It's About Perspective

Perspective: A particular attitude toward, or way of regarding, something; a point of view

I have been seeing a lot of negative things on social lately. Have you? It's a weird time. We have this COVID-19 thing going on and it seems like everyone has lost their mind. Well, let's get real honest with one another - social is a place where the crazies like to play, sometimes, so perhaps we should have expected some of the things we are seeing.

It can be so difficult to stay motivated and positive when all you seem to be reading is negative (or false) information. There comes a time where even the conspiracies begin to bleed into your train of thought, despite your best intentions, and you start to say, "Wait a minute...could that be true?".

It's probably not true, by the way.

But hopefully you get what I'm saying here - times are tough and depending on where you mind is going during all of this is going to determine just how tough your battle is.

That is where perspective comes in. At the beginning of this entry, you saw me provide a definition of what perspective means. When reading the definition, it is important to note that YOUR perspective is YOUR'S. It is totally owned and controlled by Y.O.U.  So what has your perspective looked like lately?

An individual's perspective is influenced by two things: (1) their past (2) what is happening around them. Your perspective will either make you a warrior or a worrier. Which one are you right now? Can you change this? You absolutely can! The truth is, you need to start being very intentional about developing a healthy perspective for some of the chaos in your life because the wrong perspective can completely ruin a beautiful thing.

Have you ever been in a relationship with someone who has been cheated on and the other person discovered it by reading the other person's text messages? What did that look like for you when you got into a relationship with that person and you would receive a text? That person's perspective (because of what they had been through) was that a text=deceit. That was their perspective. Their individual and owned thought. It didn't mean it was fact. Hell, you could have received a text from your mother! If that behavior continued, what typically happens? One of the individuals leave the relationship. Either the unknown is too much for them to take on, or the constant accusing is too much for the other person to handle. What could have been a beautiful thing is now ruined based on perspective.

So, how can we control our perspective? It's not only easy, but you can start by focusing on two things: (1) Attitude, (2) Effort.

Now, you might be reading this and saying to yourself, "She doesn't know what I'm going through." - maybe not, but I have been through some serious shit storms in my life. Don't believe me? Go read every post in Our Nicu Journey and tell me I'm wrong. How did I get through that? Perspective. I changed my attitude from this is happening TO me to this is happening FOR US! I plan on using our situation to help so many other mothers and families going through similar things. What was made to turn me to ashes, has actually made me RISE UP and begin to really focus on what I feel is my life's purpose.

Perspective is all about YOU leading YOURSELF. How can you change your perspective right now? Well, you can begin to realize that fear is actually a privilege. Huh? What? Yes, fear is a privilege. How so? FEAR = False Expectations Appearing Real. Do you know that there are actually people living in your scariest moment right now? People are actually living your anxiety. The fact that you have anxiety or fear surrounding some made up circumstance is a privilege - you're lucky you're not REALLY going through it! Now, as someone who suffers from anxiety and is on medication to control said anxiety, I would never say that anxiety is a privilege - it sucks! I have found, though, when my anxiety starts to creep up and I tell myself this is a fear and not real, it begins to change my....Perspective. A change in perspective helps to reduce my anxiety. See how that works?  It takes some practice, but once you get the hang of it you start doing it automatically.

That is one of the ways I get through our current situation (the other way being God). I had to go in with the perspective of: How can I create something beautiful? I remember being wheeled out of my hospital room the one night on the way to drop off some milk. Things looked very grim for the girls. I  saw my lactation consultant in the hallway and he, being a former NICU nurse himself, stopped to talk with me about the girls. I said to him, "I'm already thinking of how I can turn this around - turn this into something to where the girls will NOT be forgotten, but be remembered. How can I help other people?" My mindset immediately shifted to focusing on good, despite the worst of the worse staring at me in the eyes. Could you imagine if I didn't go that route? Here's the thing: even though I was going that route, I still felt horrible. There was a point where I said to my husband, "Now I understand why people commit suicide. This pain is so great and exhausting and the only thing I get to do is live it over and over and over". And you guys- I wasn't even contemplating suicide!! I just had a moment of "Wow. If this is how I feel and I'm still not to that point, how awful must those people feel to do what they do". But could you even imagine if I had focused on the bad? Could you even imagine what could have happened if I allowed myself to downward spiral instead of changing my perspective? I might not be here. Truthfully.

This is why perspective is So.Damn.Important. You guys - chaos has the ability to eat you alive if you allow it. Rise up. Get better. Change your mindset.

Is there something going on right now where you need a shift in mindset? Drop a comment below! Let's discuss.

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And Now We Bring You - Mixed Feelings

Last night was a great night. I got to hold both of my babies and just enjoy. I missed them the last few days as I opted to stay home in case my allergies were something more.

When I hold them, or just watch them, all of this anxiety no longer exists. I am truly at the most peaceful place I have ever been, possibly in my entire life. This wave of warmth just overcomes my entire body and I am still. I have never been able to sit still and "quiet my mind" through meditation, but in those moments with my girls - I am. Their snuggles are the needed break that I need.

I am so grateful to God for making me their mommy - even if our journey has been very untraditional and full of ups and downs. They were meant for us, and us them. I am grateful to have gotten to watch them develop, open their eyes for the first time, grow fingernails, see their first sneezes (so cute), hear them cry - all of it. It's all truly a miracle.

God always knows what we need most in our life. I have said this before, I was a workaholic and constant busy-body before the girls came to be with me. It wasn't until I got pregnant and found out that it was twins that I began to slow down. My mind shift started to change from work being so important to my family being more important (which is where it should be anyway, but in this day and age it is so easy to get caught up elsewhere). Now that they are here, I feel that my priorities in life are finally where they should be. It is as if all of the pieces suddenly clicked together and formed this picture of peace...sort of.

This entire journey has been like doing a 5,000 piece Thomas Kinkade puzzle, with all of its colors and blending. I started with the frame (because starting anywhere else on a puzzle is insanity, and don't tell me I'm wrong). The frame was, and is: my girls were born extremely premature. The puzzle continues to be built, piece by piece, but when something is figured out it feels like when you finally have two chunks that you have been working on, fit together. You have that moment of "ah ha!" and suddenly, the 5,000 individual pieces start to look more manageable - but it's going to take time and no doubt there will be more frustration as you attempt to put together this photo with 50,000 shades of blue that somehow - someway - will eventually come together to form a creek, or a pond.

Right now I find myself at that time in the process where you are just sort of staring, thinking to yourself how much more productive it would have been to do some laundry instead of this damn puzzle - and you start to lose sight of how far you have come with your progress. Maybe that's not entirely true - the progress is definitely front and center in my mind, but as we near more towards the month of April I find myself getting sad.

When I first found out I was pregnant, my 40 week due date was April 25th. When we found out it was twins, my doctor said anytime between April 1st - 11th would be ideal for labor as that would be 36.5 - 38 weeks gestation (full term for twins). The latest he was going to let me go was April 11th - so April 11th has always been what I considered my "due date". I always imagined I would go early...definitely not as early as I did!...but I anticipated a late March baby. I remember people joking about a St. Patty's baby and I would say, "No, that's still too early" -- that response is so laughable now. Whew! If I only knew...

So today, St Patty's Day, has me starting to feel some kind of way. As I looked at my girls last night, one who is 4 lbs and one who is very close to hitting that milestone, I thought of a few things. First and foremost - how perfect and beautiful are they?? I mean seriously - I'm sure anyone who has ever looked at a newborn has thought the same thing. The perfection, the innocence, the ignorance to the evil of the world... the perfection of the creation. It's amazing, truly amazing. Then I thought, "Wow you're big - where was I expected to carry both of you at this size?" When I look at me, and I look at the two of them, I stand firm that I wouldn't have made it full term lol. I just don't know where they would have gone! But then the thoughts change - what if I had held them in this long? What if my body didn't fail? What if I could have saved them from everything they have already been through - things that while I KNOW are not MY fault, I still feel guilt over because it was my body that failed them. My body that is supposed to have the most natural aspect of its function to be to produce, carry and feed a child. And because my body decided to quit, for reasons we still and probably never will know, my beautiful children have had to endure so much - and there will be more. Any time they have gone through anything, it has felt like it has been my fault. The mom guilt is so real, and so fierce.

I know God's go this. I know we are blessed. I am SO grateful for everything to date - but the brain is just creeping right now and wondering how things would have been different - if only my body could have done what it was supposed to do. What would life look like if I had held them to term? What is life like when your child does not have bilateral grade 4 brain bleeds and you don't have to worry about a shunt? What does life look like with babies whose lungs are fully formed and operational, organs that just function the way that they are supposed to without the help of steroids, and a life that never involves living in a little plastic house? Life without tubes and leads and monitors - that seems crazy! After going through everything, the thought of a life like that is almost fairytale like - so if you had that, or are currently pregnant, be grateful because I can tell you - a boring pregnancy with a standard delivery at term and a healthy baby seems like the equivalent to winning the Powerball for us mamas who have had premature babies. I can't even imagine in what that would be like (the Powerball win and the full term pregnancy/delivery lol). Hey -- I might not get that full term delivery, but I won't lose hope on the Powerball - cheers to that!

So that's sort of where I am at right now, and what I am currently working through. This entire process has been such..well..a process. I don't think it ever won't be, if I'm being truly honest. Life is currently this beautiful, confusing, trying, strengthening, frustrating, faith-filled puzzle of a journey that I know - eventually - is going to be the most beautiful picture I could ever imagine. So, for now, I will continue to just build it, piece by piece - day by day.

My Struggle Prepared Me for COVID-19

I know - you're sick of hearing about it. You're sick of seeing memes about it. Your grocery shelves are empty. You are wondering, "What is with the toilet paper??"

