Six years ago this month I was struggling with 24 hour a day progesterone poisoning while my twins happily gestated and kicked each other. My biggest concerns at that point were:
A. Would our house ever sell, so we could move out of our two bedroom cracker box?
B. Would I ever stop puking?
My good friend, Jodi, was also pregnant at the time. We've been friends since we were 14 and have been through many life milestones together. It seemed fitting that we were pregnant with at least one of our children at the same time. It was her third child, another boy, and we were both blissfully unaware of what was lurking around the corner for us.
By the end of that year we had both had children with birth defects and we were both facing a world of unknown experiences.
Now, here we are 5 1/2 years later and ironically, we're both muddling through surgery recovery with our children. We've joked that some day O and G (her son) will probably end up falling in love and will get married while we sit and wring our hands with worry over the genetic nightmare of two people with birth defects coming together to procreate.
The truth of the matter is right now, we'd like to send O and G off to their own private vacation destination. We'd call it, "The land of the 5 year old insomniacs" or "The isle of children who are hungry in the middle of the night." We think they would get along there splendidly.
The good news is that life is 100% better than it was. O is recovering from her painful surgery and we are recovering from sleep deprivation and emotional exhaustion.
What a difference a few days makes.
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