A Love Note?

Blake crawls all over the place now, and his hands are on anything he can reach.  Every day he spends some time in our bedroom, as Raleigh and I are getting ready in the morning, putting away clothes, or preparing for bedtime at night.  He checks out our closet, inspects any baskets or bags on the floor, stands at the middle drawer in our master bathroom (and pulls out what bottles/containers he can reach), etc.  He literally is EVERYWHERE.

One of his regular stops is the little bookshelf in the corner of the bedroom, next to (generally) my side of the bed.  For weeks he's pulled out several books (which I lovingly put back into place once he's done), thumbed through them, and left them on the floor.

But lately . . . it's only been one book he's pulled out and left.  And once he pulls it, he seems to be satisfied and moves on his trek across the rest of our space.  He doesn't flip through the pages or attempt to rip off the cover.  He just pulls it out and moves on.

I had noticed I'd been putting the same book back for over a week now, but really didn't put much thought into it.  That is, until Raleigh said something last night as we were preparing for bed, and he had picked up the book from the floor.

"Have you noticed that Blake's only been pulling this book lately, In the Arms of Angels?"

"Yeah," I said, stopping to think about it.  "That was the book I took with me to South Dakota and read to Grandma just a few weeks before she flew away."  (The book is a collection of real-life stories of folks who believe they've encountered angels here on Earth.  Click here to read about the amazing story about Grandma when she flew away--a miracle in its own right!)

"I know," he said.  "I just wonder if she or God is trying to tell us something."

---

So this morning as Blake is wandering around the room and I'm doing my thing getting dressed and ready for the day, my eye catches as he wanders to the bookshelf and without thinking, pulls the book from the shelf, places it on the floor behind him, and then quickly crawls away.

I sit down on the floor, slide him next to me, and ask him why he keeps choosing to check out this special book.

"Is there a particular section you want me to read?" I ask.  He stares at me with big eyes, pacifier in his mouth, turns and travels on.  "Ok," I thought, "maybe not."

I went ahead and opened the book somewhere in the middle, and began reading.  Here are the first words that I see/read: 

There is an old saying that before a baby is born,

God kisses its soul.

And as its guardian angel bears it earthward to its little body,

he sings.

Is there, in my subconscious self,

still a dim memory of that kiss,

a faint echo of that song?

That's it.  I could read no more.  My eyes were brimming with tears.

Especially once I became pregnant with Blake (which was only a  few weeks after she left us), I've felt that Grandma Ruth was definitely watching over us (and him specifically) as one of his guardian angels.  And I felt her presence more than I can tell you when we watched over his little body as he lay on the cooling bed in the NICU, unsure of what the future held for our family.  And now, as I prepare to welcome two more (and still unsure of many things), I often talk to her, certain that she is watching over her next two great-grandsons as well.

I don't know exactly what she may be attempting to tell me, other than "Yes, we are here . . ." But even that--as we enter these last couple weeks and face all sorts of fears and uncertainty, as we work to hold onto faith and hope that all will be well--is a great message of great love.  We are not alone in this journey, and of THAT I am most certain.

The hardest part . . .

What can I say? We are BLOWN AWAY.

When we found out we were expecting twins, we of course immediately started thinking of all that we would need in order to adequately prepare ourselves and our home for the addition of two more Elstuns. And as I've mentioned before, we were scared. Caring for one child is challenging enough, but two more? And so soon? Could we really do it? With regards to finances specifically, would we really be ok?

In so many ways, it felt like God was giving us more than we would be able to handle.

So when we announced we were expecting twins, we were both humbled and surprised at the outpouring of support we have received . . . and without us even asking!

Diaper drives and a double stroller fund. Hand-me-down clothes and crib sheets. Cash. Gift cards. Promises of meals post-babies (this is Raleigh's favorite!). New clothes and toys. Coupons. Beautiful cards of well wishes and offers to come over and help with laundry, cooking, cleaning, babysitting . . . whatever we need. (Even a secret "help-keep-Kim-off-her-feet-and-keep-these-boys-cooking" campaign orchestrated by my loving husband.) Even very thoughtful gifts to include Blake, in celebration of him becoming an older brother.

We've received gifts from family, from friends, from friends of friends, from coworkers, from Blake's current day care provider, from complete strangers even (truly--people we've never even heard of!).

All that being said, why is receiving gifts/support sometimes so difficult?

