Financially Speaking

We are in the midst of figuring out how to finance our remodel and, more importantly, the twins.  Because I am new to most of this financial stuff, I thought I'd share some of the things we've learned, in case you, or some random googler, needs some information on what financing a remodel involves.  (I'm talking mostly about financing the remodel.  We aren't financing the twins beyond eating nothing but ramen noodles from January until August of next year, when we're paying $2000+ a month for three children in daycare.  Y.I.K.E.S.)

First, some basics about how we are approaching this.  Our remodel has to cost less than $120k, so that we do not have to get a jumbo loan.  When you hear all the news about current low interest rates, it applies only to loans under $417,000.  Over that amount and I think the lowest interest rates are around 7%.  For all of my friends and family in NYC and CA, bless your little high mortgage paying hearts.  We actually have the option of going a bit more than $120k for our budget, but we are not going to tell our contractors. 

We are also planning on doing a lot of the remodel ourselves to save as much money as we can.  We're going to paint.  We're going to put in the baseboards and crown molding. We're using laminate instead of granite.   We are going to finish one bedroom and bathroom ourselves.  We are going to build the master closet organizational system ourselves.  We're going to re-use or kitchen cabinets when we move one wall.  We're making the remodel of the downstairs bathroom (the "Butt Ugly Bathroom" as it's known) and the claw foot tub for the master bath optional. Those can wait several years (approximately 5 years, when the twins are out of daycare!) before they are done.  Whatever is optional for us to get an occupency permit, if it doesn't fit in the budget, it's not getting done.

Another key issue is that we're going to have to move out the house while they remodel.  They are taking the top off our house.  No roof on the house means, well, no roof over our heads.  That means we have to rent a house for about, oh, 4 to 6 months, while they do the remodel.  Perhaps now, you're thinking, hmmmmm, rent and mortgage?  ARE YOUR OUT OF YOUR EVER LOVING MIND?!?!?!?

Here's where Dave's hard work comes in.  He has found that banks carry a whole bunch of different "products"  to help with remodels. Some fully expect that you are going to pay mortgage and rent at the same time.  (Assholes)  Some will let you only pay accruing interest on the mortgage and renovation loan.  (Not really a bargain, but not as assholishly unrealistic)  And we think that the state employee credit union allows a 6 month grace period where you don't pay anything on the loan.  (WOOHOO!  Except that interest gets rolled into the final loan and eats up a significant part of our wiggle room to stay under jumbo loan size).  The good news is that we've found a rental for quite a bit less than we're paying now that would allow us to pay interest during the remodel. So that may be workable.  

At the end of the remodel, the bank then refinances everything---the mortgage and the renovation loan---into a new 30 year loan.  (Or a 15 year one, I guess. Bwhahahahahah! Those folks can afford both mortgage and rent)  Our goal is to end up with this final loan at one of the non-profit banks (banking services?) in which we are members.  Why?  If we choose an ARM, at the state employee bank, the max the interest rate could increase after 5 years is 1.5%.  At Wells Fargo, it could go up a full 5%.  If we go for a fixed-rate loan, USAA just has better rates and services than we've seen elsewhere.  I also feel like I can trust a non-profit better to not take advantage of us over a for profit bank (trying to make up profit for bad decisions over the last decade).  

So that is all I know about how one finances a remodel.  I have to be honest that I freaked out a bit last week when I found out that the new plans add more square footage (and more $$$) than we had originally planned.  But I still think we're in the ball park to get this thing done.  And if we're not, well.  I don't know what we'll do if we're not at least in the ball park.  Actually, I do know what we'll do.  The architects have already said they would work on the drawings until they get the plans to the budget we need.  

There you go.  YIKES.  Here we go!

Twins

So, at a little over 15 weeks of twin pregnancy, I have some observations to share about what it's like to be pregnant with twins.

First, it is a boatload of fun to see people's reactions when they find out that it actually is twins.  The most common response is the bug-eyed, slack jawed reaction. There is also a slight head adjustment  in which people move their entire heads forward in disbelief.  It's a lot of fun to tell people I'm having twins!  I'm going to be sad when everyone knows and I can't shock anyone any more.

Second, shocking people at having twins is going to be less likely over the next weeks and months.  My belly is HUGE.  And it's just going to get bigger.  I know you've seen the belly shots from a few weeks ago, but it really doesn't do justice to how quickly I'm growing.  Here's an objective example.  On Monday, I bought a new jumbo sized swimsuit to swim laps in.  While there are tons of maternity swimsuits, they are mostly for splashing around the pool and not for actually exercising in.  My enormous arms and back are crying out for a little toning, so I want to swim.  So I bought a regular, but jumbo sized speedo swimsuit on Monday.  On Friday, when I put it on to go to the gym:  it didn't fit.  I could not pull it up over my belly.  Monday, fit; Friday, too small.  That is how quickly I am growing big.  Again, let us all note that I am 15 weeks.  I swam in my regular jumbo sized bathing suit with Conor until I gave birth.  Y.I.K.E.S.  

Finally, I am pooped.  POOPED.  POOOOOOPED.  Friday night, I passed out on the sofa at 7:15.  I finally got off the sofa and stumbled into bed about 9:30 and slept mostly ok until 7 am.  Then on Saturday afternoon, I took a 2 hour nap.  I had only a little problem going to sleep Saturday night and am looking forward to going to bed early tonight.   I am concerned about my energy level.  To read and write (what professors do a lot of), I need a wee bit more energy than I am feeling at this exact moment.  And without the liquid motivation that is coffee, I am concerned about writing the 4 papers and the grant I want to get done before I pop out these two babies.  

