We had a #3

Jocelyn and Ivy have a new sister who is now 2 1/2 months old.
Meet Amelia

I love this little girl. She saved me in so many ways I can't even share publicly. I was headed down some scary back roads and she came at EXACTLY the right time, unplanned and unexpected. She got me back on track for my first priority - motherhood. She let me run. I needed that. Eight hundred and ninety three miles under this little girls feet before she was born. Three half-marathons. And she came out absolutely perfect. It's heaven attending to just one baby. I never had the luxury of relaxing and just holding my baby with the twins. It was always task-oriented. Nurse, diaper change, pump, bottle-feed, diaper change, swaddle, rock, nap, dishes, soothe, bounce, nurse, nap, diaper change. With her, I can enjoy the time. I feel like its a reward for making it through twins, that Heavenly Father is saying to me, "See? Having babies isn't always hard. It can be enjoyable."

The girls love her. 

 Her daddy loves her.

She is a most welcome addition to our family. 

Labor Day!

I realized that I never wrote about the birth of the twins so now I'm going to try and journal what I can. This is a LOOONG post and since it's a record of my entire experience about their birth, I'm not expecting anyone to read the length of it :) Here goes.

I discovered when their birth-day was going to be only a couple of days before it arrived. On Wednesday February 24th at my weekly doctors appointment, my OB, Dr. Lunt, announced that I and the babies were ready for a C-section if I desired it. The reason it was going to be a C-section is that although Little Miss A (Jocelyn) was head down,  Little Miss B (Ivy) was transverse (sideways). Dr. Lunt's feelings and experience with twin births was that if both were not head down, that it was better not to chance and "hope" that she'd move into a head-down position after Baby A was delivered, with the result of that NOT happening being an emergency C-section on top of labor with the first. I wholeheartedly agreed with him. As far as a scheduled C-section, I had mixed feelings because I wanted them to stay in and get the most time they could to develop, but I was also extremely uncomfortable and had been for months. I wasn't sleeping well, my ribs and sternum hurt all the time, the balls of my feet felt like they were going to poke through the soles of my feet if I stood or walked for long, the heartburn was miserable, my legs and ankles were swollen and tight and none of my shoes fit me, and my stomach was growing longer than my arms could reach. I was really really big. I told Dr. Lunt that if he thought the babies were ready, I was ready! He gave me two options. Either the following Tuesday, March 2nd, or in just two days, Friday, February 26th. After all of my wishing to get it over with, two days seemed awfully soon. I considered the later date but I felt that since my triplet siblings birthday fell on March 1st, March 2nd would be too close to that. Also March 2nd would give me a whole-nother week to worry about the c-section. So I chose Friday February 26th. And then I panicked. The nursery wasn't done. The baby clothes weren't pre-washed. I needed to finish packing my hospital bag and stock up on freezer meals and get preemie-sized diapers and ... and ... and ... break the news to Kyle.

After my appointment I immedietely called Kyle and told him. He sounded very surprised it would be so soon. But I heard excitement in his voice too. We prepared and tried to get as much sleep as possible. We were told to be at the hospital at 6:00 am on the 26th.

The night before the c-section, I made Kyle paint my toenails pink (hey I wanted the only part of my body I'd have un-bandanged to be KIND of pretty) and then we went out on one more date. Well, we just went to dinner actually. I was hardly dating material. Brick Oven Pizza. Several people in the restaurant asked when I was having my baby (being a twin mom with a HUMONGO-belly, you often get stares and questions). I looked at the clock and told them the babIES would be here in just ten hours. I suddenly became the dining room novelty and word spread that the pregnant-twin-mom was enjoying her last meal. Lots of "congratulations" and "good lucks" were offered. And we got nearly free meals. I tried to eat all I could knowing that I wouldn't be able to eat after midnight and that it might be days before I ate my next regular meal. We went home and tried to sleep. But I had that excited feeling that you get as a kid trying to fall asleep on Christmas Eve. I've never had such a mix of emotions as I did laying in bed that night. I was relieved the pregnancy had been complication-free, sad that it was almost over, scared of the soon-to-be pain, apprehensive at the slight possibility of something going wrong, and soooo nervous to meet my two daughters! I imagined them up in heaven getting ready to be "sent." (Did you ever see Saturday's Warrior?)

