What you forget

It’s amazing to me that I’ve forgotten what my dad’s voice sounded like.  I heard that voice almost every single day for almost 33 years and now, it’s just gone.  I remember things he used to say…

“Watch that road.”

“I love ya, Kid.”

“Don’t forget your dad.”

“Now, Nettie…” (his nickname for me).

But how he sounded saying them….it’s gone.

Until today.

Today my mom got a new cell phone.  But the voicemail my dad left her the day he died was saved on the Verizon mail system and she would lose it if she got anything other than a plain phone.  So I got her passcode, logged in and recorded my dad’s last voicemail for her.

And there was his voice.  Plain as day yet I didn’t remember him sounding like that.  I don’t know what I remembered, but it wasn’t that.

The best part was he sounded happy.

My dad was happy on the day he died.

Memories

Some days the memories of my dad are so hard for me to find.  When I think about him I remember the phone call – I even remember my husband walking from the kitchen to the garage (I know now it was so I wouldn’t see his reaction).  I remember walking in the room in the hospital to tell him bye and I remember my cousin and my uncle standing in the hallway, my cousin catching me when I fell.

Then I remember being at mom’s house.  People in and out all night.  My friend Jess running in at midnight and grabbing me sobbing.  Jess was there for everything.

I remember my MIL and SIL showing up sometime after that.

I remember making funeral arrangements and picking out dad’s casket.  And mom being upset when my sister and I told her where we thought his body should rest.  Of course she’d be upset – she wanted him with her.

I remember the wake.  Trying to be strong.  I remember the cousin who caught me in the hospital going through the line and hugging my mom and me at least 15 times.  I remember my best friend and her mom coming in.  I remember my college roommate coming through with her dad.  I remember a friend from high school who lost her dad just a few months before coming in and crying with me.  Telling me she wished she could take that pain away from me.

I remember standing there so long I didn’t think I could move.  I remember my cousin Steph leading me to a seat and holding my hand.  I also remember people thinking Steph was me (and commenting that they didn’t remember my boobs being that big, but that’s another story).

Then I remember the funeral.  Standing up and talking about my daddy.  Looking at all the men who worked for him who were all heartbroken over my daddy.  I remember getting to the end of my speech, looking up and realizing everyone who works at my office was sitting there in a row, crying during my words.  Words I somehow got through without crying (because I knew dad would be upset with me if I cried in front of ALL those people).

I remember almost collapsing as I walked past daddy’s casket.  My husband practically carrying me out.

I remember not wanting to leave the memory gardens where my dad’s body now lays.  Sitting next to his mausoleum, thinking if I sat there long enough he’d wake up.

I can’t remember anything else.  I can’t remember the fun dad and I had.  I keep thinking I’ll get past the grief and remember his voice telling me something only my dad would say, something to make me laugh.  Something just to see if I will still believe anything he says. I did.  Anything he said I believed.

Some days I can’t remember what he looked like.  I can’t breathe until I find a picture and remember.

Some days are harder than others.

Some days I just don’t feel so lucky

It’s been awhile.  My last post was on May 4th.  I was so happy that day.  My girls were almost 7 months old.  I was making first birthday plans.  I was so proud of everything they had accomplished since they were born.

Then, 8 days later, on the day before my 33rd birthday my world came crashing down.  My husband got a phone call.  He hung up and told me that something happened to my dad and I needed to get to the hospital.  ”Everything is ok,” he told me.  ”But you need to get there.”  I knew.  I knew what happened but as a way of protecting myself I let my mind focus on something else.  I told myself “He broke his leg…”  And why did I need to go for a broke leg?  Because my dad hates the hospital.

Then mom called.  Crying.  Screaming.  I told her we were on our way.  We loaded the twins up and took off.  I kept talking about his broken leg.  But it wasn’t a broken leg.

On May 12, 2012, my dad’s heart broke.  It just stopped.  And it couldn’t be started again.

On May 12, 2012, my heart broke too.  But mine didn’t stop.

Two and a half months later and my heart is still just as broken as it was.  And if I didn’t have my two precious baby girls, I’m not sure that my heart would keep beating.  They are the ones that make me keep moving forward.  Yet, they are the ones that my heart is even more broken for than anything.

My husband lost his father three and a half years ago.  That was the worst day of my life, up until May 12, 2012.  Now, not only did I lose my daddy, but my baby girls lost the only grandfather they had left.

And he was the best grandfather.

I have one picture of my dad holding the twins.  And two of him holding Charlee.  That’s it.  It’s not that he wasn’t around them.  It’s that we didn’t think to take a picture of him with them.  Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter….they all came and went and we never once pointed the camera in dad’s direction while he was holding the girls.

