Gotta be quick!

Last night, Cameron got home around 10. He left at 5:30 that morning and studied all day long. He's been keeping that schedule for 13 weeks straight now. His brain is fried. When he got home he have me a kiss and then said, "did you cut your hair?" 

"...no..."

"Oh! You curled it!" 

"...yesterday." 

We're all pretty excited for Cam's mind to get a break come Friday. Haha. 

Playtime

Things just get better and better with Nash and Granger. They really are sweet. We have our tough times and struggles with learning new things, but there are so many fun new developments that seem to happen every day.

Today was rough. I really overdid it this weekend. I am at the stage where I can forget I'm pregnant. I'm not really sick anymore, I'm not very big. I'm feeling great! We went to the city lights downtown on Saturday. There was so much to see and we walked a ton. It was a blast. And just the family time we needed. Sunday, we got up and went to church early. Afterward, Cam and I made some yummy mexican food and he knocked out for a nap. I was reading a fantastic book and should have taken a nap but I didn't. Cam never takes a nap so when the boys started to stir, I went upstairs as fast as I could to try to let him sleep a little longer. It lasted for a good 45 more minutes! I was so grateful he got the sleep that he needed. After that, though, we had a quick dinner and I headed off to Stake Choir practice. Which lasted 3 hours. Ouch. I was so light-headed and sore afterward! Not to mention exhausted. We went right to bed after I got home, but I still didn't get enough rest.

Cam left for school at 5:15 like he always does, kissed me on the forehead on his way out the door. And 7:15 came far too quickly. I heard the boys. And I couldn't move. I could. not. open. my. eyes. Somehow I managed to get up and crack their door a bit so they could get out and hopefully play in the playroom. I snuck back into bed before they got their door open. It didn't last. I heard them make their way downstairs and I just prayed they didn't destroy the entire house. They came knocking on my door around 8 and I let them in, hoping they'd want to snuggle in bed for a while. Not a chance. They were both super poopy. I rallied and got them in the tub. I laid down where I could hear them well enough to not worry. It lasted 30 minutes due to a few squirts of dad's body wash to make some bubbles. They always smell pretty dreamy after a manly bubble bath.

I got up and got them dressed and managed to get them breakfast. Luckily, we had breakfast for dinner a night or two ago and had some leftover sweet potato/bacon hash. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough getting something in my own mouth and I puked up every last molecule that happened to be in my stomach. Ouch. They downed their milk and I made myself a quick protein shake. Anything for some energy! [Shortly after this, Nash gagged himself trying to be funny and actually threw up on the floor. Awesome.]

I let them play in the backyard afterward. 30 minutes again. We tried to play in the playroom. And by played, I mean I laid face-down on Cam's adjusting table and tried to convince the boys to adjust me. Which they actually love, but weren't very interested in today. 30 minutes again. We watched Handy Manny. Another 30 minutes. By now, it was only 11, and I was completely out of ideas and energy.

I finally got the mommy guilt off my back and decided today was a survival mode day. The quickest way to keep my bored boys from whining is to feed them. I popped a bowl of popcorn, put on the Veggie Tales Christmas special and sat between them on the couch. 45 sweet minutes of quiet and cuddling and kissing their soft heads. Even when I'm exhausted, I love being near them. Though I was grateful to the point of tears that they were finally sitting still.

The rest gave me enough oomph to get them some peanut butter sandwiches and cheese sticks for lunch and change their diapers for naptime. And then I crashed on the couch. It only took 30 minutes of deep, drooling sleep to feel human again. I woke up to creaking floorboards upstairs. They were awake again. It had only been a little over an hour since I put them down! Augh! Not today! I decided to give them 10 minutes because they weren't upset. And they went back to sleep. What a tender mercy.

