Last First Date

My story begins, likely not much different than most.

Girl born in NY. Raised in a family with a yard and a fence.
2 kids. 2 parents. And many, many pets.
Camp. College. Grad School.
Then came living the single life in NYC.
Doing all the things.
Making all the mistakes.
Having all the fun.
Searching for THE guy through it all.
Never dreamed of the wedding, or the career, or the house, or the family.
But the guy, always the guy.
Definitely didn’t want kids. Life was too fun for that shit.
After 33 years, still no guy. But there were approximately 500 Jdates. Which led me nowhere except to a shitload of incredible stories.
Then, the internet started catching up to me and my need for more dating sites. Match. Zoosk. Coffee Meets Bagel. Eharmony.
And then it happened. OKCupid.
One week week on the site and I met a guy. I started talking to this guy. He loved Phish. I love Phish. He was funny and super, super cute.
He didn’t own a calendar. He asked me on a date for “next Thursday”.
Thursday, was Valentine’s Day.
The last, first date I had, was on Valentine’s Day.
And on that day, I met my husband.
I kind of even knew it then.
That’s where my story begins, but it hardly ends there. That truly was just the beginning…

Do Not Disturb

This morning after four nights of no sleep – thank you four month sleep regression – I jumped out of bed, a little fuzzy from a tad too much wine last night (and maybe from the martinis the night before…).

Today I have things to do!

Work on this blog I decided HAS to happen now. Create the website. Brand myself. Also finish the apartment – my new West Elm table and bench are coming today! I have a call with a journalist about my infertility journey. I have another call with a coach to help me figure out this whole new me!

Both babies were crying. But they could wait. They’d been fed. They’d been changed. They’d been burped. They have no reason to need me right now.

Made the coffee. Grabbed the water. Toasted the Trader Joe’s pop tarts because they’re just so damn good.

Sat at the computer.

Got to work.

And then I looked at my babies faces. They were staring at me. Their little blue eyes and teeny tiny faces peering up.

I realized today is the 25th of January. This means I’m back to work in a month.

One month.

I’ve been with them for four. Where did the time go? What was I doing? How did it happen so fast? Was I present? Did I give them my undivided time? Did I nurture enough? Give enough of me?

The answers don’t actually matter, and in fact bring up so many more questions.

What matters is. I have one month left with them.

So I scooped them both up. One in each arm. Tucked carefully in.

And we climbed back to bed. Jory on my left. Marley on my right.

They both fell asleep instantly.

I canceled the 10:30 call.

There was just a knock at the door, I didn’t answer.

Everything and everyone can wait. These babies need me. And I need them.

If you need me, I’m sorry but for the moment there’s a proverbial sign on my door.

Do Not Disturb.

Transfer-versary

I missed the 4 month mark by a long shot.

But bear with me here.

A year ago today, the day started like any other. I suppose it ended like any other as well.

It’s what happened in the midst of the norm that changed everything.

That day we took a risk, followed a dream and attempted to complete our family.

I don’t believe much in “fate” or “its meant to be”.

I do, however, believe in science and calculated action.

Anything could have happened that day to change our course of events. We could have been dead tired from the march the day before. We could have missed our train, I could have (still) been sick, Nathan could have stayed home. The doctor who did the procedure could have been on his C game, or A game for that matter. The embryos could have thawed differently. Or a billion other tiny events could have occurred.

All that said, what happened is what happened. And one year later here we are.

Maybe a little more ragged, definitely a little poorer, absolutely more sleep deprived – but so much richer in love and life than we were on January 22nd 2017 (and I thought it was all perfect then!)

It’s funny how life works. You see or expect it heading in one direction – and then something happens and that all disintegrates into thin air.

Ten years ago (hell, five years ago) I would have said kids weren’t my thing. And maybe they still aren’t. But my kids, though. My THREE kids. Are my world. I have a partner who I can lean on and rely on for anything. (He wraps my towel around the heat source in the morning so when i get out of the shower I have a warm bathrobe to step into. Who does that??)

So perhaps I missed their 4 month shoot over a week ago. And perhaps I couldn’t tell you the last time I was outside or washed my face. But I am so lucky in love, beyond words, beyond measure.

Happy transfer day little guys. And happy four months, a week + overdue.
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Really, Real. Not Social Media, Real.

Having a real moment.

I so appreciate all the love I’ve gotten on Social Media. People just love twins. And I’ve been insanely lucky that all of my babies have been good babies and it’s really been manageable.

But today has been awful. I have a migraine. Haven’t slept in three nights. Babies aren’t napping during the day. I was sure they were 12w today. No they’re 13w. 3 months actually.

I do not have a cute picture of them dressed well with their respective stuffed animals. I have this picture of me. Un-showered. Teeth definitely un-brushed. Pumping for the first time today at 4:30.

Miserable by all accounts.

With the good comes the bad. With the wonderful comes the awful.

Just wanted to reality check for a second. Now I have to go back to shutting one eye because the light is too bright.

You made me a Mom

2 years ago I became a mom.

A role that hadn’t crossed my mind until I met Nathan.

From that moment on, absolutely everything shifted. Priories. Ideals. Life. Love.

Since then a lot has changed.

Body. Mind. Soul…Bank account.

It’s not easy.

I’m thankful for my village. My family. My friends.

I’m blessed with new friends from this part of my life. Friends I share a different piece of me with, than any other kind of friendship.

The things I care about now are different. I feel more passion now than I have before.

I love this life and everything it comes with.

I’m grateful for a husband who shares all the responsibilities – if not(significantly)more.

The late nights. The early mornings. The dishes. The messes. The tiffs. The diapers. The extra weight. All taken in stride.

It’s all worth it for this kind of Love.

I just wish I could win the lottery to pay for all these damn kids.