Stay Little

As I put the ice in my cup to go to bed tonight, something flashed through my mind....

I remember your little head fitting in my hand. Holding you, swaying you and shushing you for an hour to get you to fall asleep. Walking you down the hall to your room in my bare feet, taking small, smooth, even steps as not to wake you. Keeping my hands on you after laying you down, slowly lessening the pressure until I was able to back out of your room, afraid the sound of my feet on the carpet fibers would wake you. Nana following close behind, another baby in her arms, duplicating my motions.

Then Nana and I would talk quietly in the dark, 3 rooms away. Making a plan for the night. We would get our water for bed, afraid the sound of the ice cubes in the cups would wake you, and sometimes they did. If it did, we would sigh and start over.

Now you are big. When I say it's time for bed, you run down the hall, your doll and stuffed dog in hand, arguing only about who gets to go first.

When it is time for you to go to your separate rooms, you need a kiss, a hug, another hug. "Night night, brother." "Love you."

You know, those late nights on the couch when I felt like I couldn't sway you anymore, this is what I dreamed of. The day you would be big enough to walk to your room, to wrap your arms around my neck and say, "I love you, Mommy".

Now I wish I could stop time. Snuggle you more. Laugh and splash more. Wash your hair and give you a scalp massage instead of rushing to get you in your jammies. I wish there was more chance to let you "help" in the kitchen. More time for you to tell me what is on your mind, even when it doesn't make sense to me as anything other than excited ramblings. More time to pick out the right book to read. More time with each of you individually.

As much as I love seeing you play together and work things out as a team, I cherish the fleeting moments I steal with you each when it's just you and me.

There's so much time to be big..... I wish you could just stay little.

My Little People

"Anson, can Mommy have a hug?"
"No."
"A kissy?"
"No."
"Ayla, can I have a kissy?"
"Hahaha... Nooo."

I think this is a sign that we are approaching 2. Is 2 really going to be "terrible"? Trying, maybe, but I can't imagine anything being terrible with these kids. A&A are growing and learning so much about the world around them. Learning to recognize their wants and needs, knowing what they do and do not want to do in any given moment in time.

"Do you want to go night night?"
"No."

Five minutes later.... "Mama, night night? Up."

At the table..... "Take a bite, you'll like it!"
"Mmmmm. Num num! More? Please?"
(Apparently they know how much I love when people compliment my cooking. That was one of my favorite things about Tim, he always complimented my cooking, especially in front of other people - bonus points!)

One of the things I am most enjoying is observing them learning to pretend. Every time they have the opportunity to play in a pretend kitchen, they love it. They pretend to cook and eat and put away dishes. (Santa is taking notes about this interest.) They have a small stroller at home and enjoy putting a "baby" in it and pushing it around, pausing to tend to the baby, giving her kisses and carrying her intermittently.

When we venture out, they point out babies, excitedly announcing their presence, just in case the mommy hadn't noticed that little bundle in her cart. Their baby pictures hanging on the wall are also more noticed now and they call their own small selves "baby!".

Recently they watched their first movie. They have seen other things before, but never paid attention like they did when I put on the Lion King. They both stopped and stared, standing in awe of the TV for some time before finally both climbing up on the couch with me to watch the entire film. I couldn't believe they would watch a whole movie like that, but they loved seeing the animals and naming them. (Although there were a LOT of "doggies" in their opinions.) Animals are of special interest now.

I was writing down on a calendar each time one of them learned a new word. Now the new words are flying out so fast I can't keep track. Anson even told me, "Mommy, come here" the other day. They tell each other "No, stop!" pretty frequently - I guess that's probably par for the course with twins.

I'm constantly amazed with the things they know, the things they are learning. No longer babies, I am impressed with the the amazing little people they are.

Oh, Happy Day.

Yesterday was a very special day that was met with much anticipation.

Tim's daughter Brittany was married. I am still wrapping my mind around it. I guess to me, she is still partly that 15 year old girl I was so terrified to meet 7 years ago. Just like to her parents, she must be partially the little girl they walked to her first day of Kindergarten or that baby they rocked on sleepless nights. There is something about watching someone grow up that freezes them in your memory, I think.

Truthfully, I ran through every possible scenario in my head leading up to the day, knowing it was going to be a joyful day, but knowing that, more than any other day I can think of, Tim's earthly absence was going to be felt. I knew there was no avoiding that - it just came with the territory.

Of course, Tim was on my mind, but having Ayla & Anson there for the ceremony was a great distraction. Thankful for helpful friends and family or they would have both been running wild. Apparently the exchanging of wedding vows is not great entertainment for toddlers. Who knew??

