Monday, October 31, 2011
faithful provision
Yesterday, for the first time, we took our little munchkins to mass. Andrew was doing the second reading, and it just felt like time. I was terribly nervous, mostly due to the germs they could be exposed to. We snuck in, sat in the back, and tried to avoid letting anyone touch the babes. Thankfully, it went off without a hitch. Andrew held Barnes and I held Frances for most of the service, and we were able to worship God together as a family unit...the way it was intended to be.
Over the past year, I've had my share of ups and downs with both my faith and the Catholic church, which I call home. When we couldn't maintain a pregnancy and seemed to be facing loss after loss, it was hard for me to sing of God's goodness. I felt like we were being punished, and I was angry that God was letting us go through such pain. As it became clear that our children would be conceived through IVF (if at all), my views on my church started to get more complicated. The Catholic church teaches that IVF is wrong, yet it also teaches the importance of family. Andrew and I prayed over our situation, spoke with authorities both in the church and in the medical field, and made the decision that we felt was right. We found our own peace within the contradiction of a Catholic doing IVF, though it was far from easy at times.
As I sat in the back row yesterday cuddling our daughter and catching glimpses of Andrew holding our son, I was overwhelmed by how God truly does provide. It often doesn't look the way we thought it would, and unfortunately there is no way to opt out of the hard times, but God's faithfulness is real. It is embodied by my loyal, loving husband who always looks for the bright side; by my precious twins; by a church family and priest who are a little different but more accepting than any other Catholic community I can imagine. Yesterday, as I received the Eucharist with Frances in my arms, I was flooded with thankfulness for God's faithful provision.
I can't say that I remember which songs were sung or exactly what the homily was about, but I know that I will always remember our first mass as a family.
Over the past year, I've had my share of ups and downs with both my faith and the Catholic church, which I call home. When we couldn't maintain a pregnancy and seemed to be facing loss after loss, it was hard for me to sing of God's goodness. I felt like we were being punished, and I was angry that God was letting us go through such pain. As it became clear that our children would be conceived through IVF (if at all), my views on my church started to get more complicated. The Catholic church teaches that IVF is wrong, yet it also teaches the importance of family. Andrew and I prayed over our situation, spoke with authorities both in the church and in the medical field, and made the decision that we felt was right. We found our own peace within the contradiction of a Catholic doing IVF, though it was far from easy at times.
As I sat in the back row yesterday cuddling our daughter and catching glimpses of Andrew holding our son, I was overwhelmed by how God truly does provide. It often doesn't look the way we thought it would, and unfortunately there is no way to opt out of the hard times, but God's faithfulness is real. It is embodied by my loyal, loving husband who always looks for the bright side; by my precious twins; by a church family and priest who are a little different but more accepting than any other Catholic community I can imagine. Yesterday, as I received the Eucharist with Frances in my arms, I was flooded with thankfulness for God's faithful provision.
I can't say that I remember which songs were sung or exactly what the homily was about, but I know that I will always remember our first mass as a family.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
life by the numbers....
Our little miracles turned two months old on Monday, and life just continues to get more and more interesting. What are our lives like with two spunky two-month-olds? Here's a little peek into an average day:
- 40 bottles washed
- 12-14 bottles made
- 12-14 bottles fed
- 20 burping sessions
- 18-22 diapers changed
- 4-6 faces washed
- 3 pacifiers replaced (usually because Stella found one)
- 7 pumping sessions
- pump supplies washed 8 times
- 4 nighttime feedings
- 2-4 times when both babies are screaming at the same time
- 2-6 spit ups cleaned
- adult conversation- little to none
- a million kisses stolen
- more smiles and laughs than we ever thought possible (at least on most days....)
Sunday, October 23, 2011
sunday funday
We've had a fun, busy weekend, and we thought we'd share a few pictures with everyone to show what our little lives are filled with these days. Thanks for following our story!
Love-
Barnes & Frances
We had lots of playtime:
Sometimes we do the exact same thing at the exact same time and mom is reminded that we are twins.
We took pictures outside:
Dad took us on our first campus tour:
We went to another pumpkin patch...mom is really excited about Halloween:
Which one should we pick?
Check out my sticker!
We played in the laundry:
And now we're exhausted:
Love-
Barnes & Frances
We had lots of playtime:
Sometimes we do the exact same thing at the exact same time and mom is reminded that we are twins.We took pictures outside:
Dad took us on our first campus tour:
We went to another pumpkin patch...mom is really excited about Halloween:
Which one should we pick?
Check out my sticker!We played in the laundry:
And now we're exhausted:
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
the big thaw...
It happened yesterday. I knew it was coming, but I was saddened nonetheless. The babies officially outpaced me. The milk I pumped in 24 hours made 6 bottles each, and yesterday they took 7 each. This morning, I thawed some of our precious frozen milk to make the final bottle in this 24 hour period.
Despite my dread, I hastened this a bit. Until last weekend, the little ones were on a four hour feeding schedule. It was working so well, and it gave me time to get things accomplished between feedings. Recently, though, we noticed that they were starting to sometimes sleep more than four hours at a time. I am obsessed with them getting enough ounces/calories per day, so in anticipation of them sleeping longer stretches we are feeding them slightly more often (every 3-4 hours). This change upped our bottle consumption and pushed the little ones beyond my production. They are now eating around 48 ounces combined per day, and I'm producing around 42ish. Not quite enough.
