A Twin Confessional

That's right, I said TWINS. It took me a moment, okay a full seven days, for that word to begin to sink in. When the hyperovulation gene has made it completely undetected through a hereditary line of three women before reaching you, you just don't stroll into the doctor's office for your first ultrasound expecting to hear the tech say quietly and carefully, "I see two babies." Surprise!

The hubs and I found out about our two babies (affectionately dubbed PB&J for the remainder of my pregnancy) on December 1st. It's been 29 days since that life-altering announcement and I have to admit I'm still struggling with the concept. A lot. Brooks had been such a sweet, easy-going baby that Hubs and I thought, why not go ahead and add a second? They'll be close in age and best buddies growing up together. What we didn't consider for even a second was the possibility that we might go from one offspring to three in the span of nine months. That's a vastly different proposition.

Three cribs. Three little stinky butts in diapers. Three small human beings who cannot yet use words to communicate and therefore must cry. Often. Three high chairs (or maybe two and a booster seat). Three car seats (thank God we just bought a minivan). A stroller that will somehow carry three children. Did I mention the diapers?

I don't know how it's emotionally possible to be excited, scared and guilt-ridden all at once, but that's pretty much my constant state of being right now. I am thrilled to be carrying healthy babies, and of course I already love them like a fierce mama bear. I am terrified thinking about how on earth I'm going to take care of three children under 20 months old next summer, and terrified that my sweet son will get lost in the melee. That cannot happen. I feel guilty that I'm not more excited to be pregnant with twins. I know there are countless women in the world who cannot conceive at all, and here am I, Fertile Myrtle, 60% happy on a really good day and just plain petrified the rest of the time.

Have you ever Googled articles on having twins and a toddler? The majority of them start like this: "You have a singleton and are adding twins? God bless you." The most memorable reactions I've received from coworkers and friends so far have been "Better you than me" and "Congratulations?" Twin parents I speak with typically caution me with "The first year is absolute hell, but then it gets really fun."

But then there are all of the people who are beside themselves with excitement for me (like my boss who shouted the news across an entire wing of cubicles - "Hey guys, Tori is having twins!!"), and they help to balance the scales. Their excitement rubs off on me a little, and I need that. You're right. Twins will be so much fun. My kids will be the Three Musketeers. I am knocking out three children in only two pregnancies. There are many reasons to rejoice!

And I have to remind myself on a daily basis that God knows what Hubs and I can handle. The ultrasound announcement was not a surprise to Him. He has a distinct plan and purpose for PB&J, as siblings and as individuals. God has been preparing our little family already. The hubs was rear-ended a few months ago and his car was totaled, so we went ahead and bought what was once going to be "the minivan we get down the road." We decided that I would leave my job last week, which now allows me 5-6 precious months to rest, prepare and spend extra quality time with Brooks. On December 1st, immediately following the declaration "I see two babies," an additional ultrasound tech entered the exam room who happens to be a mother of preteen twins. In the initial shock of the news, she was able to reassure and encourage two reeling parents. The babies will hopefully arrive in June, which lines up seamlessly with Hubs' summer break from grad school classes. There are many reasons to rejoice.

So there you have it. My twin pregnancy confession. I am excited. I am scared. I want desperately to be more excited and less scared. I'm a work in progress. And God is Good. And He's got this, even if I don't.

PB&J, Mama loves you to the moon and back.

Inadequate

It's been a real humdinger of a day. Actually, it's been a real humdinger of a week.

Most days when something goes awry, a quick self pep talk and a prayer can straighten my course. But then there are days like the ones I've had this week; days when just as I'm rising to my feet from one stumble, I catch a toe on the very next bump in the sidewalk and down I go again. I'm sporting a few bruises right now. They're minor frustrations in the grand scheme of my life, but today they appear monumental. I am acutely aware of my own inadequacies.

in·ad·e·quate

inˈadikwət/

adjective

1. lacking the quality or quantity required; insufficient for a purpose.

   "these labels prove to be wholly inadequate"

   synonyms:

   insufficient, deficient, poor, scant, scanty, scarce, sparse, in short supply; More

Yep, that about sums it up.
I lack the quality or quantity required to be who I think I need to be in so many of my title roles: Wife, Mama, Daughter, Friend, Employee, Christian. I'm selfish. I rely on praise from others to feel validated. I'm self-conscious about my body. I am prone to jealousy and worry. I'm afraid to talk about Jesus with people who don't know him because I fear rejection.

I'm deficient in every area that matters.

And you know what? That's okay. It's actually completely normal.

