Thanks to everyone for the kind words on yesterday’s big announcement.  I have to admit, there has been a strange feeling of anxiety or ambivalence about spreading the news.  A little less unbridled excitement than the first time.  Still excited, of course, but subtly different.

Is it a second-pregnancy thing, simply that the sheen of newness is not there?  That I’ve been down this road before?  The fact that having an additional child, while a big deal, is not the earth-shattering change that the first is, when you go from being a Non-Parent to a Parent?

Is it because this was, at least to the outside world, less anticipated than the first time?  I mean, the first time around, you could practically have set a clock to it.  We made the announcement after having been married a little more than two years.  Clearly, people were watching to see if I was drinking or if I looked a bit peaky.  This time, well, almost no one knew it was coming.  We already had two kids, a boy and a girl.  People occasionally asked if we were thinking about more, but not with the intensity that they would if we only had one child.  And the response was always the same – probably not.  (More on how that changed in another post, I promise.)

I felt the strangest sense of… I don’t know… embarrassment? guilt? apology? when I told people.  It was like, I wanted to tell good friends so they wouldn’t be caught off guard when they suddenly saw an enormous belly or a picture of a newborn on Facebook.  But I felt weirdly compelled to downplay the announcement, wanting to be clear that I was happy but not trying to make a Big Honking Deal about the whole thing.

But, of course, it IS a big deal.  It’s a new person! It’s exciting! It’s cause for celebration!  I know I give a good shriek and a hearty “hooray” whenever a friend tells me they’re pregnant, why would I expect any different?  And, as you guys demonstrated yesterday, the vast majority of reactions were excited and happy and congratulatory, and I thank everyone for that.  But before I had you all to rally around me, I will say that I had a few initially lukewarm reactions that really gave me pause.  “Was it planned?”  “Are you happy about it?”  “Oh, good for you.”  I don’t know.  Maybe it’s because, as in the case of my mom, she was so surprised that she was nearly speechless and hardly knew what to say.  But anyways, a couple of the first calls were a little underwhelming.

For those who asked, we have not yet told the kids, but plan on doing so soon.  M and I have agreed not to make a big production out of it.  We’ll simply sit down, say we have some exciting news about a baby growing in mommy’s belly, and more or less leave it at that until they ask questions.  Especially since they’re about to start preschool and have plenty of other things going on in their lives, I don’t want to put any undue emphasis on this announcement, especially since the actual impact on their lives is so far away.  It will become a Big Honking Deal in its own time, no need to set it up too big for now.

So, there we are.  The cat is out of the bag, and the anticipation was worse (as usual) than reality.  You guys are awesome, I’m psyched, and I’m glad I don’t have to make any more obscure excuses for going to bed at 8:30pm (or why my pants are being buttoned with a rubber band).

The last in a very occasional series on whether or not to have more kids after multiples. [Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4]

Wow, really? The last time I mused randomly on having more kids was the better part of a year ago?  I mean, I mentioned it briefly after I met my nephew in January, but that’s it. Huh.

Frankly, there wasn’t anything new to say.  I want to, I don’t want to, I want to, I don’t want to.  M doesn’t want to.  Oh look, M still doesn’t want to. Fancy that.  Same old, same old. Nothing worth writing about and re-hashing, once again.

I’ve decided it’s time to close this topic.  Several months ago, now, I pretty much resigned myself to being all done. I was bummed at the time, but really, is it such a sad thing? I have two kids who, in spite of recent rough times, are completely awesome. Healthy. Smart. Sweet. Practically perfect in every way. A boy and a girl, even, in a nice neat package. What else do I need?

. . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

And then, something funny happened.

. . .

. . .

M changed his mind.

. . .

. . .

Baby Tres is on his or her way. Early March, 2011.

SURPRISE!

Before I start a-rambling on all of the things I’ve kept bottled up these last 12 weeks, I’m opening it up to questions from the peanut gallery. Anything you want to ask? I’ll happily tell whatever parts of the story you want to hear in future posts.

In the meantime, I’m going to go take another nap.

The third in an occasional series: whether to have more kids after multiples. [Part 1; Part 2; Part 3]

The weirdest part about considering whether or not to have more kids is that I seem to lean in favor of it during phases when my kids are particularly challenging.  Am I a glutton for punishment or what? Maybe it’s because, when the kids are particularly awesome, it’s hard to imagine going backwards to the hard parts.  And maybe, when they’re being a handful, I’m waxing nostalgic for the days without mobility and opinions. Who knows.

