Joel Lives

Like the Jeffersons

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Fri, 15 Jul 2011 00:52:16 GMT

Finally.
Finally I have taken the necessary steps to renovate this blog into a much more workable format. Thanks to help from some brilliant and generous friends, the new blog is nearly complete and ready to go live. It is rather simple and plain for now, but as time goes on I will have the ability to customize and tweak things far beyond what is possible currently. Additionally, the behind the scenes workings are superior in countless ways that will make blogging both easier and more fun.
One of the best parts of this transition has been the realization that I have time to blog. If I took the time I've been working behind the scenes I could have blogged a few times a week the last few weeks.
Which is not life-shattering, but certainly more than I've had time to do in a very long time. This has me very, very excited.
On a technical note, please be sure your favorites and readers are set to www.joellives.com without any prefix or suffixes so you will follow us as we move. Do not be concerned if anything looks strange over the next week or so as we work out the kinks, I'm sure it will take a few adjustments to get everything right.
Thanks for sticking around, I promise twin pictures as a reward!

SJ

Unsaid

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 16:07:54 GMT

I keep thinking I have something to write and then it's awful. So I delete it, or change it completely and it sits there like a pile of some rancid tapioca smelling awful and looking disgusting.
Or I write and write and write and publish never comes. There is so much I have never said on this blog or in public and perhaps some of it belongs in the world but so much just feels private, personal. I wrote a great big long post explaining Joel's brain injury, what I know now of how it happened and how it shapes my view of homebirth, breech birth, hospital birth and how we could have done things differently.
But I don't want to hit publish.
I don't want this blog to become a debate on end of life issues, a battleground for the safety of homebirth, or a place for natural birth advocates to point their compass. I might personally advocate for many of these things but this is a place of peace and rest and sanctuary. It is certainly a place to tell the truth, and not to skirt the unpleasant, but not a place for advocacy and debate. There is no room in my heart to debate my views on what happened to my son; on the choices we made for him both before and after his birth. I can't bear to see in print all the awful things I've said to myself, all the criticism and second guessing and what ifs and should haves.
And I know with certainty that those words will arrive if I invite them in from the world. I have said them enough to myself, I have no need to hear them from others. The barb of responsibility for my son's death is buried deep in my heart, it will do good to no one to twist it deeper.
So if you are wondering why you've never seen me justify our choices, or tell the story of his birth, life and death in medical detail, this is why. I've no need for the drama, excitement or clicks it may bring. I don't want those who mourn with me to have to rise to my defense, or to welcome in the scorn and vicious attacks from those who will never understand.
At some point in my life there may be a place and time to share those details. If you need to hear them you are welcome to ask me privately, I welcome your inquiry via email. That's not to say I will answer, just to say you are welcome to ask. It has taken me two years to figure out why there is so much I haven't shared, and I am grateful for the peace of mind and heart that come with simply saying:
I don't have to.

Two

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Thu, 09 Jun 2011 16:06:57 GMT

Sweet Baby Joel,

There are so many things I want to tell you, today and every day. But today is your second birthday and it is so hard to find the words because you won't turn two - you'll never be more than five days old. And that, my baby, is probably the hardest thing. I watch time go by and people change and your brother and sister just keep growing but you are stuck in those five days. Never will you change or grow or be the source of countless new discoveries the way every other baby is to their mommy and daddy. And every single second of every single day is a moment further away from those five days.
I really hate that.
I hate moving further and further from you but Joel I have to remember that every day I am closer to you too. That every moment we live here we are closer to you there. That, my littlest pal, is the thing I really love. I love so much the thought of all our family together, of knowing every infinite thing about you and just being your momma together, instead of apart. I love knowing eternity is ours, little man, and this life is but a vapor.
I really love that.
But that isn't what I need to tell you today. I think you already know those things, I think you know countless things and so much more than me about so much of what occurs. I could tell you everything that has happened, and is happening but I think you know that too. Joel, I want to tell you the things that you can't see. The things that parents so often forget to say as the days wind on and we repeat ourselves again and again, "eat your peas, don't touch that, we'll go to the park later!" I think sometimes we forget that our children don't have a magic x-ray to our hearts and they don't know the things we are thinking and feeling every moment between the peas and the park. Those are the things I want to say to you, and to Van and Maggie, and to never let any of my babies live for a moment, here or in heaven, without knowing what I really feel. That is what I want my children to remember about their mother, that they knew her heart, that she spilled it out for them every moment of their lives. So my sweet baby, here is what my heart is saying to you every moment you were here, and every one since you left.
I love you. I love you until love ends and begins and loves infinity. I love you until it all makes no sense. I love you bigger than my body, deeper than my heart and greater than my mind can fathom. You and me are love. I would have gladly died in your place or right there with you I love you so much but somehow I am to love you from here while you are there and so you need to know my love is big enough to make it from earth to heaven and back. My love for you is endless and perfect and patient and will never, ever stop. In the words of the ever eloquent Westly, "Death cannot stop true love, all it can do is delay it for a while.'' Joel, we may be delayed, but my love cannot be stopped. I hope you are basking in it, always.
I am so proud of you. I think most parents hope the world will be a better place because of their children. I already know this is true of you, thank you so much dear baby. I know that mamas have hugged their children tighter because they knew you. I know that people stopped to love each other because of you. I know that people will go to heaven because of you. I don't know how a parent could be more proud than I am of you. You were strong and tough and stunning and sweet and I never hesitate to tell people how amazing you were because I cannot contain how proud I am of you. Your life was as inexplicable as your death, and in every part you did something amazing - you made this world better for countless people. What a legacy, my son, what a legacy.
I would not trade you for anything in earth or heaven, you are the perfect child for me. There is no person, no child, no baby I would rather have than you. Even if I could have another baby for a hundred years, I'd rather have our nine months and five days we had to ourselves, and the five days we shared with the world. You are exactly who I always dreamed you'd be, exactly the boy I imagined, exactly the baby I always wanted. I want you. Forever.
Happy Birthday Joel James. Thank you for showing me what it means to love, to be proud, to know the deepest longings of my heart all wrapped up in 6 pounds and 12 ounces. Thank you for reminding me of the mother I want to be to your siblings, and for sharing your amazing heart with the world. Thank you for making it a better place, not just for our little family but for countless others. Thank you for making me a Momma, for being my baby, for being you.

