Twists and Turns

Just when you think you have life (somewhat) figured out, you get thrown a curveball. 

As I said, after Lynley's surgery and into the fall, I just couldn't shake the sadness of the pregnancy I didn't get to have.  I was pregnant all right, but I didn't get to experience the JOY of it all.  Instead, I had a black cloud looming over with every doctor's appointment.  I simply could not enjoy the whole experience of awaiting a precious baby (and, oh my, was she precious). 

There was really nothing I could do to change my feelings except pray about it continually, and that's just what I did.  I went on pretending that things were great, but inside I just felt empty.  I knew, in time, God would make it all better, so I trudged on enjoying what I had been blessed with...a super, healthy son and a precious, healed daughter.  I was still on leave from school, getting Lynley to her therapy sessions and doctor appointments and watching her truly thrive and astound everyone she came in contact with.

We celebrated a certain five-year-old's birthday, a busy Christmas season, and the first birthday of an amazing one-year-old.  Life was moving right along, and I moved right along with it.  The feeling of emptiness and sadness never completely went away.  In fact, on dark days, the feeling was unbearable.  That wasn't every day, though.  I spent my time soaking up all I could of the two best children I could have been given.

For Spring Break, we took our yearly family trip to Gatlinburg...one of my favorite trips of the year.  It's just my immediate family, and we have so much fun just getting away for the week.  No real schedules, dirty laundry, cleaning...you get the idea.  I had no idea that this year we were going to experience the twist and turn of a lifetime!  As the week sped by, the girl whose cycle is ALWAYS to the day was off.  A few days late became a week, and I'll just tell you, this girl began to panic.  Of course, I kept thinking of all the medical things that could be wrong with me.  Jason, being fully Jason, was more laid back about it.  It was mentioned in passing a couple of times throughout the week that it could be that I was pregnant, but neither of us could truly let that sink in.   After all, three in vitros and $75,000 later, we were extremely lucky (and blessed) to have the two kiddos we have.  I convinced myself that something was wrong and vowed to go to the doctor the next week to find out what it was.

The pregnancy thought kept nagging us.  When we got home on Thursday night, Jason decided to just get a home test to rule that out.  Let me just say, neither of us were even remotely thinking that was the "problem".  I did the test the next morning (without Jason knowing it because he made it clear he did not want to know when I did it).  I guess the nerves were more than he could handle.  As I did the test, I had zero confidence that it would be positive.  Remember, I had never seen one of these be positive...ever!  I had seen more lines and no's than I cared to in a lifetime.  I convinced myself that I was not capable of producing a positive test.  Here's what I saw even before the three minutes were up....

 

God, you TRULY do have a sense of humor! And the fun begins....

 

Just Being Brutally Honest!

This is definitely not going to be my most flattering post.  It is brutally honest, but it is all part of my story.  It is yet another puzzle piece of how God is working in my life.  I guess you have to have some hard days to truly appreciate the good days.  That's exactly what happened to me...

Lynley made it through surgery (both of them) like the champ we knew she was.  We finally got to come home and begin our new (somewhat less stressful) lives.  My two children were under one roof and there wasn't a life/death surgery looming anymore.  Life was good, or SHOULD have been!

We had decided that it was best for all involved if I did not go back to work in the fall.  Lynley still had therapy sessions to go to (in Birmingham, nonetheless) and was still only a few weeks out of major surgery.  There was NO way this momma could leave her now!  So, the plan was to stay out a semester to be there for all her care would entail (and to finally ENJOY being Lynley's mommy instead of being her "worrywart")!  She was thriving in every way, so shouldn't I have peace?

Here's terribly honest part....I was completely depressed and angry.  It wasn't all the time, and I tried never to show it outwardly (which was even harder, by the way).  The reason for this sadness was that I was mourning the pregnancy and experience I didn't get to have with Lynley.  That may sound very selfish, but I didn't get to truly enjoy one minute of my pregnancy with her (from losing a twin, to finding a defect, to the uncertainties of each doctor's visit).  I didn't even get to enjoy her birth.  She was whisked away just minutes after I had her and I was in life/death surgery just a few hours after.  The first few months of her life were spent in anxiety and I couldn't even show her off to anyone for fear that she would get fatal germs.  All of that was bad, but we made it.  She survived and was thriving by all standards, so what was my problem?  Why couldn't I just appreciate the here and now.  Why couldn't I enjoy to the fullest having a miracle for a daughter?  I guess that's what was the saddest.  I had no idea why I just couldn't GET OVER IT!  I prayed lengthy prayers for God to just give me true peace and joy, yet it just wasn't coming. What in the world was wrong with me? 

Sad, I know, but those were my true feelings.  I knew that that was our last chance at a baby...after all, we had even failed with one in vitro attempt.  We'd be paying for this last attempt for what feels like forever, and, frankly, neither Jason nor I could handle the emotional part of in vitro and pregnancy again.  That's what hurt so bad that I couldn't shake it.  I didn't necessarily want to be pregnant again.  it wasn't that!  I just wanted my experience to be different.  I couldn't stand to hear that someone was pregnant or see a pregnant person.  I was bitter that they got to enjoy the pregnancy months and the anticipation that goes with it.  My pregnancy days were done...gone.  Even with all the prayers I lifted up, there just still wasn't peace, and my feelings seemed to be getting worse, not better.  I truly hated feeling like this.

I know now that God was chuckling, because only He knew what was around the corner (oh dear gussey)....

She Shouldn't Be Here

This post is one that I have been both dreading and excited about writing.  There will be some truths in here that it took this mommy a while to come to grips with.  Along with that, though, it is so extraordinary to witness what God did with our little miracle....

Getting home from heart surgery was nothing short of heavenly.  I FINALLY had both of my precious babies under one roof for more than a day a time.  We still could not take her "out" as long as her scar was healing so as to prevent any infection.  We had to scoop her up instead of picking her up normally due to her bones healing (they had to break...yes, break...her chest bone to get to her heart properly).  All in all, being home was awesome.  I could actually breathe (somewhat) now that the worry of surgery (and all that it entailed) was behind us.

