Becoming a mother has been an adventure. My husband and I found out on day three of our honeymoon that we were expecting. One week later we found out that we were expecting twins. We'd planned to have a baby - one - in about five years. So we were over budget and ahead of schedule. It took some getting used to.
Before that little pink line on that little pink stick changed our lives, I had been a student. It took me eight years to get my undergraduate degree, mainly because I had ADHD and didn't realize it until I was given a stimulant medication for weight loss. That was the first time I'd ever been able to focus my energy and attention toward a goal - in this case it was graduation. It was the first time I had ever felt competent. It was the first time I'd ever felt normal. Three years later (just under a week ago), I decided to ask my doctor about trying out a stimulant medication that was specifically for ADHD, given the fact that I'd tolerated the previous medication well and that it had improved my cognitive functioning well enough to create some suspicion that I may have a problem other than loving Oreos too much.
In between discovering that I was capable of being an adult (with the help of stimulants) and graduating with my undergraduate degree (my very expensive, effectively useless undergraduate degree in "Liberal Studies," which is academia-speak for nothing at all), I was accepted to Chatham University's MFA in Creative Writing Low Residency program. I finished one residency before our wedding. Which was followed abruptly by an acute case of pregnancy. Which resulted in the birth of our two beautiful daughters. Which ended my ability to continue the MFA program.
There were other things that happened too, as a result of my becoming pregnant. Things that weren't good in and of themselves, but that turned out to be exactly what needed to happen given the circumstances. I lost my job, of course, because my job had been as a third shift janitor in a manufacturing plant. Yep. Fork truck and all. By the end of my third month I could barely even climb into the fork truck, let alone lift sixty pound garbage cans to empty them. I was having trouble staying awake all night and sleeping during the day. In short it simply wasn't working. I was transferred to a lighter duty job, but it was production and by March - about two months before I delivered - I was let go. I was super angry about it at the time. I felt that my work record up to that point had been impressive enough for them to hire me from temporary to full time. Admittedly, the timing was bad, but it hadn't been only my job that had been disrupted. It had been my life. I felt as though I was being punished for something I hadn't been ready to have happen in the first place.
And by the way, ladies, if your doctor ever suggests switching you from a lower maintenance birth control option (like NuvaRing) to a higher maintenance birth control option (like the pill), make sure you're either perfect with your timing or okay with the fact that something may happen that you aren't ready for.
As the pregnancy progressed, I got over the work situation enough to let it go. I do wish that a bit more consideration had been given to putting me on a temporary leave - it was one of the best jobs I'd ever had as far as pay was concerned, and I did enjoy it when I wasn't lugging around two extra human beings in my uterus. I was invited to reapply when I felt that I could keep up with the work load again. But I have just enough dignity that I won't do that. The invitation was nothing more than lip service. If they really wanted to help us out they would have hired my husband at some point in the year he spent applying, checking on the status of his application each week, and reapplying every two months. I have a lot of issues with the way that pregnancy and family is dealt with in this country as opposed to others. I don't want to get into politics too often or too deeply on this blog, but I will say that I think it's extremely unfortunate that family takes a back seat to work and production in this country. If you compare measures of health and functionality of countries that allow for a long maternity (and paternity) leave with our own you'll notice a striking difference. The more importance a country is willing to place on the health of the family, the better their citizens seem to be. Just an observation. And now I'll drop it.
In the meantime...I was getting ready to deliver. I drove sixty miles every week to the hospital where I would have the girls. I chose to deliver in Erie, Pennsylvania as opposed to locally because the local obstetricians were not amenable to the idea of giving me an elective C-section in order to tie my tubes immediately following the delivery. They wanted me to wait six months and come back for that procedure. But my husband and I knew our limits - financially as well as emotionally - and decided that we needed to make sure we were done with reproductive surprises. Particularly considering how fertile we women tend to be after delivery, I was not willing to risk the six month wait. We were happy to be having our family, but it was already bigger than we'd planned and we wanted to make sure it didn't get any bigger.
I had never even been around babies before. They scared me. And the older they got, the more they scared me. The ones that were old enough to walk around and ask me questions? Yeah. Those ones scared me good and proper. I had a lot to learn about babies before I had two of my own. And my husband, who loved babies and actually talked me into wanting one someday, was apparently just as unprepared as me, when it came right down to it.
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| Miss Juniper Cash |
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| Miss Harper Lennon |
It was a lot to deal with that early in our marriage. We had our moments, although I think we handled them exceptionally well, considering everything we were facing. And we got through it. And now we're nine months out and I understand what all those mothers I thought were crazy mean when they say, "they grow up too fast." Those first three weeks, I absolutely thought I was losing my mind. And now, although I wouldn't want to go back to that for the world, I understand how a person can miss that age. Once it's over. Thank God it's over.
I realized that I wanted to create an online memory of the madness that is my life. I wanted to share my life with others, not just because I'm often housebound (particularly now, in the winter) and the more connections I can make the better, but also to share my story. I want to share my stresses, my failures, my victories and my lessons learned. Maybe it will help someone else. Maybe it will just be for me to share with the girls as they get older. Maybe it will be a place for lots of people in lots of unique situations to come and develop relationships with others in situations like theirs. I would love that.
More than anything, though, and if I do nothing else, I would love to make you laugh with crazy stories from my crazy days as a mom with twin girls. And believe me, there will be stories.
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