Happy second birthday Sprout,

I love you,

Momma

What Matters

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Thu, 02 Jun 2011 02:14:37 GMT

Joel's birthday is next week.
I don"t know what that means. I don't know what it is like to have an almost 2 year old. I don't know what it is like to have a single child at home. I don't know what it is like to have a toddler and twin infants.
Van and Maggie are thriving. They are growing and giggling and milestoning away. They are him and they are me and they are Leo and they are my grandmother I never met and their grandpa Jimmy and Dutch and Scottish and dark and light and what keeps me up at night and the reason I get up every morning.
And it will always be that dichotomy, won't it? The life and the death and the living while dying every minute because my son is not here with me. The waiting and the treasuring every moment but my goodness the wishing for what is to come, but the loving every minute because what have I learned from his short life if not to treasure the very instant you are living because who knows what is next?
This is the only year the twins won't experience some of Joel's cake. Last year, pregnant and tired I labored over his first cake.There was only one that seemed fitting.

Of course a rainbow cake. Complete with food coloring galore and homemade frosting, with some help from a grandma and an aunt, we put together the first of many. Every year will have a rainbow cake for the boy who sends the rainbows, the baby who sent hope while dying. And we ate it, all of us, including the two still nestled warmly in my rapidly expanding belly, snug under the shirt worn last the final few moments I shared with their brother.

This year their tummies are too little for such treats, next year I expect cheers and hurrahs for the momma with the big cake to share and smear with short chubby fingers. There will be many traditions, I suppose, customs and habits and things we do because we are a family permanently minus one. So far this one is my favorite because hey. CAKE.

Wonder Woman

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Wed, 17 Nov 2010 20:24:00 GMT

I have superpowers.
Yes, more than one.
But I'd like to demonstrate one for you right now.
I can *magically* make all of you say the same thing at once.
Ready?
I am exhausted from lack of sleep.
~and the people said~
WELL DUH.
See? You all said it.
Here's the rub, the babies, for the most part, sleep very well. I, for the most part, do not.
SO. DUMB.
I was going to bed later than them, waking to pump during the night and also waking with them. Not to mention for some reason when I would wake it would take me at least an hour to fall back asleep.
So.
First I quit staying up (hence, no blogging), then I quit the midnight pumping session. Then Maggie quit sleeping through the night.
Sigh.
A twin mom once told me that there is an extra measure of grace for twin moms which includes relatively easy babies who sleep pretty well. The Peppers really do, I cannot complain. Maggie is just in a growth spurt or something. She is also very inquisitive and afraid to miss ANYTHING. Especially a meal.
But I digress.
Van is afraid to miss a nap. He is slightly more laid back than her. (understatement) He is not "easier" though, just more laid back. Somehow he is also infinitely more sensitive. Don't ask me how those qualities go together, I don't know, they just do. But you should meet him, his smile will change your life.
Maggie's bright eyes will change your life. She's been like that since birth. Amazing.
Wait, where was I? (See? I get nowhere even when I can)
Today they are taking their first nap. We like naps, wow.
Anyway.
Problem number two with blogging is that I had it in my head that to come here I needed to write something stunning, or bring adorable pictures of my munchkins. I know these two things are fun, I love sharing them both, but I really need this blog. I needed to remember that for as much as I truly adore all of you and am grateful you show up here and for me in so many places (love you) (love you) (love you) that this is my space. This is my place to reflect however and whenever I need to. So you may begin seeing a new or different kind of post from me. I even wrote some I didn't publish because I thought you'd wonder what happened to me.
Three kids in 14 months happened.
Joel happened.
Twins happened.
Deployment happened.
So ummm, if you don't like some of what you see here in the future, can you just not tell me? Because I need to write what I write and how I write and it just is what it is. But dear heavens I can't wait for the time to wade through the words and emotions around this new life. Somehow I doubt a different kind of post will do it.
But it is a start. And I have to start somewhere.
And naptime is apparently over, bye!

If You Feed Them They Will Grow

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Sat, 30 Oct 2010 02:36:00 GMT

Van and Maggie...I don't know where to start.
Sometimes these early pictures are hard to look at because they were just so little.
For as much as I joke about bricks on their heads, I am eternally grateful they are growing quickly. It's hard to feel like a good mom when your babies are skinny. And they were skinny.
These hospital bands on their ankles barely fit around my thumb.

So they ate and they slept and they ate and they slept. (usually together which was too precious for words)

Sometimes they cried. Sometimes they had dirty diapers. (ok, all the time, but they're still adorable)
The oufits they are wearing here are preemie size. Mah teeny tiny behbehs are supah cute.