Two weeks after we were home, we had a routine checkup with her cardiologist to make sure things were progressing normally after surgery.  It was at this visit that we got the news that changed our thinking and our family forever.  They checked her out and gave her a thumbs up for her recovery process.  The doctor began talking about how big the hole in her heart ended up being.  He reiterated how that it is totally unheard of and how very lucky she was to have survived.  When he saw our startled and perplexed faces, he proceeded to tell us that there was no medical reason Lynley should have survived before her heart surgery.  He told us that, medically speaking, a person (especially a newborn) cannot survive with only two full chambers in his/her heart.  As scary as it is for me to say this, he told us right then and there that we should have woken up one morning to a dead baby.  If the doctors had known the extent of her heart defect, they would have done surgery shortly after she was born and the likelihood of her surviving would have been small.  Excuse me?  I knew I had been blessed with a very special little girl, but, at that moment, I realized I was holding a MIRACLE!  The thoughts of all that could have been came flooding for a few minutes, but then I looked into Lynley's eyes and knew that this was all part of the plan.  God was revealing little at a time how he wasn't finished with her yet and how He held every fiber of her being in His Almighty Hands!  I must say that one doesn't get this kind of news about your child and then go on with life as if nothing had happened.  I believe I held her a little tighter (not too tight, though, since she just had open heart surgery), told her how special she was more than I did before, and just basked in the fact that God had chosen ME to be a part of an earthly miracle. 

No, in the beginning, I didn't love the fact that my sweet daugther would have to endure much more in the first few months of her life than most people do in a lifetime, but I was realizing that everything was going to be just fine.  Was she cured from everything?  No!  Lynley will still have obstacles to face as time goes by, but, my friends, I know with absolute certainty who held (and still holds) my baby girl in His Hands!  That is true JOY!

Now, on to our "new normal"....

Not Exactly What I Was Hoping For!

Surgery was scheduled for the following Monday morning IF Lynley's heart remained in heart block.  I spent that week willing that precious heart to "click" on its own.  I watched the heart monitor almost constantly while I was with her.  They informed us that, with each passing day, the likelihood of the electrical part of her heart kicking in was lower.  I kept believing but preparing myself for another (much less serious) surgery.  If it is your child, though, any surgery feels big.

God was definitely in our week's wait.  He gave our precious Lynley awesome nurses to take care of her.  I was astounded at how much love and care each one gave.  None of them minded my middle-of-the-night phone calls to check on my angel.  Also, we could not have felt more loved and cared for while there.  There was never a long stretch of time that we were alone.  So many friends and family visited us during our (seems like forever) stay.  That meant more to us than we could ever truly express.  Times can get pretty lonely staring at the heart monitor of your little blessing and willing it to change.  So many people made that lonely time bearable (please note that I did not enjoyable).  We even had to spend Father's Day in the hospital.  I hated that for Jason, but our other little miracle, Harrison, spent the night and day with us!  Though it was not the most perfect of places to spend a holiday so special, it was complete with our whole family together under one roof (even if it had to be a hospital roof)!

Even though my wish would never have been facing another surgery with my daughter, that was the reality.  They came to get her about 9:30.  Of course I was a big ball of tears, but it was a little easier.  They rolled her bed down the hall to surgery and let me stroll most of the way with her.  I just couldn't believe we were here again.  I had to tell myself that, in order to go home, this had to happen and it was best for Lynley.  We were assured that a pacemaker would not alter her life one bit...unless she wanted to play football in the future!  I felt pretty confident that my little princess wouldn't be choosing the football route.

Surgery went great.  It was once again hard to see her after the surgery, but the recovery time was much less.  She did really well and the pacemaker was doing its job perfectly.  We stayed a few more days (LONG days), and were finally released on Thursday afternoon.

Now it was time to breathe and recover.....

My sweet brother visited me!

Mommy got to put on my own clothes!

The nurses had Phineas and Ferb on for me!

A sweet friend brought me a stuffed animal!

My AWESOME doctor and my battle scars!

Sharing a Father'sDay milk!

One HAPPY family headed HOME!!!!

The Good and the Bad!

We met with Lynley's heart surgeon (who was extraordinary, by the way) shortly after the long surgery.  He informed us that the surgery went very well.  He was able to repair the holes in her heart, and she did great.  I guess by now, with all we've gone through, that I never fully breathe until I find out if there is a "but" coming from an informed mouth.  There definitely was in this case.  After the the holes were repaired, Lynley experienced heart block.  In simple terms as I understand it, that means that the electrical part of the heart is not making the necessary connections.  Because of this, Lynley was put on a temporary pacemaker.  If Lynley's heart corrected this on its own, the pacemaker would be removed and all would be just fine.  However, if her heart continued in this way, a permanent pacemaker would be installed through yet another surgery.  She had about a 75% chance of it correcting itself on its own.  Time would tell...

The rest of the news forever changed our family.  We would find out more at a later date, but we were told that the two holes that the doctors thought that Lynley had turned out to be one extremely large hole.  The hole that was repaired ended up being the entire size of her heart.  Her surgeon told us that was unheard of.  He had done over 100,000 surgeries in his career and had never seen a hole that large.  Wow! That was a lot to swallow.  Bottom line....Lynley is lucky (or blessed by God as we view it) to be alive.  More on that later!

Under the circumstances, considering everything that could have gone wrong, this was a very minor setback.  Our daughter excelled during surgery, was recovering nicely, and the surgery was over.  I decided to concentrate on that.  We would spend the next week waiting and waiting and waiting for the heart block to correct itself.  In the words of that famous engine...I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

About 30 minutes after speaking with the surgeon, we were able to see our sweet angel.  I must say that nothing in the world can prepare you for seeing your child on a ventilator.  It was so hard to see, but, on the other hand, the love you have in your heart for your little one is able look past all of that.  She wasn't conscious, but she was adorable.  I held her hand (I couldn't hold her because of the ventilator and all of the wires) and talked to her like only a mommy can.  I wasn't going to let one more second go by without my girl knowing that I was there.  Have I mentioned that she is absolutely adorable?  We couldn't stay long at that time, because they had medical things to do to get her totally situated and comfortable.  Jason had to pry me away!  I'd been away from her for over six hours and I didn't want any more time to pass.  We went to eat with the group that was there to support us and came back a short time later.

Now our job for the next few days was to love on her (no problem there), help her recover from this surgery, and wait for the electrical part of her heart to kick in as normal.  So the wait began.....

Surgery Day....Please Take Me Instead!

As I lay there in the dark silence the night before Lynley's surgery, I contemplated how hard I would have to beg the medical staff to take me to the operating room instead of her.  I wanted to take this from her so badly!  As a mom, I just could not bear the thought of handing my almost-five-month-old to a complete  stranger for them to cut her open, put her on bypass, and fix her heart.  It was a very helpless feeling to say the least.  I battled wanting all of this over with to figuring out if I could escape with my precious little girl where they could never find us.  Meanwhile, while all of these scary thoughts were drifting through my mind, I stood over the bed of my baby and watched her sleep so peacefully.  It was then that the tears began to fall.  Right there, in the hospital room.  I spent the next few moments praying God's protection over my little one.  I would love to say that, at that moment, I got perfect peace about the whole situation.  I didn't, but I knew, without a doubt, that God wasn't going to leave us and so many were praying for our little heart patient!