• My cousin offered to host a "shower by mail" for out of town family and friends. I said she didn't have to, yet she did anyways.
• Some of my coworkers have insisted on throwing me a shower for the boys, however I adamantly refused. Finally talking them down to a "sprinkle" to be held during an already-scheduled community lunch hour, they've agreed (but have lovingly told me to "get over" their refusal of my request for a "downplayed" celebration).
• I've caught myself answering folks' offers for help or gifts with "Oh, you don't have to do that!" or "That's so sweet of you, but we'll be ok . . ." as if my polite rejection of their kind offer will somehow spare them a burden of doing something they want to . . . (silly, huh?).

We've said "thank you" and are genuinely grateful for all that folks are doing for us (trust me, it does relieve some of the feelings of overwhelm we've quickly become accustomed to), yet Raleigh and I have agreed--this is hard. RECEIVING support can be hard and has definitely made us uncomfortable on a variety of levels. But why?

I cannot tell if it is a worthiness thing (we feel like we are undeserving of such attention and acts of great love), or if it is a guilt thing (knowing we just did this a year ago for Blake's birth), or if it's something else?

We are usually on the giving end of the equation, and find great joy in that (even when we give anonymously); it's just who we are and what we believe. To find ourselves on the other end has been quite a change though, and truly, we have been humbled. This is a growing process for sure, and there is no doubt we are loved.

Sigh. So continue on we will, and are grateful for all that comes our way. And as difficult as it may be, we will work to intentionally push aside any thoughts that discount our worthiness to receive anything given to us by those who love and care for our family.

Sometimes, that can be the hardest part . . .

So in an effort to embrace that plan (despite my difficulty in doing so), here goes--the ask: We still want (and need) support.

First and foremost, we need prayers. For the boys to continue growing well inside my belly until week 37 (which starts on 2/15), when they can be born healthy and strong via a delivery process that is smooth and perfect as well.  (I have had a few contractions over the past few days, and realize it's my body's way of telling me to SLOW DOWN.  Prayers that I do this well, as that's not something a go-getter like me often does naturally.)

For help. I have NO IDEA what it will look like to have newborn twins at home, and am not really sure if I can "prepare" for that reality. I think in some ways, we'll just have to figure it out as we live through it, and appreciate the offers (and follow-through!) of those who are willing to walk alongside us during that time as well. (One specific request I know we'll have--which was VERY helpful after we came home with Blake--was prepared meals for us to eat, so we didn't have to spend too much time in the kitchen or at the grocery store. Raleigh in particular is hoping we will be blessed as well as we were last time in this area!)

Whew!  I did it!  :)

Now to continue to rest and be grateful for (and welcome with open arms) all the gifts/blessings we have in our lives--people like YOU included!

Soaking up Blake

So we're less than 3 weeks away from "full term," and when our twin boys will be born into this world.  We're still figuring out how we'd like that to look, assuming all goes according to plan--(more on that in a separate post later)--however know that our time as a family of three is quickly coming to a close.  As excited as I am to meet the next two members of our family, thinking of the transition is a bittersweet one.

My time with Blake as an only child is down to a number of days, and I don't want to miss anything.  I just want to soak up every little bit of him I can, hold it close to my heart, and remember it forever.  These days will never be again, and soon, Blake won't be the only little boy to have a piece of my heart and/or need/want my attention. 

Not only do I have fears of letting him down in someway (I don't remember when I became a big sister, but have been told numerous times of how I was caught stepping on my brother's back several times shortly after he came home--so I can only imagine I was in some way struggling with the new little attention-getter that had invaded my space), but I also am grieving the loss of how life might be with him as an only child until the age of 2 or more, as Raleigh and I had imagined in our heads.  We will do all that we can to celebrate him individually and encourage his growth accordingly, but are realistic enough to know some things we'd expected to see or do with him might not happen (at least in the same way as we had originally envisioned).  Pregnancy so soon--with twins--has definitely been a game-changer.

I don't want to be too distracted with two more children so as to miss something important in his life.  I don't want him to feel second (or third) best, or really, anything less than the incredible son who is loved beyond words as he is now, just because we have two more little guys living under our roof.

I know, I know . . . "he's so little he won't know any different."  And maybe as a 5 or 10 or 30 year old, that will be true.  But I know--and as his mother I mean I know--he WILL know something is happening and he will sense a difference, even if he doesn't remember it later.  Three weeks from now, life in our family will NOT be the same.  He may just not be able to tell us with words how he feels.  And I so very much want to this adventure to be one that not only has a happy ending, but a happy journey to the ending as well.  And I don't want Blake to feel caught in the middle.

