Double the blessings, Double the fun!

A glimpse into the every day life of raising twins–with lots of help from God!

A Time to Rest December 15, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — dbltheblessingsmama @ 10:40 pm
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It’s amazing how much babyhood revolves around sleep, or lack there of. Lately, my 21 month-year-olds have been on bouts of sleeplessness. Waking multiple times a night, and naptimes ceasing to exist has quickly thrown my body clock and theirs out of balance. There are times when one or the other just wants to be held and comforted. One day, after one of my boys just would not nap, he and I sat together and rocked quietly. For a while, frustration ensued. Frustrated because I didn’t have “my naptime” and frustrated because he wasn’t getting the sleep he needed. But as we rocked, I shoved those thoughts aside, and was reminded that it wasn’t too long ago (but it seems like forever ago!) when he and his brother were tiny newborns, and I longed to just sit and hold them as they slept in my arms.


A little over a year ago, we brought our babies home and the waiting was over…but now what?! I jumped into the motherhood pool with both feet, with little training but a whole lot of love to keep me afloat. In the early months of the boys’ birth our schedule looked a little like this:


-Babies wake up

-Mommy wakes up

-Change babies

-Mommy takes 15 minutes to get ready to nurse them; set up Boppies, strap on tandem nursing pillow, get extra blankets, towels, pillows, water, oh wait gotta go pee, scratch that, then do it all over again…. (sounds kinda funny now, but at the time it was NOT funny at one o’clock in the morning)

-Babies nurse for twenty minutes or so

-Burp babies, which isn’t always easy!

-Swaddle babies

-Put babies back to sleep

-Mommy pumps for 25 minutes more

-Mommy stores milk and cleans up

-Mommy sleeps for 30 minutes

-And repeat…


The schedule was pretty intense, especially for someone like me who does not do well on little sleep, but the thing that made my heart ache the most was that I just felt like a feeding and changing machine. I couldn’t just hold my babies while they slept. I was always handing one boy off to someone else or putting one down. It seemed everyone else got to hold and snuggle them while pushing me off to go take a nap or pump. I’m not going to lie, when I was around my other friends who had just had a baby as well, I felt a tinge of envy as I’d watch her just sit there chatting away as their little baby slept peacefully in her arms.


After the fog of the first month or two—or was it three? — cleared, we fell into a good sleep routine, and I got to experience sleeping four to five hours and then eventually through the night and even managed to fit in a nap from time to time. But I realized while some stages in babyhood seem to be unending, there are others that just don’t last long enough.


So, fast-forward back to the beginning, rocking my boy while he quietly dozed quickly went from frustrating to peaceful as I reminded myself that’s what I wanted all along; to be able to enjoy those quiet, tender moments that are reserved for mothers.


Through this experience, God helped me to see a tiny glimpse of what He may be experiencing with us. He watches us through our busiest days, fulfilling all of our daily obligations and responsibilities. He watches our victories and struggles, our proudest moments and our most shameful. He watches us put Him on the calendar for an hour on Sunday. How painful must it be for our Father to watch us fill our lives with everything but Him, looking to everything else but Him for answers. He watches, but really wants our most quiet and peaceful moments to be with Him; to give us rest, and peace, and comfort from a tiresome world.


[And Jesus said:] I thank thee, O Father, thou has hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes…come unto me all that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest…


                                                            -Matthew 11:25, 11:28


The Virtuous Dove June 5, 2012

Though ye have lien among the sheepfolds, yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold. 

             -Psalm 68: 13(**reference below)

Our family is blessed in so many ways; however, we are not blessed in the dishwasher category. This lack leaves me devoting a lot of time doing dishes, which usually leaves me cranky and resentful. I never thought that God would use this mundane household chore to teach my bad attitude a lesson and inspire my ongoing journey into motherhood.

One day, elbow-deep in soapsuds, I happened to look out the window above the kitchen sink and noticed a pair of mourning doves grooming each other out in the backyard. Every day I’d stand in front of the sink, and the doves’ courtship and care for one another. Where one was, the other was never far away. I watched the pair for about a week until one morning I noticed the female had chosen the spot for her nest in a nook of a branch of the big maple tree that shades our yard. She chose her spot and there she remained. Now, instead of resenting the dishes, I looked forward to it as a chance to peer into the lives of the little family starting right above us. In fact, every time I’d pass the window I’d check to see if she was still there; and every time, there she was. Her mate would bring her long grasses and twigs to build her nest, but she did not budge.