Brittany and Zac looked wonderful and so in love - it was such an honor to witness their commitment to one another.

My parents put on their "Nana" & "Papa" hats and picked up A&A so that I could enjoy the reception and they could enjoy some toddler time.

Sitting with Tim's family at the reception, there was quite literally an empty place at our table. A seat all set with plates and silverware and glasses missing only one thing - Tim. I don't know if that was intentional or just how it happened.

Their introduction, their first dance. Brittany's bouquet with Tim's badge shining from the ribbons wrapped around her flowers - the symbolism quiet, but the reminder loud - that Tim was there. Toasts were made. Tim's Dad talked about how Tim felt Zac was a good guy. (He did, indeed. He said to me on several occasions, "What do you think of Zac?" When I told him that I liked him he would always say, "Yea, seems like a good guy.")

Still, there was an elephant in the room as we all knew that at most weddings, the "Father Daughter Dance" would happen next. Brittany's stepdad broke the silence in the classiest way, addressing who we were all thinking of. Brittany chose to dance with several important men in her life - her stepdad, both grandpas and her uncle, Tim's brother. It was perfect.

As "Over The Rainbow" faded into "What A Wonderful World", I couldn't help but think of how the lyrics reminded me of Tim's favorite brand, "Life Is Good". That is something he truly believed all the way to his core: life is good.

I know Tim would have given anything to be there walking her down the aisle and to dance to Tim McGraw like she had always envisioned. But it was a beautiful day. And somewhere over the rainbow, Tim is proud of his little girl - his beautiful, grown up little girl who is now Mrs. Walker.

Broad Shoulders

When is it that people start to go away? When do people figure you've got it under control? That you don't need them anymore?

Many widows or widowers can answer this question. It's when you start dating. Maybe that is why I have refrained for talking about that here.... It is certainly not a secret in my "real" life. But in my "real" life, I know who is watching me. Here I don't.

Once that leap of faith into dating is taken, people start to pull away. Mostly the people associated with your spouse, I would guess - their friends, family, co-workers. Maybe it is because it is painful to see you moving forward, a constant reminder that time marches on. Maybe it is because they think this means you are "all better" now. Maybe there is some discomfort thinking that you are "replacing" your lost spouse.

The new man is expected by some to sweep in and repair the pieces of your broken heart while taking on all the responsibilities that your spouse had, that other people had helped with up until now. He is supposed to not only be okay with all these sudden expectations, he should be gracious about it. He should respect your spouse and all the talk of him and all the photos of him on the walls. He should take on some of the fatherly roles but know that he will never be their father. Inside he wonders if he will always feel like second best. It takes some pretty broad shoulders to carry that weight.

The truth is that moving forward does not mean that you love your spouse any less. It doesn't mean that you are leaving that part of your life behind or trying to forget. Moving forward is not the same as moving on - moving forward is just starting a new chapter. It doesn't mean that you want to erase the ones that came before. All it means is that you recognize that you deserve to be happy once again - that your spouse showed you a love so great that even after the heartbreak of losing them, you still believe in love.

I read somewhere that it takes a strong man to handle a broken woman.

When a man dates a widow, he is getting a lot more than he bargained for - a truly broken woman. Women as a species are different from men, and therefore a lot of men have a hard time with them. With a widow, there is a lot of emotional baggage that must be dealt with tenderly, but not so tenderly as to make her think that you think she is weak. Those men are constantly walking the tightrope that is loving a broken woman. This is to be commended. Respected.

I can tell you one thing, I think Tim would respect the hell out of the man who loves me now. And he's got some pretty broad shoulders.

Kaiser Turns 2!

On Saturday, Kaiser turned two marking a big milestone in his life and in our lives. We celebrated with a (lately infrequent) trip to the dog park and then to Petsmart for a new toy, some rawhide chews and the makings for a doggie birthday cupcake. 

Tim and I researched breeds, first dreaming of a chocolate lab before settling on the intelligence, protectiveness and appropriate energy of a German Shepherd. Kaiser was one of a little of 5 puppies born to a mother known only as Goldie - a blonde shepherd who was found wandering the desert of Southern Arizona while pregnant. A lady who raises Golden Retrievers took her in and cared for her and the pups until they could be placed for adoption through the Southern Arizona German Shepherd Rescue. 

Our interview process was intense. Phone interviews, aerial photos of our home and our neighborhood, discussions on training and discipline, lists of the closest dog amenities sent via email.... We adopted Kai 2 weeks before we moved into our new house. 

Kaiser is my first dog and little did we know at the time, the only shot Tim and I had at co-parenting. We took our responsibility very seriously and enrolled him in puppy classes and worked on manners, behavior and tricks with love and consistency. 

