Back to Life, Back to Reality…

Now that our Babymoon is officially over, things are back to normal.  Things have been pretty hectic in our lives this past month or so.  We barely even had time to talk (most of our conversations being through text) before our Babymoon last week (thank the heavens!), and now we are back to that crazy, busy schedule.  I FINALLY got the house in order, clean and totally spotless! Our floors are officially the shiniest, cleanest floors I have ever seen (my cat sliding across the whole 25×12 living room floor proves it!).  This excites me for the following reasons:
1) My OCD was going freaking nuts in a house where I couldn’t find anything and had no idea where to put the things I COULD find so that they wouldn’t get lost again.
2) I can wear my socks in the house (seeing me barefoot is the equivalent of having seen Bigfoot or the Nessie-lots of years playing soccer so it’s not cute at all) without having to throw them out from the filth that has accumulated on them by the end of the day
3) I can access my underwear without having to climb over mountains of junk
4) I can spend time with Callie and the kids because I’m not rushing home to get things done
5) I CAN OFFICIALLY START THE NURSERY!! ( This is the most exciting part, can you tell?!?!)

The second that we got back from our trip, we were again swamped with tons of stuff to do.  We got home at about 5pm on Wednesday, had to pick up the girls, get them fed and bathed, and then I went to work from 9pm-5am! Lets not forget the fact that now, I have to go around with my breast pump too! Good thing I was well rested to start up the craziness again. Thursday involved lots of cleaning, organizing, getting rid of stuff and tending to children (which were both home with us ALL DAY because of Rosh Hashanah).  There was lots of Nick & Disney Jr. (SUE ME!) so that we could get some stuff done. Friday, we got to go to the pediatrician to pick up all of Laney’s legal documents and updated immunization records for us to get her signed up for the WIC program.  Ladies and Gentlemen, this. Is. A. Lifesaver! We get close to $200 a month for her formula, cereal, and baby food! It’s awesome! We didn’t know that we were entitled to this as foster parents, but apparently (and luckily) we are.  It helps to alleviate the $60 a week we were spending on formula and baby food. ***(What you are about to read is a statement reserved SOLELY for this situation) Good thing Callie’s random keeps worked out, because she hung on to all of those receipts and now we get reimbursed for the food we already bought for her in the past month! That’s pretty sweet!

Saturday we attended the wedding of our 2 dear friends Lesley and Magdalena.  To say that it was probably the most beautiful wedding I have been to would be an understatement.  They had a small, very intimate ceremony with their closest family and friends.  I would say about 40 people in Lesley’s sisters backyard.  It was such a beautiful day.  It was 83 degrees in New Jersey, and I kid you not, not a cloud could be seen in the sky.  They exchanged vows (which were hilarious and heartfelt and showed how in sync they are as a couple: they wrote them separately but said almost the same thing!), had their favorite acoustic musicians play short set, and had beautiful sunflowers everywhere, and most importantly, you could feel every ounce of love, admiration, appreciation, and support for the couple.  I can’t help but feel like I was really sensitive to all of the positive emotions and love in the room, because the whole day I felt this huge surge of emotions that left me crying for most of the day (trust me, I was a blubbering mess through the ceremony and I hardly EVER cry in front of people!) .  I can go on and on about how wonderful Saturday was. We met this other lesbian couple who is 3 months pregnant with their first child.  Lesley barely let us get in the door before introducing us! Needless to say, we spent the rest of the day together and have plans to hang out for game night the last Friday of October.  It’s nice to have another expecting lesbian couple near by, and I’m pretty sure we’ll be friends with those 2 ladies for a while.  They are totally our kind of cool.