90 minutes later, everyone was much happier. I went upstairs, got them out, and this time we really played in the playroom. Nash surprised me by pulling out this track we normally keep under the chair and grabbing his truck to drive on it. I found a dinosaur and another truck for Gray. This was the first time they put together that people drive the trucks and they had to have their little person in the driver's seat. One was the ever popular Hawaiian girl on her cell phone. The other was a construction worker. I played the part of the dinosaur. The boys would try to drive around the track without getting caught by the dinosaur. I would roar at them and chomp their car with the dinosaur and they would squeal and grab their car and run away. But they always came back for more.

Playing pretend is the best.

Oh, you boys. I've got a crush on you.

You're mocking me, aren't you?

One of my favorite things is watching the boys responding to the changes pregnancy brings. And I really am grateful they are able to find humor in all this, especially since for about 4 weeks, I was face down on the couch trying to keep it together and praying they didn't completely destroy everything.

They are pretty perceptive, though! Around 8 weeks, they noticed that the kitchen made me sick. Every time I went in the kitchen I gagged. I would take a few deep breaths, go in, get milk or breakfast or whatever for the boys as quick as I could, gag a few times, and get out. One morning, I was psyching up to get them milk and breakfast and I caught them running into the kitchen, making gagging noises, running out and just laughing their little heads off. Like throw your head back laughing.

Gray is also very interested in the baby in mom's belly. Every night, Nash says "bye guys!" as Cam and I tuck them in and shut the door. Gray says "bye baby!" He also likes pulling up my shirt to poke the baby. Which I also think he thinks is my belly button. Same same.

We love seeing pictures of other babies on Instagram. Any kid younger than them or smaller than them is considered a baby. Our favorites are cousin Charly and cousin Kenzee. [Em, I'm not sure how Kenzee got looped into the "smaller than them" category, but "Baby Ehnee!" is a fave.]

They are learning how to give loves right now. We don't really have a lot of stuffed animals and we have absolutely zero baby dolls, but we have an Ernie from sesame street, a puppy from some chiropractic school friends, and the monkey leashes. I love watching them cuddle and squeeze them. They always lay their heads down on top of whatever they are loving. Sweet boys.

The Details

A couple days ago, we posted this:

And we are overwhelmed by the support and well-wishes of so many of our friends. First off, let's talk about those darling boys. My heavens they are handsome. And a major thank you to Jill Witt Photography for capturing this precious day for us.

We took these family photos the morning of the frozen embryo transfer. I was anxious, nervous, distracted. I couldn't stop thinking about that little embryo. I was terrified it wouldn't survive the thaw. These pictures. That morning. It re-focused me on the reason we do every shot, take every pill, pay every cent. Our sweet family. And I lost track of time during that photo shoot. Time finally stopped mattering to me so much. I had been counting the days, hours, minutes. And it stopped. I'm so grateful that the last few hours we were a family of four are captured in such a beautiful way.

And then there's this guy.

If I knew how to communicate just how much confidence he gives me, I would write out every word. But this picture seems to do that. It makes me cry every time. I am so grateful for him. And to be able to see our relationship on such an important day, this picture is such a gift.

Just under 3 years ago when we did IVF to get pregnant with the boys, we had one little precious embryo left. That embryo was frozen at 5 days old. And that embryo was on my mind ever since. I know the boys are young. And oh, I cherish them. I have had fears that I won't be able to devote the time and attention they need and deserve as we bring this new little one into our family. But, this baby is also my baby. Our baby. And I cannot imagine how difficult it probably was to hear "not yet" when his/her mortal body had already started its creation. As this baby is my child, patience is not a strong point. And one day I just knew it was time. It was time for that baby to know (s)he had not been forgotten. Could never be forgotten. Not for a moment.

After that day, we moved forward with a frozen cycle. Again, pieces fell into place. A minivan showed up on craigslist the next week with low miles that we could pay cash for. We sold our truck for the exact amount of the frozen transfer. A friend had a great recommendation for a clinic here in Dallas that could do our blood work and ultrasound monitoring.

And that's when the adversary decided to pick up his game. Every. Single. Step. Forward. got messed up somehow. The pharmacy sent the wrong size syringes, so my first shot had to be postponed after we almost injected over 10x the prescribed amount of Estradiol. The clinic here in Dallas didn't get my results to the clinic in Utah correctly. We started our big progesterone shots a day late. I left my suppositories in Dallas after we flew to Utah for the transfer. Even just getting on the flight to Utah was a circus. We had to postpone the transfer a day due to medication mix-ups.