It's incredible that they are eating so much and growing so well, but I wanted to sustain an exclusive breastmilk diet as long as possible. Now that we are starting to use our frozen supply, I'm not sure how much longer we will make it. I've been making very short-term pumping goals, and my most recent one was 2 months. Somehow that's only 6 days away! At least I know we can make it that far with nothing but mommy's milk!
Despite my dread, I hastened this a bit. Until last weekend, the little ones were on a four hour feeding schedule. It was working so well, and it gave me time to get things accomplished between feedings. Recently, though, we noticed that they were starting to sometimes sleep more than four hours at a time. I am obsessed with them getting enough ounces/calories per day, so in anticipation of them sleeping longer stretches we are feeding them slightly more often (every 3-4 hours). This change upped our bottle consumption and pushed the little ones beyond my production. They are now eating around 48 ounces combined per day, and I'm producing around 42ish. Not quite enough.
It's incredible that they are eating so much and growing so well, but I wanted to sustain an exclusive breastmilk diet as long as possible. Now that we are starting to use our frozen supply, I'm not sure how much longer we will make it. I've been making very short-term pumping goals, and my most recent one was 2 months. Somehow that's only 6 days away! At least I know we can make it that far with nothing but mommy's milk!
Saturday, October 15, 2011
night and day
One of my favorite hyms is called City of God, and it begins as follows:
Awake from your slumber! Arise from your sleep!
A new day is dawning for all those who weep.
The people in darkness have seen a great light.
The Lord of our longing has conquered the night.
Let us build the city of God.
May our tears be turned into dancing.
For the Lord our light and our love has turned the night into day.
Lately, I've been meditating quite a bit on the nights and days of life, our periods of darkness and light. Staying home with twins is exhausting--sometimes I literally want to collapse by the time Andrew gets home in the evening. But this is my day...not just any day, but the brightest, sunniest day imaginable. What a difference a year can make.
On this weekend last year, I was in the midst of a gravely dark night. I had travelled with Andrew to Death Valley, California for a cycling event to raise money for juvenile diabetes research, and I found myself in the desert miscarrying our second child. Soon thereafter we had our third miscarriage and had to make hard decisions regarding our path to parenthood.
Later, despite being overjoyed with our pregnancy, I was still not basking in the daylight. Life was more like a foggy dawn...I knew that our children were on the horizon, yet I also knew the risks of multiples and that too many stories do not have happy endings. Then came the NICU, and even though I could gaze at our little ones, the sun seemed to be slipping away. I was more afraid than I ever let myself admit, and I became acquainted with the indescribable fear a parent has for a sick child. But now here I am, with two beautiful, healthy children. Sometimes I cannot believe this is my life.
Today, I was reminded of just how real a different ending to this story could have been. I am part of an infertility community online, and though I don't know these women in real life, I love them. They have been my cheerleaders and my confidantes, and they stuck with me even when I achieved the pregnancy that many of them had not. On Thursday, one of these women lost her twins at 20 weeks. One died during birth, the other lived for around 15 minutes. I feel so connected to this woman...she did IVF, she was having a boy and a girl, she was elated at the thought of raising these children. And now they are gone. I cannot imagine the night that she is in now. What separates us? Why did I get the happy ending, while she is living through hell? Why can't she make it to her day? Please join me in sending her our thoughts and prayers, lifting her up as she struggles through this night.
Awake from your slumber! Arise from your sleep!
A new day is dawning for all those who weep.
The people in darkness have seen a great light.
The Lord of our longing has conquered the night.
Let us build the city of God.
May our tears be turned into dancing.
For the Lord our light and our love has turned the night into day.
Lately, I've been meditating quite a bit on the nights and days of life, our periods of darkness and light. Staying home with twins is exhausting--sometimes I literally want to collapse by the time Andrew gets home in the evening. But this is my day...not just any day, but the brightest, sunniest day imaginable. What a difference a year can make.
On this weekend last year, I was in the midst of a gravely dark night. I had travelled with Andrew to Death Valley, California for a cycling event to raise money for juvenile diabetes research, and I found myself in the desert miscarrying our second child. Soon thereafter we had our third miscarriage and had to make hard decisions regarding our path to parenthood.
Later, despite being overjoyed with our pregnancy, I was still not basking in the daylight. Life was more like a foggy dawn...I knew that our children were on the horizon, yet I also knew the risks of multiples and that too many stories do not have happy endings. Then came the NICU, and even though I could gaze at our little ones, the sun seemed to be slipping away. I was more afraid than I ever let myself admit, and I became acquainted with the indescribable fear a parent has for a sick child. But now here I am, with two beautiful, healthy children. Sometimes I cannot believe this is my life.
Today, I was reminded of just how real a different ending to this story could have been. I am part of an infertility community online, and though I don't know these women in real life, I love them. They have been my cheerleaders and my confidantes, and they stuck with me even when I achieved the pregnancy that many of them had not. On Thursday, one of these women lost her twins at 20 weeks. One died during birth, the other lived for around 15 minutes. I feel so connected to this woman...she did IVF, she was having a boy and a girl, she was elated at the thought of raising these children. And now they are gone. I cannot imagine the night that she is in now. What separates us? Why did I get the happy ending, while she is living through hell? Why can't she make it to her day? Please join me in sending her our thoughts and prayers, lifting her up as she struggles through this night.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
happy fall!
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