Over the last many months, Kai has become a big support for me and also my great protector. He is the perfect blend of protective and gentle, always knowing what is appropriate. He does not trust men that he doesn't know and is fiercely loyal to his family. He believes that A&A are "his" babies. 

We brought home blankets from the hospital to swaddle dolls so that he could learn their smells and begin to adjust before they came home. Kaiser was quick to fall in love when Ayla & Anson were born in January and now loves nothing more than having "tummy time" with them. He is a wonderful "fuzzy brother" and I am forever so proud of the dog he has become. 

364 Un-Birthdays: A Birth Story (Part II)

...Continued from a previous post.
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I have had to take off my necklace which upsets me. I have worn Tim's wedding ring around my neck and have never removed it. I negotiate to be able to hold it the whole time. The chain is wrapped around my hand and his ring is around my finger.

They roll me the very short distance to the operating room. It is a lot smaller than I expected inside. They have 2 baby warmers waiting. I have already been cautioned about the number of people that will be in there, so I am not shocked. Had I not been warned, I probably would be - It seems like there are 14-16 people present. A surgical team, the anisthesiologist (Richard) and a team for each baby.

I am lifted on my sheet and placed on the operating table. It is a strange sensation because I can feel only some of my body. I suddenly realize my mom is not there but then a moment later she is on my left side holding my hand. She is wearing scrubs like the doctor. She looks cute - if only she didn't have a weak stomach maybe she would have been a doctor herself.

A blue paper drape is put up at about my chest level blocking my view so I can't see what is about to happen to my abdomen. Richard has connected me to more medicine that is running through my epidural. Someone is pinching me to make sure it is working. I don't feel a thing. They begin.

Suddenly I feel the cutting. It doesn't hurt, but I feel it and it scares me.
"Mom, talk to me. Talk to me!"
"What do you want to talk about?"
I couldn't answer - it would take too long. Instead I started singing the first thing that came to mind: Happy Birthday. Fitting, I suppose.

The doctor is pushing down on my stomach. Pressure. Then I feel pulling. A moment later, a cry. My first baby is held up above the drape for me to see a perfect, bloody, slimy little face. As they whisk the baby away, the nurse stops aside me so I can have another little look. Just like I wanted, my mom goes with the baby.

Suddenly, I realize that I didn't stop to think that her going with that babies means that I am alone.

I am crying. Crying because I have a beautiful baby, because I can't believe Tim isn't here with me, because my mom is not holding my hand and the pushing and tugging is starting again.

"Richard? Richard!"
Richard the anesthesiologist it looking down at me from under his big, bushy eyebrows.
"Richard, hold my hand!"

Poor Richard looks shocked like this is the first time this has happened to him. I'm okay with that because I'm not alone on this side of the drape anymore.

Another sweet, blood-covered little face pops over the drape for me to see. I am in love. My mom comes over to talk to me.

"They are beautiful!"
"What's their APGARs?"
"I don't know."
"Can you find out?"
...a moment later, "They are perfect."

Moments later both babies are brought over to me so that I can kiss their little faces before they are driven away in their baby warmers with my mom in tow. They are perfect. Perfect. Tim and I made perfect babies and I somehow held them in long enough for them to be big and healthy. (I would later learn that Ayla was 7lb 0oz and Anson was 7lb 1oz.) Now that I know they are okay, I am dozing off as they are stitching me up.

I hear them giving me a drug that is supposed to help slow my bleeding. I hear that I am bleeding a lot. I hear the word transfusion. I'm so tired that I am very unconcerned. I hear them giving me another drug that seems to do the trick - I'm fine and bleeding is under control. It takes awhile to stitch me up, so I fall asleep again.

They transfer me back onto a gurney - I decided I kind of like the strange sensation the movement gives.

I keep going in and out of sleep. In recovery I get to hold Ayla and Anson together for the first time. They are incredible. Anson looks like Tim. Ayla has red hair. They both have Tim's earlobes. I can't explain why this is one of the first things I notice. Maybe because I loved kissing his ears.

It feels like it is the middle of the night even though it is the afternoon. My dad comes in to meet them. I ask him to get Brittany - I want her to be the first to meet her little brother and sister. I stay awake while she is there, even though everything is blurry. It is a revolving door of family coming to greet the newest little members of our family. I am exhausted. I can't tell you if I am dressed, if I talked to anyone, what time it is. I just know that this is the best day of my life and I have finally met the two people I've known for the last 9 months. We did it together even though we are so far apart.

We Are The First Losers

Well, it's looking like Brittany and I will be the first losers in the friendly family competition betting on the date of the babies' arrival.