Me too.

But here we are, folks. In this absolute circus that is surrounding the COVID-19 virus. As I write this, my seasonal allergies are kicking up. Post nasal drip, lump in my throat (but not a sore throat), producing cough - happens every year. Every.Damn.Year. If the tree in my backyard is beginning to bloom, I can count on these things occurring  - but here I am second guessing everything now. Pair that with the anxiety that has already plagued me for the last 3 months or so and now my mind spirals out of control for a hot minute and it goes from "allergies" to "Great, now I'm dying". Ei yi yi.

I never thought on December 31, 2019 that I would begin my journey into COVID-19 prep. I actually think that may have been the day the media frenzy kicked off surrounding the issue in China (ironic). The following weeks and months were met with a great deal of uncertainty, fear, anxiety, a need for patience, a need to relinquish control, a desire TO control, isolation, and a ton of hand washing. Who knew that my severe premature labor would prepare me for that shit that was going to hit the fan two months later! Who knew...

While the world scrambles to protect themselves from a dirty behind, I am sort of just drifting through it all. Did I buy some toilet paper? Yes - because I was out. Did I buy some cleaners? Yes. Did I buy bleach? Yes. Did I buy canned goods? Yes. The funny thing is, my lack of panic caused me to believe that I was actually UNDER prepared - which drove me to the store to pick up some essentials. But I assure you, that does not involve large quantities of toilet paper. I found it interesting as people wheeled carts and carts of toilet paper out of these stores - but no food. No canned goods. Apparently society cares more about their asses than their nutritional well being while being quarantined. I don't understand it.

Back to the point - I think a lot of you may be feeling the way that I have felt the last couple of months, but obviously for a different reason. So I want to share with you some ways that I think might help you work through those nagging feelings, because they will probably be around for a bit. If I have learned anything through this it is that the only way to get out of a feeling is to work through the feeling. Working against it only causes more angst.

1. Uncertainty & Fear: Similar to the journey with my girls, there are two things you can lean on during your battle with uncertainty: God and Science (weird seeing those two together, huh?) God always has us in the palm of His hand and while many situations don't seem fair, He uses them all for good. Science is also working around the clock to come up with vaccines. How often do you have the ENTIRE WORLD searching, with such determination, to figure something like this out? The response to COVID-19 is pretty much as good as it's going to get, because it's affecting everyone. We might not have it figured out tomorrow, but it will get figured out. Use this time to develop a new, healthy routine. Maybe each morning you wake up and give thanks for your health, you eat a healthy breakfast, you take a walk outside, and then come home and read something positive. The best way through fear is through positivity. Change your thinking and change your actions towards something that is more positive and productive than worrying.

2. Patience: This goes with what I just said - it will get figured out. Your anxiety, your panic, your 500 rolls of toilet paper are not going to get it figured out sooner. Additionally, lack of patience and the anxiety that comes with it causes you to lose patience - patience with your kids, patience with your family, patience with the poor old woman at Aldi's. In a time where everyone feels similar, choose to be kind. Again, this will be figured out. While you are stuck not knowing and not being able to do anything about it, control your controllable. Wash your hands. Eat healthy foods. Enjoy some time outside. STAY AWAY FROM SOCIAL MEDIA. Limit your time feeding into the news. Get the info you need, and then get away.

3. Isolation: I have seen a lot of parents freaking out because the kids will be home for a while. I have mixed feelings on this as someone who is currently separated from her children - but to each their own. I'll leave my thoughts here: be grateful. Please. Be grateful for healthy children. Be grateful that they are in your home. Be grateful that during something that is so scary that your family is together, rather than separated. At least you can take comfort that you are all together - for us families that don't have that luxury, there is a level of intense pain on top of the fear/anxiety/panic/etc. This is a great time to do things like bake, go on a nature hike, look at the stars, spring clean, pick out things to donate. Utilize this time to get your sh*t in order. I know, this is hard with work and lost wages and everything else. I am not discounting that - but what are you going to do about it? What can you do about it right now? Not much, so choose to do something else. Make some memories. Have the kids start a journal, come up with a new game night. Who knows, this entire situation may draw you and your family closer than you ever have been. Wouldn't you prefer dinnertime conversation over silence and everyone staring at a phone? I would.

4. Illness: So, what if you're like me and you freak out, "Is it COVID-19? A cold? The flu? Allergies?" Here's the thing - all of those, except one, are pretty much handled in a similar fashion: Stay home. Hydrate - overly hydrate. The more water the better. Take your vitamins. Eat some yogurt for the probiotics to assist with gut health (unless you have a nasally issue or cough - if so, avoid dairy as it promotes more mucus), take a nap. If there is one thing that can easily weaken your immune system, it is stress. So as hard as it might be, you have to relax. Get lost in a good Netflix series, or start to read that book you've been meaning to pick up. A spin on Frankie Goes to Hollywood's "Relax": Relax. Don't do it. Let your body work through it.

Everyone has gone nuts - it is what it is, but continuing on this route is only going to exhaust us all and cause way more harm than good. Let's all just try to work through this issue in a positive and productive way. This is temporary.

Becoming "Mommy"

Oh my, where do I begin with this one...

The thought of "becoming a Mommy" usually involves a typical pregnancy with a baby shower in there, a routine, full-term delivery, and holding your sweet little bundle as you rest in your hospital bed surrounded by balloons, flowers, family, and friends. It's a very soft and cuddly thought. In that moment, you are meeting and "being Mommy" to this little baby that you have only ever felt inside of you. This is who was doing all the kicking. It was this little boy/girl who wedged themselves under your rib cage. This is the peanut that used your bladder as their personal trampoline. This is them.

It's a very different story when things go very opposite of the above, I'll tell you that. But...something I have grown to appreciate is the growing together that I am doing with my girls.

Usually, mothers don't get to see the little fingernails and toenails of their babies forming. You read about it in "What to Expect when You're Expecting" so you assume it's happening inside of you, but you don't actually get to see it. I have gotten to see it. I have gotten to see little fingers and little hands with just small indents where a nail would be, actually grow into this teeniest tiniest little nail. I routinely will hold one of my daughters' fingers or feet and just marvel at the sight. How incredible!

Usually mothers don't get to see their child's overall body composition change. I have gotten to watch my children's skin go from red and tissue paper thin (that is not an exaggeration), to thicker and a beautiful peachy pink - just like my own. When babies are really tiny and don't have any body fat yet, they develop this coating of hair on their body called lanugo. I have watched the lanugo disappear (except for a few spots like on their shoulders where they are a little fuzzy - and I love it).

Is that heartburn? Rumor has it, your child has a head full of hair! Well, I have seen my girls' hair grow - eyebrows, eyelashes, hair on their head. I have seen it grow, I have seen it change, I have wondered where the hell blonde eyebrows came from multiple times.

And yes, I have seen the scariest of things too. I have seen kidneys fail, electrolytes rise, sodium get wonky. I have seen blood transfusions, a ton of machines, and have heard a lot of uncertainties.

I still would not wish this early of a delivery or the pain that I sometimes experience, on my worst enemy; however, I think it is important - and truly sometimes the only means of survival - to find the silver lining in what you are going through. To give it some sort of positive meaning.

I am watching God's miracle of life before my eyes. I have FELT God's presence in that room and by my side so many times. As someone who has always considered herself a Christian, but never been very "preachy" I now consider myself "all in". I know that I am on this journey with God by my side. I know our mountain is STEEP (whew! it's steep!) and I know this cross is HEAVY (whew! it's heavy!) but I continue to carry it up that mountain every day - while stopping to smell the roses along the way.  Why not? God never said we couldn't enjoy portions of a tough journey. He never said that when the going gets tough, we must be depressed.

Sometimes, I think some of the staff at the hospital look at my husband and I and wonder if we take this seriously. We routinely go in with a positive attitude, we laugh with our nurses who have become family, we joke with our respiratory staff. But then - what else are you supposed to do? Am I supposed to look beat down and broken and just sit on the couch (been there! done that!). Am I supposed to walk around with fear in my eyes the entire time I am there, not speaking to everyone as if I am ashamed of my situation? I hope not, because if that's how I'm supposed to be acting then I am really breaking the rules.

In these situations, I think God wants us to create our joy as we rejoice in His ways. Our creation of our joy could be seen as the comfort of His peace and His assistance. I have personalized my girls NICU nursery - it helps us and visitors feel more at ease and welcome in the room. I don't want the NICU to be a scary medical place - I want it to be a temporary little cove full of love and caring. I love to laugh, so finding things to laugh at with my nurses really helps me in the situation. Last night Bria brought her knees into her chest, diaperless (I'm sure you see where this is going) and literally machine gunned poop out of her hind parts. Shocking? Yes. Laughable? After a minute or two, haha. Sometimes laughter is the best medicine. Additionally, I choose to demonstrate God's peace and His work in my life currently by getting to personally know others and forming connections. I love that we can sit down and talk to our one doctor about ROP and future surgery, and five minutes later be discussing cooking and wine and hearing about his children and grandchildren. It's an added layer of comfort. It makes me, as a NICU mom who can't do much, feel surrounded by "family".

That took me off track - let's reel it back in. I have become "Mommy" in a very unconventional way. I still have not held either of my girls. There has been no skin-to-skin/kangaroo care. The only time I touch them is through a porthole in their isolette, or when I lift them for their weights. That's it. There has been no rocking, no holding them swaddled, nothing. That's hard for a mother! Super hard, in fact, and if I'm being honest the pain with that one is getting worse the longer we go one BUT! I choose to focus on the witness of God's miracles that I have already listed above. I choose to say, "Yes" if a nurse asks me to do something. I choose to run toward the poopey diaper rather than shy away even though changing a diaper through a porthole on a preemie is one of the most difficult things I have had to figure out in my life. It's a lifeskill that deserves a medal if you can do it.  I might not be washing my babies clothes (because they don't wear any), but I pick up after cares and put their soiled linens in the soiled linen bin....the trash in the trash bin, etc. The nurses always tell me I don't have to do it - but I like to do it. It makes me feel like I'm taking care of my girls and their space. I pick out their sheets from the closet and find them little blankies....and when those blankies get pulled out to be washed I will go through the cabinet day after day until I find that very same blankie for them again (there is one such dragon blanket that is "Bria's" that I am constantly on the hunt for).