A couple days into her nesting, Colorado weather reared its rare stormy-head. It was incredibly windy and cold. Rain cut through the wind and pelted the windows like little pebbles. From mother to mother, I worried about the dove sitting up there all alone in the wind and cold. I’d check up on her and there she sat staring straight ahead and sitting steadfast on her nest. Here I was, complaining and cranky about dishes, when I had a refrigerator full of food, a heated home with working electricity and plumbing and two darling boys to raise, and this little dove sat through the elements with no food or shelter in order to preserve the life that was growing beneath her—come hell or high waters, she had a job to do! In a little research I did on mourning doves, she builds her nest with little, meaning that the eggs’ only cushion and warmth comes from the mother; if she left her nest, the eggs would surely perish.

In retrospective, my worry for her was unnecessary since she was a wild animal and wild animals have instincts that far surpass our human need for comfort. After all, she didn’t seem worried or scared. She didn’t seem inconvenienced that she had to sit there through the storms that came at her; she didn’t seem angry or resentful of the job that was given to her. She was strong and confident in her place and what she was supposed to do, despite how uncomfortable it might have been for her sitting up there.


Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? -Matthew 6:26

I’ve had many conversations with myself and other moms about the self-sacrificing that’s involved in having children. We, as mothers, give and give of ourselves for the well being and nurturing of our children, it oftentimes feels there is nothing left for us. I’ve heard moms of small children say they don’t know who they are; they don’t feel like they’re doing enough. Some are resentful that they don’t have any personal time. Believe me, I’ve felt all of the above. I’ve thrown sleep-deprived tantrums that my poor husband has had to witness because of these feelings. But they are just that, FEELINGS and FEELINGS are not always TRUE.


My little children let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth. And hereby we know that we are of the truth, and shall assure our hearts before him. For if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things.

– 1 John 3:18-20

Ultimately, I believe mothers have a God-given instinct to sacrifice themselves for their children—whether or not mothers tap into that is another story. When mommies say, “I don’t know who I am!” My response is: “Right now, you’re a mom! And what an AWESOME thing to be!”

Just like the dove, we have a job to do. When our children are young and in the stage of needing protection, nurturing, education and care, we should be steadfast and wholehearted in that job, not resentful and sad. We should embrace our sacrifice and look at it as giving glory to God. Raising a family in HIS name brings joy to Him. After all, God sacrificed His family—His son (John 3:16)—so we can have the freedom to raise our families in His Glory and have everlasting life in His son’s name. So giving up: sleep, favorite pastimes, staying out late, fancy vacations, fashionable clothing and cars that don’t involve food stains in the carpet, in exchange for the privilege of raising the next generation is a small exchange compared to the blessings, grace and everlasting life God has poured upon us because of the sacrifice His son made.


Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them. Remember the day you stood before the Lord your God at Horeb, when he said to me, “Assemble the people before me to hear my words so that they may learn to revere me as long as they live in the land and may teach them to their children.”

-Deuteronomy 4:9-10

I had no idea while I was ‘boo-hooing’ over dishes, that God was teaching me an invaluable lesson through a little, but strong dove. He reminded me of my place in this world, and IT’S NOT EASY! It’s stormy, and us moms sit there getting pummeled with guilt, fear, worry and negative feelings. Winds of this world try to knock us down and the chill of the adversary tries to get us to give up. But if we hang in there and find joy in the storms, and hang onto our purpose and the job God’s given us to do, we will see the sun and feel its warmth. We will reap what we’ve generously sowed. And just like the dove, we will see our children grow strong wings and one day fly in the name of the Lord to bring light the to dark world that lies ahead of them. What a glorious reward us moms (and dads!!!!!!) will be given.

This certainly isn’t the first time that God has used a dove to send a message to his people and I am so blessed that this dove brought peace to me when I needed it most. Sometimes, we all need to be given an olive branch as a reminder of God’s love for us.