Our chosen date is today, December 29th. It is now going on 3pm and I must say that is does not feel like there will be any action in the next 9 hours. The good news is that this was not a monetary bet and we still end up with 2 wonderful babies at the end, regardless of our losing status.

On Christmas night I did go to the hospital after about 6 hours of very consistent "different feeling" contractions and unusually low movement from Miss Ayla. They hooked me up to some monitors to "look" at the contractions and check on the kids, checked for dilation (none) and decided it was best to give me a contraction stopping shot and send me on my way.

Since then things have been relatively un-exciting aside from the kids getting really rowdy yesterday. That was entertaining for me and for my Mom & Dad who were marveling at how they could see the huge movements in my belly across the room.
Dad: "Oh my gosh! Did you see that?"
Me: "No, but I felt it - it's in my tummy, remember? Ha!"

I'm on orders to "take it easy" and spend most of my time on the couch. I am also to be watching my sodium, wear very sexy compression socks and I'll be starting an iron supplement today because my hemoglobin is a tiny bit low. All in all I am holding up marvelously for a lady growing 2 babies.

Thankful 2011

Every year since I've been online, I have posted my thanks at Thanksgiving. Being grateful and expressing thanks is something that I believe strongly in and that I hope to instill in our children. All too often we tend to take things for granted and I think it is important to slow down and really think about how blessed we are.

This year I have watched a lot of people post something they are thankful for each day for the month of November.

Thankfulness has been really difficult for me this year for the first time in my life. Instead of being grateful, I just want to cry and scream "Fu*k you, cancer - give me my husband back!!!!" Yes, I can still smile. I have even genuinely laughed a few times, but life is less enjoyable, less colorful, less vibrant and seems less worthwhile without him. I lack motivation, focus, purpose, joy or even contentment.

From the day we met, I loved being "Tim & Autumn" and I may never adjust to being "just Autumn".

All that being said, I have thought long and hard about things I am thankful for. There are still many - some very bitter sweet, some too personal to share - and I will share only a few. This year I am thankful:

- That I have the greatest husband I've ever met and that he is the father of our babies, who I know will be better because he is a part of them. For every kiss, every long talk, every hope and dream we shared, every night falling asleep holding hands. Even knowing the heartache I am experiencing now, I would not trade a single day with Tim. He remains always and forever the love of my life.

- For my family, Tim's family and our incredible friends who have been like a net there to catch me when I fall. I know they would say it's "just what we do", but the list of people who have gone above and beyond in their support is long, and I am grateful.

- For the Department - Tim's brothers (and sisters) in blue who have held our family with the greatest love, care, honor and kindness. I know that they miss Tim every day like we do, and I know that they will make sure that we are always members of the Tempe family.

- That the babies and I will get to stay in the house Tim & I wanted to raise them in and that I know he is here with me every day sitting beside me and guiding me. For all the happy memories in the house and that I don't have to leave them behind.

- For a healthy pregnancy, the joy of feeling our babies moving around inside me, and the excitement I feel to meet them and kiss their sweet faces. This is not how I imagined pregnancy would be - I imagined Tim and I laying in bed together watching my tummy shift - but I know Anson & Ayla's well-being has forced me to deal with losing Tim in a healthy way.

- For Tim's medical team. Although this did not turn out the way we expected or hoped, I know his Drs fought for him, respected him and cared for him. Their staffs were our friends we saw every day who did so much for Tim, me and our family. The nursing staff of Scottsdale Shea C-3 are angels who helped him fight and when it was time, helped him rest. I am forever grateful.

- For the community that I know and those I don't know who have helped me in so many ways - their words of comfort, prayers, donations and assistance are what has gotten me through this far. I have a long road ahead, but I think of how blessed we have been every day.

Feels Like Home

When Tim and I first met, there was this song that made me think of him. It basically talks about not knowing what love is until you meet this person. Not realizing what you have been living without until this person comes into your life and wanting to hold onto this love forever.

That's what I felt with Tim every day. He brought a sparkle into my eyes that wasn't there since I was a child. With him, every day was an adventure, everything was more vibrant and beautiful. It was a constant competition of doing nice things for each other. Every day was a rainbow.

Tonight I turned on Pandora and listened to music while I made my Grandma's special rolls for Thanksgiving tomorrow. We are going to Tim's parent's house just like last year and all the years before. But it will be so different. So empty, so quiet. Tim won't be there to whisper something funny to me or secretly hold my hand under the table. As I stood there making all these rolls tonight, I was thinking about last year and Tim sitting there chatting with me as I rolled them up - commenting on how good they smelled, asking if he could eat an ugly one. It was our first holiday in our new house and he was so proud that I finally had a kitchen where I could cook like I wanted to.