One area that I am particularly proud of myself in, besides the diaper changing, is becoming an active part of their care team. Up until about a week ago, I didn't want to know. Seriously. The anxiety was so awful that I would make Ray call in for updates as I waited, insides all twisted ready to throw up, to hear about what the day had been bringing our girls. Now, I'm the one calling in. I call in when I wake up to see how their night went. I talk with my nurses about things I want brought up in rounds, care that I think may be needed, changes that I feel might need to be made. I call in again around lunch to see what the Drs. may be changing that day. At night, I record it all. Weights, meds, dosages, oxygen, vent settings, activity, behavior, O2 - that way, I can review it and get ready to be part of the care team again the following day.

I'm also proud of myself for learning my girls. Learning their quirks, their behaviors - what is normal, what is not, their coloring, etc. The other night Valerie seemed off. I told her nurse (this was the first time the nurse was having Valerie) and she didn't seem to think it was a big deal. Not that she didn't care! She was a fantastic nurse, I really loved her, but since it was her first time with Val she didn't know what was or was not normal. That's where being their advocate as a parent comes in. I kept saying, "Her color is off" "Her heart rate is off" "Her demeanor is off...something isn't right". On the way home, I was talking with my husband and I said, "I think she needs blood. I think she's Anemic but they said this morning's counts looked good.."  Last night we came in to an elevated heart rate, the same pale Valerie, but her demeanor was good - she didn't looked stressed or anything. They said they were running a blood count and waiting for it to come back and I looked at my husband and said, "I knew it. I knew something wasn't right." Don't you know it came back as Anemia? I am definitely not saying I'm a know-it-all, but I know my girls. And they "twin" a lot, so this morning I let Bria's nurse know what Valerie was showing yesterday and what to look out for because most likely, Bria will do the same.

This is definitely not how I envisioned "becoming Mommy" to be. I pictured sleepless nights (which I still have), exhaustion (which I still have), crying babies at home, family over to help us with the babies so I could run to the grocery store - that sort of thing. I never imagined making close connections, witnessing miracles in front of my face, learning more about prenatal medical care than I ever cared to learn and actually UTILIZING that knowledge to assist in the decisions surrounding their care, or changing a diaper through a porthole. I wish I could say, "...but I wouldn't give it up for the world". Trust me, a full term pregnancy with zero complications and two healthy babes would have been ideal but this journey is a journey that my family is all taking together with the girls. It has brought all of us closer, it has strengthened/renewed our faith, and has allowed us to grow in our own way as our little girls grow in their's. It's a journey that while difficult, will forever change us and make us stronger.

You're Not Alone

Hello, friends. I know I haven't updated in a while. Honestly, I have typed up what has been going on and had to delete it, multiple times, because the weight of the events is too much. That's essentially why there hasn't been an update - I have been too depressed to post one.  I want to be committed to looking forward, rather than focusing on what has already happened and reliving the fear and anxiety that was associated with it, so if you don't mind, I'm just going to skip over the last 19 days and pray that better days are ahead of us.

Have you ever been in a situation where you see someone else going through something and you get transformed back in time to when you went through that very situation? All of sudden, your emotions grab hold of you and you are no longer in the present, you're back in that moment - experiencing every sight, sound, sometimes even smell. It is amazing how our brain works in order to preserve memories on such detailed levels.

While leaving the NICU the other night, I experienced such phenomenon not once, but twice, and with two separate women. Both of these women just had their children that day, both of them were obviously new tenants of the NICU, but each of them made me experience very different emotions.

The first woman I came across while walking out of our room. She came around the corner, her husband pushing her in her wheelchair and she was already changed into her personal "comfy clothes". As they walked up towards the administration desk, the husband said to the attendant, "She just pumped some milk and we wanted to see if we could drop it off with our nurses?" The woman got a smile on her face, while her eyes remained exhausted, and held up a small plastic canister of milk. The milk was golden in color  - it was the good stuff - the Colostrum. This milk carried amazing antibodies that could help her child with whatever ailment he/she had been facing.

I remembered that sense of exhaustion and pride. On one hand, you just delivered a child that did not go according to your plans. The baby was not by your bedside, you may have not gotten to see or hold the baby prior to them being brought down to the NICU and honestly - you are just exhausted. You wonder, "What can I do? How can I help my child?" and there isn't much you can do in that situation - except pump. I was never planning on breastfeeding my twins until I was told that my milk could help to save their life. At that point, I became pumping fool. Every three hours I would pump and pray something would come out. I remember those first couple of drops sliding down the side of the cylinder and me yelling for my nurse, "Dezeray! Look! Look! I'm doing it!!" You would have thought I was pumping ACTUAL gold with the excitement. There was a little party by my bedside in that moment. It was one of the few celebrations that took place during a time that should be full of celebration surrounding new life. I can remember being wheeled down to the NICU, unfamiliar with just how much freedom you had as parents to come and visit your child. I can remember every time Ray asked how we can give the milk to the nurses I would hold it up with pride and smile, my eyes telling a different story as they were so swollen from the non-stop tears. Every day of my stay in the hospital, I would pump. Every time I got something, I would get wheeled down and hold the milk up victoriously as I came into the room. This was it - this was the one thing that I could do, and it was actually working. That's pretty amazing at 23 weeks - usually mothers have some trouble with milk production when giving birth that prematurely.

I wanted to high five that mom and tell her that she was capable of amazing things. I wanted to tell her that I knew exactly how she was feeling. I wanted to tell her that even when the going gets tough with that damn pump, to keep going - give it a name, glue on some googley eyes, make pumping a time where you watched your favorite show...anything to make it less cumbersome. I wanted to tell her that even though she felt so helpless in that moment, that her efforts to pump and produce were beyond measure.

The second woman I saw while walking down the long NICU corridor back towards the elevators. She looked very different than the first woman. Her husband wheeled her slowly down the hall, still in her hospital gown and the ugly, oversized socks with the rubber grips on the sole. She rested her head in one hand as her elbow propped up on the arm of the wheelchair. Her gaze remained at the floor, never looking up towards the doors. Her husband remained stoic with the same expression.

I remembered that sense of let down, exhaustion, fear, agony, confusion, and self-loathing. I remember casting my eyes at the floor because I was so afraid that someone would see just how swollen my face had been from all of the crying (I don't cry pretty). I remember the feeling that you were worthless because your body gave up. The feeling of guilt because you couldn't protect your children from coming into the world too soon and the the fact that now they were not in your arms, but in a very medical environment full of machines to keep them alive. I knew how she felt. I knew the feeling of helplessness as you hand your baby over to a stranger to be cared for and kept alive -- a stranger you don't get to interview, get to know, or have any sort of history with. It's defeating beyond measure.

I re-lived EVERYTHING in that moment and I wanted to give that mom a hug - saying nothing other than, "I understand."  There aren't words that you can really speak to a mother when she feels like that. Often times "I know this is really hard" is what people say - but if I could request one thing - please don't say that if you don't know. I will tell you, there is no pain like this pain and unless you do know what it's like, don't say "I know this is really hard". A better choice might be, "I can tell this is a very difficult time for you".  Something else I can tell you: none of us want you to know these feelings, either. I have said that I wouldn't wish this on the worst person walking the earth. It is dark, scary, and very lonely to go through because you essentially lose who you were before. It's not just the event - it's how the event changes you, and for a while you don't know who the hell you are anymore. You are fighting to live "your life" while you are no longer "you"and it all can feel extremely foreign.

The one thing I have learned and will talk about all of my days it the fact that, regardless of where I have found myself in this journey - happy, sad, fearful, etc - God has been at my side and guiding my steps. Some days, He holds my hands as I make one tiptoe forward. Other days, He inspires me to take a leap and creates situations that make it easier for me to do that. Our God is a faithful God. Many times in the past couple of weeks I have been physically stopped in my tracks because of something that was happening and was out of my control. Literally, I don't move, I can't think, I feel like my soul has left my body and then there has been a soft whisper, "Be still and know that I am God". I'm not making this up. I have sent texts in the midst of chaos that have said, "I just got this wave of warm peace come over me." I know He is with us through this journey, and I know He is walking with those other women through their's. That's not to say that it solves all of the problems or washes away all of the tears, but knowing that you aren't alone and are accompanied by the mightiest of all, the maker of miracles, can be very comforting.

They say God lives in the NICU - I don't doubt it for a second.

31 Days Later

The date is January 174th.

It is cold. It is grey. I just turned up the thermostat. I long for a nap.

One month ago today my life changed forever. Realistically speaking, your life routinely "changes forever" based on the choices you make and the paths you go down. Even seemingly meaningless things you do on a daily basis "change your life forever"; however, having twins at 23 weeks and 3 days come rip roaring into the world suddenly via emergency C-section....that's definitely a life changer. To have your pregnancy status go from "currently pregnant" to "no longer pregnant" in the span of..mmm...25 minutes, if you include operational prep...that's a life changer.  To wake up from your surgery in recovery without the feeling of your two little sidekicks inside of you, rolling around and instead feeling an emptiness and your pregnant belly basically gone - well, damn. That's walking through the front door of a whole new world.