And then they began to grow. Faster and faster and they changed overnight and it hasn't stopped since.

I've been so busy being their mom I haven't edited a single photo. I'm lucky if I remember to take them. So the background on some pictures is super interesting. (Hi Jackie!)
But some outfits are too important not to document, we made sure we captured those.

At some point Maggie's cheeks started to take on a life of their own. I love them.
We also observed Van's hair was made to faux hawk. I call it a Van hawk. So should you.

We still make them hang out; I don't think they mind. They could probably be cuter, I'm just not sure how.

Sometimes I actually catch a picture I like. Or in this case love.

Eventually I'm going to be coordinated enough to catch their unbelievable grins. More often I only remember the camera during moments like these. I guess that will have to do for now.

Follow My Nose

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Thu, 28 Oct 2010 02:38:00 GMT

I'm just showing up BECAUSE I CAN.
I love that.

I just ate a bowl of Fruit Loops as a bedtime snack and can't get the sound of Leo's voice out of my head.
I like it when that is the track on repeat.

As opposed to some lame commercial song.
Like "I've got a brand new pair of rollerskates..."
...but that commercial makes me laugh every time.
And now that song will be in your head all night.
*chuckle*

Van's eyelashes started to curl today. Literally today.
How does that happen?

Maggies eyelashes are twice as thick as mine and longer.
Unfair.

I'd show you pictures but you wouldn't believe it is them. I need to upload a time regression, and I will.
But not tonight, my Fruit Loops are gone and I'm off to bed.

Tomorrow it might be Trix.
And pictures.

A Trail of Breadcrumbs

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Wed, 27 Oct 2010 02:18:00 GMT

...No amount of coffee, no amount of crying,
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine
No no no no no
Nothing else will do,
I've gotta have you....*

They're peacefully asleep, and not for the first time I'm certain they'll stay that way until some hour most consider morning. I've been waking so long at 4am my body faithfully rises at that hour no matter the state of the two asleep at the foot of my bed. So tonight, like the last ten or so I'll rise, pump, gaze at the night sky, and fall back to sleep for a few moments until the wiggles and grunts wake the Momma for clean pants and some early breakfast.
It's the first night of my decision. So while quiet music plays, driving my perpetually busy mind to indulge in a few moments of sentimentality, I sit in front of the glowing screen and write a few words here, and a few to the man on the other side of the world. I need those words more than sleep, so I've decided to steal a few moments each night after the small ones drift off to find my way back to the place where so many thoughts are captured and escape all at once.
And yes, I'll pass along the statistics and the pictures and the thrilling mundane of what and how and the beauty in first coos and giggles, but right this moment a thousand moments uncaptured beat an ever intensifying rythm upon my mind, pounding their way down my arms and out this keyboard and I must write them first. But just being here, sifting through words once again, seeking the favorite and the just right of not-too-hot and not-too-cold and perfectly descriptive and slightly less used is making me smile.
I'm so glad to be back. Thanks for waiting.

*The Weepies

When You're Having Fun

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 18:56:00 GMT

You are the most generous, caring, PATIENT people I know.
I can't believe you're still here.

A MONTH.

WHERE did it go?

Well, around here it has been beautiful, chaotic, sleep deprived, stunning, scary, elated, sad, overwhelming, blissful, random, nothing and everything like we thought it would be. {I have 73 more adjectives for you but I kind of figured I might be testing your patience already.}

We brought two babies home. Two babies who were born just a bit before we expected, but who needed no medical support whatsoever. Two babies who were so healthy we jumped the hospital after just two and a half days. Two babies who look everything and nothing like we expected. Two babies who LIVED.

Who LIVE.

We said goodbye to the Daddy after the most amazing two weeks. I don't know how to put into words what it is like watching someone you love rise up and be everything you ever imagined they could be. Watching them fill a role too big for anyone, and somehow doing it better than fiction. Watching them love in a way that brings tears in an instant. He is remarkable, and now he is busy being remarkable somewhere else. Being someone else. But we know he has the heart of a Daddy, and I can easily say those were the best two weeks of my life. At one point I looked over at him, our giant bed divided by a bouncy seat and a co-sleeper, filled by slumbering bundled infants and we both looked over at Joel's picture and while the tears poured down my face I simply said, "I'm just SO HAPPY." Our family was all there and it was wonderful.

And Beth came. And she did things like this:

and this:

Yes, Van is blonde. Very.
And yes, Maggie is dark. Very.
It's awesome.

Oh and this:

Oh. My. Heart.
If you are or can be near Northwest Indiana go hire her . Because duh.

And now we are adjusting to life past the first two weeks. When our little ones shifted and changed and had a rough week (Oh, week THREE, you are on my list!) and now are maybe pulling past and finding a new normal once again. Life without the Daddy but with blessed loving support from family and hopefully when good nights follow the bad. It's twice as hard to get a good night when you have two babies, they take turns with the tough times which is simultaneously great and awful. When Van sleeps for 5 hours, Maggie has awful gas pain. When she dozes for a steady four, he can't stop spitting up. And yes, I am exclusively breastfeeding both of them. Just like every other mom I know, there is a story there too, and of course the challenges were nothing like what I thought and it has been a thousand times harder than I expected but my babies are worth every painful and difficult moment.

