October 16, 2012

GOURD-eous decorating

Well, I have gone out of my comfort zone this year with Fall decorating - but only a smidge. :) Every year when we get pumpkins, I like to get one or two to keep inside as decoration. I have never ever given those funny looking, bumpy, warty little gourds a second glance. I've never thought about how to arrange them, never thought they could be fun...until this year!

When we went to get pumpkins with our little ones this past weekend, my husband gave all the kids, (and me), a rule: only grab what you can carry. While poor Mason was hugging his chubby arms around pumpkins that I can only imagine were twice his weight, trying to lift them up, I was busy collecting smaller things. I wasn't completely sure how I would use them, but when we got home and I layed everything out, it came to me!

{Fancy gourds, sitting on (fake) crystal candle stick holders}
 
{A sideboard dressed in it's Fall best}

 
 
{I turned a couple of cheap, plastic planters, (from Walmart), upside down, wrapped a few times around in twine, and topped with my albino pumpkins with the curly-Q stems}
 
 
{Rod iron votive holders swapped their votives for these cuties}

 
It was so much fun thinking outside of the box to figure out how to display my gourds! I finally got over my fear of them and look forward to using them again next year :)
 
Have you added any Fall touches to your home? What's your favorite?!?
 
~Chelsea
 
*Special Note: As we gather together with friends and family at this time of year, I'd like to invite you to become a Garage Guest! It costs nothing to join my site, won't take long at all and you can choose to have my blogs automatically emailed to you so you don't miss one, (but you don't have to). Many have been emailing me comments regarding various posts and sharing your encouragement and ideas that way, (or on facebook), but if you would please join the site, then you can leave comments directly under each post. My goal for this blog is to be interactive with my readers and share ideas/thoughts with one another. I have readers from around the world now and would love to share inspiration with one another. Thank you for following Chelsea's Garage!
 
 
 

October 14, 2012

Colin and Shire's Birth Story - Finale!

Coming Home!!

Here are Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4 if you're just tuning in. Thank you for following my story these past few days. The birth of our twins was quite a journey for us and the details all feel fresh at this time of the year as we near their birthday. I look forward to sharing it with them when they are older.

After a week and a half or so, nurses began telling us our kids would be coming home with us the next day. We would get SO excited and have a celebratory meal the night before. Matt would make arrangements at work and we would arrive, car seats in hand, to bring our children home - only to learn that they needed further monitoring. This happened 3 times. The reasons why they would need further monitoring varied. “Well, Colin spit up during his feeding last night, so we would like to hold him and make sure he can keep his food down”. Ridiculous. (And for the record, Colin didn’t keep his food down for an entire year straight. Poor thing had reflux like I’ve never seen). Or this one: “Shire has been a lazy eater and had a feeding in the middle of the night where she just didn’t seem as interested in eating as she did in sleeping” Also ridiculous. (And for the record, when Shire came home she was an excellent sleeper...it was often her brother who woke up to eat!). So, we kept getting our hopes up and then crushed. It was torture.

We questioned the nurses and doctors, voicing our concern/opinions that the issues that our babies are having appear to be issues that most newborn babies have, (full term, even). When we spoke up on our children's behalf, we were scolded with remarks such as, “Do you really want to bring your children home now and risk them not eating or gaining weight?” Or, “Do you really want to bring Colin home now and risk that he will spit up during a feeding and potentially have his heart rate drop as a result? Because if that happens, it will be a lot harder to get him back into the hospital at that point!” My husband and I were made to feel irresponsible for wanting to bring our ‘imperfect’ children home. I told you before that my ability as a mother to care for my own children would come into question. And it did, every day. I felt small.

At 3 weeks I was on my way to the hospital one morning, (driving on my own for 2 weeks at this point), and I called my Mom. As soon as she answered her phone, I could barely speak, the urge to cry had taken over. I was completely weak from emotional exhaustion. I think all I could get out was that they wouldn’t let the babies come home but they should be home. It felt like the doctors and nurses would just keep finding reasons to keep them. Absurd reasons. Was it because Matt and I looked/were so young, (25yrs)? Had we not shown them that we knew what we were doing? But who does when they have their first baby/babies? What would it take for them to release OUR babies into OUR custody? We were spent.