But somehow, I’m sort of leaning in favor of the idea at the moment. Have not taken any steps toward it, so this isn’t any kind of “announcement.” Just continued musing on which way the wind is currently blowing.  And despite this parenting thing being crazy hard, despite imagining how exhausting it would be to be pregnant while chasing around a couple of toddlers, despite relishing how much sleep I am able to get these days… I’m still considering it.

There’s no real reason to have a third kid, especially in this day and age. Even having two, to theoretically “replace” yourself and your spouse, doesn’t really make logical sense as any kind of biological necessity in the age of overpopulation.  No, submitting this decision to logical reasoning will get you absolutely nowhere. It’s really only a question of desire. There’s an aspect of resources and logistics, sure, but it’s mostly a question of whether or not you “want” to have more kids.

A lot of my desire for a third isn’t necessarily about that new little person. In a sense, how could it be? I don’t know who they’d be, what they’d be like. A lot of it has to do with wanting the chance to be a second-time mom. A chance to do it over with the slight amount of confidence you’d get from having done it before.

And today, I had the teeniest of previews of life with three kids. A friend was visiting with her newborn and had to leave the house for a few hours.  Of course, the little one slept the first hour and a half, and shortly after she woke up, another friend (and her 10-month-old) arrived. Plus, of course, I hadn’t been up in the middle of the night prior to my time with her.  Still, though, I got a glimpse of the juggling act and could sort of imagine the craziness that would be life with a newborn and toddlers (well, figure, preschoolers by the time I’d have a kid).  And you know what… yeah, totally bit by the bug.  For as much newborns don’t really do anything, I am finding myself strangely drawn to it.

The weird thing is that I’m really not a newborn person. I don’t automatically go all googly-eyed when I see a new baby.  I mean, I do the perfunctory “oh, how sweet!” but that’s about it. They’re cute and all, but I don’t go nuts.  And yet, here I am… drawn to it.  (The beyond-adorable 10-month-old who joined the party was a big draw, too.)

What do you think? Are you the kind of person who melts into a puddle of goo whenever you see a little baby? Or is it something else that gets you waxing nostalgic and thinking… “maybe, just one more…”?

The third in an occasional series: whether to have more kids after multiples. [Part 1; Part 2]

What? Just because I hadn’t written about this in nearly four months, you think I forgot? Hrm. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that much of this spring completely kicked my ass.

Either way, as many of you know, the itch to have more kids waxes and wanes at different points in time. On the one hand, my desire for more is fairly low at the moment. Mostly, I think, because I am really digging the increased independence that my kids have, the things we are now able to do with them, etc. So the thought of going “backwards,” back to the days of two or three naps and all of the other newborn/infant/young toddler stuff, is daunting. And, truly, what more do I need? I have two kids, boy and a girl, happy and healthy and all of that good jazz. Why mess with a good thing?

At the same time…

Last night at our monthly twin mom club meeting, a number of us were chatting about the “more kids” debate. Plus, there is a thread going on our listserv asking that very question. While the questioner’s circumstances are not the same as mine, the question remains.

Today, I think I’ll focus on the question of timing, since that was one of the main issues in the thread going around my MOT club.

I feel like I’m coming up on “the window.” You know what I mean. I don’t really want my kids to be significantly less than 3 years apart, in large part because I’d like to have my older kids in preschool at least part time if/when a new little one joins the party. But I don’t really want them to be much more than four years apart, because that starts to become a rather large separation and it just gets harder for them to play together. Therefore, my “window” for getting pregnant is from when my kids are about 2 and until they’re about 3. And, obviously, my kids are turning two in August. Hence, the near opening of the window.

Aside from all of that, I know there’s only so much you can do with timing. My older kids are going to go through harder and easier phases between now and then, and I can’t attempt to plan around any of that. But in broad strokes, I think it’s a good window. An easier (relatively) age for the kids, plus I’m still in my very early 30s. Once we start to hit fall of 2011… kids will be 4, I’ll be 33. By that time, if we haven’t decided to try for more, then I think we can just call it a day and be done with it.

The one thing I need to accomplish before I attempt to get pregnant again (which remains a very huge IF, both in my mind and in M’s) is to lose some weight. Yeah, sure, everyone says that. But I’m still about 20 lbs heavier than when I got pregnant with my kids, and even that number was way too high to begin with. Not only do I not want to add another pregnancy worth of weight onto what I’ve already got going on, but I have a theory… That theory is on how I became pregnant with spontaneous fraternal twins. I have no family history of twins. I’m young. I wasn’t on any fertility meds. The one “risk factor” I’ve seen that could explain it? Weight. Higher body fat = higher estrogen, which could be connected to the double-dropping. Can I prove it? Of course not. But still… let’s not mess around, shall we?