I'm happy to be driving up north with Brittany in the morning. Happy that I'll be surrounded not just by my family, but Tim's family - those who are feeling the same loss and emptiness that I am. I hope we will laugh, I know we will cry.

These are the lyrics to the song "Feels Like Home" by Chantal Kreviazuk:

Something in your eyes
Makes me want to lose myself
Makes me want to lose myself
In your arms
There's something in your voice
Makes my heart beat fast
Hope this feeling lasts
The rest of my life

If you knew how lonely my life has been
And how long I've felt so low
If you knew how I wanted someone to come along
And change my life the way you've done

Chorus: Feels like home to me
Feels like home to me
Feels like I'm all the way back where
I come from
Feels like home to me
Feels like home to me
Feels like I'm all the way back where I belong

A window breaks down a long dark street
And a siren wails in the night
But I'm alright 'cause I have you here with me
And I can almost see through the dark there's light

If you knew how much this moment means to me
And how long I've waited for your touch
If you knew how happy you are making me
I've never thought I'd love anyone so much

Chorus 

Feels like I'm all the way back where I belong.

Support Systems

They say that in the roughest of times, you find out who your friends are. I'm not sure who "they" are that say this, but I have witnessed it in the last 2 months.

It has made me so sad to see Brittany struggling through losing her perfect dad with a limited support system here in the Valley. Unfortunately many of her friends just don't know what to do or say, and thus they do and say nothing. Honestly, at 20, how many of us knew how to comfort a friend who had lost a parent? Very few, excluding the other kids who have walked that terrible path. While she has needed comfort, many couldn't find the words. When she has needed company, they were too busy living life to see that hers was at a stand still. When she has needed normalcy, they have been awkward. It's been hard to watch and it has added to my heartache for sure.

Fortunately, apparently by our 30's we know a little more. We understand that sometimes there aren't the right words, but a hug will do. We have learned that sometimes you don't have to say anything at all - just being there counts. We still make the call and extend the invitation even if we know it will be declined. I would also say that in the roughest of times you find out what kind of friend you have been, because with friendships, you often reap what you sow.

I have learned what I always knew - that I have the best friends around. That I may be an only child by blood, but my "sisters by choice" are part of my family.

Since I lost Tim, my ladies have been by my side and stayed with me every night. They have taken my calls when I just need to talk about nothing and when I need to cry about missing Tim. They have listened to my stories, my nonsense and by blubbering sobs. They have been there for me morning, noon and night.

I hope that this means that they are somehow showing me that I have also been a good friend to them. We have pulled each other through the good times and bad. The laughter, the celebrations, the breakups, the births, the promotions and lay offs, birthdays, funerals, you name it. I've always known where I could turn, than they have always known that they could turn to me.

To my sisters: I thank you and I know that without you I would be a mess. I love you and I'll never, ever be able to repay you for your love and kindness.

Week 24 In The Tummy

Today I had an appointment with our OB to measure the babies development via ultrasound. I asked Tim's parents to join me and they were pretty excited to view their very first ultrasound. My favorite niece was also able to come and she was really good at making out the images on the screen.

Ayla & Anson are both in great health. The pregnancy is progressing normally now, and all is well in my uterus.

Ayla is weighing in at 1lb 10 oz. Anson, who looks a bit taller, weighs in at 1lb 11oz.

Earlier in the pregnancy, I think I had shared that I had experienced some frightening bleeding that was the result of a Subchorionic Hematoma. I had experienced continued spotting since the last hemorrhage occurred. Although I know not everyone believes the same things that I believe, it is my belief that Tim took that bleeding with him when he passed away. I'm not sure if there is a process for negotiating or what, but I can imagine him negotiating on behalf of me and the babies. I haven't lost a drop of blood since he left this Earth.

I think that Tim is right here with us and that he has a watchful eye on us and will make sure that the babies are developing properly throughout their time in the tummy.

POP Walk for Tim

On August 27th, I lost the love of my life, my best friend, my partner, the father of our babies and the reason every day was beautiful to me. I have not said anything because I don't know what to say. My heart is breaking every moment of every day.

Undoubtedly I will have more to say later, for right now I have something driving me - Tim's desire to support POP and the early detection of Prostate Cancer. I am asking you today to join me on Saturday September 24th at 8:30 in Kiwanis Park in Tempe. I will be speaking on Tim's behalf and continuing to spread his monumentally important message.

Register by clicking HERE and join our team, "Bustin' Perps, Fighting Cancer". When you are filling out your registration, I know that it is a little confusing, but I assure you that I am the Team Captain and you will not become the Captain by writing your name in that blank.