That morning I spent my 2 hours in the NICU doing the usual routine, and as I came off the elevator to leave, there was my Mom. She had driven out to meet me! I sat down by her and told her how the babies were doing. As we were talking, a kind doctor, who just a day or so ago said the babies should be home within a day or two, was on his break getting a coffee. I pointed him out to my Mom and told her he thought they were in good shape, but that the doctor on call the day after him said they needed further monitoring.  Whether it’s her red hair or YEARS of being a Mom, she walked right up to that doctor on his coffee break and told him what had been going on. I introduced myself, again, in case he had forgotten me in the 2 short days since he had been assigned to my children. He was sympathetic. I needed someone who was sympathetic. This doctor said he would talk to the doctor on call that day and see what he could do. That evening Matt and I went back together to do the evening routine with the babies and we were told the kids would be home soon. Yeah right. We’d heard this over and over again.
The following morning my Mom came with me as we had planned to get a coffee after I visited the babies. When I went in to the NICU, Shire’s nurse casually told me that Shire could go home whenever I wanted to take her. My heart nearly burst with excitement! Colin’s nurse said he had spit up again or something and they wanted to watch him one more night. Not ideal, but if I could take one baby home, I would take one baby home. I didn’t spend my 2 hours in the NICU that morning. I called Matt who was at work, and told him I was going home to grab Shire’s car seat and bring her home! I could have waited for Matt to get there in the evening, but there was no way I was going to let either of my children spend a second longer there than they had to. My Mom waited in the emergency pull through with the car, I ran to the NICU with my car seat, strapped Shire in as too many nurses looked over my shoulder, kissed my sweet Colin and told him I would be back for him tomorrow, (I promised him), and got out of there fast. It was a weird feeling carrying Shire out. I felt like I was saving her….and I felt like I was betraying Colin by taking his sister away and leaving him to spend the night alone without her.
As Shire and I approached the doors that would take us out of the hospital I saw my Mom who was standing by the car with the biggest smile I have ever seen on her face. She stared at Shire, kissed her, and then we got her in the car. Neither of us sat in the back with her as we drove home. My Mom offered, but I had been made to feel  worried about my babies every day for over 3 weeks, and I would not worry about her safety now that she was with me.

The next morning, my family came over to babysit for the first time :) They watched Shire while Matt and I went to the hospital together to get our son. Colin made more of a dramatic exit than Shire. First of all, neither of them had worn real clothes yet, so as I struggled to get his flayling arms in the onesie and then inside the soft footsie outfit I had brought, he screamed so loud the entire NICU fell to a hush and all eyes were staring at us. I didn’t care. He was entitled to his opinion, afterall. Secondly, he hated his car seat. He screamed the whole way out of the hospital. He screamed the whole way home, (and for the record, he would continue to dislike his car seat for the entire first year and until we switched him to a forward facing car seat when he was big enough). When we walked into our apartment, he was greeted by his sister, his Noanie and Pops, and his Aunt Casey. Shire had slept the entire time. As we got Colin out I remember it was just a quiet and peaceful time. He slept, his sister slept, and we got to stare at them together. I felt alive again and for the first time since their birth, true, deep joy.

The months ahead were hard. After 3 weeks in a NICU routine, it was difficult to establish our own routine. The exhaustion alone of two newborns waking up at night to feed made me mean.:) Figuring out how to feed two babies at the same time who both needed to gain a substantial amount of weight was very, very hard. I wish I could say that after the babies were home, life was all good. It was good, but very challenging. The amount of work was daunting. BUT, I learned early on that work will always be a given when you have children. The work cannot define the day. There is so much more to having babies than just the work in and of itself. There is so much joy to be had if you don’t get lost in the work!

