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01-Feb-2021 01:54

Having gotten pregnant easily twice, we were optimistic about our chances for a third try. My husband, ever the optimist, was sure that if we just kept having lots of sex we’d be successful. I realized I was no longer in the driver’s seat – these babies were coming into my life in the next half-hour, and for the first time I seemed to understand what that was really going to mean.

Ten months later, after three failed intrauterine inseminations, one failed injectable cycle, and one failed IVF, we were on our last try, using the three frozen embryos we had leftover from our IVF cycle. We had reached the end of our financial rope, as well as my husband’s willingness to go through any more shots and tests. Before I could ask the doctor if we could reschedule the operation, the epidural was in and I was being laid down on the table.

The next thing I knew, my husband was holding our son, the doctors were helping my daughter breathe, and I was throwing up on myself. My son stayed in the NICU for an additional week while my husband and I went back and forth between our baby at home and our baby in the hospital.

By the time we picked up our son, I was already exhausted from caring for our extremely fussy daughter and trying but failing at breastfeeding. Originally, my husband planned to take almost a month of paternity leave. That first week both babies were home was spent adjusting the schedule we had started to fall into with our daughter, because now everything took twice as long.

Keeping in mind that I still have another fourteen hours to go before putting the twins to bed and praying for a full two hours of sleep, a trip to the grocery store seems like the spur-of-the-moment, high-risk adrenaline rush that I need today.

I lug my two car seats, my steel and black-plastic stroller and my Skip Hop Duo diaper bag (stuffed with bottles, wipes, diapers, burp cloths, two changes of clothes for each child and extra blankets) into the local Safeway.

I ran to Target and bought my husband a bib with the words “I Love Daddy.” I called my mom.

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Before having the babies, I thought the children would be an addition to my life; I didn’t realize that my children would my life.

I glance down at my double Snap-N-Go stroller to make sure my usually red-faced, screaming ten-week-old baby is still asleep. And luckily, for the moment, so is he — my second baby.

It’s taken me a little more than two months to leave the house with my infant twins.

In fact, for three weeks I had been carrying a dead baby.

I went back home, sat on the floor of our newly painted baby room and wailed. Having twins was the biggest mistake I had ever made.

Before having the babies, I thought the children would be an addition to my life; I didn’t realize that my children would my life.

I glance down at my double Snap-N-Go stroller to make sure my usually red-faced, screaming ten-week-old baby is still asleep. And luckily, for the moment, so is he — my second baby.

It’s taken me a little more than two months to leave the house with my infant twins.

In fact, for three weeks I had been carrying a dead baby.

I went back home, sat on the floor of our newly painted baby room and wailed. Having twins was the biggest mistake I had ever made.

From that day on, getting pregnant was all I thought about. * * * I have suffered from depression for most of my life and have been on medication since I was twenty-one. I couldn’t see myself being depressed after they were born. I had my C-section a week earlier than expected on a cold Wednesday night.