I slept lightly and was awake instantly when the alarm clock went off at 5:00 am. I immediately began trembling from nerves. I showered, dressed, and jealously watched Kyle eat a bowl of cereal. Soon we were on our way to DRMC.

I was hooked up to monitors immediately upon arriving. They watched the girls heart rates and movements for about an hour. I was still trembling. Dr. Lunt came in and gave us some basic instructions and checked me. When they started wheeling me down the hall, I really started shaking hard. When I get really stressed, I kind of shut down emotionally. I'm quiet, withdrawn, expressionless, and remain as still as I can. To an outsider I would seem almost calm. The shaking gave it away this time though. I passed my reflection in a door and my lips were blue. I looked at my feet and they were blue. They wheeled me into the Operating Room. Kyle had to stay outside of  the door while they gave me the epidural/block. Many masked and robed people turned toward the door to watch me enter. Were they all really here this early in the morning for me? My head was bobbing, my shoulders shaking, my jaw chattering. A nurse asked if I was cold. I didn't reply. I was afraid I'd cry. She got some warm blankets and wrapped them around me. It felt good but I still shook. The anesthesiologist introduced himself. I just nodded at him. He looked too young to know what he was doing. Maybe 30? I watched nurses scrub scrub scrub at the sink. I watched the anesthesiologist pull tubes and calibrate an enormous machine behind me. Everything was scary. They needed to move me from the wheeled stretcher to the operating table. All helped lift. At 171 lbs, all needed to help lift! The anesthesiologist said he was almost ready to give me the spinal block.

At this point, I was a complete basket-case, the most out-of-my-mind scared that I'd ever been or would be for the entire birth. I was almost convulsing in terror but I was still quiet and holding onto the tears. I didn't really know what I was afraid of but mostly it was the unknown. And being extremely nervous to meet my girls. There was a CD player in the room and a nurse turned on some background music. The first song spilled my tears. It was soft and sweet and about a baby. I looked out the window in front of me, which faced east, and saw that the sun was just beginning to rise. The sky was gold and rose and absolutely gorgeous. I tried blinking and hiding the tears but one of the nurses saw and stood close to me and held my hands. I was so embarassed to cry but I was so overwhelmed. The anesthesiologist instructed me to turn and sit on the side of the bed and bend forward a little. They said the first shot would be just to numb the site. Then they'd give the spinal shot but I shouldn't feel it. My gown was pulled aside. I felt a tiny prick. Less painful than an IV in the hand. Not bad. They tested to see if the site was numb. It was. They gave me the spinal and I didn't feel a thing. Wonderful. They started to lay me down but by the time I was supposed to put my legs up on the table, they were completely numb and dumb. I think someone lifted them up. Then it felt like I'd died and gone to heaven because I couldn't feel anything from the chest down. All that slow-building pain and discomfort from the last 8 months was just GONE! Doctors started talking to each other, nurses started bustling around, there was good noise. I stopped shaking and started smiling. They put up a sheet at the waistline.

The anesthesiologist stood behind me and watched my heart rate. He asked how old I was. I told him 27. He commented that he thought I was younger than that. Dr. Lunt said "I know, right? Like not a day past 19?" If I wasn't laying on a table half-naked with swollen ankles, it would have almost been a compliment. A minute later, looking at the screen, the anesthesiologist asked if I ran. I told him I used to run but I hadn't for a few months. He mentioned that my heart rate was uncommonly low and stable, which was very very good. I did feel a lot calmer and was happy that my body was responding well.

I was finished being prepped and Kyle was allowed to enter. He peeked over the sheet as they made the cut. His eyes got wide for a minute but he had a big smile. Kyle started telling me what they were doing. "Water!" the doctor said. "Oh a lot of water!" Kyle said. I felt my body shift a bit and then I heard a tiny tiny cry. "A girl!" the doctor announced. "Oh she's little and gray!" Kyle said. "Now the doctor is trying to get the second one." I felt my body move a little more. A minute passed. Another little cry. "A girl!" the doctor said. I heard water running in another room and suction at the foot of my bed. I saw a nurse approaching me from the side with two tiny bundles. My first thought was that she'd brought me porcelain dolls. The faces were so so tiny, their eyes closed, their bodies so still. I barely had time to look and they were whisked away. Dr. Lunt finished stitching me up and I was wheeled to recovery.