On days like today I have to remind myself that we're all screw ups, every last blessed one of us! We're all indequate. It's human nature to be broken. That hasn't changed since the Garden of Eden.

There's an ancient Japanese practice called Kintsugi that involves repairing a broken clay vessel by pouring in lacquer mixed with gold dust. The idea is that rather than trying to repair the pot so that it appears seamless, the cracks are highlighted with shimmering gold veins. It's as if the maker of the vessel wants to strengthen its structure and celebrate its imperfections all at once.

In 2 Corinthians 4 Paul says, " We have these treasures in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us" (ESV). We are breakable, fragile beings. God is all-powerful and forever. Jesus embodied all of my crap, all my weaknesses and all my failures past, present and future, when he took the punishment meant for me on the cross. And anyone who accepts that beautiful gift also gains his Spirit to flow in and fill those cracks and crevices that life constantly tries to widen.

The innate purpose crafted into our souls is to give God the glory he so richly deserves. Alone, I am "insufficient for the purpose." I want success, fame and acceptance for myself. I am a glory thief. But Christ lives in me, and he is all-sufficient. Miraculously, he covers over my inadequacies and bridges my gaps. I don't have to strive for perfection because the one who is perfect claims me as his.

And when I stop striving, I am at peace. I can kick those humdingers to the curb.

What I Didn't Know to Ask: The Postpartum Edition

Baby Cakes is 9 months old, meaning that he has now existed outside of my womb for the same amount of time he lived in it. And quite a lot has changed in my life since BC's been on this side of things. As I noted in my last post, I did a motherload of research on pregnancy. About a month prior to The Birth Event (that's what insurance calls it, and I find it to be hilarious), I started reading up on what the heck to do with an infant. I was up to my eyeballs in literature explaining how to get my baby to sleep, latch, stop crying (yeah, right), and speak Spanish by 6 months of age...okay, kidding on that last one. But seriously, there are baby care / new mommy self help books on every subject under the sun!

What I did not read a single sentence about was what to expect for my own body once I was done expecting. A few things in particular took me completely by surprise. When you are severely sleep-deprived and your hormones have run amok, surprises are just plain rude. In the hopes that I'll save a few preggo ladies some rude awakenings down the road, here you go.

What I Didn't Know to Ask: The Postpartum Edition

Your body does adjust to the shocking lack of sleep. During the first few nights of Baby Cakes' life in the hospital, Jeff and I were sucker-punched by the immediate sleep deprivation coupled with the steep learning curve of figuring out how to keep this new little human alive. After a week or so at home, we were equally surprised to realize that our bodies had adjusted to waking every 60-90 minutes to feed the baby. It's not fun, but it's doable. Parents survive. We're built to. And sleep deprivation always ends up producing memorable stories. So there's that.

Most stretch marks don't go away. Somehow I made it to 31 years old with plenty of mommy friends around me before I learned that stretch marks don't magically fade into oblivion once your stomach shrinks back down. Ask any of my girlfriends whether or not religious lotion slathering actually helps fend off those pesky purple lines and you'll hear mixed results. At best, most women's stretch marks eventually lose pigment and appear white or silvery. If it makes you feel better to rub that Buddha belly every day while you're preggo, go for it! It really might help! Some women, God bless them, never get stretch marks at all (and the rest of us secretly loathe them just a little). 

If you make it almost a year postpartum and still look like you have an abstract drip painting featured on your stomach like I do, my tip is this: Start learning to view those little scars as a celebration of what it took to carry your sweet baby into the world, not as a blemish to be ashamed of. I'm working on that right now myself. The aches, pains and extraordinary biological changes our bodies go through in order to create a brand new human being are pretty dang miraculous - certainly something to be immensely proud of!

Up to 50% of your hair might fall out. Unfortunately this is not a joke. Starting around 4 months after your baby's birthday, you will notice thick strands of hair swirling their way toward your shower drain every time you shampoo. Though I have thick locks, a few months into the shedding process I realized I could see my scalp through my hair in places! That's pretty disconcerting. Don't fret, though. By 7-8 months postpartum you should see the first sprigs of new hair stubbornly poking straight up around your face. You'll never be more ecstatic about what looks to most people like a bad hair day.