So, umm, yeah.  Twins.  It is not the same pregnancy as Conor.  I'm sure my age isn't helping, and the fact that I'm not in as good of shape as I was with Conor.  Still.  It's not the same at all.

It's great.  Really.  I am loving it.  But a few extra hours in the day when I could sleep would make it all a lot better. 

The Long and Short of It

I'm back to my curly headed self.  And my hair has shrunk back up to between my shoulder blades.  Also, the blow drying and flat ironing fried my hair.  It was straw on Monday after I washed it.  I put in a deep conditioner tonight and hopefully by tomorrow, it will be somewhat back to normal.

This is the longest time I've had straight hair and the only time I've let people close to me see it.  Carrol is right that being curly is a key part of my identity.  And it freaked both my husband and my family out.  It really changed the way I look.  Fortunately, I do not often look like Kirstie Alley.  But there were other things.

It made my face look bigger.  My curly hair has always dominated my face and my bone structure has looked too delicate.  But straightening my hair made my bones look bigger (I think) and certainly made me look very bloated.  Yes, the weight gain has something to do with that, but I looked like I put on 10 lbs pre to post straight hair.

Second, I've always wanted long straight hair.  But I have to be honest with you:  straight hair is a pain in the butt.  My hair was everywhere all the time.  With my curly hair, I can just pin back a curl or two and go.  With long hair, I had to deal with whole swaths of it and even then, it kept creeping back to hang in my face.  (Probably trying to hide one of the chins)  I'm sure it's just what I'm used to, but I'm surprised to find that I like my curly self.  I wouldn't mind playing with straight hair a couple of times a year and be curly the rest of the time.

As for my weight gain, thank you all for kindly saying that I was not quite yet the size of Moby Dick.  I am, however, about 4 lbs from what I weighted when I gave birth to Conor.  One might note that at 14w5d, I still have a ways to go and a boatload of weight to gain. I know it's for the babies.  And I do believe with every pound I gain, I am more likely to have healthy, term babies ready to breastfeed and take home from the hospital.  That said, when you see my chins, my enormous butt, or worst of all, the rolls of fat on my back (AHHHHHH!), judge me not.

Or I might eat you.  It could come to that.    

Cousin Itt, Jennifer Aniston, and Kirstie Alley

Yes, indeedy.  What do Cousin Itt, Jennifer Aniston, and Kirstie Alley have in common?  Why, me with straight hair.  

Yesterday, while getting my roots dyed to sort of match my highlights, my junior stylist-in-training suggested that we blow dry my hair straight  Since it wouldn't cost anything more than walking out the door with wet hair, I said sure!  Well, 1 1/2 hours later....

Yes.  It took my junior stylist and 2 other senior stylists One and One-Half Fracking hours to blow my hair straight.  Maybe people with normal hair would feel special in a positive way having 3 stylists working on her hair, but I was feeling most definitely short-bus special because of my ultra curly, ultra fine (who knew?), many haired head.  I will be quite honest that when they started working on the front of my hair, I could barely see through the strands, and the image I saw was much like Cousin Itt above.

But then they finished, and parted it to the side.  And maybe it was because my hair was hanging half in my face and I didn't have my glasses on, but my first thought was "Holy cow!  I look like a fat Jennifer Aniston!!!"  When I was skinny and first moved out here, my students thought I looked a bit like JA, but now, honestly, not so much.  Dave, probably just being kind, does agree that he can see a bit of the chubby Aniston look.

Nonetheless, the resemblence to Jennifer was fleeting at best.  No, every time I look in the mirror now, Kirstie Alley peers back.  And not the thin Kirstie Alley.  The current Kirstie Alley.  With bad makeup.  And Dave agrees.  Yes, there is a Kirstie in there, too.

Ok! Ok!  I know you want a picture.  Look how long my hair is!  Friends in real life just screamed that out loud.  Who knew that curly hair could stretch that far when straight?  It's past my bra straight and curly, it's between my shoulders.  

And ((((sigh)))), what I notice most about this picture is how fat my back is.  I didn't realize how much this weight gain is bothering me until I warned a friend that when she saw me, I was going to look really bloated and I started to cry.  Dave keeps reassuring me that I'm pregnant with twins, not fat.  But when I look in the mirror and count the chins, I feel ugly.  (Which explains my recent binge on cosmetics--as soon as I feel fat, I but something cheap to make me feel pretty.  I have 3 new lipsticks, new mascara, and eye shadow de-creaser).  

I believe from the research that the weight gain will strongly increase my chances of carrying the babies to term. And even if they are early, my weight gain will make them fatter, which is one of the best predictors of premie survival.  

None. The. Less.  I am fat.  I've gained 15 lbs already, which is on the low end of what Dr. Luke recommends.  And I'll likely gain about 30 more lbs.  45 lbs in total is, again, what she recommends that I gain.  Bleah.  Fat.  

Skinny, though, I think this hair style would be cute.  And maybe I really would look like Jennifer Aniston.