Both babies passed the tests they needed to (though Ivy needed a bit of encouragement breathing at first), and were cleared. That meant no NICU time! I was so happy! They brought me my babies and I immediately scooted to a sitting position and started trying to breastfeed them. Breastfeeding them was one of my major goals, and I kept remembering how important it was to get them to the breast right away. I sat admiring their tiny noses and lips and fingers. I didn't feel anything physical, only emotions. Time didn't exist.

I have no idea how long I was there or how I got up to my room. I don't remember much of the rest of that day. The girls were in and out for lots of tests: hearing tests and bilirubin tests and blood sugar. I was ravenous once the c-section meds wore off. Every time the nurses asked me if I wanted something to eat, I said yes. My bedside table was covered with graham crackers, yogurt containers, fruit bowls, cups, and anything else they'd bring me. Another result of the meds wearing off was the pain I started to feel in my abdomon. I refused to take any prescription-strength painkillers such as the Lauratab that I was prescribed because of the feelings of loopiness and nausea that I tend to get along with them. (I'd rather be in a bit of pain than feel icky in the head and tummy.) So I took Motrin instead. The Motrin wasn't too effective at killing the pain and I struggled getting in and out of bed to take my required walks around the floor. On the second day I forgot to take the Motrin at my scheduled time and I almost passed out while trying to take a walk down the hall and back. They had to grab a wheelchair and wheel me back. I was really embarassed and mad at my body for being so weak and I cried because I was mad. Since I've never had problems with recovering from anything before, I guess I just expected too much too fast. I had to be reminded by the nurses, Kyle, and my Mom that I'd just had a major surgery and needed to keep taking my pain meds and take it easy.

ABOUT NURSING
I knew before I even had the girls that I was going to put every single bit of energy and effort into breastfeeding them. I knew from accounts from other moms that it would be very painful, time consuming, and frustrating at first but I didn't care about that. I knew that as long as I was physically able to, I was going to do it. I wanted them to get the antibodies and immunities that weren't in formula, especially being premature and so weak. 

The nurses told me that my attempt to breastfeed them was fine but that their blood sugar needed to stay above a certain level or a formula supplement would be needed. (I found that one drawback to having the babies on a Friday is that there isn't a Lactation Consultant at the hospital on the weekends. An LC to help me out with all this would have been wonderful! I was kind of on my own. I kept asking the nurses questions but they all seemed to have different answers) At the nurses instruction, me and Kyle began keeping a log of when we fed them and how long they ate for. To get enough milk, the nurses said that the girls needed to have a good 10 or 15 minute feeding session. Both babies were very sleepy and wouldn't suck continuously. They'd suck for a minute and then stop and sleep for a minute and then suck again. I was confused at whether they were getting enough to eat or not and exactly how long a feeding was lasting. Ivy was struggled the most. She wouldn't latch very well, her suck was too weak to get the flow going and as a result she wasn't getting a very good intake. I tried the shield and that just made it more difficult for her because she wasn't getting the milk right away (she had to suck the milk into the shield and then suck it from the shield). Before she left on Friday, the LC helped me rig up an SNS or Supplemental Nursing System. Basically Ivy would "nurse" directly from my breast but a very tiny tube was inserted into the corner of her mouth, right between her lips and my chest. When she sucked, I pushed milk from a syringe through the tube into her mouth. When she didn't suck, I stopped pushing milk. This was supposed to nourish her but also keep her at the breast and teach her that sucking brought her milk. The hope was that as she got stronger and her suck improved, we'd take away the tube and she'd nurse more efficiently.

While learning to nurse, I got frustrated with the nurses a couple of times. Once was when one of the nurses came into the room and told me that the girls had finished their bilirubin test and were now "eating" but would be back to the room soon. I was alarmed and told her that I was trying to nurse them and that I needed to feed them. She looked a little annoyed but went out, then came back and said they'd already had a little formula but she'd stopped the feeding and would be returning the babies shortly so I could finish feeding them. Another time I got upset was when I'd painstakingly, with the hospital pump, pumped several mL of colostum to feed the girls and then, after the feeding, the nurse dumped the excess that the babies didn't drink down the sink instead of keeping it for later. Waaaahhh! Looking back now, I was a new Mom and didn't know that A) I could tell the nurses what to do or not to do with my babies B) the nurses weren't responsible or even obligated to help me learn to breastfeed. With that going and between feeding both babies and tests and visitors, me and Kyle got very little rest. We returned home Sunday afternoon exhausted.