Thirty-one days ago I was lost, terrified, confused, in denial, angry, hating myself, did I say confused? Did I say in denial? It was a tough day emotionally. Thirty-one days ago, I saw my two girls for the first time - their skin bright red and so fragile. Their little bodies so tiny and looking almost deflated because they didn't have any body fat on them yet. I didn't know if that would be how I would remember my girls, in that state, or not.

The doctors essentially told me to prepare for the worst. Memory boxes. Funeral arrangements. Emergency baptisms. Thirty-one days ago, I was unsure how I would come out of this. Thirty-one days ago, it was the darkest place I have ever had to sit with in my heart and my mind. Thirty-one days ago, I understood the pain that could lead someone to suicide (though I swear to everyone, while I understood HOW, it was never a question of IF I would go that route. That was never a route I considered).

Thirty-one days later, the picture is very different (all thanks to God, no doubt).

Thirty-one days later I am hopeful, closer to God than I have ever been, filled with love and support, filled with a mother's love and tenacity to care for her children, more knowledgable about the NICU that seemed so foreign to me just a short time ago.

Thirty-one days later, I have a support system of many moms who have gone through he same thing, the support of my family, as well as the support of my friends who have no idea what it is like to be a parent of a NICU baby.

Thirty-one days later, I know I can make it through the tough days - even if they physically put me down while they are happening.

Thirty-one days later, I have confidence in myself and my abilities.

Thirty-one days later, "I can't" is a phrase I am working on completely removing from my vocabulary because my girls were told they couldn't do many things, and they instead said, "Yes we can".

Thirty-one days later, I have been taught some of the most valuable, life changing lessons I could have ever been taught.

Thirty-one days later, things are not easy. Thirty-one days does not signal being, "out of the woods". Thirty-one days will never take away the fear, the what if's, or the anxiety that surrounds each new day because you are not sure what that day is going to bring for your girls. Thirty-one days later, all of those things still very much exist.  But I am grateful to be here, to be with them, 31 days later <3

Overwhelmed by Love & Support

Who even knew this was a thing?

I have been overwhelmed by a lot in my life, but love and support is not one of them. That's not to say I haven't been loved or supported - but never at such a personally demanding level. What you need to understand is, I am a people pleaser. Additionally, I was raised to write out thank you cards, provide prompt gratitude, etc. and honestly - I feel like such a failure with that right now.

I wrote out thank you cards two weeks ago. I just haven't put on addresses and mailed them yet. So if you have dropped something off, or sent me something - I promise I am not ungrateful - I am just overwhelmed. The thank you card is coming - eventually. If you have mailed me cards, I have received them and read them. I appreciate them so much - I just haven't sent out messages yet. I am sorry.

Originally, it was just the chaos surrounding the girls that felt a little unraveling, but as time progresses, it seems like even more is unraveling and that is my own doing. I KNOW I need to stop. I KNOW I need to take care of myself and my babies first -- but how do you do that when the world is being so damn good to you? How do you not feel a sense of urgency to let others know that you love and appreciate their love and support? How do you just go on without thanking people for their prayers - the prayers that continue to save your daughters?  I can't do it. I can't just put myself first when it comes to receiving so many blessings.

People want to come over, want to go to lunch, want to meet up, want to drop something off. "How are the babies?" "When are they coming home?" "What does that mean?" "How are you doing?" "How are you feeling?" "How are you handling everything?"  "Let's get dinner!" "What about the weekend?" And as the person on the receiving end you appreciate every question, every text, every call and you don't want them to stop but you begin to feel weighed down by the pressure to answer it all. To be it all. To manage it all.

It's very hard.

And again, then there's the guilt. All these blessings and you're going to say you're overwhelmed? What kind of person are you? Do you want the blessings or do you not? We personally want them - how to manage them is where we are stuck.

Then I start to think about managing life in general with everything. I'm going back to work soon and just today I was trying to figure out how in the heck I am going to keep up with my pumping schedule and milk supply while in the office? Not being able to keep up is going to stress me out, which is going to diminish my supply. Not to mention, then it becomes - wake up, get to work, pump on the car ride there so you can get to work at a reasonable hour so you can leave at a reasonable hour to see your girls, pump again every 3 hours thereafter, don't forget to eat lunch!, make this meeting, make that meeting, drive home - pump on the way home, get in another car and head to the hospital. Be an awesome mom, maybe find time to eat something but maybe not because by the time you get home from the hospital at 10PM- you need to go to sleep in order to do it all again tomorrow (and pump again in 3 hours). Oh yeah - don't forget to shower somewhere in there.

Are you exhausted by all of that? Because this girl is. I literally do not know what to do with that but I know that is unsustainable. On top of everything else going on? There's no way. But what do I do? How do I manage all THAT...and everything else I've written about?  Sometimes I just want to go to sleep - but I can't because the anxiety surrounding all of this (dramatically motions with her arms) just runs through my brain -- until I take my medicine at night that puts me to sleep...to be woken up...in 3 hours...to pump again, lol.

I am exhausted by my blessings. I don't know what to do! And that just exhausts me further!

In the NICU, when Valerie and Bria receive care, sometimes they get very upset. Their little faces get red, the silent cry, they splay their fingers and kick their legs. There is no denying that they are upset. They begin to de-sat as their O2 drops and then a nurse turns up their oxygen a smidge and they start to self soothe and recover. I wish I had an oxygen knob that could be turned up a little right now.

Sorry - just having a moment.

That said - I do appreciate each and every one of you. Every text, every call, every message, every like, every comment, every gift, every card, every everything. It is all appreciated. And the prayers - oh my goodness the prayers! I appreciate those the most :)  Please keep it all coming, but please just know that it might take me a little while to respond the way I would like to. It's not personal - it's just part of the journey to find some balance <3

God is Good

I ran through a bunch of titles for this post, but I couldn't put into words what I have been feeling over the last 14 hours or so. The only thing I can say is, "God is good."

Last night, without warning, I had the opportunity to hold one of my daughters for the very first time. I was actually saying goodnight to her, as we were getting ready to leave the NICU for the day and for some reason, I lingered as her care was going on. The girls get their foot pricked each night to check their blood gasses - some parents don't like watching it because it causes their baby pain. While I don't enjoy watching it, I generally just divert my eyes for a minute and let the nurses do what they need to do. This time, I forgot to do that and I saw Bria's face turn red and her silent cry start with such force I didn't know any other action but to comfort her. I ran across the room, scrubbed my hands up to my elbows with the medical-grade soap (that sucks the life out of your skin) and then, because I am a true germaphobe, applied medical grade sanitizer all over the same area. I opened up the sides of her isolette and immediately began contained touch and talking to her. She stopped crying - she stopped crying! I did it! Victory is mine! For these 2 minutes, anyway! I just continued to comfort her during her care and her O2 levels stabilized and she became "happy" as we call it in the NICU. "Happy" means that her O2 levels are stable and in may cases, the oxygen requirement can be turned down because the baby is calm and content. All of a sudden the nurse says, "Okay, you're going to help me lift her so I can change her bedding."

I'm sorry, ma'am - what?? Me? Lift her? Shouldn't another nurse do this? I'm not qualified. Surely you're talking to the other nurse across the room.

All of these thoughts darted across my brain, but my mouth said, "Okay - what do I do?"

"What do I do?!? What do I do!!! Woman! This is madness!!!" my inner thoughts screamed.

I cradled her head and her bum and splayed my fingers out wide to make sure that every little part of her body was supported, and slowly I raised her up. I was holding my baby. "This is your baby" the nurse said. I just nodded. I didn't have words. She asked, "Do you feel like a mom?" and I just sputtered out "Yes! Yes!"...for the first time, yes, I felt like a mom.  Bria looked at me, and I looked at her. Her body was so light, and her skin was incredibly soft -- and she was incredibly calm. I assure you, Bria Bear has been a little hellion the past few days wiggling around all over the place - they actually swaddled her to limit her movement lol - but in this moment - both of us were calm. It was like both of our souls linked up, one asking another, "You okay?" "Yeah...I'm okay....are you okay?" "Yeah..I'm okay, too." I wish I could better put into words the event so that I could record the moment in time perfectly, but I can't. There are so few words to describe what that was like. It was incredible.

And I can't forget Valerie in all of this. Currently, Miss Valerie is fighting off an infection, so we are staying out of her isolette by personal choice while she does that. She had a few very scary days.Her urine output stopped, they couldn't get a blood pressure read on her because the pressure was so low, and her heart rate shot up. No one knew what was happening and the words, "in my 15 years here I have never not been able to get a blood pressure read" were said by a doctor. You want to have a moment of panic as a mother? Have your kid be "the first" to demonstrate an issue. Valerie was provided a blood transfusion and slowly but surely, things evened out - but we still needed to figure out what was wrong. I talked to my husband and said, "This sounds like a UTI or kidney infection to me that lingered too long."  Low urine output, some blood in the urine, dark urine - UTI and dehydration. And if the infection was truly there, that would explain her little body's response. X-rays were taken, everything looked physically good.

Last night we were told the blood culture came back for an infection in the bloodstream. After speaking with one of the doctors, he said, "We are going to get a urine culture - we think this may have started as a UTI."  Mother knows best....

Thankfully, Valerie has been on antibiotics for 72 hours already - so proper treatment began before the real issue was discovered. As we spoke to the doctor, he commented on how sudden Valerie took the turn and how concerned he was. He then said, "She is amazing. Most babies, even much older than her, would not have fought this the way she did and be where she is right now."  That's why we call Valerie our Warrior Princess. Man, can that little girl fight. She truly amazes me every day and gets me thinking about how weak I have been in the past! I used to say I couldn't run a 5K! 3.1 miles - "I can't do it"...meanwhile, while my 4 week old child who technically should not even be in the world yet is out here going through test after test, fighting infections, and doing all kinds of crazy stuff. Valerie has taught me that "I can't" is no longer something that should be in my vocabulary. Yet again, God is good. Yes, Valerie is a little fighter - but she is a fighter with Jesus beside her, helping her, healing her, and making her strong.