Just going through the motions entirely, I got up and took a shower so I would be "ready" when they came for her.  I'm not really sure it's possible to be ready for something like that, but at least I would start the day somewhat put together.  I even put on mascara...talk about brave!!!!

They came for her punctually at 5:30 just as they said.  Her scheduled surgery time was 7:30, but, with all the pre operation "stuff", they needed her about two hours before.  Let me just say, it was a long two hours.  Every time I looked into her little innocent face, I would break out in tears.  Thankfully, she fell back asleep through much of it. Looking at her, knowing that she had absolutely no idea what was about to happen, almost did me in.  They did all the pre-op paperwork while I hugged her with all I had and cried.  That pretty much sums up the two hour presurgery time!  I was a basketcase and Jason was stoic and very matter of fact.  Have you ever heard that opposites attract?

The moment the nurses came to get her for surgery is etched in my brain for all time.  I handed my baby over to a complete stranger (although she was extremely friendly) and they whisked her away for surgery.  She put my everything in her arms with her head on her shoulders.  That sounds endearing, but that left my sweet angel looking at me the whole time they walked away down the hall.  It was then that I fell against the wall and to the floor in total helplessness.  I know that sounds very dramatic, but it is pure honesty from a broken hearted mommy!

Somehow, I (with my husband's help) made it to the waiting room.  We had a complete section filled with family and friends.  I am thankful for each and every person that was there to support us that dreadful day.  I did my best to look at each minute that passed as another minute closer to seeing my baby. Sitting there, I knew the possibilities.  I had heard all the open heart surgery horror stories.  I knew just enough to be scared stiff, wanting and praying constantly that my daughter would make it through this.  There were no guarantees.  I knew that.  The horrible thought of never getting to raise her was suffocating.

Although it sounds as if I was a mess (and I was somewhat), I also had a peace that passed all understanding.  I handed her over to a physician that I trusted wholeheartedly, but I knew the Great Physician had her in His almighty hands.  There were no guarantees that my little would be just fine after all of this, but I knew the One that created her loves her even more than I do!  How can I top that?

They gave us updates as the surgery dragged on.  Each update was the same...everything is going smoothly.  While each update gave me temporary relief, I longed for this whole ordeal to be behind us.  After a very long fivei-and-a-half hour surgery, we got the call that it was over and the doctor would be meeting with us shortly. It was over and our little trooper had made it.  Praise the Lord!

It was both good and bad after meeting with the surgeon thirty minutes later....

Calm Before the Storm

Although we had lived the last nearly five months in "isolation", the doctors gave us the go ahead to go to the beach the week before her scheduled surgery.  I believe every member of our family needed a getaway before enduring what was right ahead of us. 

I love the beach.  It is one of my absolute favorite places to go.  Although I was happy to be there with my family, it was somewhat of a difficult week.  Don't get me wrong, we had an excellent time, but all the while, we knew what would be happening in a few short days.  It was so much fun watching my four-year-old build sand castles, catch the waves with his daddy, and swim like a fish in the swimming pool.  I loved taking Lynley down to the beach for short intervals to experience it for the first time.  I loved basking in family time...all of us out of the house together making memories!  There was no reason to believe that she would not survive the surgery, but it IS a high risk surgery for anyone.  There are no guarantees.  No one could tell me with certainty that Lynley would be around for many beach trips to come.  I tried not to dwell on that, but it never fully leaves your mind no matter how much fun you are having.

There is no place I would have rather spent the "calm before the storm."  I hugged my two kiddos a little bit tighter each day, and enjoyed family time a little more as the time grew shorter.  I wasn't about to take one single minute for granted.  I spent portions of the time in tears dreading the future, but I also spent much of the time with a peace (that I know only God could give).

We got home on a Friday and we were scheduled to be at the hospital on Sunday for check in as the surgery was Monday morning, June 11, 2012. On Sunday about 11:00 A.M., we left in our van with little Lynley and left our other precious boy at home with my parents.  The moment nearly took my breath away.  I'm pretty sure I cried most of the way to Birmingham.  This was really happening, and the reality of it was painful...very, very painful!

In the hospital room the night before surgery

 

 

After a totally sleepless night, they came and got us early the next morning....

Mixed Emotions

After getting our little girl home, this mommy had the full gamut of emotions for a variety of different reasons...

Elation - I was thrilled beyond comprehension that I was actually holding a newborn baby in my arms.  There were many times during my pregnancy that this was not a given.  We spent a lot of time waiting on her birth wondering if the diagnosis was wrong or if she would be worse physically than anyone thought or imagined.  Having gone through wondering if I would ever get to hold her, I was elated every time she was in my arms.  Although she was not as healthy as we prayed she would be, she was here, in our arms, and it felt good.

Exhaustion -   We knew Lynley was facing open heart surgery....no doubt about it.  The doctors were doing all they could to help her grow and gain weight before she underwent surgery.  They told us that gaining weight would give her "the greatest chance for surviving surgery."  I'm not sure how any mommy sleeps after hearing those words about her baby, but I made it my mission in life to make sure I did all I could to help Lynley thrive and continue to gain weight.  It sounds easy enough, but I nearly wore myself to a frazzle trying to make this happen.  Because it was such hard work for her, drinking milk was somewhat of a struggle.  I worried if she didn't drink every last ounce she was supposed to.  To put on weight, the doctors were having me wake her up in the middle of the night to feed her - totally against everything I believed in.  Why wake a perfectly sleeping baby?  She did NOT care about eating.  She wanted to sleep, and, frankly, so did I.  It's one thing when your newborn baby wakes you up in hunger, but it's a whole different ballgame trying to get a baby to eat when she is not interested.  Sometimes feedings took nearly an hour, and it felt like I turned around and did it all over again.  My body was exhausted and my mind was exhausted from worry.