**David had at times witnessed a dove taking refuge in the sheepfolds or a makeshift stable that was probably a dirty, filthy place. However, when the dove rose from this place, it remained a beautiful sight to see. The dove, often a symbol of peace in The Word, is also used a symbol of purity as used in this verse. So even if we are in an uncomfortable place, we are to rise above, pure and beautiful as the dove.

Definition of sheepfold: “Such is sometimes made by the shepherd when he is a distance from his home, or especially when he may be in the territory of mountains. It is a temporary affair that can be taken down easily when it comes time to move on to another location. A fence is built of tangled thorn bushes or rude bowers. This is all the protection that is needed, as the shepherds often sleep with their flocks when the weather permits. Ezekiel mentions such a sheepfold when he predicts the future of Israel: “I will feed them in a good pasture, and upon the high mountains of Israel shall their fold be” (Ezek. 34:14).” Reference citation: “Manners and Customs of the Bible Lands” (2 of 2) [27/06/2004 11:19:27 p.m.].…/Manners%20and%20Customs.pdf. 6/2/2012/ 5:34 pm.


God’s speedy delivery May 27, 2012

Filed under: Double Duty! Double Blessings! — dbltheblessingsmama @ 8:19 pm

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

 -John 14:27


I’ve always been a worrier. I’ve also always been a planner; and believe me, most times, the two don’t mix because what’s the point of worrying about things I have little to no control of?  Planning and preparedness is a strength when it comes to logical and tangible things like work and school, but matters of the heart don’t fare as well. The great thing about these two flaws of mine is that God knows my weakness, and works with it. He’s helped me to put on my gloves and roll with the punches. For example, I always seem to find myself  “falling into” an opportunity or dilemma on the spur of a moment—so I don’t have time to worry or plan about what I’m going to do with it. I just have to find comfort and confidence that God will guide me through. He has done this in many areas of my life including job opportunities, my wedding, uncomfortable confrontations with people and so on. This also happened the way I became pregnant; I didn’t stress or mark my ovulation on a calendar and time it just right. I know it’s not so easy for other women, but for me it just happened—which is the best thing for me personally or I would have driven myself crazy (just ask my husband). Then, I found out I was having twin boys six months into the pregnancy—welp, better get a minivan fast! And the way those precious boys entered this world? If I had time to think about that, with my personality, I would have gone crazy with stress and worry and planning…and it still wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere because God had His plan for their grand entrance (or exit?) way before I did.

At the end of my pregnancy, I was huge, uncomfortable and so ready to meet my sons. I had been trying all the wives’ tales to try to induce labor on my own. However, on the morning of my 37-week appointment, I felt an incredible peace as I was getting ready to leave. My gut (a.k.a. God’s still-small-voice) told me I should bring my hospital bag. The drive to the hospital was quiet and worry-free.

At the doctor’s office I was lying on my side while machines monitored the babies’ heartbeats (a routine I had gotten used to by then!) and my doctor came in, took one look at me and said, “You look miserable, do you want to have your babies today?” No time for me to worry or plan or think so I said, “Yes!” My heart leapt for joy that I would get to meet my little guys, but I also had a tinge of sadness because I really wanted to experience this pregnancy from beginning to end—meaning go into labor on my own. Either way, my boys were coming!

At 11 am, the nurse started me on Cervadil and told me it would probably take about seven hours to take effect and then they would start Pitocin. This was definitely not the labor I’d envisioned, but there I was just rolling with it. Two hours into the Cervadil my water broke and I went into labor on my own. Praise God! The contractions were bearable and I’m sure that I could have continued without an epidural (but that’s me saying this after the fact!), but my doctor painted a pretty interesting picture when he said that I might be more comfortable with an epidural in case he had to “reach in and grab a baby.” So I got the ‘juice’ despite my reservations.

Around 5:30 pm, my doctor came into check on me. He said I was only 1 cm dilated and it probably wouldn’t be until midnight when he’d start me on Pitossin. He said he was going home and for the nurse to give him a call.