I also learned that raising children is truly a God sized job. There is no way that either Matt or I can possibly have all the strength and patience needed to do the job well on a daily basis. We must come to the Lord to be replenished – we cannot do that on our own. Our supply runs out so fast! The Lord’s supply is never ending and more than sufficient.

I remind myself of these things, even 3 years plus one more child, (Mason), later. The Lord has been so good to us. He has replenished our strength and patience every day. I am super duper far from being a perfect parent, but I can tell that my kids feel so loved, respected, and safe, and that’s what is most important in their young lives right now. God has helped me to find my voice again, and it’s stronger than it was before. The Lord has strengthened me in my confidence, in my patience, in extending grace to my children…He has stretched me and challenged me in ways I never imagined, but has never ever left me without hope, guidance, and help from a loving support system. I have so much yet to learn, but He is teaching me about Himself, myself and my little ones every day. I delight, every day, in the amazing gift of our little ones.
 
{Meeting some of their family those first days home}







 
 
{Finding our stride}
 
Thank you again for taking the time to read this!
 
~Chelsea
 

October 13, 2012

Colin and Shire's birth story, Part 4

Part 4 - Life in the NICU

Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 if you missed them. It's a long story. If you're skipping over these Birth Story posts, I don't blame you one bit. :) I'm just telling it as it happened with the details that feel fresh this time of year. And for those who read this blog for the fun stuff, (home decorating, refinished furniture, etc), it has been a busy last few days and the garage is full of some exciting new pieces and projects!!! There will be some fun posts coming up in the next few weeks of all the goodies. :)

The babies were not allowed in the post natal room with me, which was sad, but it also made me get up and get moving almost immediately after the surgery. Matt came to the hospital early the next morning, helped me into a wheel chair, and rolled me down to the NICU. First we went to Colin’s room. I felt a huge welt in my throat when I learned our babies were not even in the same room. When I looked in his incubator he was sleeping and all swaddled up, (except for his right arm which was left out for an IV). That made me sad. Did it bother him? Did he feel the IV? I got to hold him right away. I couldn’t believe I was holding my own flesh and blood. I loved him so much. It was difficult holding him at first. For one thing, I’d never held anything so small before. Also, he had so many cords and wires stuck on him that were somehow hanging out of his swaddled blanket, it was awkward! We got used to that fast, but it was tricky in the beginning. I loved holding him, regardless. It felt right. :)
 
{Some kind nurses made each baby a sign for their incubator}
 
{First time holding my son}



I hated putting him back in the incubator. Hated it.

Next we strolled on to see Shire in the room next door. It made me happy when I realized they were right across from each other, on opposite sides of a thick wall. There wasn’t a window or anything, but it reassured my momma’s heart that they really weren’t very far from each other. When I saw Shire I had so many thoughts and feelings fall over me. First, she was beautiful. A perfect looking baby girl with delicate, feminine features. Second, she was not swaddled. She was hanging out naked with only a diaper on. Was she cold? This bothered me for a week straight until she was finally allowed to be swaddled. They couldn’t swaddle her right away because her tiny veins in her arms were too small for the IVs, so they did something called a central line in her belly button. They removed the umbilical cord and ran things into her belly button. As long as she had the line in her belly button, she wasn’t allowed to be swaddled.

Because of this central line in her belly button, we were not allowed to hold her. I had no choice but to get up out of my wheel chair, which was painful and stand by her incubator to talk to her and touch her skin. A kind nurse came up behind me and put an extra robe over my shoulders. I had forgotten that all I was wearing was my large undies and my hospital gown which I thought was secured in the back. It was not. I might have been mortified if I wasn’t staring at my daughter for the first time. It hurt my arms not to hold her.




 
Three days after their birth I was released from the hospital. It was November 2, my Dad’s birthday, and exactly one month from when I was admitted. For weeks I held onto hope that I would get to go home, but after my babies were born and I realized they would need to stay at the hospital for a while, leaving was the last thing I wanted to do. The day I was scheduled to leave we waited until late in the evening so we could spend as much time as we could with our babies. I cried saying goodbye to them, even though I knew I would return the next morning. It didn’t feel right walking into the cold, dark November air, with empty arms. It was the first time I’d been outside in a month. And it should have been a joyful occasion. But joy was so lost somewhere deep inside me. I felt heavy sadness and cried the whole way home. Actually, I cried the whole way home and then every day and night for 3 weeks straight. I had gained 19lbs with Colin and Shire and lost 29lbs after 2 weeks post pardum. I was so sad.

