Therapy has brought me a lot of self-revelation.
I don’t know what compelled me to go back to therapy. I had felt a bit rejected by my first therapist last year. I missed an appointment (pregnancy brain) and she called me and sounded upset (because I was the last appointment of the day and she could have went home). I never called her back.
Then I went through the hardest year of my life, and was sad. I don’t know if I would call it Post Pardum Depression. I mean, if my pregnancy was normal (IE not premature, one baby with no complications), and I would have felt the way that I did, I would automatically label it PPD. But considering the infertility, the hospitalization for 6 weeks, and the premature birth of my girls- along with caring for two crying infants for 4 months… could I truly call it PPD?
My new therapist says that I had a traumitizing year. I didnt allow myself to think about it all, to sink in. I felt guilty about saying it out loud. I mean, I’m lucky- my girls are fine! Who am I to complain? But I needed to in order to heal. And I am healing.
The funny thing is, with the emotional healing- comes some physical healing too. I am finally starting to lose much of the weight I gained during my pregnancy, and that is what is helping me feel like myself again. It feels so nice for people to notice ( since it is a gradual process) and to be able to pull clothes out of the back of my closet again! I have put away all my maternity clothes.
Putting the clothes away, almost one year after their births…. is like coming full circle. I am healing, but the scars will always be there.. (much like my many stretch marks). I believe I will always fear becoming pregnant again. I will always fear a premature birth. I don’t think I will ever enjoy being pregnant because the fear will haunt me. I envy pregnant women- the hope, the happiness, the lack of fear.
I am about to make another payment for my egg storage. I make payment bi-yearly. My husband asks me why we should spend money on storing the embryos (I have 6 left ), when we could just go through the process again- with a fresh batch. First of all, I refuse to destroy the eggs/blastocyst- whatever you want out call it- because in a weird way, they are my children. They could have easily been Soleil & Neve. Secondly, I refuse to go through the shots, retrieval, transfer… emotional roller coaster- if I don’t have to.
The lab at the fertility center looked at my chart and said that I shouldn’t have a problem becoming pregnant with my frozen cycle when the time comes. My husband and I have discussed when we would try again… and although I had been pretty gung-ho about getting pregnant again after the girls were first born, my husband was completely against it.
He couldnt have been more right. I was dealing with emotions that were eating me up inside- and I was in no way ready to have another child. I guess I just wanted to know that I could get pregnant again, and that I could be able to carry a child to term. I thought getting pregnant again was what was going to heal me.
I was wrong.
We’ve agreed to start trying again when the girls turn 4 (3 years from now). A part of me truly wants to know what it’s like to parent ONE baby. That is why I will only have one embryo inserted. Although the percentage of success will be lower (by only inserting 1), I am willing to take that chance. My body cannot carry twins to term. And frankly, I don’t think we could handle it again emotionally .
And the girls will be old enough to be “Mommy’s little helpers”- getting me diapers, a bottle… whatever it is I need. I love that I have twins- they will have one another, even if mommy can never have another baby.
It saddens me that I have not truly enjoyed their first year. I was vacant for most of it. I am only now just starting to unpack my old clothing… and my old self.