A Clean House

Last year, after some raise or another, we decided to splurge on getting a housekeeper to come to our house twice a month. (I'm pretty sure that blew the entire raise and then some, but the joy of a clean house makes it worth it)  We have some  friends who have objected to hiring someone to clean the house because of its bourgeois implications and the possibility of taking advantage of others.  One might note, this same couple recently hired our housekeeper. 

In any case, last night we arrived home late and entered the back door rejoicing in the smell of pine sol as well as a variety of other clean smells.  I realized at that moment how unusual those smells in our house and felt a mixture of compuction and sloth.  We love Sue.  We love what she does to our house.  And we love how every two weeks, our house is clean and beautiful.

Of course, the night and morning before her visit, we clean our house the most.  It's a frenzy of laundry folding, toy storage, and magazine stack recycling.  Dave has noted that we really don't need a cleaner as much as the threat of a cleaner coming the next day to make us actually clean our own house.  

But then we'd miss the clean smell. And that would make me unhappy.  

And last night was ironic as I walked around loving my house and realizing that we had just had our last meeting with the architects on the remodel.  I think we've worked out most of the details and are working on a schedule to start construction Feb 28.  (YIKES)  We may be renting the house directly behind ours for the duration of the remodel, a stroke of luck after the poopie head, dog hating renters will be moving out mid-February.  The joy of their 10 surrounding dog owning neighbors was assumed after a collective cheer followed by hip shaking, tongue sticking out dancing was observed.    Na-na-na-na-boo-boo was also heard.  

The babies are also doing really well.  We had our latest OB appointment on Monday, in which I attended the OB Clinic.  I thought it was sort of a Welcome to Our OB Practice, until I found out it was a special event for high risk patients (twins, auto-immune, old hag).  Pick just one and I qualify.  Baby A's heartrate was 164 and Baby B was 168.  They are perfect.  

I, on the other hand, am huge.  I'm starting swimming again this weekend, once I find a ginormous speedo (not an oxymoron).  I will feel better about my arms if they a little more muscle and a little less flab in them.  Ditto for my fat back.  Swimming will also help my core, so I'm hoping to start swimming 3 or so days a week.  I'm not going to get any smaller; I might as well get a bit more muscular.  Of course, will anyone be able to see muscles under the layers of fat?  Good question. Don't ask it to my face.  

So, in conclusion, our house is clean, we're really going to add on to it, the babies are fine, and I'm enormous.  (Double chins have been spotted.  Easily.  Although considering that my face sort of fades into my neck without the assistance of a jaw, it's not that hard for me to get a double chin) 

You are now up to date on the mother thing household.   

Start of the New Year

I am back from a wonderful family cruise to celebrate my parent's 50th wedding anniversary.  Yes, we celebrated Dave's parent's 50th wedding anniversary at the end of the year and my parent's 50th anniversary at the beginning of the year.  We have celebrated anniversaries this last month.

The cruise, our first, was actually pretty cool.  The weather was nice and the food was good.  Carnival Cruises has *free* camp daycare for children over 2 years old from approximately 9 am until 10 pm at night (with a few breaks).  We did not leave Conor in there for even just one entire day, but it was nice to drop him off for a few hours so he could do kid things (color, dance lessons--the sprinkler?, crafts, truck races, etc) and we could do grown up things (be lazy, play cards).  

All in all, we totally recommend cruises for family vacations.  Lots of opportunities for everyone and you don't have to cook or clean.  How cool is that?

Of course, we unwittingly continued Dave's family tradition on family vacations--a somewhat serious trip to the emergency room.  We did not plan on doing this, yet, it happened.

We got on the ship about 11:30 am on Monday.  At about 4:30 pm on Monday, the ship pushed off the dock.  At this point, Dave got his first umbrella drink* and I got a fake umbrella drink.  We were all on the top deck of the ship looking watching the cruise shop and enjoying the weather.  Conor was playing "make believe" golf on the putt-putt course we were looking forward to playing on.  Make believe golf is apparently a combination of golf and baseball, in which one pretends to putt the ball and then run around the hole.  Except this time, Conor decided to run up the putt-putt course and tripped.  He fell on the only big, jagged obstacle on the entire course, a fake tree stump with pointed edges. 

He screamed.  Even as I was running towards him, I could see the blood around him on the putting green.  I picked him up and he had a bloody hand over his eye.  I swear to God that for one horrifying moment, I thought he had punctured his eye.  I pulled his hand down and saw, instead, a huge bloody hole in his forehead.  

Dave reached us and scooped up Conor as we began to run for the infirmary, having absolutely no idea where it was.  We went down a deck and found a waitress serving drinks.  She took one look at us, put her hand to her mouth and screamed.  ("Ok!  It *is* as bad as I think it is," I thought to myself)  She ran us down to the elevator and sent us to the third floor.  A kind couple got on the elevator with us and helped us get to the third floor, explaining where the infirmary was.  Fortunately, it was directly off the elevator.

We arrived and a very efficient and calm nurse took us immediately to the back.  Conor was covered in blood by this time and we were all very upset.  She wiped off the blood off his hands, his chin, and his face and we got to see that yes, indeedy, that was a big ass gash on his forehead.  Stitches were not optional.  