The nurse told my husband and mother that it would be a good time for them to get some dinner and for me to take a nap. Everyone left the room and I was alone. I tried to get comfortable—as comfortable as one can be in a hospital bed with a catheter and a numbed lower half can be—and laid my head back to try to sleep.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I felt the most incredible, awkward and strange feeling I have ever felt. Baby A decided he didn’t want to wait any longer and I had the urge to push. I was all alone in the room and it really startled me. I pushed the nurses’ button on the hospital bed a dozen times. She finally rushed in and I told her that I felt like I had to push. She looked a little confused and checked me. She looked as surprised as I was when she said the babies were on their way—NOW. In a whirlwind I grabbed my phone and was frantically trying to call my husband. Of course he wasn’t picking up and didn’t get reception in the cafeteria. An entire team of people started unhooking my bed and began wheeling me into an OR. The whole time, I was trying to text my mom and husband to tell them. I remember telling the nurses wheeling me down the hall, “I can’t push without my husband, but I don’t think I can wait, where the $#@& is my husband?!”

They wheeled me into a bright operating room where about twenty people surrounded the parameter of the room. Six nurses per baby were waiting, plus an anesthesiologist, students, interns, and a midwife and whoever else was there. The babies were definitely going to have an audience. I felt like I couldn’t hold on any longer and yelled one more time if anyone knew where my husband was when he finally ran into the room.

My doctor had to turn around on the road to come back and entered the OR shortly after my husband did. It was show time.

For about 45 minutes I pushed, but it seemed a lot shorter than that. All I remember were the faint sounds of people talking to me, but my vision narrowed and it was just God and me in the room. I was peaceful and calm. I had a job to do and God was helping me do it. When I heard Baby A start crying, it was the best sound I’d ever heard, but I didn’t get to see him because my job was not over! Three minutes after his brother, Baby B followed.

While they were getting cleaned up and the intern was “practicing” her stitching skills on me (ouch!) I eagerly waited to see my boys. I was the last one in the room to see them, but once they were put in my arms, everyone else disappeared. Looking at their perfect faces and meeting two people I don’t know how I lived without, I saw God’s handiwork, the two gifts He had given us. He had taken care of everything for me and He never left my side AND He answered my prayers when I prayed for an easy delivery. Six hours total, I’d say that’s a speedy delivery and I’m forever grateful.

I love your everything

From your head down to your knees

From your baby toes to your baby nose

I love your everything


I love you in the morning

And I love you still at noon

I love you under the orange sunset

And I love you under the moon


I love your everything

From your head down to your knees

From you baby toes to your baby nose

I love your everything


God gave me two of you

And I said, ‘Lord, what should I do?”

But the moment that I saw your face

I knew my God-given place


-Nicole Hastings


Birth Un-plan January 20, 2012

Filed under: Enter into Hugedom — dbltheblessingsmama @ 8:52 pm
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Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight.

-Isaiah 5:21

I chuckle when I hear of expectant moms scrutinizing over every detail of their birth plan. Birth plan? That’s just something someone made up to help a woman feel like she’s in control of a situation that she really has little control in, right (I mean physically, not the choice to use an epidural or mid-wife, etc.)?

I only laugh, because I was one of those expectant moms, and really, we do have nine months to imagine how our labor and delivery will go. Here’s how I imagined it:

Before we found out about the twins and after our hellish first appointment with Dr. Crazy, I decided that I wanted to go to the Mountain Midwifery Center with a natural birth plan; no drugs, no doctors, just midwives and a birthing pool. I got a lot of flack for having this plan from people. I’d get laughed at, or a sympathetic “if only you knew what you were getting into” look. Some treated me like I wanted to give birth in a cave or something and tried to convince me I was putting myself and my baby (ies) in danger for not wanting to have them in a hospital. Others would just laugh and say, “You’ll change your mind when those contractions start!” How I wanted my child (children) to enter this world was our choice and our journey alone. It’s a shame there are those who—intentionally or unintentionally—put fear in other’s hearts. As long as it doesn’t put mother or baby in danger, it’s an individual choice and experience.