The clock is ticking, and there's still much to be done.  So, I'm taking this time to soak him up and delight in everything he is and everything he's becoming--including a big brother to twins.  I'm finding that the laundry is piling up as I play with Blake on the floor--guilt free.  I'm trading the logical and oh-so-necessary task of organizing for the fine art of making a mess (toys, dishes, blankets--anything we play with, really).  I'm spending my time singing silly songs and making funny noises, stretching out pre-nap and pre-bed rituals just to enjoy a little extra time with him, letting him sleep on my chest longer than usual before laying him in his crib, reading more stories than is generally allotted before bedtime, etc.  I want him to always know he is special and loved, no matter how many children we have.  And I'm not going to let the next three weeks pass without enjoying what I can of my time with him, and vise-versa.  These days are special.

In sharing these thoughts with a friend recently, I was reminded that for a little while, it may be divided attention, but it will never be divided love.  And the fundamental basis to that is that love does not divide--it multiplies.  That's it.  And in our family, it will multiply exponentially as we welcome two more little ones at once, growing from a family with one beautiful boy to three!  Knowing how much love we have surging through our circle already, it's difficult to imagine how much will abound and flow through our family then!

Here's to 3 full weeks (and not a moment less, God-willing) of soaking up Blake and delighting in his being.  AND . . . once the next two boys are here, continuing that practice . . . in just a slightly different way.

Blake enjoying his birthday cake.  

(We celebrated about a month early to ensure he got to feel as loved and special as he is, knowing that on his actual birthday he will have two little brothers to celebrate with him as well!)

Beautiful

I feel like I am as heavy as a whale. I waddle like a duck. I am about as quick as a turtle and roll over as easily as one too. My clothes don't fit well and my ankles have morphed into large sausage-like rolls that extend from my calves to my toes. The stretch marks across my belly are deep red and purple and my belly button is inverted halfway, oddly visible through the front of my clothes. I breathe heavy doing, well...nearly anything, and feel exhausted most of the time. Some days I don't even feel human, let alone pretty.

And yet every day--every single day--I am reminded of this reality, of how I look:
Adorable. Cute. Pretty. Flickin' Hot. Sexy. Beautiful.
He says it with words, he shows me with gestures. I may complain about this or that ("My hips are so wide!" or "How ugly are my cankles?!" or "I look incredibly large in this shirt."), however his response is the same, and I am reminded of how beautiful I am--even now--when I often feel anything but.

Now THAT is beautiful. And so am I.

Thank you, it's true. :)

TRUST.

2013.  It's a new year.  With new possibilities, new life, new love.  A chance to begin again and a chance to continue on.

Whether we like it or not, it will be everything we create it to be.  I've learned that's just how life works, and have embraced this idea (somewhat reluctantly at times) to help me adjust my attitude accordingly.  Do I want things to be difficult or easy?  Do I want to focus on all the beautiful and good I have before and around me, or just the pain and hardships?  (Give this one a shot, and you'll find you'll experience more of what you focus on, whether it's something you want or not.)  Do I want more of the same, or something completely different?  It's largely my choice, and how I choose to perceive and respond to any given situation.

So in thinking about this upcoming year, what do I want it to look like?  Lord knows we have a lot on our plate and in many ways, I'm downright terrified.  There are so many questions we don't have answers to, and so many "plans" that--since they remain in the future--remain unfulfilled.  And we know better than anyone that plans don't always work out as originally intended, and have therefore transformed our expectations into hopes--wishes for the future with great prayers backing each thought of how I'd like it to be.

2013.  What do I want to experience?  How do I want to feel?  How do I want to be?

Inspired by a friend's blog (http://www.inwardboundco.com/?p=1478) I decided to choose a word for this year, something that I could intentionally practice, that if I was more of, could/would support me in experiencing more of what I want to experience this year.  I thought of a word right away, yet chewed on it for awhile before making it official.  My word, for 2013: TRUST.

Trust God, that He truly knows what's best for me and my family this year (because it's His plan that's underway!), and will lead us in the right direction all the way around.  That He will provide for us, and remind us how much we are loved regardless of what may lie ahead.

Trust myself, that I will make good choices and do all that I need to for the well-being of myself and my family.

Trust Raleigh, that he will do the same on his end and that even when I cannot control certain pieces, he will manage what he can and things will be taken care of as needed.

Trust the doctors, that they support me in keeping our babies healthy through a full term pregnancy, and assist us in a smooth delivery of two healthy and strong baby boys.  And that if any situation presents itself that needs their expertise and knowledge to support us in making a decision about our care, that they will be able to guide us well, with great compassion and love.