In years past we have asked our friends and family to wear yellow to show your support for Tim. This year the official POP shirts are yellow and have Tim's face and our team name on them. With that in mind, I will not be placing a t-shirt order this year.

If you have any questions, please contact me. I look forward to seeing  you there.

Family, Friends & Brotherhood

I do not usually use this venue to talk about Tim's health. Yes, there may be a mention here and there as it's hard to avoid mentioning something that plays such a sometimes large role in our lives, but it's not a focus - we have CaringBridge for that. Instead I choose to focus on our lives together as a whole. I choose to try and write and share our story without giving the Stupid Effing Cancer the attention it wants.

Today I'm going to talk about it a little bit. More than a mention in passing, but not enough to let it "win" this day.

This morning, my beautiful step daughter, her boyfriend, my sister in law, Tim's cousin and her daughter, and my in-laws all hiked 7 miles in Flagstaff in the Climb to Conquer Cancer. That's the kind of attention I like - the kind that only serves to beat the cancer down. To degrade it and show it who's boss. The days when our family stands on top of the mountain victorious all for Tim.

We both have great family. We have surrounded ourselves with amazing life long friends. We have a support system that can't be beat. And we have "the brotherhood" - a force to be reckoned with. What is the brotherhood? It's something that I didn't used to know about. Something I that maybe I heard about on TV. It's something that happens when a bunch of people do push-ups together, develop deep bonds, fight crime and have each other's backs no matter what.  It's not a myth - it's very real in the thoughts and actions of a Department that loves my husband unconditionally. It's a kind of unconditional love that I have witnessed repeatedly and I know exists. It is like another family.

These men and women - these friends, these "Brothers" and "Sisters" - have watched Tim and I struggling these last few months and have jumped to our aid. They have run our errands, cut our yard, sprayed for crickets, they have sent cards and emails expressing their support, visited, laughed and brought care packages. They have loved us in a time when we have most needed it in every way.

Thursday, that love is being taken to a whole new level. They have worked tirelessly to put together a benefit BBQ to help Tim and me with some of the daily financial struggles that Cancer has brought us. If you are free, we would love to see you. Come and let those sworn to protect and serve you 'serve' you a burger. These are some of the most loving and selfless people you will ever get the chance to meet.

Click HERE to see the full sized flyer.... 

  

The Big Reveal: Part Two: Sunday, June 19, 2011

Preface: The posts in this series were written in the past. I am posting them chronologically, but these events are not taking place right now, they already happened. The date in the title of each post is the date it was originally written.

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I have heard people say "I've waited my whole life for this day" before and I always think it's a little overly dramatic. Really? Your "whole life"? Well, when my parents and grandparents arrived for Father's Day dinner, I really had waited my whole life for that day. Tim had been giddy and excited with me all day. I'm not even sure how I managed to prep dinner. I can't remember what I fixed. 

I'd ordered the gift weeks ago and had it in the box for days. I'd wrapped it just that morning so I could keep looking at it and making sure it was just right. 

Neither Tim nor I ate well - we were just waiting for dinner to be over so we could see my Dad open his gift. 

I have to say, I loved their reactions. These are 2 people who couldn't possibly be more excited to finally be grandparents. And if their parenting is any indication, I think they'll be wonderful at it.

Click HERE to watch the video.

(If that link doesn't work, cut and paste this link into a new browser window: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-qw47vWS_s4 )

The Big Reveal: Part One: Saturday, June 18, 2011

Preface: The posts in this series were written in the past. I am posting them chronologically, but these events are not taking place right now, they already happened. The date in the title of each post is the date it was originally written.

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Some things can't be put into words, so I will just give you a little background information and let you watch the outcome for yourself. 

Having 2 families means that sometimes we are able to get the whole group together, and sometimes we have to celebrate things separately. This year, we celebrated Tim's brother Ted's birthday and Father's Day together by gathering with his family at the Olive Garden. 

Tim dutifully videotaped as his Dad (recovering from shoulder surgery) opened his very special Father's Day gift. 

I think he liked it.

Click HERE to watch the video.

(If that link doesn't work, cut and paste this link into a new browser window: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppdh_Z9RnqU )

First Ultrasound: Monday, June 13, 2011

Preface: The posts in this series were written in the past. I am posting them chronologically, but these events are not taking place right now, they already happened. The date in the title of each post is the date it was originally written.

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We've been waiting a very long, very difficult 23 days for this day to arrive. Last week, I felt like I needed a little communication, so I took a home pregnancy test just to get a positive reading.

I met Tim at the Doctor's office. I arrived about 20 minutes early, which didn't matter as we were taken to a room about 30 minutes late. (Grrrr.) I was getting to be a stir-crazy mama waiting to get a look inside my uterus!