I can go into the gory details, which I do repeatedly when I think about it and get upset, but it was pretty awful for both Conor and me.  Dave, being used to stitches on family vacations, was less freaked out.  But there was a flushing of the wound with a long needle from underneath the skin.  We had to restrain Conor for quite a while as he screamed "OUCHY!  OUCHY!  IT HURTS."  The first set of thin stitches broke, so we had to go with thicker ones.  It was rough.

And then it was over and Conor felt much better.  Once the act of giving him the two stitches were over, he was really and truly fine.  And our nurse spent a substantial amount of time determining that Conor had indeed had his tetanus shot and followed up with us 3 days later to check on the wound and Conor.  Really.  That meant a lot to us.  

Of course, that's still not the whole story.  As we were running for the elevator, my narcissistic body decided to have its own breakdown.  Turning and running into the elevator door, I felt my calf seize and I heard it pop as the cramp ripped apart.  This is the time when all the attention should be on my son and his injury and all of a sudden, I'm lame and shouting out "Fuckity fuck" on the elevator.  The good news is that I really only couldn't walk for about 2 or 3 days.  The bad news is that when I started to be able to walk better, that's when the bruise from the muscle ripping started to show.  By Friday, the entire back of my leg from the middle of my calf to the bottom of my foot was black and blue.  Why yes, it *is* very attractive.  

Dave said he was holding a bleeding Conor and saw me limping into the elevator, he was like "Oh, crap.  How can I take care of both of them."  He later told me "I chose Conor, you know."  "As well you should have," I replied.  We, unlike others, agree this is the right choice for us.

In any case, we got the family drama over with early.  The rest of the trip was thrillingly and happily healthy and fun.  Conor's scar should be minimal and I don't really care about my leg.  It still works and that's fine.  

School starts back tomorrow and I certainly cannot complain that I did not do anything this winter break.

Looking Swell

We had our first trimester screen on Wednesday, and, as the doctor says, everything looks perfectly normal.  Both babies were jumping around, measuring right on time, and had fantastic heartbeats.  Their nuchal folds were well within normal, indicating a low likelihood of a chromosomal problem.  We are obviously thrilled.

Even better, I finally got to talk to a doctor who has some serious knowledge about my auto-immune treatment.  He was able to cite research and has done the most to convince me that after the first trimester, now that the pregnancy is well established, I no longer have to inject myself with Lovenox.  I do not have an identified thrombophilia problem (blood clotting issue).  And although no one has yet to disagree that my eczema from the last pregnancy was a sign of an auto-immune problem, Lovenox is not going to affect that--the prednisone did.  He did say I could continue on with the Lovenox injections for the rest of the pregnancy if I wanted, but he did not think it was necessary.  

In any case, I am seriously considering stopping the Lovenox.  

And tonight is our last progesterone in oil shot and my last dose of estrogen tablets.  I am so psyched!!!  My husband will no longer be a literal pain in the butt!!

I am also pretty sure that I've already felt both babies move.  I am twelve weeks along, folks.  Women who have already had children seem to quickly forget how incredibly early that is to feel something.  (indeed, I just felt a little butterfly squiggle when I wrote that)  I didn't feel Conor until February of our pregnancy, at about 17 or 18 weeks.  I'm a full 6 weeks earlier with these babies.  And my belly is HUGE.  And it's just going to get bigger!  

It just feels crazy.  Twins are crazy.  And we're crazy about them already.

Fat and Tired

We're just arrived back from Rockford, IL to celebrate Dave's parent's 50th wedding anniversary.  It was a lot of fun and Conor nearly levitated with happiness to spend time with his 11 cousins (one cousin, his godmother, could not make it as she is currently deployed chasing pirates off the coast of Africa).  Honestly, Conor *loves* being around his cousins.  He always shows off their pictures to all our guests including  repairmen and, actually, my mother-in-law. They all kindly remark on how wonderful his cousins are.  

In other news, things are going well pregnancy-wise.  I am about 1/2 lb behind schedule on the weight gain, but considering that next week, we're going on a cruise to celebrate *my* parent's 50th wedding anniversary, I have no doubt that I'll be able to make up that 1/2 lb and the 2 additional ones I'm supposed to gain.  

The good news is that the nausea is almost completely gone.  The bad news is that the fatigue has increased exponentially.  Being the wonderful daughter/sister-in-law that I am, I spent pretty much all of the time on this trip either eating or napping.  BP (before pregnancy), a 2 1/2 hour nap meant a late bedtime.  Now it means I can stay up until 9:30.  I am so glad I am not teaching at this exact moment because I'm pretty sure I could slip into a coma during a pause in the class discussion.  

And my belly.  Folks, this is a picture of me at 11 weeks pregnant.  

Eleven weeks pregnant!  I'm huge!  And it's not my uterus.  That's still pretty low.  It's my guts getting moved all around from my growing belly at the bottom.  Besides the fact that this is my 5th pregnancy, so things have moved around before, the twins and the surgery have made things change a lot quicker.  Plus, I guess, those 10 lbs didn't just go straight to my massive, flabby upper arms.  

Ok, enough about me.  The next post is going to be about Conor and Christmas.  I have a picture of Conor just before he jumped up and down seeing presents from Santa Claus.  

Now I have to decide if I can take a nap, whether to work my syllabus for next semester, or take a shower.  All 3 have to happen today, but I'm not sure in which order.  

The Remodel

We've known since we moved into this house that we were going to need to remodel it at some point.  And although we've put a bathroom here, a home office there, we had decided to put off a full remodel.  Until now.  