Trust that we'll find adequate caregivers at the right time, to care not only for Blake, but his two brothers as well.  (Suggestions welcome!)

Trust that we'll financially be able to pull this off, and not only provide for our family of five with ease, but continue to share our blessings with others less fortunate.

Trust that others mean what they say, when they say it; believing offers of help and support from others are genuine and coming from the heart, versus being said out of obligation or because "that's just what you do".  And trust that when I accept these offers, I am not damaging the relationship with these folks and/or perpetuating any feelings of resentment or ingratitude.

TRUST . . . it is a daily challenge to live this word, and yet when I have done so wholeheartedly, have already seen great results.  Here's to more of it in the days, weeks, and months to come!

I Remember . . .

Once I stepped through the doors, I smelled it almost immediately . . . the NICU.  One glance at Raleigh and it was clear he was right there with me: "Do you feel those tingles?" he asked.  I nodded and continued on silently.  Slowly, the NICU doors came into view and a chill swept through my body as my heart began to race; we've been here before.

It's amazing how much sensory memory we have, and how something as simple as a light smell can transport us back in time to (at least in this case) a place that in some ways, I'd rather forget.  However I cannot forget, and last night, I most definitely--and vividly--remember . . .

I remember the sounds of the automatic doors opening, the deep rattle of the buzzer that unlocks the doors to the land of babies who need lots of love and attention (only those that need to enter do!), and the sounds of the monitors attached to every child to watch for oxygen and heart rate levels.  I remember the quietness of the floor as we trekked through still and empty hallways while other patients were sleeping, headed towards the chaos of the always-bustling NICU--wishing that I, too, could find some time and space to rest.  I remember kissing Blake before leaving his bedside, praying that he'd be in a better condition when I came back, and we'd be closer to going home as a family.  I remember climbing into my cold and sterile hospital bed at night, wishing I could cuddle with my baby on my chest like moms in other rooms were doing and/or have my husband hold me tight, just so I could feel his physical presence as I drifted off for a few minutes of restless sleep.  I remember digging through my suitcase looking for clean clothes to wear, realizing that 3 days' worth of postpartum outfits was not going to suffice for a 2+ week stay.  I remember looking out the window onto the city streets below, and wondering how in the world everyone could just carry on with their lives--walking their dog, laughing with a friend at lunch, casually chatting it up at a bus stop--all while our world seemed to stand still as we held our breath waiting for news that our baby boy was indeed getting better and would one day, come home with us.

In some ways, it looked so familiar last night.  And in others, so very different.  Familiar in that we knew where we were and what life can look like inside those walls.  Different, primarily because we weren't living there; we were just visitors, passing through.  This time, I didn't have to stay.  And Blake was in my arms.

The group of folks we were with (mainly first time parents) were all enamored with the details . . . the ipod docking stations in the private labor/delivery rooms, the dimable lights on the walls, the fireplace in the family waiting area, full wi-fi access, the jacuzzi tubs, the cute decorations with baby hand prints and footprints adorning walls and walkways, the kitchenettes for late night snacks and treats, etc. . . . all the little things that although cool at first, in our experience, didn't play much of a role at all when it came to welcoming our kiddo into this world and getting him healthy enough to come home.  We barely spent 4 hours enjoying those details (if at all) before my life turned upside down and Raleigh was scrambling to get into hospital scrubs and follow me down the hallway to the operating room.  My oh my, how quickly things can change.

Last night as we took another maternity tour at the hospital (just to be sure nothing had changed since we were there earlier this year for Blake's birth), my heart swelled with joy and ached with memory at the same time.  I had no idea how walking those halls again, seeing the rooms, hearing the hustle and bustle of a busy maternity ward would stir my heart . . . yet it did.  Last time we were here, I was too overwhelmed to take much in, and once things became "routine" amongst our time in the Mother/Baby Unit (where I was without my baby) and the NICU (our home away from home, essentially), we were more on survival mode than anything.  Boy, a place sure does look different when you're looking through those lenses.

So, I remember . . . and choose to look back at that time in our lives as one that shaped our family for the better.  It wasn't easy by any means, however one look at my beautiful baby boy and I realize it was all worth it and together, we grew so much.  And if we find ourselves in a similar situation again (hoping not, but being prepared for the possibility), I know that we will pull through and one day, will again pass by the doors that don't hold our current life, but rather, just a memory.  One that I choose to hold onto.

Club Member

So over the past few months it's become very clear, very fast--being parents to twins (and identical twins at that!) is not something many can say.  It appears we are indeed members of quite an exclusive club.