Sunday was my little sister Natasha’s Baby Shower.  It turned out incredible!  Most of our family was there, and I got to see some of my cousins that I haven’t seen in a while.  When we were younger, even all the way up through high school, we were all very close.  As we got older and obligations pulled us in tons of different directions, we drifted apart, so on the few rare occasions that we all get together, it’s usually a tragic hot mess! How many times have you seen late 20 to 30 year old’s playing Musical Chairs?! Trust me, it’s hilarious! My mom, my aunt, and my sisters boyfriend did a beautiful job of putting the whole thing together.  There was tons of food, a DJ, brownie pops, cupcake tower, and lots of gifts.  She was totally surprised.  They had gotten her there by telling her that there was an Armoire that her boyfriends sister thought was perfect for the nursery.  She walked in and right away started crying! It was GREAT! I’m glad she enjoyed herself, got to dance, and share such a special moment with the people that she loves and that love her right back! I can’t WAIT for my niece to get here!



And lastly, tomorrow is our 20 week scan (technically 22 weeks, but who’s counting!?!).  I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve seen our babies, and I really can’t wait! Hopefully, we’ll get a ton of pictures to walk away with.  I’m glad that this scan takes a while, and we really get to have a look at the babies and their development.  Hopefully nothing will show up questionable, and our little Sweet Pea and Pumpkin will be safe and sound, and happy!  I can’t wait to see their little faces.  And hands.  And feet.  And ears. And hearts! I’m one excited mama! Callie is a little concerned that she may have to go on bedrest.  She’s been having tons of what we just found out from my sister are possible Braxton Hicks contractions.  She doesn’t want to take leave to early, because she’s concerned that she won’t get much time with the boys once they are home.  I insist that we cross that bridge if and when we get there, but she’s preparing for hearing that she’ll end up home on bedrest soon.  So tomorrow makes 22 weeks and hopefully a beautiful scan of our LJ and Noah.






Provincetown at the tip of “The Cape” in Massachusetts is one of our favorite places in the world.  We love that quaint little seaside town feel.  The smell of the salty air, the beautiful sunsets, the shell and sand alleyways.  It’s all so intoxicating.  We decided that celebrating our 4 year anniversary and a well deserved Babymoon there, would be perfect!  We packed up our things, Mary’s things, and Laney’s things early Saturday morning, left our half unpacked apartment just as it was, and dropped the ladies off at their respective babysitters (other foster parents we know) for the week.  We hit the road at about 1pm and got ourselves ready for a 5+ hour drive with a ton of snacks for Callie, plenty of water, and of course, our usual road trip soundtrack, “Jagged Little Pill”.  We know every word to every song, and crack each other up with our best impressions of Alanis Morissette’s little screechy yodel.

We got there around 6:30pm, dropped our bags off at our cottage so we could change our clothes (it was chillier than we thought it would be), and went out to grab a quick bite to eat.  We made it an early night so we could go back and “sleep”.  We really needed to “sleep”.



Day 2 consisted of a pretty late start.  We hardly ever get to sleep in anymore (8 am is a sleep-in for us) so at 11:30am, we woke, got ready, and head out for a nice walk through the town.  We had breakfast at our favorites breakfast spot, visited loads of shops, grabbed a cool shark tooth mood necklace for Mary which we knew she would love (and she did! She won’t even take it off to shower so that she “doesn’t lose it”), had delicious homemade sherbert, and enjoyed each others company electronic free.  It was nice to have conversations about random things with Callie again.  Parenthood leads to lots of conversation about the kids, their development, what they did that day, what made you crazy, and what made you smile.  We hardly talk about adult things anymore, so I really treasured the hours worth of conversations that we had about all types of different, random things. Our second day ended with a steak dinners and a bottle of O’douls. towerDay 3 was a great day! We woke up really late (almost at 12pm) got ready and made our way into town.  Our 4 year anniversary.  It was a day to reflect on our love, on who we are as individuals, and on who we have grown into as a couple.  Every time I looked at her, I was overpowered with so many emotions.  I held her hand tighter that day, kissed her a little harder.  Images flashed in my head of the first time we held hands, kissed, made love, talked about marriage and starting a family.  Nothing in my life has ever felt as right as being next to Callie, and now our love has risen to the next level where we get to share it with our beautiful boys.  To celebrate, that day we decided to do a tour of the Pirate Museum.  It was actually pretty cool! That’s one of the things I love most about Callie.  She’s an undercover nerd like I am, and loves learning weird, random and totally useless facts about pretty much anything.  In this case, it was about the pirate ship “Whydah“.  It. Was. So. Freaking. Cool!  It’s the only real live pirate treasure ever found! We got to touch real “pieces of eight” (silver coins) that date back almost 300 years! We could have touched coins that were handled by Captain Sam Bellamy himself.  It was pretty awesome! All of the artifacts were found on the ocean floor, after searching for over 5 years for the fabled ship, all under almost 15 feet of sand.  It was all pretty neat!

