Plot Twist

I’ve been wondering how to start this post for the last couple of weeks–I stay up late at night composing sentences in my head and I never seem to come up with anything that sounds quite right.

So I’m just going to say it.

I’m pregnant.

Yes, again.

I’m sure y’all are  wondering, and yes, this was definitely a surprise. As soon as I got pregnant with the twins I KNEW I wanted four children. I had never imagined an odd number of kids and for whatever reason I felt like Charlie would always be the odd man out if we stopped after the twins. I was not, however, planning on having the fourth baby five seconds after I had babies two and three!

I walked around in a daze for a couple of days after I found out. I mean, how on Earth was I going to handle three babies? That’s like triplets or something!! (For the record, I know that having children close in age isn’t the same as having multiples–my logical brain did not at all care at this point).

But then the crazies passed and I started thinking of positives–this kid will probably be such good friends with the twins–I bet they’ll be inseparable before I know it. More siblings for Charlie means more helping hands after Hubby and I are gone. Before, it would have been a race to get pregnant before I entered the high-risk category. Now, I’m totally safe.

With all the people out there killing themselves to have babies, I can’t see this as a bad thing–even if the timing is a little different than I anticipated.

It’s still early–just ten weeks–but my doctor feels good about the pregnancy, so I figured I’d share. Also, I suck at keeping secrets. I also feel pretty certain that if things were to go wrong, I’d want to talk about that here too, so why not share the news? So far, things have been fine–no nausea, I’m feeling that first trimester fatigue, but luckily the holidays mean more helping hands. I’m hoping this will be an easy pregnancy.

Doctor puts my due date at June 23rd. If I deliver at 39 weeks, this baby will share a birthday with the twins.

It’s crazy around here, but a good crazy.

 

Drama Loves Me

Growing up I was definitely a Drama Queen. I have a fiery temper and that plus adolescent hormones made for a LOT of over-the-top scenes. That’s just how I was.

After Charlie was born, I felt like I was done for life. I would occasionally run into some mommy-drama from someone and I literally did not have the energy to engage in it. Your child is four months old and just got into Stanford? Great. Fantastic. I’m busy keeping mine alive. I guess I just got worn out on drama.

Sadly, the rest of my life did not get the memo. This last pregnancy I really felt like the drama fairy was following me around or something–dusting me with a little dramaz just to keep it real.

I figured I was done after twins, Parvo, early delivery, and two kids in the NICU. I should be done, really.

But apparently I’m not. You see, it appear to have a hernia. That outie belly button I picked up during pregnancy is probably more of a hernia than a cute pregnancy side effect.

Sooo. . . next week I’ll have an ultrasound to confirm and a meeting with the surgeon to schedule repair surgery. Good times. Good times, indeed. Feel free to comment on how ridiculous my life is, because really, this is too much.

The Big Bad Baby Post

Well, if you’ve been kept on with me on Twitter or Facebook, then you know that the boys have arrived. If you need even more meaty details, this is the post for you! Please excuse me if this post is nothing, but goofiness–I’m still taking pain killers.

So what happened?

I was scheduled to be on bed rest from early Sunday morning (2-ish) until my doctor’s appointment on Wednesday afternoon. We did some shuffling, got family members lined up to keep an eye on Charlie, and I was a very good pregnant lady, staying in bed, mostly flat, and getting up to go to the bathroom. By Tuesday afternoon, I had effectively kicked the contraction train and thought that I’d be placed on modified movement after my appointment.

Well, at around 3:45 Wednesday morning, my water broke. Hubby and I sat around for a while trying to figure out if that’s actually what happened and finally just took ourselves over to Labor and Delivery for a test.

baby looking at camera

Louis, one day old

Sure enough, my water had broken, so they shot me up with steroids to strengthen the boys’ lungs, and put me on constant monitoring and bed rest. The boys continued to well, with steady heart rates, and we really thought that we would make it to Friday, which would have been 34 weeks gestation.

Again, the boys had other plans and I went into full blown labor around early Thursday morning. My doctor had warned me for ages that he wouldn’t wait if there was an issue with the babies, and both boys were delivered before two in the morning. Both boys cried when delivered. Their weights were almost exactly what had been estimated two weeks ago, which I find interesting–had they stopped growing? Or were the measurements just perfectly off? August weighed in a 3 lbs. 10 oz. and Louis was 5 lbs. 8 oz. Not too shabby for boys born 7 weeks early.

Louis was in a bit of distress, so they hustled him off to be ventilated and tiny August held his own with no problems.

So those are the facts. Now here’s my completely unsubstantiated theory:

When the boys were born, Louis was in some distress and had a low iron count–despite being the larger of the two babies. Louis is the same baby that was suspected of having Fifth’s Disease. Despite how good he had been doing, Friday (today) would have officially marked the end of his “high risk” period.

I think he was still sick. He was doing his best, but at some point his little body just couldn’t take any more.

Baby wrapped in blanket

August, one day old

No doctor would ever back me up on that theory, but he’s gotten better practically by the minute since he’s been born. By ten o’clock the day he was born, they were able to take him off the ventilator. Today they were able to start letting him have actually food (through a tube, but still). August is my spunky boy–they told me I might as well go ahead and get roller skates because he’s going to be running me ragged before I know it.

We are very happy. This birth, while still quite dramatic, is so much easier than Charlie’s. I wish the babies could have stayed put for a bit longer, but for us, it’s clear that Louis needed things that my body could no longer give him. We will hope for the best.

Again, please feel free to ask me any question I didn’t answer, or anything that wasn’t clear–given birth, lost some blood, and taken a bunch of pain killers–it’s entirely possible I just typed this entire post in French and didn’t realize it.

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