I know our journey is so far from over, and I know that big bumps await us. I know days are going to be long and many of them very hard - but days like last night, help you to power though those tough ones. And the tough ones make the sweet ones that much sweeter.

"The Chamber of Secrets"

26 Weeks 6 Days

What would my blog be without a Harry Potter reference?

Motherhood is hard. Many mothers will speak to this from a physical standpoint: running the kids to their activities, dealing with school bullies, cleaning up pee all over the bathroom as they attempt to teach their kids to use the potty...but I want to talk to it from the emotional standpoint.

Now, I feel qualified to say what I'm about to say as someone who used to be on "the other side" and thought to myself, "Oh, okay, so you're going to tell me my feelings are wrong now. That's cool."  When you are not a mother, you think that you know what it feels like to be a mother. You might love kids, your nieces and nephews, your students - but motherhood is different. This is NOT to discredit the love you feel for children who are not from your womb - that's a beautiful thing and again, I used to say "I love my nieces and nephews as if they were my own" - but damn was I wrong.

Now, let me make this very, very clear - I love my nieces and nephews to absolute pieces and would go to the end of the earth for any of them to help them. I hope they see me as someone that they can talk to about the hard stuff in life and trust that I'm going to be there to have those conversations and help them get through it. But there is no love, no love, like the love that you feel when you look at your child. Thus, the title "The Chamber of Secrets".

See, when you're not a mother, you don't know what this is. You hear people say, "When it's your kid, it's different" and you still think, "If my kid was throwing that fit in Target, trust and believe things would be different" - they won't be. You will be on an airplane with a crying baby and think, "Can't they do SOMETHING about that baby?" but as the baby's mother do you want to know what you will think? "My child is upset. My heart hurts for my child and I need to try and make this right. I don't care what other people think right now - my child is upset. They are my number one right now - not the opinion of others on this plane. Would I like to make their lives easier? Sure! AFTER I handle my child". Your kids become your number one. Can it be embarrassing "when it's your kid"? Yes, I'm sure it is...but it is also different, just like everyone tells you. "The Chamber" is unique in that it opens up this area of your heart where you feel what your child is feeling. When I see my babies silent cry in their isolate due to a procedure or just because they are babies and babies cry, it breaks my heart. I will pace. I will sit and stare and wonder "What can I do?" and if I attempt to comfort them and it doesn't work - oh man, that's the worst. You feel their pain, you feel your guilt...it's a wild ride. And when your baby looks at you in the eyes, and maybe gives you the hint of smile - full on explosion of love that is indescribable. Even mom-to-mom, I don't think any of us could put into words what that feels like. But yes, "The Chamber" opens up this section of your heart that taps in to your child's heart and mind and as a mother, sometimes that's a lot.

Prior to pregnancy, I was very driven with my job. I wanted to go all the way to the top and every day I put way too much energy into my work. I was a workaholic, through and through. Extra hours? It's fine. Coming in early? Early bird catches the worm. Make a difference? I'm going to do my best. Raise employee morale? I'm going to plan a nice activity for my team...now? Work is....work. It is something I do to earn a living. The love I feel for my girls has overshadowed any source of happiness I was ever chasing and hoping to find through he success of my job. And that may be different for everyone - I'm not saying every single woman will feel the same after having kids or if they choose not to have kids - but as someone who was EXTREMELY driven, that tide changed quickly. Nothing I do at work matters. I don't mean that from an employee morale standpoint but legitimately - nothing I do at work matters in the grand scheme of life. Nothing I accomplish at work will give me true happiness because I just look towards the next thing. Do you want to know when I am truly happy? Next to my girls. Even though they are behind plastic in an isolette and my only touch with them right now might be their feet or their little hands - some days no touch at all - I am happiest when they are near. There are some nights I go down and just curl up in the recliner and read, surf Facebook, write in their journals. I'm not over their isolette the entire time but we are all in the same room together - and that is when I feel what TRUE happiness is.  It's a feeling I have NEVER obtained probably since I was a little kid with zero responsibilities. It feels like the happiness you used to feel as a child on Christmas Eve/Christmas Day -- but so much better.

I used to think to myself, "If something was wrong with my child, I don't think I could do it as a mother." Yes you can. That all changes. "If I have kids I might lose out on my ability to travel." You won't care - trust me, you won't care anymore. " I don't know how these mothers who have kids prematurely handle this. I could never do life in a NICU." Oh yes you can!! You just do.

See, once the "Chamber of Secrets" is open, it doesn't close and it brings with its opening a whole new realm of "can-do's". You feel love like you never knew existed. You learn what happiness really truly feels like and how what you have felt previously that you thought was happiness - was just a fraction of what it really feels like. And that chamber brings with it the Mama Bear spirit. Out of nowhere, you go from this woman going through life thinking of all the reasons why you couldn't do something to this badass Mama Bear that will fight for your children, fight for your family, and not hesitate to remove people from your life if they offend any key piece of your heart. I feel like since this happened to me, it has opened up places in my brain that weren't previously opened. I see what matters now, and what doesn't. If it doesn't matter, I don't give it much energy because I need that energy for what DOES matter.

I have realized (even more-so than in the past) how important self care is - ESPECIALLY AS A NEW MOM. Is it hard? Yes. Is postpartum a real thing? Yes. Can it weigh you down? Yes. But - you have to take care of yourself to be able to take care of them. Especially as a NICU parent, it is easy for life to revolve around the NICU but if you let yourself slip - you are setting yourself up for trouble down the line. I need to eat to maintain milk production. I need to shower because, well, I NEED to shower. I need to be very careful who I see or let into my home because it is flu/stomach bug/cold season and I CANNOT get sick (if I even have a runny nose or cough, I am not permitted in the NICU to see my children) and worse - if I pass those germs onto my girls, that could be the end of their life. I need to take care of my mind or I will go bizerk. And you might be here thinking, "I don't know how she does this" - I promise you, the same fighter lives inside of you too. Unfortunately, sometimes the only way that side comes out is through a terribly rough struggle you get put through. And is every day easy? HELL NO! Lord have mercy, no...every day is hard in its own way - it comes down to how you do hard that gets you into the next day though. How you do the hard things is how you grow. And, taking care of yourself (mind, body and spirit) is how you both release your body of the stress you are feeling so that it can properly heal itself and keep you healthy, as well as how you prepare your body to handle the next blow. Because it's coming. This is life. If you think for a second that just because you went through something hard there isn't another wave coming somewhere down the line well, then, hope you can swim.

One of the hardest parts about all of this new found love, happiness, and all of these feelings is sometimes for me, right now, a sour feeling can't be fixed. I was in a particularly rough patch the other day - not super upset, just a little bit down. All I wanted was a hug or to feel my girls in my arms, and to be able to give them that tangible love back. That's all that would have fixed that moment. The cold reality is, I am 24 days postpartum and have yet to hold my children. I did not have my girls and them get put on my chest. I did not have them and get them wrapped in a blanket and put at my bedside. I still do not have those things and as a mother, that can tear your heart out some days. Let me explain why I haven't had this opportunity so that you all understand that it's more complicated than just asking for it. Both girls, as you know, are very sick. We are dealing with brain bleeds in both of them, they have been on medications in last couple of weeks to close up some holes in their heart. They are now on steroids to help their lungs. They have recently began feeds. Because they can't breathe well on their own yet they are on an oscillator that helps them out. The tubing and wiring is pretty intense (although, it doesn't scare me now that I know what each line's function is - and they're all good functions!) It would take a team of 6 people to bring my child to me to hold. Now, if that was the only thing I was concerned about, I'd be holding them. Here is what I have learned about my little feisty ones, though - they are just like their mother. They do not like surprises. They do not like being whisked into an immediate state of change where they need to quickly adapt. They prefer gradual change. They prefer learning about something, adapting to that thing, and moving forward. That is when they do their best - so as their mom, I am not going to whisk them out of their isolate for my selfish need and risk them hating it, de-satting because they are upset, or it being a traumatic experience for them. Instead, I do more contained touch now. I am going to be bringing in more comfort cloths so they can get used to our sent. I am helping with cares while speaking to them so they get to know my touch and my voice - and then, hopefully in a week or two if all is going well and they are stable, I will hold them for the first time. It is my hope, that by doing this piece by piece, it will be a wonderful experience for both me and them. But for now? I'm okay while at the same time not okay with not holding them, haha. I'm okay with it because it is for their benefit and what did I say above? Your children will come first. I'm not okay with it because, well, I'm their mom! I Just want to hold my babies! lol I don't think that's weird!

So that's today's entry. The grammar, I'm sure, is terrible. The punctuation probably made you cringe - but this blog is about airing feelings and not being grammatically correct. Maybe one day I'll get there, or care - but today - I only care about my girls and my self care <3 Thank you for reading.

Working Through What Is

26 Weeks 4 Days

The journey following my pre-term labor and NICU journey has been one of many ups and downs, as is expected. They say the NICU journey is a rollercoaster ride, and that is absolutely accurate. In addition, there is also the matter of dealing with your inner thoughts about yourself that can creep in from time to time.

As is the case with most women who have gone through pre-term labor, there is the guilt. Most of the time, the pre-term labor is due to nothing that the mother actually did - it just happened. Yesterday, I saw the pathology reports that came back on my placenta, umbilical chords, etc. and all it said was "Labor". There wasn't an infection, an abruption, or anything that signaled I did anything wrong, or that the babies were in a harmful environment (and I'm thankful for that); however, despite that reality this dark cloud of guilt just rolled into my mind like a storm rolling in over the waves of the ocean -and it just stalled and sat there all day.