I truly hope we are emerging from the newborn fog and I can return to this space. I have SO MUCH to say and it is physically painful to stifle. Plus I want to share a gozillion pictures so you can all tell me how cute our kids are. Right? RIGHT??? And I think the world needs to know that Van is laid back and easy going, and he always lets an arm hang off of whatever, and that I call Maggie small and mighty with her bright, bright eyes and inquisitive nature. You need to know that she has a left dimple and that Van is cold if the temperature falls below eighty. True story.

I hope. I hope. I hope. Surprisingly one of the most difficult things for me has been the fact that the chaos has reigned for so long. I did not expect to be consumed for this long and I have mentally struggled to cope with just surviving day in and day out for nearly a month. I stole these few moments today, and I have faith there are more to follow. But for now, I know that one little bum needs a clean diaper and I bet the other is shortly to follow. Duty calls. (Get it? DUTY? Hee.)

Oh,and they often get hiccups at the same time. Like right now.

So much love to you all,

SJ

To Hold a Rainbow

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 11:10:00 GMT

They're here. We can't believe it, but they are here.

Joel"s brother and sister are really here.

It feels like if we look at them too hard, they'll disappear. But we keep doing it anyway.

                   Van                                                                     Maggie

               Gideon Van                                                              Margaret Rose
                 5lb 13oz                                                                     4lb 12oz
                 11:39am                                                                     11:40am
                    20in.                                                                             18in

They are doing well, and so are we, details soon.

To no one's surprise, it just so happens I have had the three cutest children ever born. Shocking, right?

God is so very good. All. The. Time.

Quoting Inigo

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 01:36:00 GMT

Let me 'splain.

No. there is too much. Let me sum up.

We are mere days away from a full term, complication-free twin pregnancy. This is staggering and humbling on a multitude of levels, and our gratitude is truly boundless. I can tell you that I have done everything in my power to make this happen, but I know the truth of it is that we have been truly blessed. I cannot and will not take the credit for this, I know too many moms who worked too hard to get here, and circumstances beyond their control prevailed. So I will state with certainty that these circumstances were most certainly beyond our control and we have been richly blessed. We praise God daily, and loudly.

My absence in this space has been far more painful to me than I had imagined. The words come in fleeting moments and encounters and beg to be written but time, oh how precious has time become. On one hand we counted the moments left in the hourglass to some safe state for these two little lives and every day felt like an eternity as their lungs matured and their bodies gained strength. But on the other the minutes are fleeting, for as they become stronger I become weaker and less capable, my atrophy is nearly palatable.

This pregnancy has been difficult, while free of serious troubles for any of the three of us, no one would say easy. Emotionally the phases have rolled over me and tossed me about and tonight I sit peacefully awaiting Joel's siblings. It feels like we are all here, all ready, and we all know it won't be easy. But there is peace, stunning peace and suddenly the price of the journey seems small in comparison to this moment, this realization, this beautiful place where our family all fits in a ready stance, eager to move forward. Physically I am taxed in a way that has never been a part of my life before. I have driven my body to its limits repeatedly, running long distances, throwing hundreds of bales of hay, riding until burning muscles gave way to complete fatigue. But this is not that. This is utter exhaustion after tasks that barely make a to do list they are so trivial. This is chronic pain, managed by therapists and doctors and slow, hard work. This is complete weakness and surrender, acknowledgement that I simply cannot do what my mind tells me I must. So if only two hours can be had at a desk, they must be dedicated to the work that has placed the roof over our heads, and so the words linger and meander around my mind, hoping to be written another day.

And these twins, this Red and this Green who I am so sad to have missed sharing with you lately as they continue to tell me who they are and will be and who never make their Momma wonder, with a simple placement of my hand they come and push against my palm and tell me they are well. They never hesitate to reassure my worried mind, never still too long, creating even more gratitude in a mother's heart so broken and already so healed. I still wonder how well they know their brother, if he is the one who told them to be kind and responsive, and if somehow he coached his brother into the same stubborn postition, yet destined for a different birth. Having done all in my power to convince them to be born like most babies do, I easily tell you that the plan of my Lord is far better than mine, and while the reasons may be hidden from me forever, I gladly speculate that we needed this. We needed different and Joel's birth will always be his own, and these two as well. We'll give them all the time they desire, and when they are ready it will be a surgeon's skilled hand that brings them into the world and quickly to the chest of their mother, right where they belong. I feel no loss in this, simply anticipation at the sight of the faces I dream of daily, and the deep longing to hear my child cry for the very first time.

And you - you are still very much on my mind. You who say the name of my firstborn son in places of joy and worship and generosity. You who fill my inbox with loving concern as I go absent, too focused on gestation for much else, but loved and cherished nonetheless. You who drive the thoughts in my mind to share the pictures of a spendid rainbow cake made for the baby who sends the rainbows, or of this belly that defies gravity and proportion. You who make me miss this space, and realize how profoundly good people can be - you matter so much as well in my longing to write and share and participate. You who made Joel's birthday such a stunning tribute, I am grateful for every single one of you. I smile and I pine for those coveted moments when this is our regular space once again. Someday, I say, surely someday soon.

Soon. Very soon there will be three where now there is one and I promise the good news will be shared as it is known. I'm just so glad to be sharing it with you.