Anger - I know it sounds horrible to say, but this is not the life I wanted.  I didn't want to have to go to cardiology appointments with my newborn hearing of an impending open heart surgery.  I didn't want to be in "seclusion" with her to keep her from getting sick.  I asked for her to be healed completely, and it didn't happen.  I totally didn't understand this path I was supposed to follow, and it just didn't seem fair.  Yes, I had the baby that I so desperately wanted, but the worry and anxiety that surrounded us was suffocating!  I knew God had not left the Pierce family, but, at the time, I did NOT understand the plan at all.  I trusted that God knew what He was doing, but I cannot say that I didn't have doubts and frustration a lot of the time.  I wouldn't see until way later what God was doing in Lynley during this hard time.

Loneliness - What does every mommy of a newborn want to do when she gets that sweet baby home?  Of course, she wants to show him/her off.  That was not something I could do.  Due to fear that she could get sick (and that could very well be "life threatening" for her), doctors insisted that we keep her at home unless totally necessary.  That meant there were no friendly get-togethers, play dates, trips to the park, church services, etc.  I'm so thankful I have my mother.  Whenever I needed to go to the grocery store or go somewhere with Harrison, she came over to keep Lynley.  She would meet me in the parking lot of Harrison's preschool and watch her in my van while I walked my sweet boy in and picked him up.  For the five months we were "quarantined", it was extremely hard for this mommy.  I love having both of my kiddos but life as we knew it had drastically changed.  Believe me, it got lonely (and scary)!

Fear - Although Lynley had made it into this world just fine, she was not out of the woods.  Her heart condition was very scary.  We knew she had a hole (possibly two) in her heart that would not heal on their own.  The longer we could put off the surgery, the greater her chances would be.  Yes, I said it.  "Her chances."  That meant there was no guarantee.  Open heart surgery is a scary thing.  Open heart surgery is a REALLY scary thing when it comes to your baby!  The only way I ever even rested at night is a "God thing" in itself.  Part of me wanted this surgery over and done with.  The other part of me was paralyzed by the fear of this surgery.  What would happen to my baby?  What if she didn't make it?  What if there are complications?  What if I didn't do enough?  What if my love couldn't save her?  What if I never got to see her grow up?

We did get to dedicate Lynley on Mother's Day at church.  We couldn't stay past the dedication time, but being there with my beautiful baby made my first Mother's Day with Lynley special.  Yes, the surgery was coming, but, for a few short minutes, my life felt normal. 

The surgery was coming less in less than a month whether I was ready or not.....

A Momma Torn!

My surgery was a little before 7:00 in the morning.  Everyone that was there for the birth had gone home for the night, and anyone that was coming to visit us on Saturday hadn't arrived yet.  That left Jason all by himself, not knowing whether his wife would make it or not.  The only thing he knew to do during the surgery (besides pray) was to go be with Lynley.  He told me that he stayed with her for a little bit and talked to her about the situation.  Of course he knew she couldn't talk back, but he told me that being with her made him feel close to me.  He told her how much I loved her, and how he hoped I'd be there to hold her soon.  To say that he was scared would be an understatement.

I came out of the surgery just fine...Praise the Lord!  I can't say that I was the most comfortable I had ever been in my life after just giving birth and enduring surgery, but I sure did feel better than I had just hours ago.  As soon as I was alert enough to know what was going on, I wanted to see my baby....my precious, perfect baby!  It absolutely stunk that she was not in the room with me so that I could put my arms around her anytime I wanted (which was ALL the time).  When we got the go ahead that I was well enough to be wheeled down to her, we went.  The first time I saw her in the NICU nearly broke my heart.  Not because she looked bad, but it just isn't how you want to see your newborn baby.  She had several wires going to her for monitoring and she was on oxygen.  I didn't care about any of that....I just wanted to hold her close.  The wires made it pretty difficult, but, rest assured, I got really good at it.  With the exception of the middle of the night, if the NICU was open, we were there.  The hardest part of this time (and there were many hard parts) was being torn between my two children.  It's just not natural to have to choose between them.  I absolutely know that Harrison was WELL taken care of (if not spoiled), but it stinks being an hour away!  I loved spending time with Lynley, but I was now the mother of TWO (not just one). 

I was released from the hospital the following Wednesday.  To be released without your newborn hurts! My parents brought Harrison down and, for next two nights, we stayed at a hotel close to the hospital.  I loved having Harrison down with us.  He loved the indoor swimming pool, and I cherished everything I usually take for granted like his constant hugs, laying with him at naptime, tucking him into bed at night, and just hearing his voice.  He definitely didn't understand all that was going on, but, just like all kids, he was resilient. I was able to spend time with both of my children for those two days (although not at the same time).  It didn't feel natural, but felt better than being miles away from one of them.

We also had friends and family constantly come and visit which helped so much as I was one breath away from crying at any given moment.  As all good things do, our two days with Harrison had to come to an end.  We were fortunate enough to get a room at The Centennial Lodge (which is a small hotel-like place) connected to the hospital.  That way, we were near Lynley and it didn't cost nearly as much as a hotel.  We were glad to be there (as happy as we could be under the circumstances), but sending Harrison home was heart wrenching! 

We stayed day after day with really no word as to when this NICU nightmare would end.  She had the heart defect which affected her oxygen.  She also underwent test after test after test...bless her little heart.  Compared to the other babies there, Lynley could have won the "Healthiest Baby Award."  I absolutely lived for every moment I could hold her, feed her, sing to her, etc.  Each time I would wake in the middle of the night, I would call and check on her.  As time drew on, we wondered what was really keeping us here?  To get an answer to that question proved extremely hard!!!!!!  Yes, we knew her heart was struggling but they weren't going to do anything to fix that now.  After several very long days, we finally got somewhat of an answer.  Since the heart affects her oxygen flow, then to go home she had to stay at 90 or above for three days.  For poor Lynley, that was never going to happen.  She would have occasional "dips" in her oxygen but was always able to bring it right back up.  Although it was good to be able to bring it back up, each time she had a "dip", the three day count would start over.  At this rate, we'd still be here until her surgery months later!!!!  She would go a day or two with no "dips" and then she would have one.  And so it went!  Thankfully, a nurse went on our behalf to the doctor to explain that Lynley's oxygen level would simply never stay at 90 or above until her heart was fixed (and she was too young and small for that yet).  She pleaded that she would be fine to go home because she was able to bring it back up quickly on her own.  So, thanks to Nurse Jane, we found out we were going home the following day.  Elated is not a big enough word to describe us at that point! 

The night before you leave the NICU, families go to the "Family Room" attached to the NICU.  You have your baby all to yourself but with monitoring by the medical staff.  Finally, I was able to hold my baby and take care of her all on my own.  She still had a few wires attached, but it was pure heaven.  Did I mention that she was adorable????  We were one step closer to having our family together again!  Our WHOLE family!  Under one roof!  We were simply exhausted, but were so ready to break out of prison!!!!