You find out things after someone dies.  Like how my dad showed off a picture of his grandtwins to everyone who came in his office.  Like how he told people he worked with all about the twins and how proud he was of them and of me.  Like how he decided he couldn’t quit working just yet – because he wanted to make sure he could pay for his grandkids (all 5 of them) to go to college.

My dad was 65.  I had my dad for 32 years and 365 days.  If it hadn’t been for this year being a leap year, my dad would have died on my 33rd birthday.  And if it hadn’t been for the fact that that Sunday was my birthday and first mother’s day, my parents would have likely both been on a motorcycle in Myrtle Beach when dad’s heart broke.

I guess things do happen for a reason.  I just wish I knew why my daddy had to go.

Almost 7 months!

My little ladies will be 7 months old in 10 days.  I can’t believe it.

I’m already planning their 1st birthday party!  How is that even possible?  We’ve chosen the theme “Thing 1 and Thing 2″ for the party because, quite frankly, they look so cute in their Thing 1 and Thing 2 onesies!

Things the girls can do:

Roll…everywhere.  Once they got the rolling part down, they’ve started making their way from one end of the living room to the other. It’s almost comical to see them look up and realize “I’m not where I was!”

Smile at everything.  They love their daddy and their mommy and they smile at us all the time.

Eat!  They are now eating a vegetable and a fruit for dinner every night (along with oatmeal bottles first thing in the morning).  Gabi loves food.  She gets mad when she has to share with Charlee.

Talk.  It’s more babbling than talking but Charlee has said Daddy and Dada a lot while looking at her daddy.  I’m still saying she’s not sure what she’s saying though since she says it when he’s not home too.  ;)

Sit up….sort of.  They can do it, for about 30 seconds at a time, and then they tip over.  But for babies that shouldn’t even be 6 months yet, I think they’re doing great!

This weekend, they’ll go swimming for the first time.

See?  I TOLD you they’re cute in their onesies:

Twin Parents Love Twins

After Easter Dinner, I needed to grab formula for the week.  I always go to Walmart, buy out the Similac Sensitive and get a few things.  And almost every single time the cashier will make a comment about the insane amount of formula I buy.

The twins have to have the premix formula which comes in 1 quart jugs.  15 will usually get us through a week but I try to buy 20, just in case (so we can have some extra in the event I can’t get to Walmart over the weekend and have to go an extra day or two – no stores in town sell the type of formula we have to have).

As I was going through the checkout, the cashier who was probably in her twenties said “And this is why I never want to have kids.  All this stuff is so expensive!  You’ll go broke buying food and diapers.  How long will this formula last you?  Like a month?”

I smiled and said “No, more like  a week, but I have twins.”

Now, usually when I drop the t-word, people say something kind about how sweet twins are and how they always wanted twins OR they go the opposite route and tell me how their cousin’s best friend’s daughter’s best friend’s uncle is a twin.  This girl apparently hadn’t figured out how to NOT be offensive.  Her response:

“Oh my GOD!  That’s absolutely AWFUL!  It’s like cruel and unusual punishment!  Seriously, if I found out I was pregnant I would be mad enough but if they said I was pregnant with twins I’d be like ‘Get them out now!  I want an abortion!’”

I was obviously shocked at her strong reaction to my children and all I could get out was “What?”

She then continued to say “Plus, you know, you NEVER get your body back after having one baby.  With twins you are NEVER going to look good again!”

To say THAT was offensive is an understatement.  For the record, I do have my body back.  I have a little extra skin around my midsection, but not much, and I currently weigh 5 to 10 pounds LESS than I weighed before I got pregnant, but I wasn’t going to go into that with her.  So I paid and started to push my cart, full of formula and diapers, away when I decided I couldn’t let her get the last word.  So I turned and said to her: “Please, don’t have sex again.  I don’t want you to procreate any more than you want to.”

The thing about twin parents is…they love twins.  I mean, I know when I found out I was having twins, I was in shock but after getting past the shock, accepting that my life was changing forever and that I may never look the same again, I fell in LOVE with the idea of having twins.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I know that some people can’t imagine having twins, some people can’t imagine having ONE baby.  But there’s no reason in the world to tell a twin mom the things this girl said to me.  I almost reported her to her manager but decided against it because I am certain that she needs the job and she just doesn’t know any better.

I just didn’t know

There are a lot of things about twins and babies in general that I just didn’t know.  It’s strange that every day I feel like my girls teach me something new.

At just over 5 months, they actually know what it’s like to “miss” someone.  Their dad had to go away for work and Gabi has been practically inconsolable at night because she wants him home.  It’s so so sad to see.  Last night she and I cried together for almost an hour because I couldn’t help her and she just didn’t understand it was a temporary thing.