What do you guys think about timing between kids, especially post-twins? Did you have an idea and then throw it out the window? Do you have a plan? Do you have a good or bad experience with separation between siblings?

The second in an occasional series: whether to have more kids after multiples. [Part 1]

At last count, I know at least ten people who are currently pregnant.  That doesn’t include my two cousins who just delivered.  It doesn’t include the 4-6 moms in our various classes right now, who I don’t know very well.  Ten.  Two due in March, one in June, five in July, and two in the fall.  Only a few are first babies, many are new siblings.  Some are even the very subject of my wonder: a singleton after twins.  With all of this progesterone in my world, it’s impossible not to think about whether to have more kids.

I’m finding a traditional pros vs. cons list quite unhelpful in this situation.  The pros are impossible to articulate. Fuzzy and ethereal, theoretical at best.  Nothing concrete.  The cons, on the other hand, are numerous and specific. Daunting. Convincing.

So, in no particular order, here are some darn good reasons not to have any more kids.  Or, at least, things that M or I worry about.

• Holy crap, do I really want to do this stuff all over again? I already survived the newborn days, sleep training, etc etc etc.  Why would I go back and go through it again if I don’t have to?
• I hated being pregnant. No, seriously. Did not like it one bit. Was uncomfortable for 8 months. Couldn’t sleep. Cankles and hobbit feet. High blood pressure. Stretch marks. Carpal tunnel. And the peeing.  Oh my god the peeing.  And that’s just the parts I remember.
• What would the relationship dynamics be like between the older twins and younger singleton? Would the singleton feel left out for not having a twin? Isolated?  And M’s big one: he already feels like our kids got a bit short-changed on attention for being two-at-once. He thinks that adding another isn’t fair to them or to the new kid. [I don't entirely agree with this one, but still... it's out there]
• Pregnancy weight gain.  I’m still really struggling with the weight I put on with these guys (not to mention all the weight I had put on before I got pregnant). Doing it again is terrifying.
• I fear for my sanity.  I love being a SAHM, but a lot of the time I’m just one enormous stress-case (whether or not I display it on my blog).  And while I think M is a wonderful husband and dad, having kids has put a lot of stress on our relationship.  Do I really want to add more? Her Bad Mother put into words a lot of what I was thinking…
• If I think travel is incredibly expensive and stressful now…
• Honestly, I feel like adding another kid makes moving to Chicago an absolute necessity.  I’m not sure I can (or want to) do more without family around.
• Did I mention I’m a proven double-dropper? My duo were of the unassisted variety: spontaneous fraternal twins. There’s a not-insignificant possibility of having a second set. Hoo boy.
• We always talked about having two kids. It’s a nice number.  Two parents. Two hands. Not an only child, but you can stick with the man-to-man defense. Plus, we even got the nice, neat set of one boy and one girl. Why mess with such lovely symmetry?

Each of these concerns is not equal in my mind.  Some weigh more heavily than others, and I think the added stress in my life in general and on my marriage in particular is probably up at the very top of the list.

A couple of things that, for whatever reason, I do not worry about:

• Getting pregnant.  Sure, I could be proven wrong.  But getting pregnant was thankfully not really a problem for me, and I’m still only 30 years old. (Of course, staying pregnant was trickier, but still…) Hopefully that part would be alright.
• Finances.  I know, I really should be worried about finances. Kids are really frigging expensive.  But somehow that doesn’t strike fear into my heart. We live well within our means, we aren’t big spenders, we have no debt, we have college accounts started… and basically, things seem to work out just fine. Realistic or not, that just isn’t something that is keeping me up at night.
• Logistical stuff: we wouldn’t need a bigger house or a bigger car.  Our house is OK the way it is, no immediate need to seek new living arrangements (aside from wanting to move to Chicago, but that’s for different reasons). We already have a minivan. We could “fit” another kid.

But what do you guys think?  Parents with more kids, are some of these non-issues that I’m just creating in my own mind?  Parents who stuck with two, were any one or two of these enough to make the decision against having more kids for your family?  What are some other reasons not to do this?

And, yes, I’ll be back with the other side of the argument.  Don’t you worry.

The first in what I suspect will be an occasional series / theme over the next 6-12 months.