At about 3:00 the following day, the moment we dreamed of arrived.  We were not taking home a perfectly healed baby, but we were taking home OUR baby...one of God's most precious gifts!

Going Home!

Let our new journey begin......

The Moment of Truth...Our Lynley's Birth

I'd love to say that, after the tumultuous pregnancy we had had, the birth was uneventful.  I simply can't say that!  It was FAR from uneventful...

As I mentioned, my regular OBGYN was not in town for this birth.  That in itself made the night uneasy.  I needed familiarity, and he was supposed to be there for the scheduled induction the following Friday.  Our sweet Lynley wasn't about to wait until then.  She was ready to make her entrance into this world now.

Let's just say that after the epidural fiasco during Harrison's birth, I was beyond nervous about effect of this one.  They made me wait a LONG and PAINFUL hour before they gave me one.  Even after the epidural, I was ONCE AGAIN in major pain.  One side of my body (the opposite side than with Harrison) went a little numb, but I had full feeling in the other side.  I also felt a lot of pressure and wanted to push, but trying to convince someone that the epidural didn't work fully and that I thought I was ready to deliver was about as fruitful as the last time I tried it.  At this point in time, you'd think your husband would be your biggest supporter, but that would be other people's husbands....not mine.  When a medical professional says something, then that's the law.  Bear in mind that I'M the one about to birth this child!!!!!  God love him!!!! 

After giving me the epidural, they asked me to wait 20 minutes to feel the effect and they would check me again at that point.  I tried to convince ANYONE I could that I was about to deliver this baby.  Here's where my husband lost his candidacy for "husband of the year."  When I tried to tell him that I was still in mucho pain and that this baby was coming, like it or not, he told me (lovingly, of course) to "put my legs together and wait 20 minutes like the nurse said."  Had it not been for some friends in the room who actually believed I wasn't kidding and got the nurses ASAP, I would have delivered that baby right then and there without medical care.  Miss Lynley Morgan Pierce came at 12:47 A.M. (before the 20 minutes were up, by the way).

The birth was painful (that's all I'll say), but a few minutes later, I was holding perfection in my arms.  She stole her mommy's heart at that minute and she's had it ever since.  She did have a heart defect and Down's Syndrome, but she was absolutely perfect.

I got to hold her all of about 15 minutes before they wisked her away for tests and monitoring.   They took her to the NICU which I have nicknamed, "prison" (because it takes MANY heartfelt appeals to get out of that place).  I ached to hold that baby and to have her in the room with me.  I felt like they had ripped that baby out of me and taken her away.  I needed to talk to her and comfort her.  That's my job as her mommy.  Instead, she was floors and a half of the hospital away from me!

As the night wore on, my pain became absolutely unbearable.  Of course, after delivery, you expect to be in pain, but this pain was more than I could take (and I consider myself pretty tolerable of pain).  I know only having one prior birth under my belt hardly qualifies me as an expert, but I KNEW something was seriously wrong here.  When I began biting the bedpost (I'm NOT kidding) from extreme pain, the doctor (not mine, remember) came in the room and ordered morphine for me after they had tried various other things.  As they pumped 12 FULL doses in me in about 10 minute segments and there was NO relief, my husband and I got extremely worried.  The doctor told me that I should feel better shortly, because he gave me enough morphine to "kill a horse."  Really?  They kept checking me for all sorts of things, but no one could give a reason for the pain.  Panic set in on Jason (I would reconsider him for husband of the year now) and he had a nice, firm, come to Jesus talk with the doctor. I wasn't in on it, but it proved effective.  They checked me one more time, and within minutes, a swarm of nurses came flooding into my room to prep me for emergency surgery.  They had found a hematoma.  The only thing I remember after that point is my husband squeezing me with all his might and love and my short conversation with a nurse.  I asked her if I was going to be okay.  She looked at another nurse and asked her how to respond to my question because she wasn't sure I would make it.  I cannot put into words my feelings at that point.  I was in pain, away from BOTH of my precious children, and this may be my last few breaths on this earth....

  



 


 


 



 


 

 

Drawing Near

There were ups and downs with each doctor's appointment.  Some were positive as it looked like the hole in her heart was shrinking.  They told us there was a chance (not a big one, but a chance) that the hole would close up on its own either before birth or during her first year.  She was growing at a little below normal rate.  All of that was encouraging and something to cling to.  Then, there were the not-so-positive appointments where her hole was as dominant as ever, and her femur and arm bones were shorter than normal (one of the signs of Down's Syndrome). With each appointment, I tried to take them at face value.  There was really no way of knowing the reality of the situation until she arrived.  That was hard!  It is easier to deal with things when you have all of the facts, but, when it is all a guessing game, you have nothing concrete to hold on to.  I loved this little girl.  I believed in the beautiful life of this little girl.  I was going to be her number one fan, no matter what.  That was what kept me going each day. 

I have to be truthful.  I wasn't ready for her birth.  I knew as soon as she was born, our lives would change forever.  I didn't think I was ready for that.  As long as she was "in the oven," I could believe that everything was just fine, and that's what I did.  I spent each day praying fervently that God would completely heal my baby.   I didn't just sort of believe it....I believed it with my COMPLETE being (heart, soul, mind, and strength).  It may sound silly or like I was trying to avoid the truth, but healing was possible.  Yes, I knew that I could be setting myself up for a great fall once she came into this world, but this is how I had cope.  I dreamed of the moment after her birth when the doctor told me that my baby was perfectly healthy in every way!  There is absolutely nothing wrong with heart patients or individuals with Down's Syndrome.  That's just not what I wanted.  I know that sounds very selfish and harsh, but it's real, friends!  If that's the path chosen for me, then I would deal with it at the birth.  Until then, I was going to believe, believe, believe....

My last day teaching was the day we got out for Christmas break. I had a little less than a month before the due date.  That would give me a little rest time (if that is possible with a five year old) before being the mother of two.  I enjoyed taking Harrison to preschool and picking him up.  Those are mommy luxuries that I missed while teaching.  I was able to do the final details to prepare for Lynley's arrival.  I was scheduled for an induction on Friday, January 26, 2012 (one week before my due date).

On January 19, 2012, I had just cooked dinner (country style ribs, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese...how's that for a good memory) when Jason got home.  He was actually out looking at new vans.  We knew we were going to need more space, so we were looking to get a van. (I actually NEVER thought I would be a mini van mom, but it was looking that way.) We sat down to a normal dinner and everything was as it was every night.  As pregnant women do often, I had to go to the bathroom.  It was then and there that my water broke.  Don't worry...I'm not going to share details other than to say that, since I had never experienced this part on my own, I had to figure out what was going on.  Just saying...