Afterwards, we decided to take a walk on the beach.  It was a beautiful evening, with a slight chill in the air that was perfect for holding hands and walking pressed next to each other.  We laughed, drew in the sand, took some fantastic pictures, watched a seal show up and disappear, and placed our hands on Callie’s belly as the boys squired and wiggled and enjoyed the beach and fresh air right along with us. shadows sunset two sueybeach sil ptown coupleonsand chriscloseup That night we went out for delicious lobster and some karaoke, where I gave a shout out to my lovely lady and my boys and sang, “Just The Way You Are” by Bruno Mars that left most of the people in their seats all misty eyed, including my Callie. My boys were apparently moving around all over the place when they heard their Mama sing!



Day 4 started later than any other day on the trip.  We didn’t even get out of our rental until 1pm, which made it increasingly hard to find a spot for breakfast.  We did find one ( but they only served the very specific menu items with no substitutions), and while we ate, we say this guy…windowdogwhich was pretty funny! He was watching all of the people walk up and down the street and looked like a human if you watched him long enough.  That day, we took a trolley tour around the town from the restaurant laden West End and back around to the Art District on the East End.  We learned some cool things, like each house (if built before the 1900’s) has a little blue plaque in the corner that tells what year it was made in and who owned it.  We also learned that cranberries were indigenous to that area. They used to be called “Crane Berries” because the leaves looked like cranes! I KNOW RIGHT!?!?! Also learned that the Pilgrims settled in Provincetown first, but after about 2 months, and land that was un-tillable and no fresh water, they shot straight over to Plymouth.  Lots of cool stuff! We had some more lobster for dinner (You can’t beat a 1 1/2lb lobster for $15!), ended the night with some more (drag queen) karaoke which was pretty hilarious, and then went back to our cottage.  Before we went inside, we noticed that the sky was so clear that you could see what seemed like every star in our galaxy.  We stood there staring at the sky and said, “If everything is gonna be okay with the boys, you’ll let us see a shooting star.” Wouldn’t ya know, that right as I finished the sentence, a star streaked, big and bright, right across the sky! Callie and I both gasped and laughed. The universe has had so many ways of letting us know that the boys, our girls, and that we, as a family, are going to be okay.

Our Babymoon ended Wednesday morning, and it was awfully sad.  We weren’t ready to head back to our real lives.  We wish we could have just stayed out on the Cape, just the two of us, for at least a couple more days.  On the drive back, we held hands the whole way, asked each other what the 3 best things about the trip were, and looked forward to seeing our little ladies.  We promised to always make one on one time for each other, and that no matter how crazy and busy our lives get, we will always communicate what we need and do our best to give the other what they ask for.  I’m lucky to have a woman like Callie and I promised to never forget that. I don’t think I ever could, even if I tried…

pots sharlssharkbaby lobsterbite

Buried Alive…Sorta…

Disclaimer: This is totally a rant! Bear with me…

I have never been the type of person to hold on to things.  In fact, I have always been the complete opposite.  If I haven’t used something in a few months, it more often than not has made it’s way to some landfill out in Staten Island or Brooklyn or into someone’s home via one of those donation boxes at our local gas station.  I will admit to keeping 4 separate shoe boxes full of things from the 4 significant relationships that I have been in, and 1 other shoebox that has some of the first pictures I took, letters from friends in high school (you know, original text messages that you passed or threw across the classroom as the teacher wrote something on the chalkboard), and programs from graduations and school musicals I’ve been in.  I can’t let go of these boxes (even though I know I probably should) for reasons that I can’t understand, but that’s besides the point.

