How does it go??? Prepare for the worst but hope for the best?

Well, I made it through the first year after Areila's death.  I don't even know what to call it.  I don't like calling it a birthday because to me, birthdays are happy times to celebrate the continuation of life.  Some people call it Angelversaries but I don't believe that she is an angel.  She might be WITH angels but she is not.  I can go on for days about how wrong and uncomfortable and sad it is to celebrate a life that existed and ended....inside of me.  I decided to make the day she was 'born' a day for family and love.  So, my wonderful family gathered at a special playground and we released balloons and ate cupcakes.  It was so surreal to be pregnant again a year later and knowing that....
Well, that anything is possible.

As my pregnancy progressed, so did my anxiety and just the aches and pains of pregnancy.  I really tried not to complain and felt so guilty doing it.  I tried my best to sleep on my left side (because blood flow is best while lying on that side) until bursitis kicked in so I did A LOT of tossing and turning which was VERY difficult.  I was also hungry A LOT during this pregnancy and eating was something that I was still getting used to so I woke up a lot because of hunger if it wasn't for hip pain....or heat.  It was a VERY  hot summer and we topped at 107....on a day that I had to leave the house for an appointment.

Having to pack away Areila's clothes from the closet and drawers was so very difficult for me.  They stayed there for months.  I couldn't imagine having to do it again.  I couldn't imagine blissfully preparing for these babies and they not make it through...alive.  So, we didn't prepare.  We bought nothing.  I gave my wonderful cousin some money and told her what we needed but made her promise not to bring the things to our home until and only if the babies were born healthy and alive.  So, I prepared myself for the worst and hoped and prayed for the best.

I take that back.  We needed a larger vehicle that would accommodate 5 children, so we did purchase that...which was VERY difficult.  VERY.

I pretty much knew where each baby was and felt comfort with every moment....both babies were VERY active just like their big sister, Areila.  There was a day, probably a couple weeks before my their expected delivery date, that I noticed one of the babies' movement had seemed to be slow and I nearly lost my mind.  My doctors did everything they could, short of delivering them and I was in the doctors office from about 32 weeks on, about 3-4 times a week with non-stress tests twice a week and bio-physical profiles (documents practice breathing, heartrate, movement, amniotic fluid).  The monitoring settled my anxiety for a short time but by the next day, I was a wreck again.  There were many hospital trips...and any time that I felt unsure....of to the hospital I went.  I couldn't take any chances and have any more regrets.
 

One day, while home alone with my 4yr old, I got up and was in excruciating pain.  I couldn't move and had to call my husband home from work.  He came and practically carried me to the bathroom where I almost passed out.  It turned out to be sciatica, something that I never had with my other pregnancies.  So...for the last 3weeks I was REALLY stuck to the couch and had to walk with crutches and used wheel chairs when I went to the doctor.

Feeling the movement of two active babies was comforting but they also kept me up and it got to the point where I slept only a couple hours a day.  The only shows that are on at 4am on Sundays are Infomercials, the 'kill your husband/wife and try to get away with it' shows, and Hoarders.  However, I did look forward to the show, 'Escape to Chimp Eden'....chimpanzees are fascinating.  I ended up watching every season and episode....TWICE.

 

The few days before my amnio were absolutely terrible.  I kept thinking about how I couldn't make it to 37 weeks which was when Areila died...and how I was just 4 days away from my induction date when she died.   It took all I could to pack my bags and then pack my daughter's bags because the last time I did that and headed to the hospital, my life was forever changed.

To make a very long story short, the plan was to have an amnio at 36 weeks and if they got an amniotic sample and one of the babies' lungs were mature, they would admit me that day and do a c-section the next morning.  Well, after about 15 pokes and a very sore and bruised belly, the doctor gave up.  The babies were too active, they were too big to get a decent pocket of fluid, and he was afraid to poke one of them with the crazy long needle.  So, I was sent home...and we had to move to plan b.  I was completely devastated.  I never thought the babies would make it here.  I was so afraid they would die.  We really weren't prepared for plan B but my doctors were required to make me wait another week.  However, they knew that I was on the verge of a breakdown and were going to admit me to the hospital for 24/7 monitoring until I reached 37weeks.

I was so depressed and defeated and cried the whole night before but I got up the next morning and went to one appointment where everyone in the office was disappointed to see me there, once again, still miserable, in a wheelchair, and still ginormous.  I passed my non-stress test but when, my doctor did a quick ultrasound but noticed that my amniotic fluid looked a little low and sent me over to the head high-risk doctor's office.  It was there that I had a biophysical profile and one of the babies didn't pass one section of the test.  That doctor was trying to figure out a way to get me delivered because by then, I had just about driven them all crazy---I was already there.  He asked us to sit in the waiting room and after about 10 mins. he came out and told me that they kinda changed the results of the NST to have the 'criteria to deliver' and to drive to the hospital to deliver the babies.  I could NOT believe it.  The time had come.  The babies were still alive and I was going to be a mother of 5 girls and have 2 new, living, breathing, pooping, and kicking babies. 