Once home, I started a schedule that would be grueling, emotionally and physically. We thought it would be best for Matt to go back to work right away and wait to take his time off for when the babies were home. It seemed like the right thing. But I was still recovering from surgery and just getting out of bed by myself hurt, let alone the process of pumping every couple of hours. Besides the physical recovery, the loneliness and missing my babies was overwhelming. I will never forget my Mom dropping everything during this time to come and help me. She would prepare food and coax me to eat. She drove me every morning to the hospital the first week since I wasn’t supposed to drive yet post-surgery. Because of the swine flu epidemic, no one, and I mean no one was allowed into the NICU besides Matt and me. So, my Mom would drive me to the hospital and sit in the lobby for 2 hours waiting until I was done visiting/feeding my babies, (we were limited to one hour at a time with each child). My schedule revolved around either pumping milk or visiting my babies. I'd go by myself every morning, (once I started driving myself after the first week), and then again with Matt in the evening after we'd scarf down a quick dinner together. The first day visiting the hospital was the worst. I walked into the NICU by myself, and went to Colin's room first. Just upon seeing Colin, I started crying. I was embarrassed. I just knelt close to his incubator and told him I was sorry to have left him and that I missed him.



A week went by and I felt physically stronger. Then good news came! Shire’s nurse told us we’d be able to hold her the next day! I was SO excited!!!! That day I put on a special dress for Shire. It was a strapless dress so that she could feel my skin, and it had lots of bright colors, which I thought she’d enjoy looking at. I totally forgot about the stupid hospital gowns we were instructed to wear every time we went to visit the babies. Ugh. I hated all the rules. But, it really didn’t matter what I was wearing, what mattered was getting to hold our Shire Grace for the first time.




It was like lifting air. She smiled for me and it lit up the room! Gazing at my daughter was/is like seeing my heart outside of my body. Now it was even harder to leave her behind. She would be thriving even faster if she were home, I thought.

Tomorrow is the finale to this birth story, (finally!!!) Stay tuned to find out how/when our babies come home.

~Chelsea
 

October 12, 2012

Colin and Shire's birth story, Part 3

Part 3: Delivery Day!

Here are Part 1 and Part 2 if you missed them.

The morning of October 29, (34wks pregnant), was like any other day in the hospital. Judy, my angel, was assigned to me. She let me finish my breakfast before coming in to start the non stress test. She got the monitors in place over the babies fairly easily, and after an hour or so of continual contracting, she became concerned. She asked, “Are you feeling these contractions?” “No” I said. “Well you should be. They are quite strong. I am going to go ahead and call for the doctor to examine you”. Having never gone through labor before I didn’t know what to expect, but if this nurse said that these contractions were “strong”, then I felt like I must be superhuman because I did not feel any pain or discomfort at all, and I was not on any pain medication. The doctor came in, did a quick examination and said very matter of factly, “You are 3cm so we'll go ahead and get the babies out via c-section today”.
Just like that?!

I turned to Judy, one of the few people I trusted in this place, and told her it wasn’t time. She stroked my hair and told me it would be okay. I pleaded with the doctor to let the babies stay in. I wasn’t in any discomfort, and according to the monitors that were measuring my babies heartbeats, they were happy as clams themselves. Somewhere in my head I recalled hearing that it can take a woman a looong time to dilate fully. I figured that it took 4 full weeks for me to go from 1 – 3cm, so why not wait another few weeks??? I called my husband, I called my Mom and Dad. They came. Matt was with me when they took me down to Labor and Delivery. We were briefed on what would happen in the delivery room. I wasn't nervous. The Lord gave me a peaceful, calming strength in those moments.