That being said, I've been asked the following questions quite a few times and realize that unless I was not in the middle of experiencing this adventure (and trust me, learning TONS as we go!), would probably be wondering the same.  So, here's a quick recap of my experience with regards to carrying twins, knowing full well that next month may look different that this one, and/or that other moms of twins might answer the questions very differently for themselves:

Q: Does it feel different having two squirming bodies play/roll/kick inside versus just one?
A: Not really--to me, it feels nearly the same to have these two boys moving inside as it felt when Blake was still swimming and growing.  Perhaps that's because I hardly ever feel both babies move at the same time (they'd BETTER get on the same schedule before arrival, that's for sure!) and so in general the movements feel the same, they just alter between my left and right front abdominal sides (which was how Blake felt as he turned around in my belly).

Q: If it really doesn't feel different to have two babies inside, does this pregnancy as a whole feel the same as it did when you had a singleton?
A: Most definitely NOT!  I feel like this pregnancy is moving along at a much faster clip than Blake's did, and I think Raleigh would agree.  Now, that could partially be because we found out we were pregnant ten weeks in so the first trimester was nearly complete before we learned we were expecting (talk about starting a race one-third of the way through!).  However having two babies inside means that I feel like I'm twice as far along at each step than I did with Blake.  My back hurts likes the dickens ALL THE TIME (not an issue for me with Blake until nearly the end).  And I'm bigger than I was at 26 weeks with Blake too (for obvious reasons).  I get winded much more quickly, have to pee far more often, my belly button is nearly inside out (a new experience for me), and am growing out of my clothes at a much faster pace.  As long as these babies stay in as long as they're supposed to, though (at least to 37 weeks, we pray), then I know the discomfort I feel now and in the weeks to come will all be worth it.

Q: How do you keep the babies straight?  (In other words, how can I tell who is who while in utero?)
A: From our first appointment with the specialist (called a perinatologist, for those who want to know), the doctors labeled the baby closest to my cervix as "Baby A" and the other one as "Baby B".  They can each flip/turn around in their own sacs, but their sacs cannot change places within my uterus (since they are attached/secured by the placenta, which they share).  Therefore Baby A is the one always on my right side and Baby is the one on my left.  Kicks on the right are therefore from Baby A and kicks on the left are from Baby B.  Depending on their vertical position (head up or head down), I can sometimes be unsure of who is kicking me near the lungs, and who is pushing my belly from below ("Was that Baby A or Baby B?").  However, they are starting to each have their own pattern of movement and I think I can usually tell them apart.  Baby B is my feisty one, always kicking HARD and forcefully pushing and rolling against my abdominal wall; he's fairly quick with his movements too, giving me fast jabs to the gut (and bladder!) when he feels the need.  Baby A is much more gentle and slow going, making soft roll-over movements here and light pressure kicks there.  I'm excited to see if this is just how they are moving at this stage in the pregnancy and/or if these traits will follow them to the outside world . . .
**On a side note, after Baby A appeared to be flipping us the bird during the last ultrasound, the doctor hypothesized that maybe Baby A was the feisty one, and that his movements seem lighter than Baby B's only because he's kicking and pushing against his brother instead of me!  I guess time will tell on this one!  :)

Q: Since the boys are twins (and identical at that), you're going to dress them in matching outfits, right?
A: Believe it or not, but identical clothing is not a requirement for identical twins.  (I checked, and there is no manual!)  And Raleigh and I have talked about it a lot, and very quickly came to the agreement that we don't want our boys to feel like they're only a person of value when they're part of the eye-catching twin duo (face it--folks are FASCINATED by twins!).  Instead, we want them to feel special as they are, all the time, simply because they are each uniquely wonderful and amazing.  We are therefore doing what we can to celebrate their differences (whatever they may be) and encourage them to be their own person, regardless of what their brothers (Blake included) might be/do.  Of course if they look and do the same things as their brothers simply because they are brothers and close in age (and/or because they want to), that's ok--we just don't want them to feel forced to be like this and/or make anything negative up about their individual worth since they were conceived and born as a pair.  Nothing against parents of twins who found matching outfits cutesy and/or entertaining, however we will purposefully be making a different choice for our boys--at least for now.

I think that's it for now, but am sure other questions will continue to pop up.  And as I receive them, I'll ponder them and answer them honestly.  We are still learning what being members of this exclusive club is all about, and what the benefits of membership are.  The cost is high, however I believe the rewards will be even higher.  Here's to a lifetime membership!