Recluse

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 20:58:00 GMT

It's never what you expect.
It is why we can't explain our grief to you, or wrap it neatly in a box or a chart or graph, and why the best grief books only make sense to those who suffer deep loss.
Surrounded by those who love me, utterly swamped by those who came here and made something so amazing, and worn down by those who are coming after, I spent Joel's birthday in awe, in grief, in celebration.
And the days that came after, his days, followed in a daze of recollection and mourning a deep desire to cradle his precious head in my hands just once more. To kiss his nose and to admire his perfect form for just one more instant. To somehow make the days longer and more memorable, more meaningful, more his. But it didn't work, and they came to a close with a few balloons making their way far into a dusk laden sky as I let him go one more time.
I had anticipated difficulty, sadness, and a mix of so many other things. What I did not expect was to somehow fade, withdraw and lose my way back. Like two waifs without their breadcrumbs I wandered into some forest of intense separation, acute pain, and physical limitation I never could have anticipated.
I lost the heart to share, the will to engage and the time to force myself to do either. I hesitate to even say I'm back. Very little of any of those things have returned. But this place draws me near, if nothing else than to thank you for coming here on his day, for saying his name over and over and over, for making sure his birth, his life, were celebrated as they should be, and not whispered and mourned in a dark corner.
I miss being here, but somehow not enough to return just yet. I need to thank you for your concern, your emails, your prayers and words of sweet hope. I miss the friends who have created a home on this internet, I miss commenting and banter and connection. But not yet enough to engage.
My days are terribly short, and fill in an instant. We are healthy and well, and continuing to defy odds. I suppose that is something you can always count on about us, all of us here in the home where Joel was born. We've been defying the odds for a long, long time. Joel did, and his little brother and sister are working on it as well. My health is stunning the doctors, my husband is doing work men half his age view in fear, and our two youngest children are finding ways to amaze us daily. Still stubbornly head up, still stubbornly in utero, and hopefully still whispering secrets to their firstborn brother, I have no doubts that their entrance and lives will be something of record, not like their brother, and all the same a legacy in their own right.
Until then, we'll be spending our days nurturing, growing and trying to find the words to our story once again.

One

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 13:36:00 GMT

One year ago, this one face, made us three.



And made me a Momma.



His Momma.



It has been a bigger responsibility than I ever could have imagined, little man.



And I wouldn't change a single thing about who you are.



Happy Birthday Joel James!

*For every comment on this post I will donate $1 to Friends of Maddie up to $100 as Joel's birthday present. Please chime in, I'd love an excuse to max this donation and for the heavens to roar with birthday wishes for a baby boy so dearly loved and missed.*

Third and Goal

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 17:35:00 GMT

These pictures were taken yesterday, on Joel's due date. (The first one)
So Monkey decided to make a cameo, he finds the belly to be a delightful hangout spot. It looks rather comfy, no?



Well, comfy unless you grew to this proportion in just 27 weeks and a couple days.



I had a routine check with Dr. Incredible and I'm measuring at about where a singleton would be at 35 weeks; I'd say that looks about right. I'm pretty close to as big as I ever got with Joel, so from here on out we're in new territory for my body. And for as much as I feel the difference between letting your body grow at a natural rate and amping up the speed, and I certainly notice the fact I am processing double the normal blood volume, I have to say I'm pretty impressed with how the old bod is keeping up. I'm 35, and not ashamed. In fact, I'm rather proud considering how fit I've become over the last 15 years and how good I feel most of the time. We are doing chock full of awesome considering the proximity of my pregnancies, my age, multiples and that we are now in the third trimester so hey - go me!

The babies were once again both breech. They've spent nearly this entire pregnancy in that position and I am becoming concerned about the lack of time and space left for them to shift. Those of you who have known me a while have seen me when I have a goal and a plan - I am kicking it in high gear to give them the chance to turn. Between the entire medical team and my spouse there are a few theories floating around why I keep growing breech babies, and I think they all have some validity, so I am fighting them tooth and nail. I didn't realize how important it was to me until I began to face down the reality that they may not turn.

*Sidebar: I KNOW the number one priority is healthy babies. I KNOW we can have a surgical birth and all three be just fine. I WILL accept this if I must.

Because of Joel's birth there is something in me that desperately needs to birth these babies naturally. If I have to let it go, I will, but I am not one to go down without a fight and right now I still have choices. I am going to give these two every opportunity to get their little noggins where they belong before I accept that reality. A singleton would have a lot more time, the Peppers are going to run out of room to make the maneuver much sooner. Remember those abs I mentioned? They are part of what is working against us. With a nearly full term belly you can still trace the lines of my oblique muscles down my sides. A tight stomach is not a breech baby's friend; I can't do anything about that but encourage them to move as soon as possible before they have no choice.
I have researched this like, well, like a lawyer. Which means from every angle, looking at studies and medical research and every attempted methodology. I've been seeing a chiropractor for a while now and will continue. The working theory is that I've had some imbalances in my physiology for a very long time that likely contributed to Joel's position, and are continuing to do the same to the Peppers. We are trying to work them out, but adding physical therapy to the mix to push muscles long locked in unhealthy patterns into a better place to allow my pelvis to work the way it should. I am also aggressively employing methods at home having to do with contorting myself into various positions multiple times per day and encouraging the babies to move with ice, music and light. Sound crazy? Walk in my shoes a day, this is the least of my crazy.

I really, really need this to work. The thought of giving it up has been sending me into a tailspin. Am I looking for a do-over? Probably something like that, but I need it in a way that I'm having a hard time articulating, so will you pray for the Peppers to turn? I know it sounds silly, and in the big picture this is not the most important thing but it is really, really important to me.