I grew up in a house where my mother had very obvious, and very intense undiagnosed OCD.  It’s possible that my OCD is a learned behavior. I can acknowledge that.  Our house was so clean and organized that you would never think that 5 kids and 2 adults lived there.  We had glass tables (never a fingerprint), white walls (not a scuff mark was ever to be seen) and light gray couches (they were and STILL are immaculate even after a grandchild too).  There were never dishes in the sink, never a hair on our bathroom floor, and everyone did their share.  If something was out, that meant someone was using it, otherwise, it also made its way to said landfill.  My mother did NOT play that!  I like things organized and in their place.  I don’t see the need to have a ton of unnecessary things to clutter my space.

Living with someone that has the COMPLETE opposite idea of this is very difficult, but it’s even more trying when one is moving.  Callie is what I often call a Baby Hoarder.  She has the potential to fill a home to the brim with “garbage”.  A collector of things, a “One mans trash/another mans treasure” kinda person.  “We are gonna need this someday” kinda lady, and that makes me absolutely out of my mind!  This past week has been taxing both physically and emotionally for us.  With respite care for a friends 7 month old foster son, the Gender Reveal Party (haven’t forgotten to post about that, just haven’t gotten my computer set up yet), planning/packing for our Anniversary/Babymoon vacation this coming Saturday, a 9 month old with a stomach bug throwing up all over the place, a 6 year old with a buttload of homework, and no time or ability to just sit and relax and have an un-rushed kiss, this move has not been easy.  It took us a total of 5 days to move out of the old apartment.  We are completely and finally out after 5 long, drawn out, exhausting days. The lack of sleep, love, food and belly rubs for my twins (several times I even FORGOT that she was pregnant-seriously!) has made me less tolerant of Callie’s “collecting“.

I did the unthinkable (in her eyes, not mine)!  As I was organizing and putting things away, I threw out a ton of stuff.  Most of it was hers, like the 29 lotions that she’s had since before we were even together (the same lotions have traveled to 3 different apartments in 4 years and have never been used…ever! I mean, who in the hell has Celine Dion lotion anyways? I’m not even gonna wait for an answer to that one), the 7 curling irons, the dozens and dozens of freebies from hotels/motels that she has traveled to, the 14 containers of floss, and that’s just a quarter of the stuff that was in our 2x2x2ish bathroom cabinet!  I don’t even want to get into the medicine cabinet, which my best friend Nikki had dubbed “The Booby Trap” because there is so much stuff in there that you can’t open it without a minimum of 10 things falling out.  In our old apartment, there was stuff in every corner in one box or another. I mean, it was organized but it was starting to become to much. So I have been patient, kind, and gentle in my approach every year for the past 4 years.  I have asked nicely and I have done my best to be compassionate and considerate, but I’ve had it! We have 2 kids at home and 2 on the way.  We have enough shit for 20 people to last 20 years, and I don’t know how else to emphasize the importance and the need for space.  So I took it upon myself to start to “make room”.  Call it Non-Belly Mama Nesting or whatever! Believe me when I tell you, it was not received well.  I get it! I was an asshole and inconsiderate, and violated trust because “it wasn’t my stuff to get rid of” but it took me 4 YEARS to get there, and I’m over it!   Currently, she isn’t speaking to me.  I insist she’ll get over it, she reiterates that she will not. She can’t even name the things I threw out!  If someone had thrown out my things I would be able to name every item, where it came from , how long I’ve had it, how I acquired it, and a ton of other facts about it.  It’s a violation of trust (I suppose), but is my need to keep things organized and clutter free any less valid? Are we not in this together and supposed to come to some type of compromise?  I don’t have a problem keeping lotion, like 2 or 3 or 5, but not 29! This is going to be a crazy uphill battle of getting rid of things in an apartment that has 2 less closets (that were used for storage by the way, and that’s not even including the 6×10 storage unit that we ALREADY have [where I have 1 box and 2 camping bins and a tent]) and a nursery that needs to be started in a month and has boxes covering even the windows! I hope we can come to an agreement about getting rid of some things or I can foresee me sleeping on the couch for a couple of nights!