The truth? There IS a lot to think and worry about with pregnancy and even more so if you’re a high-risk momma, but it takes so much energy to make babies, why spend that energy worrying about something that may or may not happen? That’s why I skipped every chapter in the books that covered things that could go wrong; I just didn’t need that chatter in my head. Some may think that’s a naïve or ignorant way of going about it, but I didn’t see it that way.

Anyway, the Midwifery Center was great, but when I started to gain all the weight I was supposed to gain for the duration of my pregnancy in the first five months, one of the midwives gently suggested I “cut back on the bread and carbs at night…” Really??? My morning sickness was so awful I was living off of saltines, ginger ale and oranges!

So when my husband and I went to get the anatomy ultrasound at six months and the ultrasound tech casually pointed out, “Baby A” and “Baby B” to say we were surprised is an understatement. After we picked our jaws up from the floor, I knew nothing resembling my initial birth plan was about to take place; after all, the Midwifery Center wouldn’t even deliver twins so they could no longer see me. It was as if God said, “Hey, sit back, relax and enjoy the ride, I’ve got it from here.” And it was all we could do to just let Him.


Big, fat bird on a tiny, tiny branch December 23, 2011

Let us be like a bird for a moment perched

On a frail branch when he sings;

Though he feels it bend, yet he sings his song,

Knowing that he has wings.

                                                  -Victor Hugo


When I was around seven months pregnant, it seemed my own body had it out for me. Carrying  and growing two tiny humans around was a feat in itself, but then I had battled a horrible bout of the flu that lasted a month (pregnant mommas: Get your flu shots!!) which, in the end, left me on bed rest with high blood pressure and glucose, and a couple broken ribs from coughing so violently. A pregnant woman nesting is an event in itself; a nesting pregnant woman on bed rest is chaos. God bless my husband and all the other husbands out there who’ve experienced this.


One day lying in bed, barely being able to hold onto my last bit of dignity having to have my husband make a day’s worth of food for me before he left for work and literally crawling on the floor to get to the bathroom because moving any part of my upper body was excruciating, I remember literally crying out in tears:


“Why is this happening? I just want to be healthy and these things keep happening. There’s too much to do, too much to clean, too much laundry to fold and baby clothes to put away, and not enough time before the babies come. This isn’t fair!”


Of course, God usually has His own way of answering our cries and usually not the way we want Him to, but being on bed rest was actually one of the best things that could have happened to me. With not much I could do,I had to force myself to be quiet and rest for the health and safety of my babies and myself. I learned (just barely) to turn a blind eye to the dust-bunnies building up on the floor and the pile of laundry that showed no sign of dwindling. I had to learn to be OK in the present moment. It gave me a lot of time with my babies, playing them music, talking to them and watching them kick and roll around (one of the neatest things was my belly was stretched tight like a drum, so I could see Baby B’s back going up and down in rhythm with his breathing!)


But most importantly, it gave me a lot of quiet time with God. To instill my trust in Him and to trust my babies’ lives with Him! These quiet moments helped to prepare me a little for motherhood. As I know now, laundry and dust-bunnies are the least of my concerns with two nine-month-old boys crawling around (though it still strikes a nerve once in a while!)


So there I was, referring back to Mr. Hugo’s eloquent poem about trust, not a frail little song bird, but a 250-pound-pregnant woman sitting on a branch that constantly felt like it was going to snap at any moment.


I’ve heard it said time and time again: God doesn’t give you any more than you can handle. While I believe this to be true, I prayed—or rather  plead—to God:


“OK God, I’ve handled what you’ve given me in this pregnancy and thank you for two healthy baby boys. I trust you to carry me through the end on this tiny branch I’m on, so my labor and delivery better be quick and easy.”


I kept my end of the bargain by trusting Him, and God? Well, he always keeps His…


He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

                                                                                       -Isaiah 40:29-31 (NIV)


Sticks and stones… November 9, 2011

Filed under: Enter into Hugedom — dbltheblessingsmama @ 10:32 pm
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No one ever tells you that when you become pregnant, not only does your entire body as you know it morph into something you don’t recognize, but your business suddenly becomes everyone else’s. You are subject to strange and rude comments, and tons of unsolicited advice (really? I’m not going to get any sleep? I thought having newborn twins would be like a vacation on a beach…Really, labor’s going to hurt? I thought it’d be like a nice relaxing massage…)  At times, these social blunders were far more annoying than heart burn, morning sickness and peeing every thirty minutes because pregnancy is a truly vulnerable time in your life.

