Here's a riddle - how do you have 4 kids but only 2 pregnancies, 2 childbirth stories to tell?
The answer is easy, once you consider twins and an adoption.
I've already written about how my family came together, how I don't even really remember sometimes which kids arrived biologically (never say natural to a parent who's adopted!) which didn't. But to sum it up, fertility attempts, failure, adopt first child. Fertility attempts again, but simultaneous to trying for a second adoption. We didn't really care which way, we just wanted one more. Took nearly 4 years but we got two when the 2nd round of in-vitro succeeded. OK, now we have 3 - 2 boys and a girl. Sounds like a nice sized family, we figure we're done. But we get to that 4 year point, and guess what? Surprise, I'm pregnant. Have no idea how or why. It takes me a while to get over the shock, but my husband is elated, walking around flexing muscles because no matter how much he may have convinced himself that our inability to conceive on our own had absolutely nothing to do with his sexual prowess and masculinity, he suddenly feels more powerful than ever. He (not me) still has that positive pregnancy test stick stashed in a drawyer nearly 12 years and 9 months later. It's a girl, now we have 2 and 2, 4 year age-gaps in between.
So all the stories are so very different. With #1, WHO TURNS 20 this summer, we started the adoption process with an agency in February, finished up all the classes, home studies and paperwork in June. He was born on August 4th, 2 weeks after we met the birthmother (who we still are in contact with). I can almost hear the phone calls - she's in labor, then it's a boy. We went to the hospital the next day. It was a real whirlwind both logistically and emotionally when we took him home. He happens to physically resemble his brother and sisters which just tells me this is something that was meant to be. Although we joke he's much taller, much more athletic and much handier than our Eastern European Jewish genetic heritage would have let him be.
With #2 and #3, now 16, it was a relatively easy twin pregnancy even though I'm now in my late 30's. Dr. made me stop work at 6 months, then put me on full bed rest with a monitor and drugs to stop contractions at 32 weeks. That was miserable, stuck in bed with a 3 1/2 year old boy running around the house, taking medication that makes your heart race. At one point I even got up in an odd way, pulling an abdominal muscle and added pain to the mix. Then at 35 weeks, I go to the hospital for some tests, they decide my daughter is not thriving because my son is basically hogging all the nutrients (some things don't change). So I go from labor-stopping to labor-inducing. They made me (no protests, believe me) take an epidural early because with twins they don't know if it's going to be a c-section or not. It wasn't. The babies are born the next day, healthy but small and they have to stay in the hospital for just under 2 weeks. That was hard, going back and forth every day, caring for my older one, but eventually we all got home, even though I don't think my big guy ever really got over the shock of being king of the world to big brother of two. To this day.
Fast forward another 4 years, to the surprise pregnancy when I'm over 40. Again, a fairly uneventful pregnancy and I work until they have a baby shower for me that really means "Stay home now, Martha" 10 days before my due date, which turns out to be the birth date. I remember waking up that morning thinking I had my period and really bad cramps, which of course turned out to be labor. And then comes my second daughter 12 years ago and I go home still stunned that I now have 4 kids. 4 kids who have fill our house with love but are so very different in terms of interests, academics, athletics and temprament.
And it never feels boring to tell these stories.
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