Let me make it clear right off the bat: I am not pregnant. I am not trying to get pregnant. Measures are taken to ensure that I do not become pregnant. But, good lord, it feels like everyone else is.

Several friends, at least six people from my mom/baby classes, people all over the blogosphere.  These things come in waves, of course.  There was the summer of a thousand weddings, and a few years later it was one baby shower after another.  Now, of course, my kids are (very nearly) 18 months old.  This, clearly, is another one of those waves. Everyone, it sometimes seems, is pregnant with the second kid.

Obviously not really the case with my twin mom friends who have similar-aged kids to mine.  I think those who have twins first tend to wait longer to have additional kids, if at all.  But still… it’s out there. [Like turning 40!]

And herein lies my current internal debate: more kids, or stop here?  With all of the pregnancy around me, it’s hard not to be bit by the bug.  And really, I am lucky and totally hit the jackpot.  M and I more or less agreed that two kids was a good number, and we got the boy/girl split in one fell swoop.  M is more than happy to tell friends, family, and passers-by on the street that we’re All. Done.  Me? I’ve always claimed that I was not committing to the decision, one way or another.

If I do decide that I want more kids (and can convince M), I like the idea of there being roughly three years between the older kids and any new addition(s).  Counting backwards, that tells me I’d like to try and make up my mind in the next six months, around the time my kids turn two.

So, I’ll be turning to you, interwebs, for some help working through my thoughts.  I’ll definitely post again with more specific concerns, but I just want to start by hearing people’s overall opinions and experiences on having additional kid(s) after multiples, and on larger families in general.  For those who, like me, had the two-fer right from the very beginning… have you decided to stop there?  Have you decided to keep going?  Why?  People without multiples, how did you decide on your family size, or are you still in the throes?

I’d love to hear your initial thoughts in the comments, or feel free to write a blog post on the subject and just leave the link.

And seriously, before any of my friends and family get all worked up into a tizzy, this is nothing more than an internal debate right now.  I truly don’t know which side I’m going to end up on.  But it’s certainly something that’s on my mind, and I’d really like to have honest feedback.

Last night was my twin club’s monthly Cope meeting, which I’ve mentioned a number of times before.  As of this month, my friend and I are now the co-chairs of those meetings, so even though it wasn’t at my house this time, I was still sort of half-hosting it.  I have really enjoyed them, and have probably only missed two since my first one a year ago.  It was fun to see the three pregnant women there (at 20, 29, and 32 weeks), and remember that it was me on that side of the table (literally and figuratively) last year.

As often happens when there are moms of babies talking to pregnant women, birth stories started to be shared.  Some were pretty standard, but everyone’s had a twist.  And there were some crazy ones, including one friend whose twins were born seven hours apart (and on different days!), and another wild tale of breech babies, midwives, and an unpleasant c-section.  I started to worry a little and hoped we weren’t scaring the bejesus out of the pregnant women.

Talking to the person next to me, I thought about how we all approach these things differently.  As I said, I went to my first meeting when I was probably 29-30 weeks pregnant.  There was a woman there with 7-week-olds, and she looked like death warmed over.  It was her first meeting, too, and she was clearly desperate in that “please tell me it will get better” kind of way.  But that didn’t totally freak me out.  I actually didn’t mind seeing the insanity or hearing crazy birth stories.  I kept watching all of the stuff on Discovery Health Channel during the day.  Unless it was something really awful that hit close to home (like a woman who lost twins at 20 weeks… shudder), it didn’t really bother me.  I even started to see those shows for what they were: a lot of worst-case-scenarios, and a lot of dramatic voice-overs.  I almost laughed when they showed a woman who had delivered 34-week triplets. She had to leave the hospital with her kids still in the NICU, and the voiceover was all about the drama of having preemies.  And yes, 34 weekers are preemies.  But by then, I knew enough to say “damn, 34 weeks is good for triplets!”  And so those things didn’t scare me so much.

And so the real-life stories of people I actually met didn’t tend to freak me out, either.  Heck, by the time I met most of the twin moms I know, I had already made it to a pretty good gestation.  And, frankly, however bad their stories were, they were sitting in front of me and telling them – they had made it.

And I know other people, two who I’ve talked to recently, who never went to one of these meetings or joined the twin club until well after their kids were born.  And not necessarily by accident.  There was definitely a sentiment that they would just as soon not know what was about to happen, because thinking about all of the crazy stuff would just make them more nervous.  If they just stayed out of it and rolled with whatever happened, they were more able to be flexible and not stress out too much.