We've been meeting with an architect for the last 5 months or so.  We had actually decided on a nice plan until the architect asked us where Conor was going to sleep once the twins were born.  (One  might note this was in the last 5 minutes of our 1 1/2 hour conversation)  We looked at each other and couldn't really figure out how three children would fit into our house.  We could see how we could cobble together a nursery for the twins, but actual bedrooms?  Not so obvious.  

So our architect went back to the drawing board and made a few more adjustments that 1) add another bedroom and bath and 2) will let us phase in the construction.  What that means is that they will frame it out and officially call it storage space and then Dave will take the next year to add the drywall and flooring and tile/toilet/shower to finish it up.  This will save us a boatload of money but allow us to actually have a big enough house.  

What is pretty funny is that it's not really going to be a BIG house.  But for us, it will seem enormous.  We think this is a good thing because it will still capture the spirit of our 1940's working class house but will let us feel a bit more spacious and modern.

So what are we doing?  We're taking over the back deck and making it a "real" room.  It will extend our family room and also give us a (grown up!) laundry and mud room!  The stairs to the second floor will also be there.  

On the second floor, we'll have a loft/landing area which we think could serve as an upstairs family room or make shift guest accommodations.  We'll also have a smallish bedroom (all of our bedrooms are small to smallish) with a closet and a bath.  Then we'll have the master suite, which will be huge to us and moderate to most suburban houses, with a gas fireplace and a sun room.  We'll also have a walk-in closet (quite unlike any other closet in the house...of which there are only two very small closets in our house), and the master bath.  Because of our old neighborhood, we're going to have several dormer windows and bay windows and most exciting of all, the 7 foot bathtub will be housed in a bay window off the bathroom.  (((sigh)))  I will be sure to wave to the neighbors when I take my baths.  (Window treatments are going to be important there!)

Of course, what that also means is that we're going to have to move out of the house for a few months while they "pop the top."  Perhaps we could stay in our home, but with all the lead paint and asbestos likely to be floating around, we think the best option for Conor and me would to be out.  Perhaps Dave can stay and breathe all the bad air while Conor and I are in a hotel.  :-)

Best of all, we currently believe that because of the economy, the remodel will cost about 20-30% less this year than if we had done it last year.  And with the current mortgage rates (and that we absolutely cannot and will not go near the amount for  a jumbo loan), when we refinance everything at the end, we may not actually be paying any more per month than we are paying now.  

So there.  We're doing quite a bit over the next couple of months.  I'll be growing a few new babies and we'll be growing a new house.  It should make for very interesting blogging times.  

And, of course, speaking of the babies, I am now 10 weeks along, and I am totally showing.  I honestly feel like I am getting bigger by the hour.  I can't believe that I'm already showing this early along.  

Time to finish grading my finals.  Yippee!

Waist Not, Rock Not

The pebble in Conor's ear was not too big of a deal.  He was very upset that he had done something wrong.  And quite scared when the doctor had to pull it out.  He said it hurt coming out, but I'm sure it was more of the loud sound of it moving around in his ear that was more frightening.  

There was a moment when the doc was having problems that she intimated that we might have to take it up a notch with a more specialized doctor if she couldn't get it out.  (Do pediatric ENTs specialize in rock removal?!)  Fortunately, she got it out, we put it in a specimen bottle, and she marked to visit with the code "Foreign Object Removal Ear."  I find that amusing.  It's obviously not even close to being a rare event in the pediatrician's office.  

As far as what once was my waist, at 9 1/2 weeks pregnant I am fully in maternity clothes.  I had lost about 10 lbs over the summer and so I was thinking that I could wear my fat clothes in the early pregnancy.  However, they are falling right off of me when I put them on.  (Even colleagues note that "Dude, those pants are way too big.") And I can't wear my regular clothes because I cannot button the tops of my pants.  

And I know that even though there are two in there, my uterus is still not big enough for me to be "showing."  What's up?

Apparently, my uterus, although still small and not visible, is pushing my internal organs around.  Thus, my waist is much bigger than it normally is at this weight.  Even worse, I think it's obvious that, because of this spring's surgery, my belly button is the weak part of my stomach.  Indeed, my belly button has almost already popped.  9 1/2 weeks!  And my belly button has almost popped!  Ugh.  I'm just not envisioning my belly to be the prettiest thing ever seen, what with the enormous scars from the surgery making a smiley face around my belly button and the black and blue track marks from the Lovenox. It causes my dear loving husband to shudder sometimes.  Anyone want to venture a guess on what the heck my scars are going to do as my belly expands with two babies?  I'm voting Not Pretty, whatever it turns out to be.  

Oddly, I look much thinner in the maternity clothes than I do in my regular clothes, so I'm psyched about that.  (Buttons not straining to reach and all that, I suppose)  So I guess there is a silver lining here anyway.  And Conor's rock is out of his ear. That could have ended up being a much worse story than it did.  Thank goodness.

Things I'm Surprised to Say

"Son, don't touch with your penis at the breakfast table."

"But it's itchy."

"Hmmmmm, it might be time to wash those pajamas."

And today....

"No, I'm not going to be able to grade this afternoon because I have to take my son to the doctor to get a pebble out of his ear."

