, I am very blessed.

“Are they identical?” I thought we just established one has a penis, and one doesn’t.  Do you know what identical means? And where did you get your education? No, boys and girls cannot be identical.

“Do twins run in your family?” ­– They do now. Nope, we were very surprised!

“Did you do fertility treatments?” When did my reproductive health become any of this stranger’s business? Nope, just lucky I guess!

“Is it a lot of work?” Awh, no not at all. I’m just wearing yesterday’s clothes, makeup and my hair hasn’t been washed in two days because I have so much free time to do other fun stuff. Oh yeah, we are very busy.

“You must have your hands full!” – BINGO! I’m holding both kids and you’re stopping to chat! I chuckle and shrug my shoulders.

These are just a few of the most common phrases I hear on any given day, in any given situation when I am out with the twins.  While I know I am guilty of exchanging words with singleton mamas in public, I cant for the life of me remember the last time I asked if their kid was a product of in-vitro or about their family history.

Some words of advice the next time you run in to a mama who’s wrangling two toddlers and you are curious: questions are usually welcome. However, I sincerely apologize in advance if I seem distracted when you tell me your cousin’s wife’s sister on her father’s side had twins somewhere down the line. I also apologize that I will in no way be able to empathize when you tell me that you “kind of know what its like to have twins because your kids were born 12 months apart.” And please, if you are ballsy enough to ask me about the way my twins were conceived when I’m bagging groceries with one kid in the shopping cart and another in a carrier on my chest, at least help me get the food in the bags and to my car!

I welcome other moms of multiples (and singletons) to weigh in! What’s the craziest thing that’s ever happened to/been said to you when out with your children?

Mama’s Sick

Greetings from ground zero. Sickness has hit this mama hard over the last two days. I begrudgingly have accepted hubby’s offer of taking on twin duty today so I can rest up so I’ve found myself with some unexpected time to update.

I’ve missed blog-land! I’ve had all of these planned posts about various things that have occurred over the last couple of months but we have been inundated with work, running our home and keeping the tiny humans alive.

There are no “days off” when you’re a parent. A huge part of me feels overwhelmingly guilty that hubby has to take on managing the twins on his own today. Logically, I can conceptualize that he is their father, and he can do everything their mama does for them. But I’m their mama. And just as mom’s don’t get days off, mom’s rarely get relief from ‘ mommy guilt. ‘ and the mommy guilt force is strong with this mama today.

These germs are unforgiving. It started with my sister, who also lives in this chaotic place with us. Then the twins started with some runny noses (i.e.: constant faucet of baby boogers) and much of the week was spent running around wiping little noses and trying to keep things as disinfected as possible (no easy feat when each kid wants to slobber all over the other’s belongings.) So when I started with a scratchy throat I chalked it up to catching whatever has been making its way around. Progressively, I began to feel worse…and worse…and worse until there was no denying. I’m sick. I don’t do “sick” well. I don’t do “having to take care of myself” well. I am not a good patient. On top of feeling like death, that small voice in my head becomes even louder kicking in the mommy guilt. Twin B is crying and wants to climb into bed with mommy and mommy can barely lift a head off the pillow. Twin A wants to nurse and mommy wants to crawl into a dark hole and accept the imminent death that’s welcome as long as this cough stops and her head stops pounding.

Reminders that I’m human are needed and sobering. I know my children aren’t going to be damaged long term because their mama spends the day in bed and not with them. I know that my husband is going to make it the best day for them and they will be well taken care of and happy. I know that unless I take care of myself, I’ll be useless to the twins. But it sucks and I still want to complain about it.

Aside from this mess, things have been very exciting. There have been many adventures had with the twinkies and we have a lot of fun things planned that are upcoming as well. I will be sure to update more about those things in the next couple of weeks. For now, though, I’m going to indulge in some ginger ale sipping and hard candy so that this mama can get better and get back to chasing the tiny humans. Until next time, take care of yourselves, mamas! Lower the volume on that voice spreading lies and making you feel sub-par. Let go of the mommy guilt-You’re doing an amazing job.

Expectations VS. Reality


Things have been challenging in this house over the last couple of weeks. The twins have been little twin-somniacs and are not allowing much sleep for mommy and daddy. This whole mess of zombie-like states and days running on fumes (and caffeine…lots and lots of caffeine) have had me thinking a lot about expectations.

We haven’t had much trouble with the twins and sleep up until this point so I never really expected that since we had it so good (and I was so grateful) that things could change so drastically and bedtime and overnight would become, only how I could describe, as hell on Earth.

That’s the thing about expectations; they really screw with you.

So over the last couple of weeks… six… six long weeks of babies waking up all hours of the night and my trying to function as a productive human being aside from this, I came to realize I have been wrong about A LOT of things.