That’s just not me. I wanted to know it all, and I’m still glad that I was that way.  I was glad that I knew about the NICU, and things that can go on there.  Not only was I less shocked when my kids went there, but I was also aware of how well they were doing, because I could see how little intervention they were getting.  Things like that.

So, I’m sure that for some, ignorance is indeed bliss. They’d rather just roll with it as it comes and not freak out ahead of time.  I can respect that, and there are times that I take that attitude.  That just wasn’t me when I was pregnant.

It’s Birth Story Week over on How Do You Do It?.  Yes, the sort of thing you’d only find on mom blogs (and probably TLC).  But for those who like a good birth story, especially of the multiples variety, head on over.  Mine went up this morning (complete with a terrible picture of myself that I had not previously posted), and there will be more all week.  Good times!

One year ago today, I had the first ultrasound of my twin pregnancy. I had suspected I was pregnant over Christmas, but didn’t test until I got home. And I wasn’t letting myself get too excited, having gone through a chemical pregnancy and miscarriage earlier in the year. The ultrasound, right before New Year’s, was inconclusive at best. (In retrospect, it was pretty funny. But it was really annoying at the time. Feel free to read the story.) It would be almost two more weeks until I learned my true fate.

2007 was quite a year. Got pregnant, found out it was two, stayed pregnant. Got huge. Avoided most complications, survived pregnancy in the summer. Scheduled a c-section, went into labor anyways. Babies stayed in the hospital, but not too long. Babies came home, I stayed with them. I’m a mom now. A mom of almost-five-month-old twins. The only pictures I took last December were of my dog (and there are only a couple of those). Now, my computer groans every time I open iPhoto for all of the baby pictures. My, what a difference a year makes.

December, 2006 – M and Winnie in the yard.

December, 2007 – Daniel flying home from Chicago

Rebecca in her Christmas PJs

I had the idea for this post a few days, and I thought I’d write it in case anyone found it useful. (Cross-posted from the Babycenter.com bulletin boards)
I had a (fairly) uneventful twin pregnancy, and my kids were born at exactly 36 weeks. Spent a week in the hospital, but mostly to help them transition. They’re now happy, heathy four-month olds. I was thinking about what I’d do differently if I had it to do over, and what would stay the same. So, here’s my list (or, at least what my baby-addled brain could come up with):

THINGS I’M GLAD I DID

• drank a ridiculous quantity of water
• listened to my body and took it easy, pretty early on
• slept whenever possible
• joined my moms of multiples club and got connected with a “big sister”
• maintained a blog – so fun to go back and read the archives!
• told basically no one about the names until they were born
• took a breastfeeding class. Even though it didn’t work out the way I had hoped, I think the education I had ahead of time helped me to do as much as I did.
• Waited until the end of the first trimester to tell our parents. Lesson learned from pregnancy #2.

THINGS I’D DO DIFFERENTLY

• wish I’d taken more pictures, belly shots in particular. I didn’t want to at the time, because I just felt so fat and uncomfortable (and I’ve always struggled with my weight, so who wants a picture of their stomach??). I really only took one, at 30 weeks, and I hated it at the time. Now I look back and think it’s neat, and wish I had more. My advice? Take one every week. You don’t have to show anyone, but you must keep them until your kids are at least 3 months old. Only then are you allowed to go back and start considering whether or not you want to keep them. Trust me, you will.
• a little less “what, ice cream totally counts as calcium!” Yeah, I think skim milk would’ve taken care of the calcium and not created quite as much extra padding.
• finished my quilts and other crafty things for the babies early in the pregnancy, while I still had control over my hands. Carpal tunnel is rough, and the quilts still aren’t done.
• eat an egg for breakfast, instead of a bowl of cereal, on the day of my glucose screening.
• decorated the nursery better. Silly, I know. But I just don’t have an eye for that sort of thing. So they have a perfectly nice, but plain, nursery. I hear my dad has set one up at his house in Chicago, which is where we’ll be next week. I have a feeling I’m going to be jealous, and the kids won’t want to come home.

Obviously, not a lot of major regrets from my pregnancy. But I’m not kidding about the belly shots! Those who don’t think they want to take those pictures – take them anyways. You can thank me later.

Any of the other moms want to chime in?

Oh, and for your viewing pleasure, one of the only pictures I have of myself while pregnant (the others are already posted on this site, though my mom may have one from my shower that I’ve never seen). This is after having lunch with my friend Suzanne, the day before I stopped working.