I know I don't write about my faith as much as I used to. It isn't that I have less, it's that somehow it feels assumed to me lately. In case you're wondering, I've placed in all in God's hands. It's where these babies have and will spend their entire lives, whatever that may be, and I know it is where I am safe. He controls the outcome of every endeavor, and I know that my role is limited. I'm just doing my part, and waiting to see what wonders the God of the universe has in store for us all.

The Waning Days of Sprout

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 16:43:00 GMT

So it's June.
All of a sudden I have so much to say, and yet less time than ever to say it. Some of it might need to be said, some is probably better left unsaid, but every single day is mired in deep, deep memories of this day, and this day, and this day last year.

May 15 - graduate law school, rotund but sassy. Tell Sprout we made it, you can be born anytime you want.
May 26 - finally find the time for some maternity photos with Jilly.

June 1 - grin knowing we will have a June baby for sure, this is it!
June 3 - Sprout's due date
June 4 - Sprout's other due date (they can never really make up their mind about these things, can they?)
...and then the blurry days of inevitability and the slow motion of impatient waiting, followed by shock and grief.

Joel's first birthday is June 9. My mom and my sister will come, and we will make him a special cake. We'll eat it too, because cake is eaten in my house. 1:45am is early, I'm still pretty sure I will be awake. I still can't tell his birth story, I realized the other day it is because it is ugly and horrifying and I have no desire to have those things affiliated with my son. I remember enough, and honestly the less, the better. My counselor is working me through the vivid memories that won't heal, and I've decided that this is one situation where remembering the good and forgetting the bad is alright. I don't need the rest and neither does Joel.
The NICU stories are slowly and tearfully making their way to the page. I may try to tell some of them here but I'm still not sure. I thought for sure by now, a year later, I'd have so many things chronicled, memorialized, tidily in place. But our home with the unhung photos and this blog with the untold stories are proof that the chaos of grief is not my slave. It will come, and for today that is enough.

If you would have bought Joel a gift for his birthday, or if you are just so moved, will you instead spend those funds supporting a NICU family through Friends of Maddie ? Don't feel obligated, I just want somewhere for that goodwill to go, and I know every single day babies around the country enter the NICU with loving and confused families in tow. I will be donating per comment on Joel's birthday post, so please stop by and wish him happy birthday so I have an excuse to support struggling families.

Thank you. Thank you for being here, for loving me, and loving Joel. Every day right now is harder than the last but I am perpetually supported by this online community and of course my friends and family. You are such a big part of what has made the last 358 days survivable.
Thank you.

Saturation

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Wed, 26 May 2010 20:15:00 GMT

It's like walking around in a photograph with the colors dialed up too high in Photoshop, this life right now. The first baby demands my attention vehemently. His due date hovers; appointments are made for that day, a summer show premiers, and then his birthday winks at me from around the corner, duly noted with joy and dread.
And all the small reminders still lurk, like the stray blue pillowcases from the sheets that were on the bed when he was born. I was wrapped in one sheet and placed in an ambulance, it was discarded at the hospital. But the pillowcases remain, a scattered remnant of a night relived again and again. Those summer shows are coming back, the ones I watched in the waning days of slow motion and relaxation, waiting for signs, being tricked nightly as contractions would wax and then wane. A basket full of cards, relocated for painters, but carefully placed back out, isn't ready to be put away.
But these two coming after shine with equal intensity. Their movements demand acknowledgement as they grow and their space is slowly becoming restricted. This body aches and complains with the sudden changes of two where only one was meant to live, and preparations must be made. That in itself is like mixing a set of the most brightly hued paints, swirling in a bucket as I sob over the clothes he never wore, but must smile and plan for his siblings to take up the task.
There are cribs to set up, the changing table will come back down and sit in the place where it stood the day he was born. The cradle will resume a spot at the end of my bed and the thought of it there makes me ache as if I were being torn to shreds, but then Red kicks me so hard I gasp, and Green wiggles into a rib. It isn't even that I can't figure out how to love the three of them, but that loving them is so demanding right now. It is intense in every way, there are no quiet days to muse, there is always something big and bright and glowing with the intensity of the sun to spin my poor heart this way and then that. Everything is so very big, so very important, so very right. this. minute.
It's hard to steal the minutes to dedicate to one or the other. I used to do that a lot, just give Joel all of me for a sneaky half hour, sitting in the nursery, rocking in the chair where we never cuddled, crying into a blanket made for the boy I talk to all day long, sobbing apology after apology and doting on thoughts of reunion. Just missing him and doing nothing else, loving him and wanting him and losing myself in being his mother here without him. Or squealing with delight at the two munchkins who wiggle and squirm and have soccer tournaments in my torso, letting them be my sole focus, promising them more, vowing to get it right, believing they will make it and dreaming of a twosome wandering with the Daddy and me on our adventures.
Now that feels impossible. Neither will allow me a moment with the other and I'm not angry, just torn and sad and exhausted from leaping from massive emotion to massive emotion. This time of year is so clearly reminiscent of when Joel was here, it feels like it should be all his but this burgeoning belly isn't his anymore, it belongs to Red and Green. I want Joel to have all of me, I feel like he deserves it and missing him right now demands that and more. I want Red to have all of me, my second son deserves no less than my first and his rabid objections to all things cold and enthusiasm for Kool-Aid and yogurt demand it as well. And Ms. Green should have all of me too. The daughter I somehow never imagined I'd have should have a raptly devoted mother, attentive to making sure her entrance is never foreshadowed by anyone, let alone those two silly boys, no one will put my baby in a corner.
So I wander these days, exhausted, looking backward and forward in a perpetual state of high emotion and whiplash. Pregnant and mourning, alone and surrounded, Mother to three and to none.