I was the perfect parent…

…before I had children.


There were many things I expected as I fantasized about my role as caretaker of tiny humans. I set standards in my head I was determined to maintain. Guidelines I would not stray from. Have a look at these (now laughable) assumptions naïve, non child-raising me had.

  1. My baby(ies) would not be exposed to “screen time” before a reasonable age.

Reality: I was dumb. I love television, my husband loves television, and prior to having kids there was often a TV on even if it wasn’t being watched. That was just the world we were living in. So I did some revising and came up with a new standard…

  1. My baby(ies) would only have access to television shows that are educational in nature and “age appropriate.”

Reality: If the same episodes of “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse” on repeat allows me to get a shower in the morning before work, clean the house so that I don’t feel like we live in a pigsty, or prepare a meal for the twins and the rest of us, then I bow down to you Lord Mickey the Mouse. However, there are other shows that are on pretty regularly because adults still live her and I would be lying if I didn’t disclose that it doesn’t matter what kind of tantrum these toddlers are throwing, the intro to Law and Order: SVU stops them in their tracks and quiets them instantly. Guilty as charged.

  1. I wasn’t going to try that hard to breastfeed.

Reality: The twins are 14 months old and continue to nurse multiple times a day. 17% of women continue to nurse their baby(ies) after returning to work full time. This is the biggest commitment I’ve made to anything in my life, and while it has exhausted and, at times, tormented me, I am empowered by what my body has been able to provide for these two.  Even if it has meant that I am a glorified cow.

  1. I would listen to all advice provided by my baby(ies) doctor.

Reality: Nope.  There have been things I’ve had gut feelings about and ways I’ve wanted to do things that the doctors advised against, or didn’t have a lot of insight to provide. It’s easy to feel bullied in to doing things with my kids as directed by a doctor. But after conversations had between my husband and I, we decided that we would consider all information provided to us but that we would also make our own informed decisions because these are our kids, and we have the ultimate say. As long as our children are healthy, happy, and thriving, we will make the choices that we see fit as their parents.

  1. I would not return to old, bad, habits I engaged in before parenthood. Like smoking.

Reality: Spare me the lectures on how bad smoking is for my health and livelihood. I know. I’m human. It isn’t rational, and it isn’t healthy, but this is a habit that has been difficult to give up 100%. Sometimes I feel as though I am split in to two halves. There’s who I am as a woman, and there’s who I am as a mom. And sometimes the person I am outside of being a mother needs a minute. My minutes occasionally include a cigarette.

  1. My children would be read to, daily.

Reality: I wish I could go back and hit pre-mom me in the head. Have you tried reading to an infant? Here… face a wall and read aloud a book that has bright pictures and short sentences. Go on, I’ll wait. That’s what reading to an infant is like and it’s a much better experience when the kid is a little older and can respond and react.

7. There would be no scenario that included a child sleeping in my bed.

Reality: We didn’t consider this for a long time; the twins were sleeping well. And when they were sleeping well, we were sleeping well in our sanctuary of a bed that was our own. By the time it’s 3am and you’re up with Twin A for the tenth time, and you know Twin B is going to wake up if they hear Twin A screech for the umpteenth time and you’re mentally clocking the amount of hours of sleep you can get if this kid passed out RIGHT NOW; options seem limited. Survival mode kicks in and you rationalize your kid sleeping next to you because 1) they will sleep and so will you, 2) if for whatever reason they do become restless they have easy, open access to your boobs which are magic and will instantly calm them. Bed-sharing for the win!


This is just a quick, ever-evolving, running list. I’m sure as we continue down this road as parents, more and more things that I expect to happen will turn out not quite as I had planned. I guess this is something all new parents come to realize. This epiphany has also made me more aware of mothers outside of myself. Never again will I be able to, in good conscience, judge another mother for how they parent their child (with the exception of neglect and abuse, of course.) There are so many unknowns when you’re raising kids and you’re ultimately responsible for how they turn out. There are too many variables and no handbooks. There’s a part of you that’s left constantly open and vulnerable to ridicule, judgment, and guilt and it’s exhausting. Even more exhausting then two toddlers trained by the CIA in torture via sleep deprivation. We are doing our best. We deserve to feel pride in our mothering capabilities. And we need to remember that even when things don’t turn out quite how we had expected them, often times, they turn out better.

View From the NICU

Jenny’s and Sully’s entrance into the world was almost as spontaneous as their conception. There was no labor. There was no grand anticipation. There were no family or friends impatiently waiting for their arrival in the waiting room.