I always knew babies did things on their own time, but my girls have taught me that a schedule means nothing.  Babies should roll between 3 and 4 months.  Well, one of my babies rolled once in that time frame.  Then decided it wasn’t for her.  The other then started rolling at almost 5 months.  And the one who had rolled before?  Still not for her.  It’s just not fun.

Swings are entertaining – when they’re younger than they are now.  I can get MAYBE 5 minutes out of Gabi if I put her in a swing, but Charlee?  No way.  It’s boring.  I’m probably going to move one of the swings to storage this week to help declutter the living room.  Oh, and the same goes for the bouncy chairs.  They WERE fun, for like a minute.

A smile will melt your heart, especially when you know they are smiling for you.  My girls don’t give smiles freely – you have to earn it.  OR be mommy or daddy.  Charlee has actually jumped out of someone’s arms to get to me.  It was the sweetest thing ever.

When we go out with daddy in tow, people aren’t nearly as rude.  We went to the mall and the only things said were “Look at those cute babies!”  No comments about “better you than me” or “Who’s babies are those?” or any of the silly “Are they twins?” questions.  Either they have a mean looking daddy or people think that only moms will answer their stupid questions (probably true – my husband would have likely walked the other direction if anyone had said anything truly stupid to us).

My girls are preemies.  And they aren’t going to be where they should be on any growth chart and most likely they will never do things that other babies do at the same time as the other babies.  But they are perfect.  And beautiful.

The name is NOT Charlotte

I know that sometimes people just want to be a part of the conversation, but sometimes their input is so incredibly…silly…that it’d be best if they just didn’t say a word.

My sister and I had the girls at the Chiropractor a few weeks ago when a lady asked me “OH, are they twins?”

Again, I want to say that I had one and found the other but decided against it and said yes.  She then said “Oh, a boy and a girl!”

The worst part of that comment is that the girls were wearing pink and purple pants with ruffles on their butts.  Why, yes, I TOTALLY dress my boy in pink ruffly butt pants.

“No, they’re both girls.  Identical.” I replied.

She then said “But, I heard you calling one of them Charlee.”

My response was “That’s her nickname.  Her name is Charlize.”

And the response?  ”My daughter is named Charlotte too!”

*crickets*

Where did we leave the baby???

I know that twins aren’t a super rare occurrence, but I also know that many people have never seen twins in person, so when a double snap and go stroller, which most people have never seen, comes down the mall, EVERYONE has to look.

I took the twins to the mall.  They had a great time.  My mom and sister went as back up, along with my 6 year old niece who is pretty sure she could raise the twins as well as I can (which may be true, she was very good at getting us bottles and giving us blankets and pacifiers when needed).  I will start by saying the DSNG stroller is large.  I mean, it fits two car seats.  I refer to it as my “Tractor trailer” because it’s basically as long as one when trying to maneuver through crowds.  And, of course, the day we went to the mall it was CROWDED.  I probably should have checked the website so I would have known it was Bridal Expo day.  Oops.

People love to give opinions about twins.  There’s the lady who works at JCPenney who said “I wouldn’t DARE bring twins out!  What are you thinking?” to the grandma with her own granddaughter who oohed and ahhed and then told me the girls were a little small for their age.  BUT the most annoying thing was the people who didn’t speak to me.  But who would say VERY loudly “OMG LOOK!  She has TWINS!” and point and stare.

FYI: We are not a side show at the circus.

Then there were the people who said nothing at all but who would see us coming towards them and turn to look inside the car seats to “make sure” there were twins there.  Because, as you know, many people will invest in a double stroller AND two car seats so their dolls can be more comfortable.  *eye roll*

One of my favorite parts of the trip, however, was the older gentleman who came up behind my sister and I (successfully scaring the crap out of both of us) to say “Are you missing one?”  My mom had the other baby and was walking right in front of us, with Gabi staring over her shoulder at me.  I pointed her out but later told my sister “The next time someone says that I’m going to go ‘SHIT!  WHERE did we leave the baby???’”

For your viewing pleasure: Charlee, excited about shopping.

The Birth Story

Today my twins turn 4 months old. It’s a major milestone for any baby but even more so for a preemie. Today my girls should be turning two and a half months old. Their birth is something I barely remember but, at the same time, is something I will never forget

I have a much longer version of this story but I don’t want to scare any potential moms with all the details so I’ll give you a Campbell’s soup version (condensed).

My pregnancy wasn’t bad. In fact, most of it was enjoyable and easy. I found out I was having twins when I was 7 weeks and 6 days along. Early. But that was good. I was able to begin appointments with a specialist early because identical twins require more monitoring than a singleton and even more monitoring than fraternal twins.