We got the care in place for Harrison and we were on our way to Birmingham to have Lynley Morgan Pierce, the angel that was about to enter this world.  I wish I could describe in words what is was like to have contractions (which is painful) while praying with every fiber of my being that my husband (God love him) would not kill us in his pursuit of getting to Birmingham in record time.  I haven't officially checked the record on that, but I'm pretty sure we broke it.  Can I say East Gadsden to Birmingham in 37 minutes?  Dear Gussey!!

When we arrived in one piece, I was thankful, but also in tremendous pain.  The birth was coming and my regular doctor was out of town...

The Not-So-Welcome Distraction

Even though we had gotten the news that our unborn baby should make it, it is still very hard to forget the possibilities you've been told.  You can't just hear from a doctor that your baby could die and then forget it immediately.  I lived in fear for this baby.  I was pretty much scared of what was going to happen, what could happen, and what probably wouldn't happen.  This mommy was scared....period!

After hearing the news and giving myself several days to process it, I decided it was time to go back to work.  It was an extremely hard day for me.  Even though I was dying inside, I had a class full of students who needed me, and I was determined to be the best I could for them.  I have wonderful coworkers.  They assured me that if things got too rough, they would cover for me at any time...no questions asked!  I took everything within me to get through the first few days back, but, with God's help and A LOT of prayers, I made it.  I would love to say that each day got easier, but it's just not true.  I'm sad to say that I learned how to "fake" happiness at times.  I had a smile on my face, but inside I was hurting!  That may sound dramatic, but my world was truly turned upside down.  I know that the diagnosis was not the end of the world, but, at times, it seemed like it.  It's just not the dream I had for my life (just being real).

On Wednesday of the very next week, as if the previous week wasn't bad enough, I woke up with a terribly, horrible pain in my side.  To say that it scared us to death would be an understatement.  Of course, we called the doctor as soon as they opened and they told us to come to the office immediately.  After bloodwork, ultrasound, and exam, I was told that my baby was fine (thank goodness) but that I had KIDNEY STONES!  Are you kidding me?  I just could not catch a break...at all!  In a few days, hopefully they would be gone.  I went home and began drinking more water than any human being should EVER have to drink (and I like water).  Maybe if I didn't float away first , they would be gone in a short time.  Thankfully, in a little over two days, the pain subsided.  I'm kind of thinking that God allowed the kidney stones to take my mind off of the "situation" for the time being!  Not exactly how I would have preferred to be distracted!!!!!

At each doctor's appointment, an ultrasound was done.  I guess that was one bright light in the darkness.  We got to see our sweet thing each time we went.  I brought a lot of anxiety and fear with each appointment.  What else would they find?  Would things get worse?  At our very next appointment one week later, our girl did something remarkable....

Yes...that is a sonogram picture of our girl giving us the "thumbs up" sign to let us know everything is going to be alright!  Wow...already an encourager!  I have to say that this lifted my spirits.  It's the little things.

I was still anxious over the situation and got nervous with each doctor's appointment, but I was praying (like I had never prayed before) for healing.

Will I Ever Smile Again?

The next few days were a complete blur. I NEVER dreamed, after all we had been through with infertility and IVF, that I would be HOPING that my sweet, unborn baby had Down's Syndrome.  If that doctor was right, that is the only option that would allow my baby girl to live.  There was about a 2 in 3 chance that we would get a phone call informing us that this baby, that we hoped for, prayed for, and loved deeply, would not live to meet us.  That, my friends, is TOTAL despair.  This is not the dream you have growing up, and I went through every emotion possible!  I was angry that we had paid money for this.  I know that sounds harsh, but I'm just being totally real.  I was hurt watching watching happy families with healthy children go on living their lives.  I was sad, because this was our new reality.  This was our life...like it or not.  Would a true smile ever cross my face again?  I called out through sleepless nights (I mean NO sleep whatsoever for days) to God to save this precious girl.  My full time job for the next few days was finding the strength to put one foot in front of the other, and, only by God's grace did that happen!  That's not what I wanted to do.  I would have fully chosen to dig a hole in my backyard and bury myself in it.  That seemed so much easier than facing this reality over and over throughout the day.  I am thankful (SO thankful) that for these few days of misery, I had a bright-eyed, healthy, precious son to keep me going.  Had it not been for him, I'm afraid the hole in my backyard would have happened.

Needless to say, I took the rest of the week off from teaching.  There was no way I could face people at all. I did my absolute best to function and be a mommy the best I could under the circumstances.  Jason and I talked about things very little over that 48 hours.   I think we both needed time to process everything (not that I think it is ever fully "processable").  Like me, he did his best to make it through each day. 

I had made my mind up that, when the inevitable phone call came from the doctor, I would not be the one to answer it.  For one thing, I might say something that I regretted for putting me through this misery, and, also, I just couldn't handle it!

The phone call came a little after 3:00 on that Friday afternoon.  As soon as Jason answered it, I left the room.  I didn't even want to hear his end of the conversation.  I did, however, hear him hang up and head in my direction.  He grabbed my hands (Oh, no!) and told me that the preliminary tests showed that our baby had Down's Syndrome with a pretty severe heart defect (that we would know more about through time).  There it was...THE news!  I remember very little, but I do remember falling to my knees sobbing!  On one hand, I was relieved that, more than likely, my baby girl would make it.  On the other hand, she wasn't fine.  She had huge obstacles to overcome in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.  As a mommy, you want to "fix" everything when it comes to your child.  You would gladly take on any pain if it meant the pain would be taken from them.  This was something I could not fix....not the Down's Syndrome and not the heart defect. 

Jason and I handle things VERY differently (and for those of you who know us, you KNOW that's true).  At the moment we got the news, he was very black and white about things.  He was ready, right then and there, to find out what we needed to do with little emotion involved.  I, on the other hand, made a decision that week to believe.  It's what I needed to survive.  I was ready to believe (with all my heart you will find out) that my baby was FINE or could be totally healed in the next four months.  I don't consider it living in the clouds (as Jason sometimes called it).  It was what I could do for this precious baby.  Someone had to believe FULLY in her, and who better to do that than her mommy?  I didn't forget (or ignore) the news we were delivered, but I needed to believe...which became my full time job!

A Day I will NEVER forget (but would like to)...