On a bright note, the following rooms are completely set up and clutter free:
-Both bathrooms
-The master bedroom
-Mary’s bedroom
-The Living Room
-The game closet

Still left to do:
-The Kitchen (sorting through 5 different plate/mug sets–who needs 17 plates for 3 people? Sheesh! OK, I’m doing it again!)
-The Nursery (and it’s millions and billions of boxes!)

This vacation is soooooo needed!

An Emotional Hot Trainwreck of a Mess…

And that’s just how I have been feeling!!!  I don’t know what is going on, but it feels like I am getting all of Callie’s pregnancy symptoms.  She feels great AMAZING, and I, on the other hand spend most of my days wishing we were together (we work opposite shifts and my days off are Friday and Saturday, so we get one day for “family day” per week), crying as I listen to music and catch up on my TV shows (Thanks A LOT “The Fosters”!), craving chocolate like it’s no ones business, and dealing with the soreness/tenderness of my breasts as I continue on my journey to try and establish a significant milk supply/flow to help sustain my twinfants. I’m basically feeling everything that Callie is feeling (with the exception of the actual babies, which she technically isn’t feeling yet, although this morning she sent me a text that she THINKS she might have felt one of them but it might just be that she was really hungry) even though I’m not pregnant.

As I was driving to work at 5am, I was listening to a CD that Marco made for our drive up to this past weekends hike. Ed Sheeran (with his amazing soothing voice and fantastically ginger hair) started playing a song that I had heard before but never really paid much attention to.  To make a long story short, it has to do with miscarriage and is incredibly touching and heartbreaking (Ed Sheeran – Small Bump).  When I tell you that I needed windshield wipers INSIDE my car, that is no exaggeration.  The waterworks were in full effect.  My first thought was , WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?!?! I started to analyze why I have been feeling the way that I have, not just recently with the whole pregnancy, but for the better part of the past 2 years while simultaneously scrolling through FB.  I was reading a friends post about vulnerability and allowing yourself to be vulnerable, and then it hit me!

For the better part of my life, I was very guarded, as I’m sure many of us are.  I grew up in a family where everything was great, and don’t you dare say otherwise.  “Don’t you dare cry, or I’ll give you something to cry about” kind of home.  Don’t get me wrong, I had the best time growing up.  In retrospect I had the best childhood that anyone could have asked for.  I lived with my loving, accepting, tolerant and encouraging parents who drove us to all of our soccer, field hockey, basketball, softball games and swimming, karate, and attended every concert or musical that we were in.  I have 4 incredible siblings that I would die for.  We are all very close in age (I’m 31, sis-almost 29, bro-27, sis-26, bro-25 as of yesterday) and spent lots of time in cramped spaces, like 8 hour road trips to Niagara Falls.  I wasn’t allowed to go ANYWHERE unless all the ducklings were right behind me.  To this day, family dinners on Sunday at my parents are a non-negotiable, and I love that about my family.  We all live within 10-15 minutes of each other with the exception of my youngest brother who lives in Brooklyn, but him and his boyfriend visit all the time and probably spend the most time at my parents of all 5 of us (Yup! My handsome and hilarious younger brother is gay too and has been with his partner for almost 3 years).  If I’m to speak candidly, (and why wouldn’t I?) sadness was just one of those emotions that got pushed away.  “What are you sad about? Look at how great your life is!” Although this was probably said to teach us to appreciate everything we have and think, “Hey! It could be worse!”, for someone as emotional and sensitive as me, it was pretty difficult to deal with.

I learned very early on to bottle up my emotions.  To cry only in the shower where no one could see me.  To wait until my sisters had fallen asleep so that then, and only then, I could grab my pillow and scream into it until I couldn’t scream anymore.  To take out my aggression and express my anger on the playing field.  To become these characters in the school plays and musicals and in some ways live vicariously through them, even if it was fictional and temporary.  All I really wanted was for my mom to kiss me and my dad to hug me when I was sad or mad (they did plenty of it all the other times, believe me – my family is incredibly affectionate), but they rarely did, and even then it was awkward and uncomfortable.  So being sad or angry was just not something we did well with.