The delivery room was peaceful in an eery way. It was all white and had bright 'walmart' lighting. Everyone was chatting casually as they prepped for the c-section surgery, (some of the nurses were talking about the options for breakfast in the cafeteria that morning). It was weird. My whole world and life were about to change tremendously and I was listening to chit chat so casual I thought I was standing by a water cooler. But, it was kind of relaxing…was that on purpose? Maybe that’s their secret trick J
When they told me everything was ready, I asked the doctor if they would please lower the sheet , (that blocked my view of what I can only imagine looked like a horror scene from a movie), when they pulled the babies out so I could see them right away. That was my only request. I had no others. Matt sat next to my head and we held hands, waiting anxiously to see our babies.

Colin Joshua was first as he was on the bottom. It had been that way from the very beginning. Shire was practically doing jumping jacks on his poor bottom. It was a matter of seconds between when they told me they were starting to cut to when he was out. Amazing! I heard his cry, but no one lowered the sheet. I heard someone say “Here he is!” I had my eyes focused at the top of the sheet that was the wall between my son and me. I was trying hard to see him. They tried to lift him up but it wasn’t high enough for me to see anything. Finally I saw his tiny bloody hand which briefly flopped over the side of the sheet and then he was whisked away to be examined, cleaned, etc.

It took them a bit longer to get Shire Grace. She had made her home up by my ribs so they had to really ‘search’ for her. When she came out she did not cry, but not because she couldn't. She was quiet and ready for this moment. They lifted her up, not much higher than Colin, but this time I saw her little, tiny face peering over the sheet. Her eyes were open, just like that. She was ready to be born. She stared right at me for a brief second before she, too, was whisked away.

It seemed like a long time to me between when they took them away to be checked and when they brought them over to us. Understandable. They were premature at 34 weeks, so the team wanted to make sure they were okay. When they brought them over they were completely swaddled with tiny little hats on. We had our first family photos :)

 
We were told both babies scored 10s on their Apgar test, and that they were going to be taken down to the NICU for some further monitoring. 10s on their Apgar. “Great!!!” I thought. Surely we’d be able to take them home in a few days when I was discharged from the hospital. I was so encouraged! Matt went with the kids to take some pictures and I chatted with the staff about hospital food as they closed me up.







 
Turns out, it would be more than a few days until the kids would come home and while there are children born every day in far, far, worse circumstances, these circumstances were very difficult for us.
Coming up - life in the NICU and coming home with empty arms. But don't worry, there's a happy 'ending' ahead :)
~Chelsea

October 11, 2012

Colin and Shire's birth story, Part 2


Part 2: Joy and joy robbers
Here is Part 1 if you missed it.
A few days in to my hospital stay, my Dad, (who visited daily along with my Mom and Matt - I did get a few other very sweet visitors, but my parents and husband faithfully visited every single day, all at different times which made the days go by quickly), came by with a plastic bag from Michaels craft store. He pulled up a chair and showed me his purchases: a book, ‘Teach Yourself Crochet’, a few crochet needles, and some spools of yarn. He excitedly thought learning to crochet would be a great way to pass the time. So sweet! After he left I opened the book and got to work. After an hour I threw everything in the bag, unable to complete the first, most basic, stitch in the book.

That afternoon my nurse sent Judy in. Judy was my angel. She was a seasoned prenatal nurse in her 60s and very mothering and compassionate. She sat on my bed with me and showed me the beginning crochet stitch. She told me to practice that while she tended to her patients and that she would be back. I'd practiced that stitch for an hour straight when she came back in again. She showed me a 2nd stitch, and left me to practice that one for a while. She came back and showed me a 3rd. After the 3rd she said I knew enough to make a basic blanket if I wanted to. I had a goal! I would make my babies blankets. I spent every day crocheting. Nurses who were not assigned to me would come in just to see the handiwork.