We drove home, took the dog to the sitter, grabbed my bag and headed to the hospital.  We live about 40mins. away so that trip seemed like it took forever.  Talk about surreal.  I went to l&d, and by then, many of the nurses knew me and were excited that the time had come.  They prepared me for the babies needing to possibly go to the NICU because they were a little early but I couldn't really show emotion.  I was still, too afraid to be hopeful.  My l&d room was just around the corner from the operating room and let me tell you....there were A LOT of people there!!

Of course, the epidural didn't work so they had to do a spinal and work quickly.  Remember what I said about preparing for the worst....well, there was something in the back of my mind that kept replaying..."what if the babies make it and YOU die."  They began the surgery and told me that they were getting one of the babies out....they pulled her out and held her up so that my husband could see her and she began to cry.

I swear I heard angels singing....3 minutes later, the same thing---another crying, bloody, and goopy baby.  I sobbed...and puked....and inquired about their health because my husband was in another room with the babies.  I really did expect them to be in the nicu for a bit.  I could NOT believe it when my husband walked out with two babies in his arms.  OH.MY.GOD!  (and I'm an atheist)

They finished up the surgery and wheeled me back and the epidural quickly wore off.  So, I was in quite a bit of pain and in disbelief.  Notice my emotionless face at that point?

We held the babies....did skin to skin to stabilize their temperatures.  I breastfed them and they immediately latched on like champs.  It was so unbelievable.  Here it is, a year later and I'm still in disbelief---I carried 2 babies at one time and they're alive and healthy and SO UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLY AMAZING!!!

To speak their names is to tell the story that out of darkness, light shining light can arise and the truth that prayers can be answered and with that comes....peace.

Eleni Satya Indigo (Shining light and truth)
Arabelle Shanti Indigo (Answered prayer of peace)

All of my children are amazing...they are the air that I breathe.

Bachelors in Theatre Arts....

(Pretty bad....huh?)

I can smile, laugh and shoot the shit with the best of y'all... but it often pains me to do it. I sometimes feel guily for smiling and laughing. One of my degrees is in theatre and I've truly had to use some of my old skills in the last 6 months. The longer I have to fake it, the more I need to retreat to my safe space and breathe....and get angry and cry because I have to be someone that I'm NOT to protect myself and others.

After retreating to my bedroom to cry as I saw my family and friends gather for Areila's memorial service, I somehow got myself together to get through that day. I fake it for work and I acted/faked it during the benefit concert that I organized. Actually, I'm pretty damn impressed at how good I looked that night. I had an awesome Cheshire Cat smile...I greeted...I hugged....I laughed....I even sang a few songs. I also drank a lot....A LOT!!

(You'd never know I am a hot fucking mess by looking at the pics....huh?)

I don't know how it happens but I somewhat step outside of my body and allow it to go through the motions and appear "normal". I'm so fucking far from normal and I doubt that I will ever be again.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I've never dreaded the holidays more than now. We all know that holidays are meant for happiness and togetherness. It's often a time when new family members get introduced to other family members....when children play...when adults laugh, talk, and reminisce....when babies get passed from arm to arm...moments of bliss. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and although I'm very thankful for my family and friends....the aching and hollow feeling is more intense. How can I be thankful....really? I should be toting around and adorable, cooing, giggling, juicy-legged 6 month old baby. This time last year, I was fantasizing about this year....not being pregnant and having another addition to my beautiful family. There is someone missing.....someone that should be here. I am incomplete and I don't want any parts of the traditions that made our holidays before Areila. I've been so upset not knowing how to include Areila in some way.....but feeling ridiculous that I WANT to include her. She's dead...she's gone...no one really knew her but me and I feel pretty fucking cheated for the 9 months that I had. Why would others care to include her and won't they think I'm a kook for wanting and needing it? I really don't want to go but I'm going....for my husband and my girls....for the rest of my family. Mainly, so they don't try to put me in the crazy place for not understanding that I will feel incredibly insecure, self-conscious, unthankful and guilty, for feeling unthankful....and would rather be curled up in a chair with my pajamas on.

So, tomorrow I will put on my glasses, hope that we're in a dimly lit room so that others don't see the tears that will well up in my eyes and I will work really fucking hard to keep the tears from overflowing....and I will smile my fake ass smile to protect my husband and children so that they can have the holiday that they deserve. Wish me luck!

Please let there be no babies.....