Every one of those medications is vital to keeping our little one alive and growing. And something went wrong with every single one of them. To say my faith was tried is an understatement.

So after all those beautiful family pictures, when reality sunk back in...this is what I looked like:

I accidentally left my "eventually" bracelet at home. I wear it religiously to anything family related as a symbol of optimistic faith. And I forgot it. Add that to the list of things that went wrong. [Sidenote: while unpacking our suitcase, I found out it did actually make the trip to Utah and I just forgot where I put it...] In a panic that morning, I scrawled eventually on my wrist anyway. I needed that strength and that symbol of faith with me, no matter how meager.

And then the nurse brought me a valium. 

The transfer took about 5 minutes. Cameron gave me a blessing. We enjoyed the quiet room for a half hour, just talking about everything and soaking up the possibility of this new little one. 

And then we went home to bed rest. Not being able to pick up the boys was by far the hardest part. I am so grateful my parents were there and that we were staying at Jessica's house. I don't know what I would've done without 4 adults to keep me from getting up and to help keep the boys from jumping on me! 

 I sure loved getting to snuggle with them though. I missed them!

We spent a week with Emilee and Adam and then flew back to Texas where Cam's parents were waiting for us. I was really grateful for the distraction. They spoiled the boys completely and it did my heart good to see them so happy and to see Cameron so happy. When the people I love are happy, I need nothing else. 

Monday, September 9th was Cameron's first day of school. His parents were still here. I sent him off to school and tried to go back to bed, but at 9am, I would be at the clinic getting my blood drawn and then anxiously awaiting the phone call that would tell us whether or not a new little one would be coming to our family. I couldn't go back to sleep. 

Cam's parents watched the boys. I went to the clinic. Armed this time. 

The rest of the day was a blur of trying to keep myself busy and my mind off of things. I browsed Old Navy for a while trying to convince myself I could buy a baby sleeper to celebrate. I text message shopped with my Jill for about an hour. And then decided I couldn't jinx it. I left the sleeper at the store. I was a nervous wreck. 

I came home, went out again to buy the sleeper, turned around again after talking with my mom and tried to take a nap while the boys and Cam's parents slept. I slept for about an hour. And then my phone rang. 

It was the Dallas clinic. I didn't answer. They weren't supposed to give me the results. I didn't want to hear it from them. Ten minutes later, the Utah clinic called. I didn't answer. We had arranged for them to leave the result in a voicemail so I could listen to it with Cameron. 

I kept that voicemail on my phone for 3 solid hours without checking it. In the meantime, Jill texted me Friends quotes and Lindsay talked to me about who knows what for at least an hour. And I didn't check that voicemail. 

We met Cameron down at the school at 4:30. He didn't know I didn't know yet. He didn't know we would find out together. 

We found a quiet hallway. He held my hand and wrapped me up in his arms. I pressed play. 

Hello, little one. We can't wait to meet you!

_______________________________________________________

Specifics:
- I am just over 12 weeks.
- I was SUPER sick. Way sicker than I was with the boys. My midwife [and everyone else I mention that to] is pretty near convinced it's a girl. We will be thrilled with either. But my mama intuition is leaning toward girl as well. Talk about jinxing it. :)
- The sickness ended after Halloween night. Hallelujah. I had been losing weight [still not really gaining it back yet.] and my midwife said if I lost another pound I would be headed toward an IV. Hopefully, we're headed the other direction soon!
- I'm due May 19th.

Daily Details

Lately Gray's happy place is the bathroom sink. He climbs up there any time the bathroom door is open. A lot of the time, this is right after baths. He has absolutely no interest in a towel. He climbs up on the toilet, nudey-booty, up onto the counter and then sits in the sink and jokes with himself in the mirror, and pulls the sink plug rod up and down, or clean out of the sink [it doesn't really work.] He will stay in their upwards of 20 minutes if I let him! Happy as a clam.