Disclaimer....Before I even start this post, I want to say that one of the hardest things I have ever had to do is write this as it makes me remember every part of the day that changed our lives forever.  It is written as a human mommy with human feelings and emotions....

We only told a very few people about our appointment with the Maternal Fetal Medicine clinic.  After all, there was only a 10% chance that something was "wrong", so why alert the media?  It was a long 48 hour wait to get to the appointment, not necessarily because we were scared, but because we were just waiting to finally hear the all clear report and celebrate this little girl we had prayed forever for.  Unfortunately, we never got that all clear...

As we sat in the waiting room, we did our best to be upbeat.  Thankfully, we didn't have to wait long.  They called us back to this pretty dark room (that ought to have been a sign) with a machine much larger than any I had ever seen.  When they said they would be doing a very detailed ultrasound, I believed them.  As I laid there waiting to begin, I couldn't help but think that a place like this would be perfect for the next Lifetime movie.  The extremely friendly (to begin with) nurse ultrasound technician began by looking at our baby girl part at a time.  There is no body part that was not covered in this ultrasound.  Since I had gotten pretty good at reading an ultrasound technician's facial expressions through the years, I did my best to try to read her.  She was very informative at first, showing us her pretty head, eyes, nose, mouth, etc... The longer the ultrasound lasted, the less friendly and informative the nurse became.  I tried to remain as positive as I could, but she just wasn't telling us anything.  She moved on to our sweet girl's middle section and lower section and that horrible, nagging feeling came back.  After about 45 minutes, the ultrasound was complete. She told us the doctor would read all the information, look at all the pictures, and would be in to talk to us "in a little bit."  In totally me character, I asked her if everything was okay.  She informed us that she couldn't give us any information other than our girl did not have cleft palette.  Alrighty, then.  Thanks for your wealth of knowledge and for calming my nerves completely!!!! So, the wait began.  Our lives were about to be forever changed....

Throughout this time, I'm not sure if Jason ever let go of my hand...God love him!  I'm thankful that the hand that was holding me right now was the hand of a husband who would be there through thick and thin.  I was about to need him by my side like I never had before.

The doctor came in.  I know he doesn't have the easiest of jobs.  More often than not, he has to deliver devastating news.  It was very apparent that he had become cold and numb to human feelings.  Over the next few minutes he told us what no parent should EVER have to hear.  Three things were possible for our unborn baby...1) She would die in the next few weeks from a chromosomal defect; 2) She would die at birth due to a chromosomal defect; or 3) She would have Down's Syndrome.  He told us he couldn't be sure until an amniocentesis was performed.  Before they could do that, they needed our permission and they needed to do it immediately.  My head was completely spinning.  Not only did they just deliver us news I truly needed to process, they wanted me to do a spur-of-the-moment amnio???? Had I been in my right frame of mind, I would have never allowed them to do the procedure.  I think we were willing to do AYTHING to get out of there.  I found out as they were performing the amnio, that, not only would it be painful (and it was), but there was a risk to my baby, too.  Really?  You have just delivered horrible news and now you want to potentially harm my baby?  Like I said, I was not thinking clearly, so they did the test.  It was awful, but the devastated look on my husband's face during it all was more than I could take. I lost it COMPLETELY!

After the procedure, he wanted to talk to us a little more.  He told us that he would call us within 48 hours to tell us which of the three options we were dealing with. Also, he informed us that our baby girl had a pretty bad heart defect that could possibly be fatal.  If our baby lived (and he made sure we understood that that was a BIG if), we would be facing open heart surgery.  The day just kept getting darker and darker. Then, he asked us if someone had mentioned doing a chromosomal test at the beginning of the pregnancy.  We told him that it had been mentioned to us, but that we declined.  As if up until now had not been enough, he informed us that, if we had had that test weeks ago, we could have gotten rid of this baby.  It was at this point that I told the man to quit talking and that we were going home.  It was either that, or strike him in the face with all the force this mommy could muster. The second option seemed like a REALLY good idea, but I restrained.  All I needed on top of all this was a mugshot and jail sentence (even though the news felt like one).

I honestly do not remember leaving that building, but I do remember our drive home.  I have never seen my husband fall apart like I saw then.  We were both screaming and sobbing uncontrollably, and how we got safely home is only by the grace of God.  There was a very good chance we were going to lose this precious gift, and I just couldn't bear the thought of that.  No parent should have to hear that their baby, whom they prayed fervently for, would probably not live.

The next 48 hours were the most painful of my ENTIRE life (and that is not an exaggeration).  For two days, two loving parents were going to be staring at a scary reality...

That Nagging Feeling

You know that nagging feeling you get when something is just not right?  Well, I was experiencing it A LOT!  I chalked it up to the loss we had just suffered of losing one of our twins.  Tried as I may, I just couldn't shake it.  If you know me at all, you know that I can worry about things to death (not extremely proud of that...just being completely honest).  As hard as I try to not let things get to me, I just end up fretting about things...both insignificant (that's what it is most of the time) and true dilemmas.  If you'll let me, I'll talk about a subject over and over until I've beat the poor subject to death at least five times.  I know some of you are smiling right now, because you have been the person on the other end of a "talk" with me...bless your heart!

In this case, though, I was pretty closed mouth about my concerns.  I think deep down I thought that if I didn't give my worries about this sweet baby a voice, then maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out just fine.  That is until one Wednesday night at church during choir practice....

It was the Wednesday night before we were to find out the gender of our baby on Monday.  This particular choir rehearsal started out like any other. We began taking prayer requests at the beginning, but then God took over.  I'm not sure we sang one note the entire time.  People began to share things that were on their hearts.  After each person spoke their story or request, we would pray specifically for each situation.  Person after person spoke up.  Prayer after prayer was lifted. 

Then and there in that choir practice, the nagging feeling welled up with a vengeance.  For the first time out loud, I shared my concerns that something was just "not right" with my precious unborn baby.  With more tears than I had shed in quite a while, I spoke all my heartfelt fears.  A special prayer was said over me, and I believe with all my heart that that choir practice was orchestrated just for me. 

I would like to say that all my fears and concern went away, but they didn't.  However, I knew God was in this with me, right by my side.  Let me say a big "thank goodness"!