As a mother, I am supposed to protect my children. My body, for approximately 10 months, is supposed to be their safe cocoon. It is to provide warmth, comfort, and nutrition so that my babies can grow and prepare for life outside. When my body decided to release the pregnancy, the protection was gone. My girls, even though they are badass little fighters, are now on the outside way before their time. Did I protect them to the best of my ability by being in the hospital? Yes. Did I get to the best hospital in Pittsburgh to handle this sort of issue? Yes. Are they in the best NICU in the area? Yes. Do I make sure they have the best nurses? Yes. But still - my body could not protect them - I could not protect them from the pre-term labor. Something a woman is supposed to be genetically designed to do, my body couldn't do and that is one of those thoughts that when it creeps in, it's haunting.

Then comes the why. Why did this happen to me? Why did my body decide to release the pregnancy? Did I do something that I didn't realize (like stress...although I wasn't really under any)? Why are we going through this? Why couldn't my girls be born without brain bleeds? Why couldn't they be healthier? Why does God feel like I need to be on this journey? Why? Why? Why?  I question it. I look for meaning. I try and find my answer to why. The harsh reality surrounding that question is that I will probably never know. It is a Why? that I will have for the rest of my life. The other day I posted about where faith comes from and I mentioned in there that it takes time and practice. What I didn't mention is that I don't have it mastered just yet, either. I have a strong faith, but when these thoughts roll in it can be hard for me to fight them with the light of faith. I know that is the only way to clear out the darkness, and eventually I get back to the light again - but please don't think for a second that I have this all figured out when it comes to faith because I don't. In fact, additional guilt comes in when I start to ask "Why?" because I feel like I am questioning God's goodness and His blessings in my life.

There are times when I look at other people having healthy pregnancies or having what I assumed I was going to have and I get jealous. That said, I don't know their journey to get there or what the rest of their life looks like (hopefully, it's good). But then I realize, while our life might look different than we ever imagined, that's all it is - is different. It doesn't have to be any less rich. It is filled with love: Ray and I for each other, us as parents for our little girls, friends and family. Love is the most important thing in this life - and this journey is blessed a million times over with love. Is that really a bad journey? No - it might be tough some days, but the love pulls us through. And is different really a bad thing? No - it's just different. As with anything in life, as with any change, the mind and body adapt and then it's not different at all, it's a new normal.

My girls fight every day in the NICU for their bodies to mature the way they were intended, while their mother (and father) fight every day outside of the NICU to manage a new life full of ups and downs. If my daughters can do what they are doing, then I can do what I need to be doing. If their little spirits are brave enough that they are soaring like eagles, then who am I, as their mother, to have a chicken mentality? How do you work through what is? You roll up your sleeves. You get in the trenches of it. You get dirty with it somedays, and learn little lessons from it all on other days. You dig deep to uncover hidden fears or perceived inadequacies and then you work through those. You give yourself grace, every day, even when it's hard to do so. You do everything you can during that day to ensure that you're handling whatever your business is - and on days where you don't handle it as well as you would have liked - you give yourself grace, again.

Life is not easy. Life is hard as hell and we all walk through our hell at different points in our life. But regardless of when your hell hits or what it looks like - keep walking forward.

Where Does Faith Come From?

Week 26 Day 1

There have been many comments on my posts lately about my faith, or me being strong or an inspiration. First, thank you - that means the world to me. Sometimes I wonder where this faith came from during this hard time.

I'll be honest - I listen to church, but I don't physically have a church that I go to regularly. I read uplifting Christian books, and prior to this ordeal I often forgot to say bedtime prayers. So if you think for a hot second that my faith is what it is because that's how I was brought up, you are wrong.

My faith has grown from a lot of "stuff" that has happened in my life. Sometimes, we can go through the tough things and wonder where God is, and usually He is working right alongside of us but we don't realize it. Sometimes, we go through rough patches at work, at home, etc. and God is trying to use those times to get through to us, to draw us more near to Him. Some take the opportunity, others just keep looking around and asking "Where's God now?"

I think one of the issues surrounding faith is the focus on what "favor" looks like. Most people hear the word, "favor" and confuse it with meaning "ease", "perfection", "smooth sailing", etc. But favor is around us every day. Some days it is very apparent - something you have been praying for has happened. Other days, you need to dig a little deeper into your heart and find it. I remember a few years ago when someone very close to me was going through something tough and I told her, "You have to have faith" and her response was, "My faith in God doesn't exist right now."

That is when your faith needs to be the greatest. Your faith should not only exist when things are going right - it needs to exist when things are going wrong. Faith doesn't mean "life is good". Faith shouldn't be dependent on whether you are in a beautiful season or a tough season of life. Faith just is. On the good days, you thank God for a good day. On boring days, you thank God for a boring day. And on the tough days, you ask God to use you in this moment, to teach you lessons, to help you see the reason, to bring the right people into your life, etc. Faith shouldn't only exist in seasons of "favor" - faith needs to be present during ALL seasons.

Again, this took me some time to realize. Walking into my current situation, there was no other option but to turn to God. Through prior bad times, I have learned that when I lean on Him instead of trying to figure things out myself - stuff just seems to work out for the best. Funny isn't it? The scripture tells us that God's plans are always better than our own, and when I lean on Him things work out. Hmm. So when this situation happened, it was an immediate discussion with God. The more discussions I have had, the more I have seen His blessings. I am noticing people coming into my life in ways that are very miraculous (I had a mother reach out to me who also had twin girls in the NICU at West Penn Hospital to help me through things - turns out she wasn't just in the same NICU, her girls were in the same room. They were the occupants before we came in - how is that for a Godwink?)  I have had friends of friends reach out to me with success stories of their own children who have faced the same hurdles to tell me how it turned out for them. I have been connected to charities, I have had so many people tell me their own tales of their 23 weekers or people  who knew others who have had babies at 23 weeks. I have friends reaching out to people they know at various hospitals connecting my girls with the best doctors there. God is working. God is blessing us and my girls every day. When you go into a situation, good or bad, and you begin searching for the blessings rather than the downfalls you start to witness God's goodness.

What helped me strengthen my faith:

1. Surrender - "Let go and let God"  Some things in life are going to be completely out of your control. There is nothing you can do. When that happens, you have to turn it over to the Lord because only He can guide the hands that can help.

2. Have the Tough Discussions - You're not talking to yourself, you're talking to God. If you are mad, tell Him. If you are afraid, ask Him to walk closer to you. If you are confused, ask Him to guide you towards the best decision. God wants to hear from you - the good and the bad. Do not be afraid to tell Him exactly what is on your mind, and exactly where you need help.

3. Praise! Praise! Praise! - As my Grandma used to say, "In the good times, Praise! In the bad times, Praise!"  In the good times, praise His name for all He is providing and guiding you towards. In the bad times, praise His name for all that he is showing you and how He is working behind the scenes. Just because you can't see it - doesn't mean it's not happening. Just because it doesn't go your way, doesn't mean there isn't a plan.

Remember, friends, God can use any situation for good. It might not be the way we would have hoped that something would have happened. In fact, many times the plan might be something that we would rather give up in order to have things worked out the way we wanted - but the plan is good. Always keep the faith. Sometimes, it's going to be hard. I won't lie, I have personally thought about how I would keep my faith if the worst happens with my girls and the answer is - I just will. I just will. If the worst happens, it's not something I'm going to readily understand, but I know there is a plan surrounding it and I will allow God to guide my steps accordingly.

So if you are ever reading my posts and thinking that my faith is so strong and wishing you had that kind of faith, or a better relationship with God - just start. Start talking to God. Start telling him what you're working towards. He has been wanting to hear from you <3

PTSD and Postpartum Life

Week 25 Day 6

If you have never experienced pre-mature labor or the NICU before, it can be hard to imagine what it might be like. Sure, one can assume the person is upset; however, the array of emotions, symptoms, and management of those is so much greater.

Today I want to do my best to talk to you all about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and how it relates to something like what I experienced. You can read about my labor here, and basically any of the other posts will clue you in on the NICU life. I won't be rehashing any of that again.

When you hear PTSD, at least when I hear PTSD, I automatically think of it as something that our veterans are plagued with from going to war. Perhaps another time someone may have PTSD is after a violent situation that they found themselves in. PTSD from pregnancy and labor was never something that crossed my mind, that is, until I started living it. I said it jokingly two days after the entire ordeal, "I think I have PTSD from all this" and the social worker looked at me dead in the eye and said, "You might." Since starting therapy it has been determined that I am experiencing PTSD and we are currently working to mitigate that as best we can so it does not worsen. I'm not afraid to admit that and I think it's good that people know.

So what does that look like for me?

I am not sitting around crying all day: I do cry a lot - and sometimes over NOTHING thanks to the hormones. Like yesterday, took one bite of my turkey sandwich - tears. It wasn't even all that good! And! This happened in the middle of the lunch rush at the hospital cafeteria. Lovely. So it's not like I was crying over the most delicious turkey sandwich of all time - I was just crying. It happens.  But as far as crying over all of this? No. I cry at certain news. I cry on hard days in the NICU, but at the end of the day I know God has my back. At the end of the day, regardless of how hard it is to keep my head on straight and stay clear with my faith - I know that no matter what happens, God's plan is greater than my own. That's all there is to it. Period.

I am not locked away in my house looking like a troll under a bridge: Okay - depends on the day. Some days I look exactly like a  troll from under the bridge but hello! I'm tired!

I am not refusing to eat. In fact, I am making more conscious decisions to eat better and eat more because my milk supply depends on it.