What there was, was William and I trying to navigate what was to happen next. We had such very little time to process this moment; one minute we were thinking about the twins’ arrival, the next minute they were here. The hours after delivery and my time in recovery are a blur. I remember only bits and pieces; I remember William going to the NICU, our babies’ new safe haven outside of their comfy womb, and spending a lot of time with them while I was in recovery. I remember thinking about all of the bad things that could happen, but somehow managing to keep it together. I remember seeing them for the first time, in separate rooms, and wanting to be overcome with emotion, but mostly feeling nauseous from the pain meds and afraid that I was going to puke all over my newly birthed daughter.

Our NICU stay was just short of one month. In that time, the twins got the testing, medicine, and care they needed in order to thrive. Jenny persevered and was moved from intensive care, to the lower level of care “special care” side of the nicu within days. Sully had a few more challenges than Jenny did to start and needed some respiratory support before finally being reunited with his sister in special care. In the grand scheme of things we were the lucky ones, and I know and value and am grateful for this. However, I can sum up the experience with one sentiment: it was shitty.

No mother prepares to leave the hospital after delivering a child, with no baby(ies) in her arms. We didn’t pack two tiny babies in to car seats and leave with balloons and smiles, I didn’t sit in the backseat staring at them and yelling at my husband to slow down all the way home, we didn’t show them off to family and friends. We waited four weeks to do those things; for four weeks, I came and left the hospital, leaving my newborns to be cared for by someone other than their mother.

I felt very resentful over this reality during the twin’s time in the hospital, and over the last year. It’s been difficult, as their mom and as their home for 31 weeks, not to somehow blame my body or myself for their premature birth. “Mommy guilt” didn’t take long to kick in. I also struggle with the fact that don’t think this outcome was very fair; nothing about this pregnancy went as planned or expected. Couldn’t I have at least had the delivery I had hoped for? Couldn’t that, if nothing else, somehow resembled what we had planned? I wanted to have my baby shower (which was canceled,) I wanted to revel in the birth of our babies and have a “I am woman hear me roar” moment after delivery, I wanted to spend this time with my husband and reflect on our pregnancy and the imminent changes about to occur in our lives and in our relationship, and I know all of this sounds petty. I had two beautiful babies regardless of how they came in to the world, but it’s important I’m honest. And the truth was: it was really shitty.

The whole experience taught me many positive things, though. For starters, it taught me that I am a lot stronger than I thought I was prior to this. The physical recovery of a c-section, the emotional toll of two fragile babies in the hospital, the no sleep from worry (and pumping) all hours of the night, pulling twelve hour days in the NICU; all amazing feats I’m proud of. The NICU gave me lessons in patience and acceptance of the things I can’t control; something this crazy anxiety-ridden new first time mom really needed. The NICU taught me that there are people, and a lot more than I realized, that care about me. Family, friends, co workers, they all rallied to help out any way they could; which allowed me to realize I was deserving of the support and help. It taught me to love each day, each moment, and each thing no matter how insignificant with my babies. And it taught me to appreciate my husband in ways I didn’t know I needed to. The most important lesson I learned was this: this was only a drop in the bucket. There was a life we were building outside of that hospital and that would be what the twins would remember; not the month that we, or they, weren’t together…because they did come home…and we couldn’t have been happier… and just as I HAD expected, things got crazy, fast.

“Oh…We’re Going To Be Parents Today.”

I’ve begun to believe that a multiples pregnancy has left me somewhat shell shocked. For starters, it’s taken me one year and eight months to finally open up about it. It’s clear how the story ends; I mean, the twinadoes are 13 months old now!

I previously referenced a new language I was forced to learn while I was pregnant with the twins.  From that first ultrasound on, I was no longer a woman experiencing a typical pregnancy. Now, this was a “multiples” pregnancy. All of a sudden I had gone from contemplating being a mom, to totally nailing this pregnancy thing, to all of a sudden being a mom of multiples. I also came to learn of the word “singleton,” in other words, the kind of pregnancy I wasn’t having; the one where the mom-to-be is only cooking one bun in the oven.

I’d be lying if I said idea of housing two kids over the next nine months didn’t scare me.  Of course I was f***ing scared. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to do this with one baby and now there was a second one along for the ride. I wondered how this was possible; wasn’t it supposed to be hard getting pregnant?  I’ve been known to be an overachiever but this was much more of an undertaking than I had imagined.

For the most part, my pregnancy was pretty unremarkable. I had the usual complaints one is allowed when playing incubator to a growing human(s). William and I did the typical things parents-to-be do when eagerly awaiting the arrival of their baby(ies.) We found a place to live (our tiny, two bedroom second floor apartment was no longer an option,) we researched items for a baby registry, we named our babies, hell we even took a twin prep class! (Highly, highly recommended by the way- let me know if you want further details about this.) As things moved along, I was thrilled to get to feel my babies tap dancing in my belly, exhausted as sleeping was beginning to be non existent, and sick with heartburn.     For almost the whole time, my son sat contently, in prime birthing position, his head crushing my pelvis while my daughter sat breeched with her head in my rib cage. Little jerks.

