Archive for the ‘isloation’ Category

I was the formerly infertile mom who brought her beautiful kids into the fertility clinic.  Yup….and I made a bunch of angry infertiles wait while I had my blood drawn so that we could donate our embryos.  They looked at me with such disgust, scorn and disdain.  And I suppose I cannot blame them.  I knew the look in their eyes.  I had the very same look.  The “when is it going to be my turn” look. 

I can remember thinking, while sitting in the waiting room, what kind of a mean, hateful woman, would bring her kids with her, flaunting them to women who are desperate for their own children.  Today, I had no choice.  I didn’t want to be “that woman”.  But the women in line don’t know my story, they don’t know that the bloodwork I had done today will be so that another infertile couple have a chance to have their miracle.  They don’t know the immeasurable amount of tears that went into our miracle finally happening for us.  They don’t know that I have been where they are. 

I am sure some among the group thought that I was there because we were doing IVF again (being greedy).  Oh, if they only knew….neither of my kids slept last night.  They took turns screaming, and the hubby and I got no sleep.  No, I will not be doing IVF again.  Two is plenty….two is more than enough for me.

I sincerely hope that each of those women can forgive me, and I pray that their miracle happens for them.


The kids are fine.  Well, as fine as you can be when you wake up caked in snot….. poor little Melissa.  And let me just tell you how much they love having their noses wiped or sucked out.  They have both mastered the art of the “gator roll” and will try to roll away from any tissue or aspirator.  They are both so stinkin’ strong.  I suppose that is great considering they were so little and premature.  But what the heck am I going to do when they have a tantrum when they are two or three years old.  They are a real handful now….I think I am going to be in trouble.


I must be the world’s worst mother….my babies ate stove top stuffing for supper last night.  They love it.  They fed themselves.  Not really the healthiest meal in the world……..

And for other news:

Both my hubby and my mother have been asking me what they can get me for Christmas.  I had a couple ideas…..

1) a new pair of cowboy boots (square toe).  I had a real nice pair a few years ago, but Sasha decided that they were tasty and ate one of them when she was a puppy.

2) A phillies Hoody sweatshirt or jersey or tickets for a game next season.

3) A gym membership to a place close to the house that has childcare for $10 per kid per month.  I want something for me.  Something that will constructively get me out of the house to do something other than grocery shopping.

Believe it or not, the 3rd one caused yet another fight with the hubby.  You would think that he would want me to be in shape.  You would think that he would want me to be able to work off some of my stress doing something other than sucking down alcoholic beverages.  No, he thinks I want to do it so I can “flirt” and be a “social butterfly” and sleep with the first guy that tells me that I am pretty.  I give up.I told him that I didn’t want a husband who was a warden.  He says he can’t trust me but yet has given me no opportunity to prove my trustworthiness.  He tells me that I am allowed to go out with my friends anytime I want.  The problem with that is all of my friends are at the firehouse and I am not ALLOWED to go near the firehouse.  So, yeah, it is kind of hard to get together with friends.  It is a double edged sword and frankly, I am so done with fighting over the same crap over and over and over (and I am sure you are tired of hearing about it).  There was more (very mature) name calling and yelling and at one point I told him to get a divorce attorney because if this is how the rest of my life is going to be, I don’t want it.  I went to bed.  He came up and was all teary eyed and (3 drinks in) because I didn’t just agree with what he was saying, I was a cold-hearted b*tch.  So, I went to sleep.  He was up a bunch of times in the night and I really didn’t care.  If he falls asleep at work, that is his problem.  The kids were only up once in the night.  They started talking to each other at 4 am but we just let them go.

So, another joy of pure joy here at my house.  More laundry, more dishes, more of the same, every day, the monotony………..

It is an absolutely beautiful day here today.
I should be happy to be up and out and have the ability to take the twins on a walk.
But I am not.
I am not happy.
Well, not exactly.
I am not as happy as I think I should be.
Everyone, including strangers, tell me how blessed I am when I am out with the twins.
But, they don’t know.
They don’t have to get up three, four and sometimes five times a night.
They don’t understand the frustration of two inconsolable cries.
They don’t understand that I feel like I have lost my identity and that at times I feel more like an employee than a mother.
They don’t know what it feels like to not have the energy to even feel human.
Sometimes, I just feel so trapped.

it is such a huge undertaking just to get the kids loaded up and into the car, and then fight with the 47 lb double stroller that barely fits in the trunk, try to accomplish the simplest task without being stopped by six or eight strangers who ask if they kids are twins…. um, yes folks, they are twins, no folks, they are not identical- one is in pink and the other is in blue…. do I need to remove their diapers to show you they are not identical…

I hate to admit is, but sometimes I miss my “old life” and wonder if I have what it takes to be a good stay at home mom. I don’t even know if what I am feeling is normal. I don’t really have anyone to ask. I feel completely isolated.

Even when hubby is home from work, he is preoccupied with one home improvement project or another. And perish the thought of going out and doing something as a family. He is always afraid the kids are going to fuss if we go out. They are 6 1/2 months old…if they fuss, they fuss. People do expect babies to cry from time to time.

I even feel guilty sitting here and blogging because there are literally a million other things that I should be doing.

I never once thought like this when we were still TTC. I just knew that I wanted a baby more than anything. Now, here I am. Twins. Exhausted. Isolated. Lonely. Frustrated.

I have nothing to complain about. There are millions of women out there who would love to have my problems and who can’t. I should just count my blessings, right?