Food and Fatigue

I've been trying to strictly follow the Dr. Luke Diet, but after gaining over 4 lbs in one week, I figured I could probably cut back a little bit.  It occurs to me that she may have written that diet for twenty-somethings and not for women, ahem, over 35.  My metabolism is not the same as it was in my 20's and since I'm still not allowed to exercise, I'm not really burning off that many calories.  So I'm going to try to keep the protein and dairy consumption up a high level, but I am not going to make myself sick trying to get to 3500 calories a day.

What's become more of a problem is the fatigue.  I am absolutely pooped a great deal of the time.  I took a 10 minute nap yesterday when I got home so I could cook dinner.  And then I was in bed by 9:00.  Ironically, Conor was still up by 9:00.  He's been going to sleep later (not to bed later, but to sleep later) and I've been going to bed earlier.  There has been overlap in our bedtimes and I'm just too tired to argue when he asks to come in bed with me.  Also, it's fun to read our magazines together and then go to sleep.  If Dave comes to bed late enough, he can take Conor in for his late night pee-pee and then put him back in his own bed.  It's a win-win for everyone.  

I'm hoping that I'm at the peak of both the fatigue and nausea part of my pregnancy.  I've forgotten what it's like to not feel gross around food.  Or what it's like to not want to take a nap every few hours of the day.  

A few more weeks.  I'll be glad to be back to normal.  Well, normal while pregnant with twins.

Still Looking Good

The ultrasound went really well yesterday. The subchorionic hemorrhage is gone (hooray!) and the babies had a bit of a growth spurt since Monday. I was 8w1d yesterday and Baby A measured at 8w0d and Baby B (the bruiser) measured at 8w3d. Heartrates were at 178 and 180 respectively.

I am *not* doing any cardio exercise though. I may do some walking and yoga, and I'd like to swim, but I'm going to wait until we've gotten past the 10 week Level I screen before I do any cardio. That's when we found out that Colleen (miscarrage #3) had too high of a heartbeat and I didn't stop exercising---which I should have.

In other eating news, I am switching from my regular diet of eating as much food with as few of calories to eating as little food with as much calories as possible. My first day following Dr. Luke was painful because I was just eating more of my "regular" food. I thought my stomach was going to explode. Then I got 2% milk, full fat yogurt, cheese, ice cream and some meat and was not in nearly as much pain the second day. By the way, cheese is my friend: 2 oz of cheese, which is not that much, has more calories than a chicken breast. That certainly explains why I don't lose weight when I'm eating cheese, but that counts for two servings of dairy and 240 very good, non bloating calories on this diet.

Oddly, I'm also finding that although I'm eating a substantial amount of food at each meal and snack---I am STILL getting hungry! I even had a double 1/4 lb cheeseburger for lunch at school on Thursday, and I was still quite hungry afterwards. Yikes!!

It is cognitively Very Weird to try to get fat. It's why Dave has to listen to me repetively cite the benefits of this early weight gain. He doesn't care, but I am still convincing myself.

It's 9 am on a Saturday. It might be time for another nap.

I Am Full

Everything is going well with the spotting, which means there is none.  I am taking it easy, although I'm no longer trying for full bed rest.  I'm just trying to not stand on my feet all that long at any one time.  

We go back Friday for another ultrasound and I'm really looking forward to it!  I am also imagining two little beans in my belly with two strong heartbeats as they start to grow their arm and leg buds.  

What is more on my mind, or more literally in my belly, is what I'm eating and going to be eating during this healthy pregnancy.  In the infertile world where more people than you would imagine end up with twins, I have constantly heard women sing the praises of Dr. Barbara Luke, a professor/researcher/epidemiologist/MPH/registered dietitian who runs a program to help women with their nutrition during twin pregnancies.  She is also a full professor at the University of Miami Medical school, which in my world means she's done significant research and is recognized by a prestigious university as an internationally known scholar.  

So, yeah, she has a few academic credentials.  

But because I am a critical scholar, I also checked out her academic publications through our school.  (We don't have a medical school, but we have a big school of nursing and have a ton of medical journals available to us)  The most impressive peer reviewed, academic study I found by her and her research team involves comparing 190 mothers of twins who've followed her nutritional program to  331 "regular" mothers of twins, all of whom gave birth over 6 years at the University of Michigan hospital.  These women were not randomly assigned to the program, it's one main drawback, but they are all using a university hospital, so they are not completely different populations.  

In any case, the mothers who followed her nutritional program reduced by *more* than half their chances of having preterm labor, preeclampsia and babies' time in the NICU.  They also increased their chances by more than half of giving birth after 36 weeks and increased by 2.5 times their chances of having a baby who was not low birth weight.  Those are impressive results.

I know from some of my criticisms of non-randomized research that you can often explain health outcomes by the "healthy" third variable.  For example, people who very strictly follow their doctor's advice on taking medications are more likely to have healthy outcomes.  And this doesn't matter if the medicine is real or a placebo!  So people who follow her nutritional plan may simply be part of this healthy third variable group--they are just naturally and conscientiously healthier people.  

Nonetheless, when one sees changes as big as these changes--reducing problems by one half and increasing positives by more than a half---one is more likely to believe that the results of the study are due to real program effects and not population differences.  

So yay--a way to improve the odds of us "going all the way" and taking the babies home with me when I leave the hospital.  Which just so happen to be my two main goals with this pregnancy.