Vulnerable because you have no control of your ever-expanding body, no control of stretch-marks (unless you’re one of the lucky ones!) or the uncontrollable crying at toilet paper commercials. Vulnerable because not only do you have people talking about how much weight you’ve gained or haven’t gained, if you’re going to breastfeed or have a vaginal birth, you’ve got doctors and nurses constantly “all up in your business”– always talking about your cervix while you’re spread-eagle on the examining table every couple of weeks—in my case every week!

Throughout my pregnancy, the bigger I got, the dumber the comments were. I can’t tell you how many strangers I asked if I did drugs to get pregnant with twins, if my husband and I were trying to have twins (How does one try to have twins? Is it any different from getting pregnant with one baby? Is there some magical potion I don’t know about?) Are the twins natural? (As opposed to unnatural robot babies??) I was asked if we used artificial insemination (huh??) or if we got pregnant just because our friends recently had a baby.

I couldn’t walk through a public place without,  “You must be due any day now right?” (Even though I had three more months to go!) Or “Twins? Are you scared?” Or “Oh my God, I don’t know what I’d do with twins.”  Or “My brother’s wife’s uncle’s brother has twins.”

The saddest thing I heard was something along the lines of “You have no idea what you’re getting into…” or “Oh dear, God Bless you…” as if my having twins was like I was entering into some dark and scary place never to return.

I know people are generally just curious and don’t mean any harm by their prodding questions, but it’s as if I had a sign hovering over my head saying, “Please talk to me about every part of my body and my sex life, and please, please tell me how I’m going to feel about my unborn children.” I’m not Tweeting about it; I’m not updating my Facebook status about it…I’m just trying to buy my Tums and ice cream in peace!

I know I sound bitter, but it makes me sad that I can count on one hand the times people were just nice and said something positive and encouraging. Pregnancy is unique to each woman and is a special time, but it can be a lonely time as well because it’s your body that’s going through it—not your husband’s, your mom’s or your best friend’s and certainly not the old man’s in the checkout line!

With that said, however, there was one moment that stands out to me more than the jumble of more than a dozen dumb moments, and I treasure it.

I was a month away from my due date and I was feeling sprightly enough to go on a date with my hubby to see a Beatles cover-band. It was a dim atmosphere and the kinda crowd not too interested in my gestational history, and I was thankful! We were having a great time and I even felt well enough to dance to a couple songs…well, not sure you’d call it dancing it was more of a graceful teetering and tottering. I was feeling a bit dorky and self-conscious “dancing” among women in tight skirts and high heels in my maternity stretch pants (the only thing that would fit at that point) and my swollen feet stuffed into some ballerina flats (which my husband had to put on for me). Then a woman brushed by me and yelled over the music: “You’re gorgeous!” Everything disappeared and it was just my husband, my little double bundle and me dancing away the night. All the self-consciousness melted away and I could see that we were about to become an instant family of four and no rude, insensitive or un-thoughtful comment could take that joy and excitement away. I was gorgeous and proud to be carrying two healthy baby boys and that comment, I believe, was a nudge from God not to let anyone break my spirit.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

                                                                                                                             Philippians 4:8


Good Medicine October 30, 2011

Filed under: Enter into Hugedom — dbltheblessingsmama @ 11:29 pm
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A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

                                                                                          Proverbs 17:22

When I found out I was pregnant, it didn’t seem like it would really hit me until I saw the little guy/gal. My husband’s and my first time seeing him/her was strange and beautiful all at the same time—emphasis on ‘strange.’

I won’t name the exact office, but perhaps if some of you ladies ever frequented an OB/Gyn office in East Denver  in Glendale, you may have a similar experience (although I seriously hope not.)

As two expecting newbies, my husband and I were ecstatic to go to our first appointment. We’re usually fashionably late to most occasions, but on this day we were 15 minutes early. I’m not sure why I chose this specific office to start our new little adventure at, but it was a ‘point-and-pick’ place—a choice I would soon realize should have been a little more researched.