*At the end of 3 weeks I did finish 2 blankets, neither of which resmembled an identifiable shape. :)
{Shire and Colin's blankets}

One afternoon, my nurse came in to examine me, (a daily part of the schedule).  I set aside my crochet materials and told her I hoped to have the blankets done before the babies came. She smiled slightly and asked if I was using wool yarn. I told her I thought my yarn was a wool blend. She advised that I don’t let the blankets touch my babies because they might have a wool allergy. Joy robber!

My family and friends pleaded with the hospital to let them throw me a baby shower in the hospital cafeteria. It was swine flu season, so my doctors were very hesitant but finally agreed to let me attend for 45 minutes, from a wheel chair, wearing a mask. I’ll never forget the morning of the shower. My Mom had gone shopping and picked up a couple maternity tops for me to choose from to wear to the shower. She and my sister arrived hours before the shower to help me get ready, armed with jewelry options and make up. I felt pretty for the first time in a while. My sister even drew awesome red lips on my face mask.:) When I was wheeled down to the cafeteria, the faces, the décor, the mound of gifts….everything took my breath away. It was completely heartwarming. God used each woman there, (and those who sent well wishes from afar), to envelope me in love and support.
{My Mom framed my baby shower invitation which was a photo I had taken at the beach a few months back of my belly, toes, and the surf}
 
{A couple photos with my sister and Mom before going downstairs for the shower}

 
{With some of the incredible women who made the trip. I truly felt loved}
*Notice no mask. I was NOT wearing that thing for any pictures.

 
{My brother showed up to help transport gifts from the hospital to our apartment}
 
With only 45 min to attend, I was wheeled around the large circle of friends and family for embraces, encouragement, and then I was set up for the business of gift opening. 45 min flew by, and after half the gifts had been opened and a few bites of cake eaten, I was wheeled back to my room. My Mom and sister brought a few more gifts up for me to open from my bed, and then opened the rest themselves later. I was so excited about what we’d been given! We were set! We had all that we needed and then some.
The same nurse who had scolded me for using wool yarn asked me a few days later how my shower went. I beamed and told her how generous everyone was and what we got, what the cribs would look like, etc. I was excitedly putting everything together in my head imagining what the nursery might look like. When I was finished telling her about some of the things I was excited about, she sat down and literally begged me not to put the bumpers we’d been given, (that we picked out), on the cribs. She gave me a long winded explanation about how bumpers might be a possible cause of SIDS, (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome), and that it reduces air circulation in the cribs, and that it could be putting my babies in real danger. She almost became tearful as she asked me to reconsider adding bumpers to the cribs. Here I was, layed up in a bed day in and day out, having been outside of my room once in a matter of weeks, constantly thinking about life with newborn twins and what a transition that will be...and this nurse was begging and pleading with me not to use bumpers. Joy robber strikes again! I wasn't even arguing with her, even told her I would think about it and do my own research. I finally asked her to leave, then asked for a different nurse to finish that shift.

This nurse planted a seed in my mind and heart that made me doubt my voice, my mothers heart, and my maternal instinct. This was not the first time, nor would it be the last, in this birth story where my ability as a mother would be questioned. And I am sorry to say, I let the doubt make my voice small.
But, I eventually found my voice again. :) Stay tuned!