What's the nutritional program?  Gaining a boatload of weight the first 20 weeks.  How much weight?  (((Gulp))) 25 pounds by 20 weeks.  She wants a total weight gain for someone my size (which I would like to point out is exactly in the middle of normal for my height.  Ha!  I keep thinking I'm really fat.  But after living in LA, maybe normal/average is fat) of between 40 and 55  lbs for the whole pregnancy.  Yes.  That *is* a lot of weight?  And how do I do it? By eating around 3500 calories a day.  

Holy. Shit.  Do you know how much food 3500 calories represents?  It is a LOT of food.  I thought that it was supposed to be just a lot of protein, but in all honesty, it's the same proportion of proteins to carbs to fats as the FDA food pyramid; it's just a boatload of food.  

Oh. My. God(dess).  I feel like Rene Zellweger gaining weight for Bridget Jones' Diary.  It is not fun at all.  It's one thing to go overboard and eat 2800 calories in one day.  It is quite another to eat 3500 calories every day and not be training for an ultra-marathon.  I am telling you right now that this is worse than any "diet" I've ever been on in my life.  

And yes, I can see why one would think this was bullshit and just eat a little bit more than normal.  But when I see that I have at least some control that is clearly within my own power to go to term with these babies, to not have them be in the NICU, and to take them home with me as fat and healthy as Conor was, I look at the clock and plan when I'm going to have that piece of whole wheat fiber toast with cashew butter and a banana for a "snack."  (That would have been a hardy breakfast a few weeks ago) 

Pelvic Rest

I have been spotting about once a day for the last week or so.  It's been brown, so I really haven't been that worried.  Also, I found this site which argues that spotting is quite common with IVF treatments because the estrogen and progesterone have made one's lining quite fluffy. It's, therefore, more likely to spot a bit.

Then yesterday morning, we went from spotting to bleeding.  It was a qualitatively different event.  I freaked out a lot and called my doctor, who then scheduled an ultrasound for yesterday afternoon. 

There is no bad news.  The good news is that the babies have grown (though not as much as I'd like) and their heartrates are perfect.  They also found a subchorionic bleed next to baby B. It was very small, but could explain why there was bleeding.  I wish it wasn't there and I can't understand why I have a clot when I'm on lovenox and baby aspirin.  It makes me more cautious than ever about going off the lovenox any time soon.

So now I'm on "pelvic rest."  I'm not supposed to lift anything heavy or to stand while I'm at work.  I contacted the CA clinic who said that 70% of their IVF patients have some bleeding in early pg (very much like the link above suggests).  In addition, the "vast majority" go on to deliver healthy babies.  They, however, hinted that they would have recommended full bedrest.

I do  think everything is going to be ok.  The babies look great.  I really think it's going to turn out ok. It just wasn't a lot of fun yesterday.  

Twins

So, ummm, yeah!

We are adjusting to having twins.  And yes, I do know it's still  early and all that stuff, but things are looking great and there's no reason to think otherwise, so I'm thinking that come July 1, we'll be the proud and sleep deprived parents of twins.  

Oh. My. God(dess).

As my mom and dad said, it's one thing to think you're having twins and quite another to know it.  So Dave and I decided also when we were both wide awake on Monday night around 2 am.  

We are obviously really excited, but there are issues.  Like, neither of our current cars can hold two rear facing infant car seats, much less two rear facing infant car seats, a 5 year old in a booster seat and a dog.  That problem was actually resolved fairly quickly by at least identifying that the 2004 Honda Odyssey (ahem, minivan) is holding up very well for a used car and is very reasonably priced on Car Max.  

We also need to get moving on this remodel.  The timing and the financial situation are actually really good right now if 1) we can figure out the best financing option and 2) find a contractor willing to let us buy some of our own material at a cheaper price and do some of the work ourselves.  And we also have to find a place to live for a couple of months since they will be adding a second story and our house won't have a roof.  Yikes.  

And then, what is most concerning to me, is making sure I do not go into preterm labor.  I've had friends who have had months of preterm labor and bedrest and premature twins and friends who kicked booty and, although were majorly uncomfortable, had very healthy babies.  I'm wanting to be like option #2.  I've already ordered a few books and am surfing the web and the med journals for info.  Basically, my preliminary conclusions are that 1) I need to gain a substantial amount of protein based weight to help my uterus grow and 2) I need to take some serious calcium supplements.  I know that freaking out about pretern labor may seem a wee bit early, but what I'm seeing is that the recommendations are a 20 lb weight gain by 22 weeks.  And at 7 weeks, considering I've lost a few pounds, it seems like I ought to be paying attention to what I'm eating.  

In any case, HOLY COW, I'm still   a bit freaked out!  We're excited!  Yes, we are!!  But there are  a few things to do before we give birth.  And this doesn't even include the two research papers, book chapter, and the NSF grant I want to get out before I give birth.

But as my new guru Oprah says, you can only do one thing at a time.  So don't freak yourself out about how many things you need to do.  You can only take one step at a time.  While you're running, screaming down the street.    

Tranes, Mushrooms and Guacamole

Our new heating system, a Trane, was installed on Friday,  and there was much rejoicing.  It's amazing how used one can get to being cold all the time.  Actually, no.  I never got used to it.  I just got used to moving the space heaters around the house according to what we were doing. What's even better is that with this new system, it's also obvious how bad the old system was.  Now, we're warm in *every* room.  Not just the ones right where the heater came into the house.  They still need to hook up the electrical part of it; a sensor is missing.  Still, it's warm.  And we are happy.