You won't forget the unfortunate aspects of pregnancy and birth, but the emotions attached to them will dull. Until recently, I never understood why some moms were ready to start trying for Child Deux before their first baby reached their first birthday. Frankly, I thought perhaps they had lost the ability to think clearly. Now I totally get it! It's thrilling to watch Baby Cakes grow and learn and develop a personality, but there's a crazy maternal warmth and yearning that blooms in my chest when I see a tiny baby snuggled into his carrier at Target. When I think about being pregnant again, I get a little giddy! Sure, I remember the 5+ months of all-day nausea, the acute hip pain and the swollen feet, but I also remember feeling little kicks in my stomach and watching BC smile on the 3D ultrasound screen. And then I'm ready to do it all over again. I mean, how could you not want another one of these??

No, Mom. I'm not pregnant. Yet. 

What I Didn't Know to Ask: The Pregnancy Edition

I consider myself an expert Googler. If I want to know what spiders in my house are actually worth worrying about or remember what movie I've seen that pointy-nosed guy currently on my tv screen in, I will find that mess out, and quickly. That's why when I found out I was pregnant on March 1, 2014, I dove nose-first into a sea of pregnancy websites. I knew that my trusty little search engine would find every detail about my pregnancy and the baby growing inside me that I could possibly want to understand. And I was right. I found some wonderfully helpful websites that I still regularly peruse as a new mom. Here they are, for any currently preggo or new mommy friends reading this:

Pregnant Chicken
Lucie's List
The Bump
Mamapedia

I also found a whole lotta CRAP online - never-ending blog threads featuring hormonal women with very specific and passionately opposed opinions arguing back and forth. But we'll save that for a different post.

What my Googling prowess and all the helpful websites in the world couldn't offer me was an answer to any number of questions I didn't know to ask. I am a well-informed 21st century mommy, but much of what I've learned over the past 17 months has been completely experiential. Baby Cakes is actually napping well this morning (on his stomach for the first time, no less), so I finally have time to share these personal insights with the world. Hopefully you'll either get a kick out of shared experiences, or learn something before it shockingly happens to you!

Here goes.

What I Didn't Know to Ask: The Pregnancy Edition

Pregnant nausea is NOT like having the stomach flu. Throwing up will not make you feel any less wretched than you do right now. The porcelain throne is not a shiny white symbol of relief. Suck it up. Or suck on a ginger hard candy. And sip on some Canada Dry. Though these "surefire" pregnancy nausea relievers might not help at all either. The only thing that remotely took the edge off for me through my first 5 months of pregnancy was motion-sick wristbands. These were life-savers! Also, Morning Sickness is not aptly named. It should be called All Day Sickness.

Your ankles will swell to alarming proportions. The only true variable is when it will happen to you. Some women are lucky enough to wear their cute flats and see their ankle bones cheerfully poking out above their stylish sandal straps until the final few weeks of pregnancy. Others will lose their ankles entirely and have their Michelin Man feet restricted to slip-on Crocs only for a solid 2-3 months. Oh, and the most startling part: Your ankles may stay swollen for a few weeks after you pop that baby out! It took me a good month or more to get back into normal shoes. And yes, I was drinking water like it was my job.

www.huffingtonpost.com

You will have freakishly weird dreams throughout your pregnancy. A few of my most memorable: watching my eyebrows grow into a unibrow in a matter of seconds, giving birth to a girl...puppy, fighting ISIS with my mom.

You have little to no control over bodily functions. No one wants to talk about this, but it's a very real problem for pregnant women, especially the bigger the baby (and therefore one's gargantuan stomach) grows. Yes, you are going make hourly, maybe even bi-hourly, trips to the Little Girls' Room for a tinkle. But a word of warning: If you feel a #2 coming on, GO TO THE BATHROOM WITHOUT DELAY. And into your 7th and 8th months of pregnancy, be careful of laughing or coughing with too much vigor. You just might wet your pants. You'll thank me for this piece of gold later.

The crazy ridiculous overemotional pregnant women you see depicted in film and television are a totally accurate representation of our hormonal state. I thought overemotional pregnant women were exaggerated for laughs. Nope. The struggle is real. About 10 weeks into my pregnancy I watched a Youtube video of the Australian cast of Lion King breaking out into "Circle of Life" on an airplane ride and bawled my way through half a box of tissues. It is a pretty awesome video, though. And if your boss corrects you at work, no matter how graciously it is done the waterworks will start. Be ready to spend 15 minutes calming yourself down in a bathroom stall while you mentally roll your eyes at yourself.