~Chelsea

October 10, 2012

Colin and Shire's birth story, Part 1


Part 1: Settling in…at Fairfax Hospital
{This is me, 3 years ago today}
 
This post has nothing to do with refinishing furniture or home decor. I just want to share a story, my story, of some events that were life changing for me. As some of you already might know, I have boy girl twins, Colin and Shire. They will be 3 years old on October 29. As most twins’ births, theirs was a bit different from a singleton birth. Aside from some of the common scenarios associated with twin births, (they were born via c-section, they were premature), their birth was anything but common for me. And it started 3 years and 8 days ago. This story is broken up into several 'parts', so I will post them one at a time so not to overload you with one long blog!
My due date was December 4. On September 18 Matt and I moved to Northern Virginia, (Fairfax area), from Virginia Beach. At that time I was already supposed to be on modified bed rest and had to stop working my job as a personal trainer a few weeks prior. The move couldn’t have gone smoother; we had a lot of help on both ends from family and friends. However, when I met my new OBGYN for the first time, she requested an ultrasound to check for ‘funneling’, (the beginning stage of dilating). Her office didn’t do ultrasounds; they made an appointment for me up the street at Fairfax Hospital. The day of my appointment was a good day. October 2. It was Matt’s 2nd day of work at a job he was very optimistic about. My Mom picked me up and we spent the entire morning together, enjoying a Capitals hockey practice, lunch at Panera, and just general quality time together, (this has little to do with my story, but she DID end up losing her 25yr anniversary ring that my Dad had given her and we spent some major time looking for it in trashcans, skating rink bleachers, under tables, etc….she found it eventually, but not that day. We were blue when we arrived to the hospital for my ultrasound). The ultrasound tech was a perky girl who was newly engaged. I liked her. She was sweet and friendly. She showed us the jumble of legs, arms, little bottoms, and heads that were inside my tummy. Then she started to check my cervical canal and got very quiet. I felt my heart drop. I knew she wasn’t allowed to say anything. They never are. But her silence and face gave her away. She left me to re-dress and told us the doctor would come talk to us. The doctor came to us and said that I was 1cm dilated and would need to remain in the hospital on strict bed rest through the remainder of my pregnancy.

I was shocked. Don’t women walk around at 1cm all the time for weeks and weeks before they give birth?! I wasn’t contracting and was drinking water like it was my full time job! This couldn’t be. What about Matt? I wanted to spend our last months together. What about the baby shower? My first baby shower which I had been looking forward to so much was scheduled for October 11. Would it be cancelled? We didn’t have anything for our babies. We thought we had time! I was months away from my due date.

Shocked and devastated I called my Dad. No, wait, my Mom called my Dad since the urge to cry was taking over my ability to speak.  Matt’s new job was with my Dad’s company. With it being Matt’s 2nd day of work and training, I didn’t want to interrupt him, so I asked her to call my Dad. My Dad was able to give Matt the news and together they drove to the hospital to meet my Mom and me. Before coming to the hospital, I asked that Matt bring me a change of clothes; I needed something comfortable to sleep in. At this point, I was still hoping that if my cervix didn’t funnel any further after a few days of hospitalized bed rest and monitoring, maybe they would let me go home. The doctor had reluctantly told me that was a small possibility, but for me it was a goal. I wanted to go home and spend the remainder of my pregnancy in peace with my husband.

The boys showed up to the hospital a few hours later. Matt brought me this to sleep in:
 
When I died laughing he said he just grabbed what was on top in my pj drawer. I guarantee, at 7 months pregnant with twins, THAT was not on top!!!! Oh my husband. I love him so. My Mom, who had my apartment key, brought me some real clothes the next day.
My first night was eventful. While getting situated in my shared room, (there was another woman pregnant with twins next to me), I nodded as if I was retaining and understanding all the information a fast speaking nurse rattled off about what was to be my schedule during my stay. I caught something about medical students being allowed to come in and ask me questions during their shifts, which were usually very early in the morning. Allowed? Allowed by who? I’m the patient. I don’t want this. Do I have a choice? The nurse left me with papers to sign. My family left, promising to return the next morning. I settled down to try to get some sleep, only to learn that my roomie only fell asleep with her tv turned on loud, (days later my Dad showed up with ear plugs, which not only blocked out my roomies tv, but the naive medical students who would stand by my bed at the wee hours of the morning, calling out my name, trying to wake me up to ask the most ridiculous questions such as, but not limited to, “Are you experiencing any discomfort right now?” “Yes, I was asleep and you woke me up”