The nurse brought us back to the OB’s office and sat us down. In walks the doctor with her student intern. She sits down with my paperwork I so diligently and carefully filled out, and instead of looking at it first, folds her hands on her desk, looks up at us and asks:

“So, you’re pregnant. This isn’t one of those one-night-stand kind of things is it?”

I wasn’t really sure if she was serious or seriously trying to be funny. I replied, “Um, we’re married…” holding up my left hand motioning to my ring finger.

And the ‘conversation’ continued as follows:

Doctor: “So you’re excited about this?”

Us: “Yes, yes we are.”

Doctor: “Well then let’s see, you’re not Black or Asian…are you Jews? Muslim? Jehovah’s witnesses. Are you opposed to blood transfusions?”

Us (looking at each other): “Uh, no…”

Doctor: “Do you have any questions for me?”

Me (with my typed out list of vitamins and supplements I’ve been taking): “I’ve been taking Glucosamine for back pain and fish-oil for joint pain. I take Juice Plus in addition to my Prenatal vitamins… are these OK for the baby.”

Doctor: “No, no, no.”

Me: “OK, well, I guess I’ll just take Flaxseed oil for my back pain and there’s Omega3’s in it so that should be good, right?” (Did I mention before that I was going back to school for a Human Dietetics degree?)

Doctor: “Look, you’re obviously one of those people who just like to take things. None of these things are approved to take while you’re pregnant, but these are…” (Handing me a list of over-the-counter drugs.)

Me: “But Flaxseed is just a grain—a food— that people have been eating for centuries….”

Doctor (ignoring me): “Well OK, so we’ll schedule chromosome test for next time—you know to see if the baby has Down Syndrome or something.”

Me: “No, I don’t think we’ll be doing that test.”

Doctor: “Huh? Well maybe just think about it…I’ll put you down for it for your 16-week appointment.”

Me: “No, that won’t be necessary. We don’t want the test.”

Doctor (puzzled): “Well, don’t you want to know if there’s something wrong with it so you could get rid of it early on?”

Really, did she just say that? I stopped listening at that point and have no idea what else she said.  Of course hindsight is 20/20 and what my husband and I should have done to put a stop to this terribly poor and a disturbing bedside manner would have been to walk out. BUT we had waited two long weeks to finally come in and see our baby and get checked out, and I think both of us just wanted to get to the point where we could get an ultrasound and get out of there.

So the appointment continued as the doctor led us into the examining room and I subjected myself to her cold and shaky hands as my poor husband sat in the corner with a magazine (the least they could have done was warn us that what they meant by “exam” would be a complete pelvic exam and physical, and in that case, I would have asked dear hubby to leave the room.)

Exposed to the entire room, the doctor chatted away and at one point asked my husband if he’d like to come and see my cervix (!) The poor guy politely declined and sunk into the chair hiding behind the magazine. I think both of us were thinking at that point, “Get us the hell out of here!”

Finally, it was time to get our ultrasound! We stared at the screen as the doctor poked and prodded around to try to find our little baby. Finally she landed on a little blob in the middle of the screen with a flickering of light and dark.

Seeing the flicker of that little tiny heartbeat made the insane appointment disappear. I could feel the warmth swell in my heart and a big smile spread across my face; not even a quacky doctor could steal the joy of this moment for my husband and I.

“There it is,” she said. “Everything looks good.”

I’m not too sure what prompted me to ask this next question, but I asked as a serious inquiry and not as a joke: “Are there two?”

Without checking or doing a double-take, she promptly said, “Oh no, definitely just one.”

We walked out of the office overwhelmed with excitement and, albeit, a little bit perplexed as to what just happened. Needless to say, right when I got home I researched new OB/Gyns.

I think this year, I will send the crazy doctor a Christmas card of our TWO babies with this phrase: “Definitely just one.”

**Just some words of wisdom to any expecting moms out there: Don’t ever let someone convince you to settle when it comes to the care of you and your baby. It’s OK to change doctors as many times as you like if you’re not comfortable with them or their practice and it’s OK to stand up for yourself. Afterall, if it weren’t for pregnant moms, they’d be out of business!