No one can fully prepare you for how incredible it will feel to hold your baby for the first time. I had Baby Cakes via a scheduled C-section (he was both breech and gigantic), so I didn't get the coveted "skin to skin" experience. And Cakes had a few scary complications for the pediatric staff to work through during those first 24 hours, so I didn't hold him nearly as soon as I would have liked to. Even so, feeling him being laid on my chest and quietly studying his tiny, perfect features was one of the most unbelievable moments of my life. Meeting your little human will make all of the crazy and uncomfortable moments of pregnancy ENTIRELY worth it. If I'm not right here, how does any woman do this more than once??


Mommies, I'd love for you to comment with other pregnancy What I Didn't Knows!

Entrusted

This past Sunday, Jeff and I stood up in front of our church family to be commissioned. I know to a lot of people that term is a strange one. This was a super important moment in the life of our little family, so if you'll let me I'd like to explain what in the world happened. :)

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines commission as "the authority to act for, in behalf of, or in place of another" and "a task or matter entrusted to one as an agent for another." At Summit Church, we commission the parents rather than baptizing the baby. This is done out of an understanding that an infant can't yet make personal decisions about faith, but their parents can. And so we stand before our church family in a demonstration of agreement that we desire and will try our best to raise our precious babies in a home that declares the salvation and goodness of Christ. Our pastors and the church body pray over us, that God will use his Holy Spirit in us to show and teach the Gospel to our children, and that they will come alongside of us as a community of believers to help us as we raise these kiddos. After all, it takes a village to raise a child!

Don't get me wrong, I'm not poo-pooing infant baptism. I was baptized as a baby and will always be grateful that my parents felt it important to bring me into the Church. I later chose, as a young adult, to be baptized again as a profession of my own faith. In a sense, I ratified my parents' earlier hopes for me. That is what Jeff and I fervently hope for our children, that as kids they will grow in the knowledge and understanding of who God is and what his atoning sacrifice means for them. Then, once they are able to make life-altering decisions for themselves, our greatest desire is for them to choose Christ on their own.

As part of the parent commissioning process, Jeff and I were asked to choose a Scripture passage and write a prayer for Baby Cakes. We chose 2 Thessalonians 1:11-12.

"To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of His calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by His power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in Him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ."

Jeff penned this prayer for our son. I will treasure it always and pray it over him as often as I remember. 

Let any good B sees in us direct him to Your goodness, and let our shortcomings provide the opportunity to remind him of Your perfect love. Let him feel the irresistible pull of Your love from a very young age. Give him the grace to trust You more than he does us, himself or the world.

Sharing a cool article about ADHD

I work at an awesome company that provides online training for professionals in the healthcare industry. Sometimes I come across pretty cool articles that highlight mental health, or intellectual or developmental health issues. Today I found a great one. My husband, one of the most intelligent men I know, has ADD (not ADHD, but they do have some similar qualities), so I related in many ways to this writer. If you know someone who has ADD or ADHD, hopefully you can glean something meaningful from it too!



http://www.mamapedia.com/voices/the-upside-of-loving-someone-with-adhd

Daddy's Top 10

Seeing as yesterday was Jeff's first official Father's Day (last year the Bun was still in the Oven), I thought it would be fitting to reflect on some of the things I appreciate about my husband as a dad. So here is Daddy's Top 10, in no particular order.

He doesn't turn his nose up at a diaper change. In fact, when he is home he changes just about all of Baby Cakes' dirty drawers.

He has a sweet bedtime routine that he does nightly with our son. And both of them LOVE it.

He looks for opportunities to have daddy-son outings so Mama can have much-needed "alone time" (aka being able to run errands without lugging 20+ lbs of baby chunk around town).

He regularly tells me what a beautiful woman and mother I am.

He is humble and quick to apologize during tired parent spats.

He swoops in to entertain Baby Cakes when he can tell both baby and mama need a break from each other.

He has a blast finding organic fruits and veggies on sale, and excitedly purees as much baby food as I do!

On top of his normal full-time job and taking amazing care of his family, he stays up late every night working on his MBA in order to better provide for us.

He keeps our fridge stocked with a modest array of white wines as a mommy treat on particularly stressful days.

He loves Jesus more than he loves me or our son, which equips him to love us with a grace and strength beyond his own ability.

Here's to you, Hubby. You're my favorite.

Oh My Cute.

If I have learned anything as a new mommy over the past 7 months, it's this: In order to maintain some level of sanity, you MUST focus on the cute. Your best laid plans will be consistently foiled by perfectly timed projectile vomits, insanely large diaper dumps (how did poop get THERE?), ear-piercing shrieks with no obvious cause or solution, refusals to eat without double-fisting messy baby spoons (how did avocado get THERE?), and so on and so forth.