On that next Monday in the middle of September (September 12, to be exact), we went to my next appointment to find out our baby's sex.  I was so excited and nervous at the same time.  We did not have to wait long and were called back for the ultrasound.  This was the first time to see our baby in a few months, so the first glimpse was awesome.  There SHE was...our little baby GIRL.  Tears welled up and began flowing down my face.  It seemed as if all my dreams were coming true and it felt good...for just a couple of minutes.  The ultrasound technician took a good look at all of little girl and measured everything she could measure.  As we (Jason and I) were celebrating the thought of having a girl, things started to go way wrong.  The technician didn't say anything was wrong, but it was the look I saw on her face that I will absolutely NEVER forget.  Something WAS wrong.  I could tell.

She gave us sweet pictures of our baby girl and told us what room to go in to wait on the doctor...all the routine stuff.  Jason and I are used to waiting on doctors to join us in a room (after all, we'd spent many hours in doctor's offices over the years), but this wait was different.  It took Dr. Stone a long time to come in to see us.  The nagging feeling was there stronger than ever.  Jason and I tried really hard to talk about the joy of finding out we were having a girl, but there was a HUGE elephant in the room.  Something was just not right.

After what seemed like ages, Dr. Stone came in.  He told us all of the good things they saw in the ultrasound.  Then, he said it.  He told us that the ultrasound tech had measured the skin on the back of our baby's neck, and it was measuring 1mm more than it should (one MILLIMETER).  He assured us that, as far as they knew, everything else looked fine.  Just to be sure, he was referring us a Maternal Fetal Medicine doctor for an in depth ultrasound.  He told us that he was pretty sure it would turn out to be nothing, but there was about a 10% chance that something could be wrong.  He said all the right things to try to calm our nerves about it, but the nagging feeling was there shouting as loudly as ever.

As tradition has it, after we find out the sex of our babies, we go to Babies R Us to buy our first pink or blue.  (I'm not sure you could call this a tradition since this was only our second baby, but...)  After making an appointment to have our complete ultrasound at the Maternal Fetal Medicine for Wednesday afternoon, we drove over to Babies R Us.  What should have been a fun time of celebration was pretty somber.  We tried to be upbeat about all the pink we looked at, but agreed we both just felt like leaving (without any pink). 

As it turned out, forty-eight hours later, we experienced a parent's WORST nightmare.....

A Pain Like No Other!

In the week that passed from one ultrasound to the next, I tried everything in my power to will both of those beautiful babies to live and thrive!

We went the following week to our next ultrasound.  It was every parent's worst fear...baby "A" was growing right on schedule and baby "B" was more than just a little behind.  As we met with the doctor after the ultrasound, she informed us that we were losing one of our precious little ones.  In the weekly ultrasounds to follow, we would watch baby "B" get smaller and smaller and finally just "vanish."  In all we had been through to this point, I thought we had experienced every kind of heartache and emotion possible as far as babies were concerned.  I was wrong!  This was a hurt like no other that ran VERY deep.  As I type these words, the pain and heartache is still there.  I still have tears that come to my eyes at the thought or mention of our sweet baby.  To this day, my husband cannot talk about it.  It hurt him in a way that I have never seen.  In theory, it should have helped us that we still had one healthy baby.  Yes, we were overjoyed at the fact that baby "A" was doing well, but a miscarriage is a miscarriage.  It hurts to the core of a mommy's being....and still does.

To make matters worse, we had to go to back to the doctor's office weekly for the next few weeks.  What should have been a joyous time was dampened by having to watch our baby get smaller and smaller each week.  By the end of our time at the infertility doctor, all that was left of our miracle was an empty sac.  Talk about heart wrenching....

I'll be completely honest, it took us a little while to get over our loss. After all, we had prayed for this miracle and had been overcome with joy (and shock) at the news of twins.  Now, we had to, once again, pick ourselves up and get back in the game.  We had a three-year-old and baby "A" who needed us!  It took a few months for the hole in our hearts to begin to fill up. The pain never went away, but excitement about our thriving new addition was becoming our focus.

In a few short weeks, we would find out the gender of our baby (and SO much more)....

Without a Hitch

For the first time ever, retrieval day and transfer day went along without a hitch.  They retrieved 18 eggs (the thought of that scared Jason Pierce to death).  We got our nursery updates and by transfer day, once again, we only had two to mature.  Those two, however, looked "very promising."  I held onto the picture of my two "babies" for the two week wait for the pregnancy test.

As the days passed right after the transfer, I did my part by relaxing as much as I could and hanging upside down for lengthy amounts of time (for optimal results).  Yes, I really did hang upside down!!!!  I have no idea if any of that helps, but we had a lot at stake here so I was not going to look back with any regrets!  With each passing day, I looked for ANY signs of being pregnant and I felt nothing! Of course, in the first few weeks of pregnancy, most people don't even know they are pregnant yet!!!!  I rubbed my belly, sang songs, and every motherly thing I could think of to keep those sweet babies comfortable so they would stay!  By the way, two weeks is a LONG time to wait!

The last day of school that year was pregnancy test day. I tried everything I could think of to stay positive.   That was easier said than done, because I had experienced the pain of finding out it didn't work.  I just didn't know if I could endure that pain again. 

I had not gotten back to school 30 minutes when I got the phone call.....I was PREGNANT and it WORKED!  Elated is not a big enough word for the way we felt.  They told me my numbers and they were extremely high (which could be a sign of multiples).  Although that freaked me out, I knew I was ready for any blessing God granted the Pierce family.  It was a great day, and I'm pretty sure I didn't stop smiling at all!

In about two weeks, we went for the first ultrasound.  There they were...beautiful TWINS.  Yes, it was a shock (more for daddy than for mommy), but we were somewhat prepared for the news.  They were the most beautiful pieces of "rice" I had seen (that was about their size).  We got our first official pictures of baby "A" and baby "B" and I carried them with me everywhere I went.  It seemed that all of our hard work had paid off in the most exciting way!

During the first 10 weeks of pregnancy, we remained with the infertility doctor and had weekly visits to see our little pieces of heaven.  On our next visit, I saw that oh-so-familiar face on the ultrasound technician's face.  It was a face that tried to smile while figuring out how to share some disturbing news.  As I looked on the screen beside me, I began to see what she was concerned about...one baby was growing right on schedule while baby "B" was lagging behind.  They tried to reassure us that it is somewhat typical for twins to vary in growth.  It isn't that uncommon to see this.  Although they gave their very best efforts to reassure us and encourage us, I had a horrible "mommy" feeling. (It would turn out to be the first of MANY uncomfortable "mommy" feelings, unfortunately).  They told us not to worry and to come back in a week to have the next ultrasound.  I tried my very best to think positive thoughts over the next week, and even began believing them when they said that this was typical.  After all, we had worked hard to get here and these were happy times.  Right?????????