I continue to bust a gut (literally) laughing: I laugh every single day. I can still laugh at things I have always laughed about and quite honestly, I think laughter has been the biggest thing that has caused pain post C-section.

So to clear it all up - I am not sitting around with a little gray cloud over my head like Eyore thinking the worst of life. That is not what PTSD looks like.

What PTSD can and has looked like for me:

Intrusive thoughts that are very clear: For the first few weeks and especially on the one week anniversary, the labor situation would come flying into my mind. It didn't matter what I was doing, it would just barge its way in and take over. I would just stop and sort of blank out, sucked back in to experiencing every pain, sounds etc. It was awful. It was like I was experiencing it all over again. This wasn't me thinking about it, this was me mentally reliving it in a vividness that was far too real.  It doesn't happen anymore, but every once in a while a "snippet" might come in, but it's fleeting.

Strong emotional responses to seemingly innocent things: The other day I had to go to my OBGYN's office for an incision check to make sure everything is healing well (it is). When the nurse, who had helped me multiple times during my pregnancy, put the blood pressure cuff on me I lost it. I started crying, the room started to close in on me. The last time I was here with her, I was pregnant. The last time I was in this room, I was told everything looked great. Unfortunately, next door was someone who was pregnant and through the walls I heard the fetal heart doppler. That was the largest blow I have had to date. Never in a million years did I think a blood pressure cuff would kick me off, and I never even considered what the sound of a baby's heartbeat would do to me. Seemingly innocent - huge response.

Avoidance: Avoidance is a method of protection for one's self. The first couple of days of the NICU, I was hit with a lot of bad news at once. Unfortunately, though I am sure the doctors and nurses meant well, when I see them now there is a spike in anxiety. It's unfortunate because as I continue to talk and learn about the nurses from those days and the PA, they are really nice. But, they are associated with some of the worst things I have heard about my girls and so just seeing them pass our room makes me hold my breath. I also won't answer the phone when it's the NICU - I make Ray do it. Just can't do it.

Superstitions: In therapy they look out for "rituals" or "repeat behavior", but I don't think this is necessarily that. In our case, it's very much like what you might do when watching a Steelers game - you sit in your certain chair, eat your certain food and God forbid someone interrupts that tradition. If the game is lost - it's that person's fault. Well, my little tradition has to do with parking at the hospital. If we park in one area, we have good days, another area bad days. I will not allow my husband to park in one entire section of the parking lot because the one time we did we found out terrible news. He doesn't want to park there either, so it's not just me. Other than that though, there is nothing else that I feel like I have to do a certain way, or follow a certain route. There's no taking a certain elevator or anything like that. It's just the parking.

PTSD requires therapy and prescription medication in order to overcome or to make it more manageable. Additionally, I firmly believe for myself that exposure to some things that set me off may also be helpful (I can see a new mother leaving the hospital with her baby now and smile instead of cry - progress). I hope this entry helped to educate you all a little bit - it wasn't meant to draw attention to myself but more or less explain to you what PTSD can look like, especially in a situation like this. Please know that it does not consume my days! I personally think I'm handling everything pretty darn well all things considered..It's one of those things that sometimes you don't realize a person is battling because it is not always obvious on the outside. But it is what it is - a hurdle to overcome and one that I will and that will make me stronger in the end.

Sometimes, I Forget

Week 25 Day 3

A new and puzzling emotion has hit me the past couple of days that I am struggling with a little bit. Sometimes I forget that I was ever pregnant. Sometimes I forget that I'm a mother.

While I continue to heal from my surgery and I continue to live this odd lifestyle of not being permitted to walk very far, utilize stairs, drive a car, and have multiple timers going off during the day for various medications - my body (minus those hot flashes!) feels like mine again. I weigh less now than I did pre-pregnancy, my stomach looks like a bump was never there. The only reminder that the last six months were real is found in the c-section scar and two little peanuts named Valerie and Bria.

I think what upsets me the most about all of this is I never embraced my pregnancy. I felt blessed, absolutely! I loved those little girls - but I hated my body feeling so foreign. I had a lot of issues with back pain early on and general discomfort. Wearing pants hurt my belly - and it didn't matter if they were leggings, maternity pants, etc. - if they weren't sweat pants or pajama bottoms, I was in pain. I went into the OBGYN, I think, three different times for what I thought was a bladder infection, only to find out it was just Valerie utilizing my bladder as a body pillow. Now, after everything, I regret every single time I complained about pregnancy, about my body not being my own, about not feeling excited. I feel like I took the entire thing for granted (which I really didn't - I recognized my blessing, I am just someone who doesn't do well with not feeling well). There is not one single picture of my belly. There is not one single picture of Ray and I together with my belly. Zero maternity photos. It's literally as if the pregnancy never happened. That's a tough pill to swallow. Those photos are regrets I can do NOTHING about. Everyone would say, "Oh! Are you taking bump pics?" and I would always respond "Eeeeh I'm not really a "bump pic" kinda gal" and I'm not. However, now I wish I was. I wish a lot of things. I wish I was a bump pic kinda gal. I wish I loved pregnancy. I wish I flaunted it more. I wish I was still pregnant with my girls. But these are empty wishes because the fact of the matter is - nothing can be done with those now. Those are things I need to let go of; however, that's going to take me a little bit of time. It just is.

I was told so many times, "You'll miss being pregnant" and I would strongly say, "Nope! One and done!" I've said this before in this blog - I miss it every day. The real kicker of the entire thing is, the day after delivery the high risk doctor sat on my bedside and essentially set me up for the reality that my body might not be able to hold children. I had two miscarriages before this, very early (6 weeks), and you all know what happened here. For whatever reason, my body just doesn't work the way it should when it comes to the reproduction system, I guess. I'm thankful it worked as long as it did with my little girls - praise the Lord for that, indeed - but most likely, that was my one and only pregnancy. There will be no more bump. There will be no more kicks and rolls. It is what it is - but it's shattering to a woman's heart.  For us to have additional children would involve a ton of testing, a lot of extra precautions and none of it carrying any guarantee that this would not be the same outcome. Additionally, because I kicked things off with multiples and my age I am more likely to have additional multiples in subsequent pregnancies. We have mutually made the decision that should we want to expand, it will need to be done by other means.

All of that said, 23 1/2 weeks gave me the pregnancy experience. I got the queasiness, the exhaustion, the 2nd trimester comeback, the growing bump, the kicks, the rolls, the Braxton Hicks, and more ultrasounds than most mothers get due to me having multiples. I am blessed in that arena, I truly am. While shorter in duration than I would have preferred - look at how much I received in that time. That's a blessing - a big blessing. It's a gift that will be forever cherished.

With this new lifestyle, it can be easy to forget that you're a mom, though. My girls aren't here with me. I do not hear cries, nor do I need to run upstairs or into the other room for diaper changes. We are not sanitizing bottles or nipples. The middle of the night pump sessions are met by the quiet glow of the television and Golden Girls rather than a baby in each of our arms - but we are making it work. We are making this transition stage ours - whatever that may look like.  

I am truly blessed in the arena of a caring and supportive husband. I could not have dreamt up better support or more love in my wildest dreams than what I am receiving from my husband during all of this. He is so strong. Everyone is saying those girls are strong like their Mama - I don't know...I think they got a lot of that courage, bravery, and drive from their Daddy. When I look at our family - Ray, Valerie, Bria, Dexter, and Roxy - and how everyone came into each other's lives - wow. If we aren't a family perfectly curated by God, designed to withstand some serious shit storms - I don't know what is. I am so thankful that each of those pieces have come in to my life to give me the fullness and richness that I have been experiencing. 

While the past two weeks have thrown me some serious curve balls, I still consider myself truly blessed in so many areas of life - all areas of life. Struggles or not - I am blessed. We are blessed.

The Sh*tty Truth (or not)

Week 25, Day 2

We are going to switch gears here for a beat. We need to talk about another struggle, not just of this journey, but of many postpartum journeys that have come before it (and will come after it - so if you are pregnant, consider this your warning).

Poopin'. 

To my family - I apologize for this post, but it needs to be said.

When you go through pregnancy and begin to prepare for labor (or just have it out of the blue), friends and family will tell you about their own journeys, their pains, their struggles, sometimes more information than you ever asked for with regard to their labor experience...but one thing people seem to keep a secret is the issue of your intestines being non-functional postpartum. That's right - I'm talking about dropping a deuce. It's a hard job, but someone's gotta do it - and that someone will be you! Hopefully....without much assistance or tears in your eyes.

(Side note - people from my work read this blog and I can't believe I'm going there so openly. Guys - this is me bearing my soul. Now ya know. We're officially close.)

Guys - all girls poop. If you're reading this and you are one of my guy friends, stop saying, "Ugh! Gross!" Your girlfriend poops, the hot girl at the bar poops, your wife poops - everyone poops. Get over it. Tis a shitty situation (or not, in this case).

No one tells you about this! Not a soul! They might tell you that they go DURING labor ("thanks for that visual" I always think to myself), but this whole act of going AFTER labor is this big, dark secret that everyone seems to clutch close to their chests. I'm here to let it go (I wish...)

Ladies - you will be backed up FO DAAAAYZ! Days, my friend. Especially, if you are on pain meds. And each day your nurse will ask you, "Did you poop today?" and you will be forced to answer in despair, "No...not today."  You will take stool softeners, you will drink coffee, you will "get up and move", you will lay on your side, and you will pray and pray that something happens - but it won't. God does not seem to be in the business of answering certain poopin' prayers; however, maybe He does this for our benefit. Things do need to heal, after all - and His timing is always right. I take that back - he does answer these prayers in his own odd way. I just mentioned God and poop in the same sentence....Lord, forgive me.