Case and point, yesterday I was changing a diaper on the way out the door to meet a friend...and my hand sanitizer pump decided to spray liquid fire in a sweeping arc over the changing table and directly into Baby Cakes' eye. After 20 minutes of frantic eye-flushing over the sink, calls to both the pediatrician and then Poison Control, and a good cry on both our parts, we were again ready to head out to our froyo date (though alcohol seemed more appealing than ice cream at that point).

Equally constant in the world of mommyhood, though, are moments of sheer delight and heart melting adorableness. The crooked baby grin with a mouth full of sweet potato, the peal of giggles watching mommy's amazing kitchen dance moves, the sleepy head burrowing into your shoulder, the look of wonder when Baby discovers he can do something he couldn't quite do yesterday.

So to my exhausted, beautiful mama friends still wearing yesterday's spit up laden nursing tank and worn out yoga pants, I propose a choice. Today, let's focus on the cute. Let's take a collected deep breath and remember that all of this mess truly is a beautiful one. And tomorrow morning, on Groundhog Day, let's do it over again. Because these amazing, frustrating, precious, baffling, sweet sweet babies are a gift. And we have a good Giver who provides every bit of strength and joy we ask for. Amen!

The Super In-Laws

On Saturday night Jeff, Baby Cakes and I donned super hero t-shirts to help celebrate our brother-in-law's 40th birthday. Jeff's sweet sister did an amazing job planning the party for family and friends. Here are some fun shots we took.

Brandon and Kristen

Grandma & Grandpa with Brooks

Kristen & Jeff. I LOVE this sibling pic!

Superman and our little TMNT

 

Lynn (Jeff's mom), Nana (Jeff's grandmother), Gordon (Jeff's dad),

Kristen, Brandon, Jeff & me

 

Baby's true super power...

 

Bat Girl + Superman = Teenaged Mutant Ninja Baby

My Relationship with Facebook: It's Complicated.

Instant access isn't always a good thing. In fact, I'm beginning to think it rarely is. I don't believe I have an addictive personality, but some part of me craves constant entertainment. Since the advent of the smart phone, I have slowly but steadily lost the ability to enjoy sitting in silence, or listen to music for the sake of the music, or daydream while sitting in a waiting room at the doctor's office, or give my full concentration to a meal with a friend. My phone is always there, and on that phone lives Facebook. And Instagram. And my favorite news, weather and couponing apps. And Gmail. And Candy Crush. And. And. And. There is never a moment in time when I can't be immediately satisfied by tapping on that bright, inviting screen and delving into the latest articles on my News Feed or  tackling that super tricky level on Bubble Witch Saga.

None of the things I've just listed are inherently "bad." It's wonderful to have a myriad of ways to connect with family and friends, and to enjoy little mental challenges like which candy to switch next. The problem lies in the fact that one small electronic device can so easily consume a significant portion of my day. I've noticed this acutely since I've become a mom. Even though I often struggle to balance work and childcare, I am somehow on Facebook more than ever before. I'm sure some of that has to do with the ridiculous number of photos I snap on my phone and immediately upload to my wall (sorry not sorry, first time mom here), but it's also become much too easy to peruse my News Feed while nursing, or rocking Baby Cakes to sleep, or sitting in a parked car passing time while he finishes an impromptu nap.

I love Facebook for the connection to family and friends it affords. How else would I keep up with how my friends' adorable children are growing, and what fun things my extended family living all over the country are up to? I hate Facebook for feeding my desire to compare my life to everyone else's - my body, my mind, my kid, my husband, my faith. As a wise woman once told me, "Comparison is the root of all inferiority." Thanks, Mom. You are so totally right.

And thus, the complicated relationship status Facebook and I share. I've decided that there are much more life-giving and productive things I can do with my precious time than fuel my insecurities or stuff my head with wholly unsatisfying pop culture news. I'm not saying Facebook is evil or you should purposefully drop your smart phone into the toilet bowl. I am saying that in this season of my own life, it's become an unhealthy addiction. And I challenge you to do some introspection and see if there's something in your life that's doing the same kind of life-sucking to you.

I'll check in once in a while. After all, that Durham Mommies Helpline and Triangle Mommies Swap Shop are pretty amazing Facebook groups. And I absolutely want to catch up with extended family once in a while. But Facebook and I are about to take an extended, quite possibly long-term, break. And I'm ---  feeling determined.

Tori

P.S. I know family in particular will want to see photos of Brooks. I'll be posting those on this blog from now on. I made it several years ago - might as well use it!