Comic

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Tue, 25 May 2010 20:37:00 GMT

We have a new character in our cast. Her name is Dr. Doom.
:smirk:
The doctor I was forced to see last week (Dr. Incredible and Midwife Amazing were out) is one I encountered before. One who looked me in the eye after reading my chart and said, wide-eyed, "WHY would anyone have a baby at HOME?"
My first thought was, "To avoid people like YOU, lady." But I'm polite so I said, "Actually the research supports the safety of home birth - if you take the time to read it."
:smirk:
Thanks to Counselor Smartypants (it's a character day) I have decided I will never see Dr. Doom again. Period. I can choose that much and if she is on call the night the Peppers make their appearance it will be a battle of wills to get her through Super Doula and in to see me. I will not be subjected to her condescending attitude or her ignorance again.
(I told you it was a character day.)
Anyway, I've had time to think on her foreboding lecture last week, and also time to review the results.
You know, all those results that directly contradicted her deep, dark fears of pre-term labor and medicine! can! fix! it! all! Fix what? We are fine. I need to stay hydrated and off my feet as much as possible; the plan I had before I went in that day.  I fully understand the need to run tests to determine what is happening to the best of our ability. But the complete disregard for evidence based medicine in pregnancy and birth, combined with a worst case scenario lecture before any testing was complete is far beyond what I am willing to tolerate from any medical provider.
Dr. Doom wanted me to follow up this week and I will, with Dr. Incredible. We will sit down on Thursday and have a rational, reasoned conversation about how the babies are doing, how I am doing and how best to keep them cooking for at least another ten weeks. Sorry if it is TMI but my cervix is holding on like a champ. If this were a singleton pregnancy I wouldn't think twice about my Braxton Hicks contractions. So the key will be to determine when they should be alarming, and when they are just my body doing what it does during pregnancy. We will make a plan with Dr. Incredible.
On to the fun stuff. You know what happens when you grow two babies at once just a year after growing one? You get mega-preggo in record time.

26 weeks kids:



Ten more weeks? At least? Really?
It's possible I may tip over sometime in July.
But I still kind of have a waist. If you touch my sides you can feel my ribs still, see?



I wore pearls today because I wanted to feel pretty. It's working, you should try it sometime.
I have pictures of Red and Green's adorable little noggins from last week. As soon as I can scan them in I'll share!

In Limbo

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Thu, 20 May 2010 00:40:00 GMT

I’ve been a bit frightened.

Now I’m less frightened and more frustrated.

Back up.

Joel’s pregnancy was truly idyllic. When we discovered we were pregnant a bit sooner than we’d expected we were absolutely thrilled. But we were also a little concerned. My only sister who has children becomes very ill when pregnant, and we had no idea how my body was going to react to its new passenger. My due date was just three weeks after my scheduled graduation from law school so I would be under incredible stress the whole pregnancy and any complications could quickly derail completion.

I’m a silly worrier. I felt great. As long as I kept munching every few hours the first trimester went quickly and without incident. I’d occasionally be nauseous in the evening, but that passed in just a few weeks. My schedule that term included a mid-day break and I’d head out to my Grand Cherokee for a nap when I needed one. I had a pillow and sleeping bag ready; it felt ridiculous but it worked perfectly to keep me functional and mentally sharp as I hammered my way through my final year.

I exercised with vigorous walks for nearly the entire pregnancy. It was truly free of worry and distress for both Joel and me. Being a research addict, (most lawyers are, it’s what they do, contrary to prime time tv) I knew exactly the possibilities outside of our experience. And every time I spoke of our little monkey I would state our immense gratitude for the simplicity and bliss of our complication free pregnancy. I couldn’t believe how well he was tolerating the intense pressure of my education, but he was. It was amazing.

When Dr. Incredible first saw those two little Peppers tucked away and growing, she sat me down for a lecture. “This,” she said, “is not that.” And went on to tell me the program we’d be following (based on the extensive research of Dr. Barbara Luke ), and warned me that a majority of multiple pregnancies result in bedrest at some point or another. She also engrained in me the realization that everything is different with twins. It isn’t just a few more pounds - the body reacts differently, is under intensely different pressure, and things can change in literally moments. This, is indeed, not that.

During a normal singleton pregnancy Braxton Hicks contractions are your friend. They are your body preparing for labor, and a healthy part of what needs to happen. I had them all the time when exercising while pregnant with Joel and saw them as my body doing its job to perfection. They are not your friend in a twin pregnancy. Because the cervix and uterus are under such increased strain, any indication that labor preparation is occurring is taken very seriously and put to an end promptly. Braxton Hicks are to be avoided, the cervix is closely monitored at more frequent appointments and women are encouraged to look for any possible signs that things just aren’t right. Any sign can mean pre-term labor; intuition is highly regarded in multiple pregnancy.

Over the last week or so I’ve been exhausted. Intense pain began to surface in my hips and Braxton Hicks went from a few a week to a certainty every time I stood up. I went back to the books and the research and realized it was time to listen to my body. Right. Now. So I intentionally cut my work schedule in half, cut my expectations of myself and put myself in a position to rest far more during the course of every day. But when I saw the chiropractor last night she confirmed the nagging thoughts in the back of my mind. The increase in symptoms over such a short amount of time should at least be checked out, so I called and saw a doctor this morning.