The boys have also been obsessed with shoes, the past couple weeks. Most mornings, I get them out of their cribs and change their bums right away. I get them a clean shirt, but I let them go pantsless unless we're going somewhere. If we're just staying home I have no desire to pull their pants off and put them back on at every diaper change. Call it lazy, call it efficient. It's not changing any time soon. haha. However, the boys have a little shoe basket in their room, and without fail, the very next thing they do is run over to it pick out a "thoo" and run over to me to put it on their foot. This happens until all 4 feet are covered, and then some. How do you reason with an 18-month-old who already has tennis shoes on his feet that is shoving a flip-flop in your face and demanding "thoo! thoo!" But taking off one of the tennis shoes is absolutely not an option. How dare you think that! haha. They crack me up. [Gray was the one sad about not having a third foot, just for the record.]

Something has recently gotten into Nash and he refuses to get out of bed unless I am ready to wrap him in his blanket and snuggle him in the rocking chair for a minute or two. I truly don't mind it one bit. I love that he is a snuggle bug. And all too soon, his little head pops off my shoulder and he slides off my lap to go find the shoe basket. But some mornings he asks for "Harry" and we read Harry, the dirty dog cover to cover at least twice.

The other day, we were up in the playroom and I was trying to convince Nash that there were other books to read besides Harry. He walked over, picked up a book of Row, Row, Row your boat, pointed to a duck on one of the pages and started "cack! cack! cack!" ing. I have never asked him what sound a duck makes. As far as I know, neither has Cameron. Someone taught him that, but it definitely wasn't me. Here's looking at you, grandparents! Or maybe one of the cousins we visited a couple weeks ago? Either way, it made my day. Smart cookie.

Bedtime Prayers

We've been working a lot lately on folding our arms and being reverent for prayers. It normally lasts less than 5 seconds and the rest of the prayer is spent running in circles around me. But sometimes, things just click. Those moments are pure gold as a parent.

Tonight, Cameron was out at a seminar late. I let the boys play outside after dinner. I talked to my sister Lindsay on the phone. She still hasn't had her baby. But she is loopy! She always makes me laugh so hard. I opened the back door and said, "Let's go get in the tub!" They both ran right inside, up the stairs, and I found Gray trying to open the bathroom door by the time I got up there. Smart cookie.

After bathtime, we did jammies and a story. And then I knelt on their bedroom floor just like I always do, for prayers. I asked Nash to fold his arms. He sat down right next to me and folded his arms. I asked Gray to fold his arms and he gave me a sneaky grin and ran around a little bit to see what I would do. I started the prayer anyway, hoping to reward Nash's behavior before the opportunity passed. I can't help but sneak peaks at the boys whenever they fold their arms or hands for the prayer, so I had my eyes open a tiny crack. Just enough to watch as Granger knelt in the space near me and Nash. Making our family prayer a circle for the very first time. They both folded their arms until I said "amen." And then jumped up as proud as they could be. And I smothered them in kisses, and we cheered with our hands in the air touchdown style.

Being a mom is the best.

note- this picture was taken a few nights earlier. we have slowly but surely been working on this habit, so there have been a few fleeting opportunities to snap moments like this!

Plane Drama

For the past 3 weeks, Cameron has been stressed to the max with school. When Cameron gets stressed, he tends to go a little farther over to the side of "control freak." And so, it was every day for 21 consecutive days that he asked me what time our flight left to go to Utah. And every time, I answered 10:55 in the morning. By the third week, I asked him to write it down so he could stop asking me. I was really annoyed!

The morning of the flight, we left the house spotless at 9am. We picked up our friend Wade. He was going to drive us and our van to the airport. I sat in the back so Wade and Cam could talk and flipped blankly through my phone. I checked my e-mail and noticed a message from the airline. There had been a flight change. I scrolled through the message skimming as I went and noticed it said our flight left at 10:05! I told Cameron. To his credit he didn't freak out. He drove a little faster, and focused a little more. And we started crunching numbers. It was 9:20. We were stuck in traffic 10 minutes away from the airport. Yuck.