On other fronts, we are quite surprised that Conor has a mushroom on his knee.  Wha????  He actually has ringworm on his knee, but despite its name, it's actually a fungus.  So really, he has a mushroom growing on the skin around his knee.  He most likely got it playing in the mulch around the rain garden, according to the vet when we took Patches in to see if he was the culprit.  We're treating him with antifungal cream which takes about two weeks to a month to heal, for Pete's sake.  We're trying not to call it ringWORM around Conor too much because I think it could freak him out.  We're also not calling it a mushroom on his knee much either.  Mainly, we're just putting medicine on his "thing" twice a day.  (Which sounds totally inappropriate when I say it like that).  Still, it's a thing and he's not freaking out about it.  That's the good part.  

Finally, Holy Guacamole, folks.  We've got some news and if I was a better writer I could tie together the heater, the ringworm and this final bit of info.  Nonetheless, after battling off a migraine this morning (from the extra hormones) and trying to keep the cheese I just ate down, I have something big to tell you.  We went in for our ultrasound this morning.  I was worried because I haven't been having as bad of pg symptoms for the last couple of days, i.e., I could eat.  A lot.  And I wanted to eat a lot.  

Also, I was supposed to have the OB's appointment first and then the ultrasound, but they switched it.  Dave was going to skip the OB and just be there for the u/s.  But they were very kind and by the time I'd peed and gotten undressed (with my socks still on because it was COLD), Dave arrived.  

We held hands, while they started the ultrasound.  We haven't always had good luck with these things, so I'm sure I was squeezing his hand pretty tightly.  She kept the screen facing her so I couldn't see what was happening.  "Well," she said, "I can definitely see a heartbeat."  

Oh, thank goodness, I thought.  Everything is going to be ok.

"Actually," she continued, "heartbeats. There are two.  I didn't want to say anything until I could see both heartbeats."  

Oh. My. God(dess).  

I had totally convinced myself that there was only one in there.  Dave has been sure all along that there were two (as were my parents).  But I was convinced there was only one.  I mean, I've been queasy, but I haven't been dying of morning sickness.  Although I have thrown up twice, which hasn't happened before.  

In any case,  back to my uterus.  Baby A measures 6 weeks 4 days and has a heartbeat of 125.  Baby B measures 6 weeks 4 days and has a  heartbeat of 124.  Since I am 6 weeks 4 days, I take this to be a good sign.  Also, 124 is a perfect heartrate at this point.  (I would link to the research, but I cannot find it)

So, Yay!  It's a little overwhelming right now, and I have a ton of work to do today.  But we are pretty psyched that things look fantastic at this point.  And looking fantastic at this point is a very, very good place to be.  

Still Here, Shivering

Hello! Hello!

Things are going just dandy, which means my boobs are killing me, I'm often nauseous and I will likely fall dead asleep by 9:00 tonight.  I will also wake up several times throughout the night and have to pee.  In. The. Cold.  

We are still without our furnace here in the frosty Mother Thing household.  And it's getting down to 25 degrees tomorrow night.  The good news is that is now blatantly obvious that the insulation we had blown into the walls last winter really works.  We have two space heaters and are able to keep the house livable.  That's saying something considering the first winter we lived here, I could easily feel a breeze in the middle any given room.  It's still cool around the walls and windows, but for the most part, our house is comfortable.  Truly, without a furnace.  That is nice.

Nonetheless.  Friday we get a new dual fuel pack hybrid thingy installed.  And supposedly, the whole house will now be the same temperature.  And that temperature will not be frosty.  We are very excited.

As for the belly, we have our ultrasound next Monday.  Otherwise, my goal is to just keep growing this little one inside of me and helping him/her be healthy.

The Boobs

My boobs really, really hurt.  In all my gazillion pregnancies, my boobs have never been this sore.  And that includes when I was breastfeeding, which for those of you who have tandem nursed, you know hurts.

If I could walk around hunched back with nothing touching my chest, it might not be so bad.  

But as that would be an awkward way to teach class (and frightening to the students, indeend), I am just going to have to continually complain and complain about how bad this things hurt.  

I know it's a "good sign", but nonetheless, it hurts.

New Number In!

I swear, I wasn't trying to play coy.  One of the problems with being on the east coast with a west coast clinic is that they are fully unaware of one's freaked-out-ed-ness about how late it is getting for the results.

Today's number at 19 dpo (14dp5dt) was 2962.  It more than doubled twice from the last beta at 15 dpo.  I have to be honest with you:  I know that's a fine number, but I'm a little disappointed.  I'm not worried, but I'm not longer convinced that it's twins.  It may be that there were twins and now there isn't.  

The doubling rate was 43 hours, which is a little bit longer than the average of what they see on Betabase.info for either singletons or twins.  I know the doctors are happy to see any doubling rate less than 48 hours.  But that is sort of like saying that seeing a heartbeat (any heartbeat) reduces the miscarriage rate to 5%.  It doesn't.

And maybe it's with my miscarriage rate that it's just not likely I'm going to be thrilled with anything until I have a baby in my arms.  It's a fine number.  I would have liked something closer to 3200.  I can't have everything, eh?!