Sometime during my first night, around 4am, I started feeling contractions. I was instructed to buzz my nurse if I was feeling contractions every 10 minutes. Mine were about that over a half hour, so I buzzed her. Her English was hard for me to understand but I heard her say that she was going to give me a medicine which would stop the contractions but would give me the jitters for a little bit. She gave me the medicine and left and almost right away my hands were shaking and my heart was racing. I’m a long distance runner, and my heart felt as if I’d been sprinting the last stretch of a 10k. I thought I would get up and try to go to the bathroom, maybe walking or being upright would help. I hardly made it to the bathroom I was shaking so bad. I got back in bed and waited for the ‘jitters’ to go away. I took deep breaths, tried to think about something else. I felt as if my heart was going to burst; beat so hard and fast it would explode right in my chest. This couldn’t be good for a pregnant woman…right? A med student came in to ask me her lot of questions and before she got out a word I told her I thought I was having an allergic reaction. Turns out, if you say the words “allergic reaction” in Fairfax Hospital, you will be surrounded by an army of nurses and doctors before you can count to 5; you will become the eye of a storm with people poking, sticking, cuffing, (blood pressure cuff that is), and examining every inch of you, inside and out. I was hardly warned as I was rolled onto my side for a shot in my butt which successfully brought my heart rate back down. It had reached 160 in a matter of seconds. My resting heart rate is in the low 50s.

They wheeled my down to labor and delivery, allowing me to bring my phone so I could call my husband. I told him what was going on and he came right over. I was given an iv of a medicine which was going to numb my whole body – a serious muscle relaxer which would stop my contractions…and every other working soft muscle in my body. I had my first catheter. I wasn’t allowed to drink a sip of water for 24 hours because there was a risk for choking since apparently even the muscles in my throat were relaxed. Yet, I was allowed to have ice chips. Odd.

That 24hours was torture. I was so thirsty. Painfully thirsty. I told my new nurse that I was worried about my babies if I felt this dehydrated. She told me I had an iv drip keeping my body hydrated…but still, I worried. I didn’t sleep once. I was checked every 30 min or so, and was asking for a new cup of ice chips every 20. I would let the ice melt in my mouth and then let the sweet drips of water slide down my throat. All I thought about was a 7-11 slurpee. The next day, after my body numbing medicine wore off, they let me go back up to the prenatal floor, back in with my old roomie who had no idea what had happened. They ‘tagged’ me with a bright red bracelet that told the staff I had an allergy, and started me on a combination of other medicines that would help keep the contractions away. That evening, Matt  brought me a slurpee :)

Every morning, part of my ‘schedule’ was to have a non stress test done. I would get 3 monitor ‘belts’ put on. One to monitor my belly for contractions, one to monitor Colin’s heart rate, and one to monitor Shire’s heart rate. The nurses would ask me to lie in all kinds of positions to keep these monitor belts in place, and they were not often comfortable positions, so I frequently would start contracting during my non stress test. When I initially checked into the hospital, I was told I would have this test done every morning and that it would take about 10 minutes. Mine took about 2 hours every day. The nurses and I could never manage to keep the belts over my squirming babies, so we would have to readjust and readjust, which always caused me to contract, like an evil cycle. And when I would contract, they would restart the clock. They wanted to measure 20 solid minutes of no contracting whatsoever. It was awful. I would get stressed out and physically uncomfortable and contract.

Another part of my schedule was to fill out, each morning, what I wanted to eat the next day for breakfast lunch and dinner. After filling out your menu, you were required to sign the bottom of the page. One evening as I was being served dinner, I noticed a cheese burger on my tray. I didn't order a cheese burger. I was so confused. I thought maybe I had the wrong meal, so I asked the food delivery woman about it. She pointed to my menu, where I had signed 'Chelsea Bieber', and in broken english said, "See? Cheese burger. No?" Hahahahahahahaha! What a laugh - so grateful for little moments like this during my stay that made me laugh and smile.

A little less than a week into my stay, I was moved to my own room. I had a beautiful view of the trees changing as fall came into it's peak. Though I was not supposed to stand for more than 5 min a day, I would get up every morning and open my curtains before my nurse would come in. I wanted to see the outside. Fall had never looked so good and I was missing it. Ever since this time in the hospital, Fall has become my favorite season :)

If you have actually read this far, thank you. There is more to come, (a baby shower hosted in a hospital, my favorite hobby during my hospital stay, my babies birth, and the struggles that followed).

~Chelsea