In the exam room, we were greeted by one of our favorite nurses who was just beaming with happiness that we were pregnant. Such a different feeling than other times we had been there and I had felt so disappointed and discouraged. I was already enjoying our visit and hadn't seen a thing yet.

Tim scooted his chair up close to me and was holding my hand, both of us a little sweaty-handed with excitement, nerves and anticipation. That first glimpse when I recognized what I was looking at, I think my heart skipped a beat. No sign of recognition from Tim. A long second passes.

I see two big, dark parches on the screen. Neither is my bladder. I have learned to pick that out right away, and that is not it. There isn't a doubt in my mind about what I am looking at. 2 gestational sacs.

"We have twins!" proclaims the nurse with a big smile. Tim squeezes my hand and says, "Yesssss!" like a kid who just got picked first for a team.

I laid there, propped up on my elbows staring at the screen surprised how in shock I am since we have always talked about having twins. She continues the exam, making sure everything is in good order.

It wasn't until she labels them "Baby A" and "Baby B" that I cried a little. For some reason that really got me (pregnant emotions, anyone??).  Both babies have great, strong heartbeats that we got to both see and hear. They measure similarly, though baby B is a tiny bit smaller. They both measure at 7 weeks, 1 day gestation.

I can't believe that they are calling me almost 2 months pregnant. That I am 2/3 of the way through the first trimester that everyone says is so difficult and I feel so good.

Before we leave, we talk to the nurses about finding an OBGYN and they give me some samples of good prenatal vitamins. We schedule another ultrasound for next Wednesday. Then we should be able to see the umbilical cord and the placenta(s). This is routine to make sure that all is going according to plan. In the meantime, I get to keep up my massive Rx schedule, but today even a bruised tummy and backside feel 200% worthwhile.

We drive home, floating on a cloud.

We now have less than a week to keep our mouths shut before we FINALLY get to surprise our families for Father's Day. Pretty sure this will be the best gift ever.

Test Day: Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Preface: The posts in this series were written in the past. I am posting them chronologically, but these events are not taking place right now, they already happened. The date in the title of each post is the date it was originally written.

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Appointment at the Doctor's office at 7:30. That means getting up super early. I set the alarm.

As I'm getting ready Kaiser is being a pain. I have left the back door ajar for him so he has free access to the yard and can entertain himself. I keep checking on him. He's playing with his frisbee. (Best 99 cents I have ever spent.)  A while later he appears to be chasing the air. Later he is patrolling the yard. Later I look out again. He is galloping through the yard with a rope in his mouth. I go outside. It is not a rope, it is a length of cable. I don't see any places he has dug, so I write it off and bring him in the house.

I finish getting ready and get out the door.

No need for Tim to be at the appointment. This is a boring appointment. Nothing exciting - just a blood draw. A blood draw that I will inevitably think about all day.

I ask the nurse to please call me as late in the day as possible and leave the results including my HCG numbers on my voicemail. I know whatever the result, there will be tears and I don't want to find out at work. I want to be with Tim.

I make it to the office 45 minutes ahead of my scheduled start time. I don't let myself get loose on google punching in anything about the HCG test. I just check email, catch up on Facebook and read the news. That woman Casey Anthony's trial is starting today. She makes me sick. I would have taken that beautiful little girl off her hands. 

Work, work, work... meet a friend for lunch and have good conversation to keep me distracted. Also have a great Mexican chicken dish. Back to the office. Busy afternoon - deadlines looming - I forget about it for the most part. Except Tim is texting me here and there about it. He is more nervous than I am. I'm not nervous. What's done is done. Nothing at this point can change the result of this test. There was no additional studying I could have done in that waiting room to assure a higher score. I feel good about it.

Late in the afternoon, I see the Doctor's office calling. I don't answer. 

Tim has a contractor at the house he is meeting with so we don't get to chat on the phone on my way home like we do most days. I call a girl friend instead so I'm not tempted to check the message. We chat all the way home.

When I get home, Tim is rushing around and talking on the phone. The cable wasn't "nothing", it went to our air conditioner unit. It's 89 degrees in the bedroom. He's got to get it up and running ASAP, so we wait to listen to the message.

As soon as he gets to a stopping point, he rushes to the kitchen. We dial it up. It sounds like she is talking in slow motion. I hear her say "definitely positive" and then I tune out because I'm too busy hugging Tim and jumping and crying and making excited noises. We have to re-listen to the message to get the numbers. HCG at 423. According to the internet, that's high. They have me scheduled for another test Thursday. 