I took care of myself. I ate tons of veggies and lean meats. I drank, literally, 30 glasses of water a day. I didn’t eat any sweets and I gave up caffeine. Everything my doctor said to do, I did. And everything he told me not to do, I didn’t. When I was told to stop exercising, I quit. When I was told to eat more calories, I did. I was going to do everything within my power to make it to October 26, which was my goal date set by my ob and me. 36 weeks. It was all we thought I could hope for because I was small to begin with and short waisted. My body would only be able to stretch so much.

A little over a week before their birth, I told my husband something was wrong. I didn’t know what was wrong but something. I had a doctors appointment that day and all my tests came back fine. Everything was normal. My doctor told me that day he would be out of town the following Tuesday and Wednesday.

The following Tuesday was when it all went south. I started swelling. Actually that’s not completely true. I had been swelling in my legs. This time my entire body was swelling. My mom took me to the hospital where they began monitoring. My blood pressure was high. Not quite dangerously high, but high. The doctor on call ran some tests and sent me home on strict bed rest. I was to return to the hospital two days later for an NST.

On Thursday my blood pressure was even higher. The nurse called my ob and he came to the hospital immediately, leaving patients waiting at his office. I was admitted for observation.

The next morning I thought I was going home. My blood pressure was normal! But then my blood work came back and the next thing I knew, I was getting an epidural and preparing to be induced. To say I was scared would be an understatement. I didn’t want to know everything though. I’m glad I didn’t because I would’ve been more scared.

The simple version is in addition to developing preeclampsia and toxemia, I had also developed HELLP syndrome. It happened so quickly that had it not been for that last blood draw at 6 am, I would have been released.

I was hooked up to multiple IVs. Saline, magnesium, an antibiotic, pitocin, and some others I’m not even sure of. Blood was put on hold for me because a transfusion was likely imminent. The epidural was in and giving me a small dose. And then I slept. In my sleep, I would randomly wake up and request someone give me a boost of the epidural. I had a lot of visitors. I know my mom, dad and mother in law were with my husband and I almost all day. My sister left her last day at her work at noon to join us.

At 7 pm I knew I had to push. Had to. There was no waiting so they took me to the surgical delivery room, just in case. One hour later, at 8:01, my Gabrielle was born. 17 minutes later, Charlize came into the world. At 34 weeks and 2 days my babies were less than 4 pounds each. But they were crying!

I was preparing my husband to follow the girls to a NICU. I told him to get his keys and be ready. But then the pediatrician came into our room and told me “they’re breathing on their own. I have them on O2 but I don’t think they’ll need it for long. Unless something dramatically changes, they can stay here.” relief. That’s the only word to describe what I felt.

I didn’t see the girls until noon the next day. I wasn’t allowed to move because I wasn’t stable. I found out later when I started telling everyone it was time, it was because the placenta had begun to detach. I also found out later that after giving birth, my potassium levels bottomed out to dangerously low levels. There was no reason or indication either of these things were going to happen.

All of this happened 12 days before my goal date. 12 days. My girls spent 2 weeks in the nursery, but that is another post.  I’m not sharing any pictures of the twins right after birth or while they were in the hospital because they are hard to look at because they were so small.  But you’ll get a 4 month picture tonight.

Twins are hard

I like to think that I’m a well educated and intelligent woman. I knew going into my pregnancy that a baby would be hard. When I found out I was having twins, I also realized that was going to be difficult. But some days I think I didn’t realize exactly how difficult.

I LOVE my daughters. I would not give them up, either of them, for anything in the world. They are beautiful and sweet and everything I ever wanted. But, at the same time, there are two of them. If you have one baby and that baby is moderately fussy (as most babies are), you and your husband can take turns caring for the baby and calming the baby. Twins are different. Two moderately fussy twins is pretty much like having the world’s loudest screaming baby in your house. Some nights I think my neighbors have to be able to hear the twins screaming and think that we’re beating them.

When one twin starts to cry, especially at night, the other one also starts. Usually I take one and my husband takes the other. Sometimes one becomes inconsolable and simply does not want the parent that has her. So we have to switch. And sometimes, when we switch, the other baby becomes inconsolable because SHE wanted THAT parent too!

They also will feed off of one another. One cries so the other cries. One screams so the other tries to scream louder. I can’t even imagine how parents of triplets deal with fussy babies. Each month I hope this is the month that they will outgrow the fussy nights but we’re still waiting.

Not every night is bad though. And some nights are worse than others. But I think sometimes when people hear they are having twins they think of how cute it will be to dress them alike and how fun it will be to have two babies when the truth is it’s hard to have twins. Even if they sleep through the night, like my girls do, it’s hard to take care of two babies all the time. And taking care of them alone is nearly impossible.

But, like I said, I wouldn’t trade my girls for anything. They’re worth all the screaming and fussing and breakdowns they have because they are mine.