Anywho, back to the business. 

The first couple of days is no big deal, other than the oddity of not going if you are pretty regular. I was not one of those women who got their appetite back postpartum (I'm still waiting in that department, if I'm being entirely honest) however, my situation was also a bit different than your standard labor and delivery so perhaps the stress has something to do with it. But yes, the first couple of days you won't notice. Come the third day (if you are still in hospital post Cesarean section, like I was) your nurse will start to look at you sideways, give you a puzzling look and say, "Let's try some Metamucil - that'll get ya goin'"  And you will shrug and say, "Why not - I'm on everything else in the world - what's a little Metamucil!"  

I hope for your sake, dear friend, that it works for you. It was a no go for me.

Upon hearing of its failure, the nurse will try something else - something "sure to work".

I hope for your sake, dear friend, that it works for you. It was a no go for me.

My body just wasn't having it! This was day...four? Of no activity and I was eating - albeit smaller portions, but things were in there. I started to get concerned for the big event - ESPECIALLY because I had every softener, and gut relaxant known to man in me. I mean, this could be a situation of terrible proportions. And I couldn't run, you guys. You cannot run post c-section - you can barely walk! So what's a gal to do if she finds herself in a situation? I imagined myself taking the reins of the wheelchair from Ray and rip-roarin' down the long hospital corridors like Mario Andretti - my open hospital gown flapping behind me in the breeze, sweat pouring down my face and a hunger in my eyes - definitely up on two wheels as I hit those bends.

I hope for your sake, dear friend, that does not happen to you. Thankfully, it also did not happen to me. You thought it might have - didn't you? No. I do believe the universe said, "She's been through enough..let's not take it there". Thanks, universe.

I'm going to spare my family, my work colleagues, and all of you the details of what happens next. But I will tell you this: it's not pleasant. It's not quick. It involves similar breathing to working through contractions. I would advise having a stress ball nearby (I'm not shittin' you - have one nearby). And that will be your life for a while. And some days you will go back to no activity for days - and on those days your stomach will hurt (which is exactly what you need when you are already trying to recover).

So you have been warned, my friend. You can't say "No one ever told me about this!" now. Saddle up and squeeze that stress ball.

I should add, ironically Little Valerie was experiencing the same issues at the same time. Poopin' babies are very important in the NICU and Val and me...well, we were just hoping for some movement. I found this little gem on YouTube that I played for her and danced around to (as best as one can dance when their pelvis has been sliced open and their insides re-arranged) outside of her isolate. It's catchy! You'll start to sing it when you go. I do - and I can say that now, me and Val are right where we need to be.  Not sure who paid these people to make this song but they deserve every cent.

Enjoy :) 

Be the Blessing

Week 24 Day 5 (or is it 6??)

The last nine days have been the most trying of our lives. There have been tears, there has been laughter - there has been pain at my incision site from said laughter. The ups and downs have been unlike anything I have ever experienced before. But there have been so many blessings.

I have read every comment, every message, every text that has been sent our way the last nine days. I have seen every well wish, every call to prayer, every encouraging story and picture. I have heard from strangers from all over the world that I don't know at all, about their similar situations and their happy endings. The power of God is great, and the way in which you all have surrounded us and put your praying hands over us should leave no one to ever wonder, "Is God real"?

Our girls, while very sick, have been little fighters. Each of them has their own handicaps to conquer each day. Some days they conquer them as if it is no big deal, other days (like today) their challenges seem to conquer them to some extent. But God is good. He is making them stronger every single day. He is healing them, He is providing the doctors and nurses with the wisdom necessary to make the right choices - He is guiding their steps. He is hearing all of our/your prayers and He is turning the weak into strong.

While some days aren't that good - I often reflect on those blessings that we have had. Essentially, every day has been a blessing because Valerie and Bria are still here. They make me laugh so hard some days with their kicking and flailing. I have loved reading Bible stories to them when we visit and watch my husband do the same. Seeing him as a father has truly been a magical gift. He's the best dad. Their mannerisms and their sleep positions mimic mine exactly. They are my girls, through and through. Bria has my wild side, Valerie my quiet side. It is as if you literally took my ying and yang and put each into a little girl. We have truly been blessed with these two and with the last 9 days of them being in our lives. Glory be to God!

Eventually, my plan is to return those blessings to others. I could not have gotten through the last week and a half without God, my friends, and my family. I want to be someone's help during their time in the NICU. I want to be that voice for someone that says, "What other choice do you have but to start thinking positively?" I want to be that force for a new mom that says, "Oh no - we are NOT going backwards today!" I want to be that someone who makes someone else feel not so alone as they sit in their room and hear all the beeping of machines, and not knowing what the beeping actually means. I want to take my blessings and spread them out to others. I want to give someone a reason to believe. Ideally, I want my girls to be undeniable proof that God is real and go on this journey of giving back our blessings with me - like the Three Musketeers of Hope! I want our little family to live happily together, and be a family that always gives back to those in need. I want to teach my girls at a young age what it means to help those who are struggling, what it means to pray God-sized prayers, and what it means to always take care of others.

God - I don't know if you read blogs - but I'm stating my intentions clearly. This is what I want. This is what I'm ready for. Special needs or not - I want to be a mommy. I want to live my life with Valerie and Bria and help them to grow big and strong and succeed in anything they put their mind to. I want their good days and their challenging days - I want them all. And while I'm blessed with those things, I want us to give back and bless someone else.

My First Week as a NICU Parent

Week 24 Day 5

When you get pregnant, you always assume that you will go into labor, have your baby, stay in the hospital a few days and then be on your way. For many parents, that is how the whole shebang goes, but for some of us - it looks very different.

There have been many days where I have been waiting for the elevator to take me down to the NICU unit, only to be greeted by a new mother with her baby in a car seat on her lap as her husband proudly wheels her out and towards their car. The other night there was a commotion upon exiting the NICU - it was in the Labor & Delivery waiting room at the end of the hall. Through the frosted glass I saw a family celebrating, hugging one another, at the news of a successful birth of a little boy or girl. These moments fill me with emotions that are sometimes hard to handle. On one hand, I'm so happy for that family - on the other hand, I'm so insanely jealous it feels wrong. And then I get really angry at whomever designed the layout of the hospital. Who the hell designs it so that NICU parents have to walk through Labor & Delivery?? Every time the elevator door opens I'm greeted by a mural of baby pictures - one of which is twins. It's a cold reminder of what I was robbed of.

The NICU hall is long, bright, and smells of disinfectant. It's ironic that the NICU feels totally separate from the rest of the hospital EXCEPT FROM LABOR AND DELIVERY!...I digress...you get it - I hate the design of the hospital. Moving on...

I had always imagined the NICU to be a cold unit. Lots of machines, dark rooms, stressed out parents - and I wasn't wrong. All of those things are very present; however, what is often times not talked about is the sense of community within the NICU. All the parents are stressed out. When you pass another parent, you look at them in their eyes and give a nod or a slight smile, as if to say, "Trust me - I totally get how you're feeling". As other mothers are wheeled past you in their wheelchairs, you meet eyes and silently convey to one another, "We will get though this, Mama".

The NICU nurses, security guards, and social workers quickly learn your names. They become your support system on good days and bad days. Hell, I hug my lactation consultant, Bobby, every time I see him! He has been there for us since Night 1 - he's family. Some days, a welcoming smile from the staff is the difference between you walking out tall, or crawling out shattered. They are the unsung heroes. The doctors have the power, sure, but when it comes to bedside manners and keeping the hearts and minds of worried mothers beating and moving forward - that's the nurses.

I'll be honest, when I see a doctor I hope they don't see me in return. I know they mean well, but things are just scary right now and because it is so early, there is much to be done. It is hit, after hit, after hit. My nurses know this. They know that speaking with the doctors causes me a great deal of anxiety and so the moment the doctor leaves, someone quickly gets out of their chair and comes in the room and shuts the door. From that moment they go from nurse, to best friend - breaking down all of the news and keeping me thinking positively. I don't know where I would be without my nurse team but I will tell you this much - I probably wouldn't have half the energy needed to write this blog. I wouldn't have my positive thoughts. I wouldn't have the courage to go back day after day. My nurses give me that strength and are my little rays of sunshine each day. I have zero doubt that my team of nurses love my girls as their own and that peace of mind is priceless. It's like we are forming our own little sorority - without the interpersonal drama.

There are also many teams of former NICU parents that get together to provide small gifts and care packages for those parents who are finding themselves in the same shoes that they once were. There is nothing like coming into your room, anxious, hoping to hear good news about your babies and finding a small care package or a card waiting for you. The cards are always handwritten and full of heart, sharing another mothers story and her giving you powerful words to get through today and tomorrow. These groups are the angels of the NICU - watching over the parents in ways that doctors just cannot do.

While I wish my girls were still kicking the hell out of my ribs and bladder rather than being in the NICU, I am so grateful for all of the people that I have met along the way. God truly places the right people in your life at the right time (that's a whole separate entry that is going to blow your mind - I promise). This is a shout out to all the nurses out there - NICU or not - thank you for all that you do to help your patients. Thank you for the selfless acts, the missed meals, the long nights and early mornings. Thank you for placing the care of someone else as a top priority in your life.

The first week of NICU life has had its ups and its downs. They say the NICU is one step forward and two steps back - we have experienced that. We have experienced the excitement of good news (Bria pooped twice today!!! Who knew I could be so excited about poop...) and the extreme let downs and negative outlooks. There have been so many tears, so many thoughts of "How can I do this?", so many scary realities but I know this - we will be stronger, all four of us, having experienced this down the road. This journey is taking our lives to a new level we never saw possible, teaching us lessons we never knew existed, and giving us strength we never knew we possessed.