This led to a long day of checks, appointments (2 pants off, UGH), and a very stern lecture. My cervix is great, the Peppers look perfect, labs have not yet returned that are looking for chemical changes that occur immediately prior to labor. But the Braxton Hicks are not ok. There is no telling when things could change and those contractions I once saw as perfect preparation now make me scowl. The good news is that they stop when I stop. The bad news is that they are a certainty if I am mobile. So the doctor is not certain I should remain mobile. She has not yet given me the final word about how much I am going to be allowed to continue to do. Given Dr. Incredible’s initial lecture I’ve been preparing for restrictions, but I doubt a person is ever ready to relinquish their life for complete rest. Especially a person who is running a life and a business by herself.

I can’t tell you how discouraging it is to feel that tightening every time I stand up. I’m not used to this. I know I am spoiled. I know we were so incredibly blessed with Joel. I know that these babies are worth every worrisome moment and most certainly a few months confined to bed. I’m just discouraged. I want to make it stop, I want to that confidence back that this is all going to work the way it should. I keep expecting if I just take this nap or drink this much more water the next time I let the dog out they won't start again. They always do.
I’m grateful to be in this predicament, but that doesn’t make it easy. I was just really glad to see two cute faces peeking out at me today, kicking and growing and preparing to meet the world. Let’s just make it not for another 11 weeks or so, ok Red and Green?

The Beholder

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Wed, 12 May 2010 17:27:00 GMT

I like my cheekbones. They are really prominent and covered in freckles and I like them very muchly.
Deep breath.
Erin challenged herself and us to find our beauty, to be the beholder.
Deep breath.
I am trying.
It has always been easier for me to pick at the image in the mirror than to accept it. If this were a therapy session we would talk about body image issues, and self loathing. This is big, long-standing heavy stuff for me.
Having babies has not helped.
You see, this is who my husband met just three short years ago.

This trim, tan blonde in her 30's who rode horses 20 hours a week and could give most college atheletes a run for their money.
I still thought she wasn't good enough. Or thin enough.
Her jeans are in my closet. Waiting.
I feel like he deserves her.
He thinks this girl is just as beautiful.

He's a crazy person. Also a saint.
But the first girl is who I expect to see when I walk past a mirror and the second girl shocks me every time. It takes my breath away how big she is, sometimes I just have to look away.
I think we all fantasize about being the woman who just gets a cute belly when she is pregnant. For most of us that isn't reality. My legs get thick and heavy, and my arms gain girth. With Joel I got back fat for the first time in my life, this time my breasts are far larger than I ever would have imagined. It is just what my body does to grow a baby.
I eat healthfully. I study nutrition and how the body processes food. I have for years and I let some of my more nuerotic weight controlling habits go trying to be as healthy as possible for my babies. That is probably why I gained more than I expected to with Joel. My midwives were unconcerned, they said it was all normal, and I was healthy and so was my baby. I didn't lose all that weight before getting pregnant with the Peppers and now I have gained the minimum recommended weight for this pregnancy so far.
My legs and arms still got thicker, the back fat came back. This is just what my body does when it grows a baby.
Deep breath.
I still want to look like the first girl again. I want to wear her jeans and I want my husband to have her on his arm. But I am really, really proud of the second girl for accepting that this is necessary for her babies. Even if it is one moment at a time, she is refusing to restrict her weight gain at the expense of her children. That would be easier. That is tempting every single day. But she keeps eating.
Good for her.
She is walking past the mirror and knowing that this shall pass, that this body is a temporary place and a miracle. This body, as much as it doesn't resemble the first girl, is the body that will bring children into this world. The first girl's body doesn't do that.
And this second girl also looks at her cheekbones a lot.
I really like my cheekbones.

Unending

sara_joy1@live.com (Sara Joy) — Tue, 11 May 2010 19:55:00 GMT

How do you describe missing your child?

I know so many of us have tried, I think we all do it justice and we all fail. It’s indescribable.

His little face graces my dual monitor set up and the last few days I just want so desperately to place my hand between his face and the blanket it lays on. I want to run my finger down the slope of his nose, kiss his forehead and cradle his head in my hand. I reach out to touch him and I know it is so silly but I can’t stop my arm from grasping toward him, and I can just almost touch him. I’m so close and he is so clear but I know that is a moment captured eleven months ago, and there is nothing to reach for, nothing to touch, nowhere for my fingers to land.

That feeling you get, when you just want to pick up and hold your baby? So you do? I have that too, a million times a day and when you go do it I don’t. It feels defective, because this isn’t how it is supposed to work, it should feel wrong. It is the most mistaken feeling you can think of and it doesn’t stop. It is my life now, it is all defective and distorted and while I see light and love and peace, there is still something that pulls at the edge of the picture and runs all the colors askew. It is my son, who is here and not here. Nothing is the same and nothing new is right and nothing ever will be – it is simply that we must learn to live in a world that is cockeyed, and so we are cockeyed too.

I suppose that is a little how it feels. Like we are off kilter, forever unbalanced and living in some sort of harmony that way while the rest of the world is balanced. Except none of you can see that, see the raging vacuum in my heart that rips the very ground out from under my feet while I walk because I stand in your world, all square and functioning and balanced.

Except I am not.