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Fresh outta time for memory lane.

Max’s birth was unbelievably average. I got induced, was in labor for a few hours, pushed a couple of times and he was out. I held him, we hung out, then took him home. Hudson and Lucas’s was not.
Having had such an ordinary experience the first time made the surprises of the second even more difficult to cope with.

For the last week or so I’ve been caught off guard with thoughts about the babies’ delivery and first couple of weeks. Out of no where, the fear and anger that I felt will rush back and I will literally sweat thinking about the NICU nurse visiting before delivery, the cold, white operating room, a purple little Lucas and feeling like I was completely out of control.

A few days ago I was going through old baby clothes to give to my friend Amanda. As I went through all of those tiny little outfits I started to get short of breath and sad. All of the moments and feelings that I’ve done such a good job blocking out began to surface again; I didn’t feel sentimental, I felt anxious. I seriously feel like I’m reliving that day over and over again and until yesterday I couldn’t figure out what was going on.

When I was in Amanda’s office yesterday (she’s my work wife, whom I will miss dearly when I retire) I was telling her about all of my feelings as of late. She too is a mom of surprise identical twins born at 34 1/2 weeks so she gets it, she really does. Our kiddos were just feeder/growers and in retrospect, our experiences really weren’t that horrible, so why have I been physically feeling all of this anxiety again?
Turns out, I’m not alone. Before her girls’ first birthday she started to relive her daughters’ birth and their NICU days, and she found herself upset and anxious all over again.

We talked about the fact that we watched our kids get taken away from us. It’s completely unnatural for every aspect of your life to revolve around caring for these babies and then not being able to touch them, hold them, or even see them right away. You’re left with a gaping hole in your heart. You feel robbed, you feel angry, you feel scared and you feel completely helpless and out of control. You “heal” for a few days and head home from the hospital – without your babies. As we’ve been preparing for their first birthday I have felt every single one of those feelings every single day.

I’m just glad to know that I’m not completely nuts and that the zoloft hasn’t stopped working like I originally thought. It’s just a tiny little reminder from God to give them a smooch because they’re incredible little miracles. Hopefully in two weeks this all subsides because I’d much prefer to go back to not having many emotions.

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