As I read the e-mail a little further, I realized that the flight time never changed. It was always at 10:05. The flight change was "flight 720" is now "flight 659" or something totally useless like that. I fessed up to my mistake. Or rather the 21 mistakes I had made in the days leading up to this. And Cameron again responded with patience. I didn't expect that. But I was really grateful. I felt pretty dumb already.

There wasn't much time for sulking though, so I put my problem solving hat on and plugged the airport into the navigation on my phone so I could check traffic and help us get to the airport as quickly as possible. And that was when I started screaming at Cameron to take the upcoming exit. While he and his friend in the front seat knew very well not to take that exit. I was pretty convincing though, because he took it. And I watched another ten minutes roll onto our estimated arrival time. Oy. I have always thought my dad was full of it when his preferred teammate on the Amazing Race was my brother J.T.. I always thought I had fabulous navigation skills. In this exact moment, I was yanked out of that denial so fast. I am a terrible navigator.

And to his credit, Cameron didn't get upset at me, again. His patience is saintly. And that is not one bit exaggerated.

We rolled up to the airport at 9:40. I told Cameron to grab as many bags as he could carry and run to check us in. I would figure out how to unload everything and get it up there. We were in high gear. And we had a ton of stuff. 2 carry-ons, 2 backpacks, 2 diaper bags, 2 car seats, 2 babies, and a stroller. That all needed to be transported by us up to our gate. I loaded the diaper bags in the stroller along with the boys and took the elevator up to where Cameron was, dropped that load off and went back down for our rolling suitcase and the carseats. By the time I got up to the check-in, Cameron let me know we had missed the check-in window and we couldn't print boarding passes.

I asked the employee behind the counter if we could run for it. We had 25 minutes! We had to try! And the next flight wasn't for another 9 hours. Yuck. So we took off running to gate C20. 15 gates away. Cameron took the stroller and everything we could load on it. I grabbed everything else. He ran. I hobbled. A very kind employee took everything from me and ran to Cameron. And then Cam looked at me in horror and said "I left the duffel bag!" And so, I kicked off my shoes and ran 15 gates back to where we had tried to check in initially. Deep down I was grateful he had made an error of any size. And as I sprinted, I caught sight of myself in one of the floor to ceiling windows. And I looked good. "I've trained for this!" I thought. I had just finished insanity. 15 gates? no problem! And then I picked up the bag, and tried to run back. And I about died. It was heavy! I went as fast as I possibly could and asked the people in the line at security if we could go in front of them. We looked like a circus. And they happily obliged.

Disassembling everything to get through security was insane. We were moving so fast! Bag after bag went through the scanner. The stroller was folded down. Boys on our hips, we repacked everything. Put shoes on, stuffed everything in any open bag. Gray wouldn't sit down in the stroller,s o he didn't get buckled. Cam said "We have to run!" I had the super heavy duffel bag and the two car seats. I physically could. not. run. And I said "GO! STOP THE PLANE!" And the love of my life took off running through the airport, 15 gates back, to gate C35. One hand steering a double stroller loaded down with two boys, and every bag imaginable and pulling the rolling suitcase behind him with the other. He was sprinting. I have never been so attracted to him in my life.

He was wearing yellow. I was moving as fast as I could. Which was not fast at all. I saw Cam make it to the gate and come back into the hallway looking for me. He started gesturing with his arm, "Come on! Come on!" I turned to the very next person I saw walking toward me, which happened to be a man holding nothing but a briefcase. I asked him if he was in a hurry. "No." "Well, I am! Will you take this bag and run with me to that gate?" And we did.

Down the ramp we had the biggest smiles on our faces, ever. We sat in our seats at 10:04. They closed the door and away we went. Sweaty, but on time.  We opened those little AC vents as far as they would go and put our faces right up to them.

And we were pumped! We felt invincible.

Pshh. Flying with twins. No big.