The end result of the nursing effort? Jocelyn learned to breastfeed well by the second week and is still nursing at just over a year old. Ivy struggled and struggled. In the beginning, I kept in touch with the LC by phone. She encouraged me to keep trying and practicing at every feed. So at every single feeding, 8-12 times a day, we practiced. I'd patiently help her try to latch. After 10-15 frustrating minutes of her getting hungrier and angrier, I'd pump the milk for her and feed it to her via SNS or bottle. She cried a LOT! I was sure that if I kept trying at EVERY feeding like the LC said, she would eventually learn. After a couple of weeks she wasn't improving. I was really frustrated but I refused to give up. Before I started trying to breastfeed, I knew that I was going to get frustrated and want to give up. So still we tried.  Almost a month passed. I began to notice that Ivy would cry and try to arch away from me everytime I picked her up. She didn't like me. She knew that I was going to try and force feed her. And I realized that I was, honestly,  starting to not like her because she couldn't "get it." So I decided to give up the attempts to nurse her directly. However, I still wanted her to get the benefits of breastmilk. And I had no problem with milk supply; my freezer was by this time stocked with almost 300 oz of it. I'd just have to pump it for her. And I pumped milk for her for almost 10 months. It was a big commitment and I have absolutely no regrets because I gave it my 110 %. In fact, I can safely say its the most effort I have given any one thing in my entire life. Pumping milk was very painful and extremely patience-trying. Instead of doing somthing for myself for that time allotment like I could have done by just giving up and resorting to formula, I gave her the very best I could. I'm very proud of myself for sticking with it. I could have given up. I think had I not been so resolved before their birth, I would have. It was.... similar to.... a very difficult hike. Because I'd already started on the path, I didn't feel like it was an option to give up. I mean, I couldn't just stop and sit on the side of the trail and wait for search-and-rescue to come and get me just becase my legs were tired, my feet hurt, and I didn't want to carry my pack anymore. I had to make goals for the next landmark and then pace myself. "Get to one month. The LC said she will get better at nursing by one month. Get to two months. Everyone says that pumping was much less painful by two months. It wasn't. Get to three months. It's got to get better by then. It did a little. Get to four months. Thats when their immune systems jump up a notch and they're less fragile. Get to six months. Once they start solids, they start drinking less milk and I won't have to pump as often. Get to eight months. That's 3/4 of the way to a year. Get to ten months." And thats when I threw in the towel. I didn't feel, at that point, that pumping milk for her was necessary anymore. They were so mobile, sleeping less, and requiring so much more interaction time, that I felt the interaction time was more valuable to them than me sitting attached to a machine to make milk. 

I've been surprised at how challenging motherhood is. Twin motherhood. And I'm amazed at how many women before me have done it and done it well. I have so much to learn. I'm just a baby myself on this road of experience. I'm so glad that my Heavenly Father is so patient with me, that I have a loving husband that helps me get through hard times and cheers me up when I need to cheer up or kicks me in the rear when I need one of those too. Sometimes I forget to be grateful, especially when I'm having a hard day. I'm glad for those little reminders that come to me, a pertinent quote, a bird singing, a smile from my babies - I like to call them hints from my Heavenly Father - that remind me I'm truly blessed to be able to bear my own children, that they are healthy, that I'm able to provide them a home, food, safety. "Where much is given, much is required." I recite this in my mind often and I'm thankful I've been given so much. So thankful.

Welcome Jocelyn & Ivy!

Our twin daughters arrived February 26th at 7:38 and 7:39 am, weighing 5lbs and 5 lbs 8 oz!
We were SO excited to meet them and are now enjoying getting to know them. Both Mom and Dad are busy figuring out feeding & sleeping schedules so blog posts will be short & sweet. Here are some pictures from the big day:

One Tough Cookie

If I could think of a few words to describe my little sister today, I'd say patient, tenacious, courageous, enduring, tolerant, strong, resilient, hardy, and tough would fit her pretty well. She knew what needed to be done and she did it.
After 12 hours of intense labor and not being able to progress past a 9, she made the decision to deliver by c-section. Hayden Mick Hook was born just before 1:00pm this afternoon weighing 7lbs and 14oz and he is one beautiful boy!
I'm admire Rachelle for going through the worst of both types of births to bring her son into the world. I don't know if I would have been as brave. Here is a picture of my new little nephew! He's in NICU for a couple of days for monitoring, but I can't wait to hold him!!!