Tim had to run to Home Depot to buy supplies to fix the A/C and he kissed me goodbye. And kissed my belly. Twice. (Now who's superstitious?) 

The hardest part was when my parents came by with my Dad's cousin an hour later and we had to act like everything was normal. I'm so excited to tell them. They will be as happy as we are. 

Being cautiously optimistic, but truly ecstatic. I wonder if I will sleep tonight.

I Am A Liar: Saturday, March 19, 2011

Preface: The posts in this series were written in the past. I am posting them chronologically, but these events are not taking place right now, they already happened. The date in the title of each post is the date it was originally written.

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Today I lied to my Mom. She had come over this morning to drop off some produce. We used to always go to Bountiful Baskets together but since the move that is really impractical. Often she offers to pick up our basket for us and then bring it by so we can chat while I unpack fruits and veggies. It works out really well.

This morning I had completely forgotten she was coming over 8ish. And we had an appointment to have a blood draw and an ultrasound at 9. (The scatterbrain part may be kicking in....)

With my Mom and my husband standing in the kitchen, Tim mentions that we need to be going to an appointment soon and I'm stammering something about our insurance agent as we forcibly rush Mom out the door.

Either she knows I'm lying about something or she thinks I'm a stressed out mess. Oops.

Black & Blue & Cute: Monday, March 14, 2011

Preface: The posts in this series were written in the past. I am posting them chronologically, but these events are not taking place right now, they already happened. The date in the title of each post is the date it was originally written.

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The Nurses all told me that I'd "just know" if I ever did an injection and hit a vein. They said I would get a bruise and I thought, "Man, I must have really bad aim because I almost always bruise." Oh, silly, silly girl.

See, the bruising I had before were tiny, light gray bruises maybe the size of my thumbnail and usually faded away in a couple of days. Last week I was giving myself an injection on the left side of my tummy and it felt a little different when the needle pierced the skin. It felt a tiny bit different as I pushed the plunger end released the medicine into my body. But it wasn't until I pulled the needle out that I was sure. Oh, yea, I "just knew" alright... because blood squirted out and there was already a bruise. Within an hour it was a rainbow bruise with a knot in the center about the size of a chicken's egg.

It's funny because it was only the slightest bit tender, yet it looks like Rocky was using me for punching practice.

After a couple of days, I tried injecting on the left side again and did the same thing again. When I'm sticking 2 or 3 needles a day into my midsection, it's nice to be able to alternate sides, but I'm a tad apprehensive now.

The bruising aside, I am feeling really good. I am a bit bloated, but I still feel like I have an attention span, I don't feel exceptionally tired or moody. This is a lot better than I was expecting. I'd prepared myself for misery, but this is pretty tolerable so far.

I allowed myself to purchase a few clothing items over the weekend - the first since our "needs only" spending boycott began about 9 months ago. I got some flowy tops and stretchy pants that will help me hide the bloat that is undoubtedly coming and the first little bits of pregnancy that will hopefully be close behind.

I feel cute and a little spoiled.

The Big Secret: Thursday, March 10, 2011

Preface: The posts in this series were written in the past. I am posting them chronologically, but these events are not taking place right now, they already happened. The date in the title of each post is the date it was originally written.

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I've heard that some women spend a lot of time since they were little girls thinking about their wedding. I wasn't one of them. I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about our wedding until we were engaged and then it was just practical planning and such.

What I have thought about considerably more is how I want to tell my parents that we're pregnant. Maybe that's silly, maybe it's an "only child thing", but I think it comes from the part of me that loves to give the perfect gift so I can see the look on the person's face. I hear being a grandparent is the ultimate gift, after all.

This is one of the reasons that I am not going to publish this post (or many others) for quite a long time. The only people who know we are going through an IVF cycle are those who must know for practical purposes - our employers.

Tim and I talked a lot about it and based our decisions on 2 things:
1) We want to surprise our families with happy news. (I'm not the only one. Apparently he's crazy, too.)
2) We don't want to dash any hopes if things don't go according to plan on the first try. (it was hard to have to report failure after failure with our IUIs and if thigs don't work out with IVF, we need time to cope privately before opening it up to the world.)

It was a hard choice because we do want to be open about this process - that's why I am blogging to be able to post in the future. We think it is important to share eventually no matter what the outcome. Someone somewhere can learn something from this process.

In 31 years I  have never kept a secret this big - especially from my parents, with whom I share pretty much everything. Whenever I start to feel guilty, I just remind myself that they did know Tim was planning to propose for a long time. And my sweet, sweet  Mom did have my engagement ring in her possession for 8 months without spilling the beans. Then I feel a little better about it.

The real question is how will people possibly not notice how bloated I get during this cycle.