I was diligent in my prenatal care, attending all of my prenatal appointments like a good mommy, but my OB sent me to labor and delivery QUITE OFTEN “just in case.” On one occasion she sent me because I was a little “crampy,” (a completely normal pregnancy symptom) and they didn’t have the necessary equipment to monitor me and the babies. Another time after a freak thing at work which included a carbon monoxide scare, it was suggested I go and get checked out just to be safe. While in labor and delivery, Baby A, was screwing around and they kept me overnight. So, when I went to a routine appointment at 31 weeks pregnant and my doctor suggested again that I go to L&D I was really pissed.

Here’s another vocabulary word I learned: shortening cervix. Apparently this is something common with multiples pregnancies. The thin membrane protecting my babies from basically dropping out of me was shortened from the pressure of exactly that; carrying two babies. This was brought to my attention early into my pregnancy and watched closely. At this particular appointment my blood pressure was a little high and that, coupled with my shortening cervix, was enough to be told to get my butt to the hospital. This time I was told that I’d most likely get steroid shots to mature the babies’ lungs in the event that I did go into labor before the marked day.

I reluctantly went to labor and delivery, bitching the whole drive there and commenting on the phone to my dad that it couldn’t be anything too serious as they were having me drive myself to the hospital. I sat in the valet line (I was far too big already, and lazy, to walk from the parking lot to the entrance) and I furiously shoved everything I had brought with me to work that day for lunch because these people were notorious for telling me I couldn’t eat while I was there. I was going to get one over on them this time.  Plus, the last thing these guys wanted was an angry, pregnant, and HUNGRY Nicole on their hands.

I got checked in, my blood pressure was normal. I rolled my eyes; pissed again. They got me set up for the first steroid shot. I knew they were going to admit me because the steroids are given in a two shot series; the second being administered exactly 24 hours after the first. They also hooked me up to magnesium because, apparently, I was having slight contractions which I didn’t even know. I met the doctor on call, who proclaimed that I would never be seeing him again because “we weren’t having babies today.” I begged to be released by Friday, two days later, since my baby shower was scheduled for that weekend. William met me, got me settled in a room and sat with my while I got ready for a long, uncomfortable night in the hospital.

I felt really messed up from the magnesium and it was giving me an awful headache. I continued to have contractions but was not in, or anywhere near, labor. Around midnight I was put on oxygen and was told one baby wasn’t being very cooperative and they were going to have me lay in a different position to get a better reading on baby. I tried figuring out how they keep track of two babies heart beats when I could feel these kids moving around like my uterus was their own private bounce house. Around one in the morning, a doctor came to talk to us. She explained that something was happening to one baby, their heart rate was rapidly decel-ing and the possibility of a c section was being discussed.

Panic ensued. “O….K.”

I thought that the doctor was suggesting that other options of how to keep me pregnant were going to be explored before surgery. But before I could ask what they were, a nurse was throwing scrubs at my husband and telling him to get changed. We locked eyes and he said “this is happening, we’re going to be parents today.”

The next moments moved SO fast but in my head I still see them in slow motion. Nurses began to rip my clothes off of me, and they shot something into my IV. I made the mistake of asking what they gave me and they said it was something to prevent me from throwing up with the anesthesia.

I don’t do vomit, remember?
I started hyperventilating.

The same doctor, the one I wasn’t ever supposed to see again tonight, came with paperwork I needed to sign, consenting for the c-section. I tried to ask one hundred questions. “Are they worried about the health of the babies? They’re so early.”The doctor responds, “of course.” He went on to explain the neonatal intensive care team would be standing by.

It’s explained to me that I may, or may not, hear my babies cry. All of a sudden my idea of what the delivery I had planned for these twinkies goes out the window. The doctor then presses me to sign the consent because “he doesn’t have time to explain the ins and outs to me, he needs to get my babies out.”
They separated William and I while I got the anesthesia. I try to figure out how not to lose my shit that a man is going to shove a needle in my back and I can’t stop shaking. I was numb, exposed, laying on an operating table and finally William was allowed in the room and was by my side again. There’s tugging and pulling and pressure and finally the faintest cry, the sound a newborn kitten would make. One little yelp at 2:02am followed by another at 2:03. The babies are were taken out of the room immediately. I asked if they were okay, and no one answered because they’re with the neonatal team and the only thing the people care about in the room with me is how I’m doing. I started to feel some pain and they give me the good stuff; the rest is very fuzzy but I know I became awfully chatty. That was it. In a matter of 60 minutes, I went straight from a multiples pregnancy, to multiples.

Baby A – Sullivan James
Baby B – Jennifer Estelle

And there’s plenty more to come about them later.