Being or allowing myself to be vulnerable was out of the question. It would mean that I could be hurt, and the hurt would lead to sorrow, and sorrow would lead me into this abyss of darkness, despair, and depression.  For a long time, I lived my life devoid of anything that would lead to the risk or possibility of getting hurt.  For the better part of 16-26, I was just a mess.  Drinking, drugging, cutting class, obsessed with my relationships and my inability to let them go, and not allowing anything to effect me emotionally.  A lot of people even went there, and called me ” A cold-hearted bitch”.  It’s fine because I totally owned it.  I might have even been proud of it! I didn’t give a crap about anything. You’re mom died? Sorry! People die everyday.  You’re dog died? He’s a freaking dog! You lost your job? What the hell am I supposed to do about that? (I didn’t really feel like this, I swear it, but I wasn’t sure how I was really supposed to feel or express any of it) I was so numb that on 3 separate occasions I tried to take my own life (19, 21, 26).  At 26, I decided I didn’t want to feel that way anymore. Another failed 4 year relationship and I was done.  I committed myself to an inpatient hospital where I spent 2 months of my life doing Intense therapy, DBT, and acknowledging that my way of coping was not effective at all.  After that, I moved back in with my parents (who after the birth of my niece have become emotional wrecks themselves and have NO ISSUES WHATSOEVER showing us tears of joy, relief, sadness, anger and every other emotion you can possibly think of).  My mom visited me in the hospital every day, brought me dinner every night, asked how I was feeling, and listened.  Really listened.  They actually said, I HAD to move back home and that they weren’t taking no for an answer. I have no way to repay them for what they have done for me.  They helped me enroll in a full day outpatient DBT program which my dad drove me to M-F and picked me and asked me what I learned about myself every night at dinner. That gesture in itself was therapeutic.

One of the most important things I learned was to embrace being vulnerable. “Open myself up to these things? What the hell for?!?” But the more I practiced, the more I realized that for every possible little bit of sadness that I let in, I was also letting in possible joy.  Even when there was sadness, I had all these amazing feelings of happiness to override that.  That feeling sad wasn’t that bad! You feel it, recognize it, and move on.  I could actually feel things and come out the other side a better person.  Like, really feel them, and feel them with people and for people, and have an appropriate response.  What I realized the most about allowing myself to be vulnerable was that it actually felt like I was living.  I wasn’t simply going through the motions.  I was truly knee deep in life.  All these things were coming at me from every direction (my aunt who is my second mother getting diagnosed with beast cancer, a huge fall out between a ton of my family members, trying to start a new relationship after nearly 2 years of selfishly working on myself, losing a great paying unionized job as a carpenter in NYC because of my time in psychiatric care, moving from the NYC where I had been for nearly 10 years back home to the suburbs which I had outgrown) and I dealt with them.  And I wasn’t the worse for wear. Who woulda thought! I was alive and feeling, and that was okay with me.  Better than okay!  It was amazing!  So now, after having analyzed this, I see that my pseudo-pregnancy symptoms are just me living and feeling and accepting.  Of course I feel sad when I hear the terrible news about someone losing their precious baby, or when pets leave us, or even when something as simple as a rain storm ruins our one family fun day that we had been looking forward to.  How could I not!?! So even though they are sad tears, they are still happy tears for me.  My kids will always know hugs and kisses and validation of their feelings.  They will see their Mamá cry, breakdown, pick up the pieces, pray, laugh, dance, and love.  A Mamá with a big ole’ vulnerable heart.  Mi corazón estará abierto para ustedes…<3

My amazing family...

