






(Two tiny humans - 5 days past conception. Amazing, isn't it?)
Then came the two-week wait. It sucked, as it always does. My pregnancy test fell on the Sunday of Willa's birthday. I am not being dramatic when I tell you that I was severely ill with cedar fever or the worst sinus infection of my life, and hadn't been able to sleep in 48 hours (because the pillow hurt my face.) And Sean, Willa, and I headed all the way to Austin at 6am to have my blood drawn because it was the closest lab that was open on a Sunday and could give us same-day results. That afternoon, my nurse called, and I could instantly detect the extra pep in her voice. My pregnancy test was positive and I was 4 weeks along. Not only that, but my HCG level was high enough (178) that I didn't have to go back for a 48 hour retest. I had more of the pregnancy hormone than I did with Willa at 4 weeks and that had turned out great. (Obviously.) Over the next week, my sinus misery was gradually replaced with all-day-morning-sickness, heartburn, metallic-mouth, and exhaustion. I definitely felt pregnant (physically, at least) and I welcomed the symptoms as reassurance. I had another test the following week, and while I was at the lab, I used the restroom and was slapped in the face with an emotional setback when I noticed that I was spotting. The IVF nurse tried her best to convince me not to worry until my levels came back from the lab. Apparently, it's common in early pregnancy to have a little bleeding or spotting. I wouldn't get my test results until the next day and no words or statistics were going to make me feel better in the meantime. Thankfully, by the following day, the bleeding had tapered off, and I got the results of my second test. It revealed extreme levels of HCG (8776) and in 24 hours my head went from certain miscarriage, to twin wonder. Ah, the roller coaster.
A third blood test and two weeks later, my ultrasound appointment finally arrived. Sean couldn't understand why I was so nervous. At this point, I think you just become conditioned to bad news. And I didn't know if we would see any hearts beating, let alone two. The doctor came in, congratulated us, and made reference to the fact that here we were...pregnant, and having finally taken the double-embryo plunge, we were faced with a very real possibility of twins. She realized how we had been so careful to avoid that possibility in our previous cycles. Again with the irony.
I have never really been able to see what's what on those ultrasound monitors. But this was clear as day. Two sacks, two beating hearts. TWINS.

Sean and I are pretty overwhelmed with everything right now. A twin pregnancy is high-risk and I can honestly say that all those worries I experienced when I was pregnant with Willa are back, and have been multiplied by 2. I have to admit, I am both fascinated and fearful of the impending growth of my midsection. I will definitely be documenting that so prepare yourselves. And there are also so many decisions to be made, new things to learn, and logistics to figure out - from new doctor, to new car, to kid/crib placement in our less-than-sprawling 2/2, possible cesarean, tandem nursing, power-pumping, double strolling, and whew, I better stop right there.
Now, in case you couldn't tell, Sean and I are truly thrilled. We always wanted a big family. And in just about 7 more months, our brood of one will have grown by 200%.
I'm going to take it easy and limit my first trimester goals to deciding on an obstetrician, resting and taking my prenatal vitamin daily, and eating enough, despite my queasy stomach. Definitely easier said than done. So wish me luck!

Despite the scowl, Willa was in a great mood last Saturday when she came up to the St. Nikolaus Markt to visit me at the booth and meet St. Nick. She was having the time of her life, running free through the crowds of people, talking up a storm, laughing like I have never seen her do before. But the moment they met, her demeanor turned flat. I wasn't totally surprised by her fear. My mom has a photo of Chris and me with Santa that was taken when I was about Willa's age, and I'm beet red and screaming for my life. But I didn't really expect this particular reaction from her. She didn't resist it. She paid the man behind the camera and walked cautiously toward the brown-bearded stranger. And when I placed her in his lap, she sat perfectly still, eyes fixed somewhere in the space between the photographer and me, and waited for the torture to end. When it did, she bounced right back to her lively old self. I am amazed that this tiny a person can possess such fortitude! Such composure! So much for a good first impression. Oh well, like Sean says, coal is underrated.And as I mentioned above, I have been puttering along through this baby-quest and Sean and I just embarked on our third IVF/FET. We transferred a single embryo during Round 2, just as we had carefully planned. But that was a decision I began to regret from the moment the embryologist delivered our thaw report. It had survived, but wasn't expanding very well. We were told that this wasn't necessarily bad news, but it wasn't good either. And there wasn't anything we could do but put it in and hope for the best. Of course it didn't work. So now we're in the middle of Round 3, and our hope for a pregnancy via FET is dwindling right along with our remaining embryos. On the upside, we do still have 3 embryos left. And though we've spent a fortune for them, I am actually enjoying my two (going on three) pairs of fuzzy, non-slip, hospital-issued slippers.
These days when I look at Willa, I am completely amazed that she is here and that just 3 years ago, we were in this same place. But I have to say that as much as I wanted a baby back then, to be a mom, as much as I hurt for it, I didn't truly know what I was missing. That makes it different this time. Having a child doesn't necessarily make it easier to deal with infertility. In some aspects, it may in fact, make it harder. I am finding myself excessively attached to Willa again - the way I was when she was first born - afraid that if I blinked, I might wake up from the dream and she'd be gone. That's one of those scars of infertility I occasionally speak of. And it is a big-time annoyance. So, friends and family: I'm sorry if I seem overprotective or possessive. I can't help it. Imagine how awful I'll be as Willa gets older...Think Cheerleader Murdering Mom??? I must have another child...for Willa's sake!
Kids grow too fast. But I am finding it to be true that every stage is the best stage. Right now, Willa is the cutest, sweetest, funniest! She is so physically and mentally active - bouncing, running, twirling, dancing, pretending, and narrating for us every move that she makes. She talks constantly. She likes to sing her ABC's and Rock-A-Bye-Baby, but she'll try to sing along with anything. She's learned how to swaddle from Miss Stacy and carefully wraps Suzy up in her lovie and sings her to sleep, then tells everyone to "Shhh." The word, "NO" is a new favorite. And all I have to do is give her the look, and she'll say, "I'm sorry." She is so polite with her please's, thank you's, excuse me's and you're welcome's. I sure hope that sticks. I think I almost had her potty trained. But then I got lazy. And it all went down the toilet. I failed again. :-)
Stay tuned, y'all. I'll be posting more photos and stories soon! I mean it this time.