My amazing family…

photo8 photo22

2 YOU SAY?!?!?!

 Woke up last Friday morning, got our 6-year-old ready for school, dropped her off, and we head out for our appointment at our fertility specialist.  Our first sonogram! How exciting!  We were geeked and couldn’t wait to see our baby.  I mean, let’s be real! We knew it would only be a tiny little black speck in her uterus, but it was OUR tiny little black speck that we have been waiting to create for months!
We get to the Dr. and make small talk in the waiting area. We are so excited we can hardly contain ourselves, but we’re trying our best to be sympathetic to the other couples in the waiting area that may not be as lucky as we are. We’ve been in that position, and our positive attitudes, pregnant with anticipation (no pun intended) are probably the last thing these women need. We speak in hushed voices trying not to let go of our little secret yet.
Our names are called. I spring to my feet, thanks to the 3 cups of coffee I’ve had in the past hour, and do my proud “I’m gonna be a Mama” strut, protecting my lady and my unborn child from whatever dangers could present themselves in the 10 foot walk from chair to exam room. I hold the door and in we go. We are about to see our little Poppy Seed.
The nurse turns out the light and my eyes focus instantly on that black and white screen that only trained professional eyes can understand. I have no idea what I’m looking at, but as soon as the Dr. says, “There’s your baby!” I damn near lost it! My heart started racing, my palms started sweating, and I felt this surge of indescribable love for my Callie, laying there completely exposed, having been through so much just so we can have this incredible moment. I kiss her. I kiss her and I hold her hand and I admire her. I turn my eyes away from the screen for a second so we can lock eyes and then I hear him say it. I hear him say, “And there is the other one!”
THE OTHER ONE!?!?! OMG! The other one! There are 2!?!? There are totally 2! Suddenly, my ears started ringing, my head felt like all the blood in my body rushed to it, and then in a flash…Euphoria. 2 babies. 2 gloriously chubby babies with 20 fingers for hand holding, 20 toes for tickling, 4 cheeks to kiss, 2 bellies for loud raspberries, 4 knees to kiss boo-boos, 4 eyes to show the wonders of this amazing world to. Oh man! It’s 2! Our TWO Poppy Seeds growing in Mommy’s belly. This adventure is going to be even more awesome than we anticipated. 2 little babies…

And So It Begins…

I never thought that I would be blogging, but so it begins! Life for me has begun to take some really interesting turns. Let me fill you in very quickly on who I am and what has been going on in my life so far. I’m 30 years old (15 days shy of 31), and I am engaged to a beautiful, loving, kind, generous, hilarious, and stong woman (for all intents and purposes, we’ll call her Callie). We started dating the summer of 2010, and since then, we’ve been inseparable. Our families love each other, and they love us, separate and together, and that was all we needed before we decided to take our relationship to the next level. We decided to……………wait for it …………………. Start a family!!!! We decided that since Callie is older, she would carry first, but this was all hypothetical, until january 2013. That began our crazy 16 month journey. Our emotional rollercoaster, 2 week cycle living, anonymous donor searching, Dr. visit infested, I cant believe this is happening, is IVF our last option, OMG THIS IS FINALLY HAPPENING 16 month journey!

After 7 failed IUI’s with our reproductive endocrinologist, 2 months off for a second opinion, a crapload of tests which were all inconclusive, 5 failed artificial inseminations at home (mind you all out of pocket), I had a battle trying to communicate with my insurance company to get my domestic partner insured so she can qualify for IVF treatments. My new job has a 6 month qualification period before you can get your partner insured, so we played the waiting game and finally got approved. For $50,000 worth of infertility treatments!!!!!! That even includes egg freezing, travel expenses, and any and all medications! Pretty sweet deal, and well worth the wait! Well, sorta. So after 2 more months of birth control pills, hormone injections, visits to the fertility doctor every other day for blood work and hormone levels, a painful egg retrieval for my honey, and LOADS of anxiety for me, I’m happy to say, WE ARE PREGNANT!!!!! And on our first try of IVF (with 5 frozen embryos left for my future babies)!

So now, the REAL journey begins. The never ending appointments, the nerves, the being strong for Callie, heartbeats & sonograms, prepping for baby or babies, who knows (HcG levels are really high and they DID implant 2 embryos) and lets not forget that we are pretty awesome foster parents to a 6 year old, kick ass little girl. Life surely has taken some really interesting turns, but we are buckled in and ready to go. Hello motherhood. We’re ready for you…

~Non-Belly Mamá