My Miracle Boys

Let me start out by saying I'm not an overly religious person, but my boys are complete miracles. There's no other way for me to explain how they survived everything they went through after birth so I'm sticking to it!

I'm sure a lot of you know the story of my boys but I wanted to share it for anyone that hasn't, may be going through something similar, and anyone who has basically heard the short version and doesn't actually know the incredible story behind their birth/NICU stay.

Lets go back about 11 years ago... Girl meets boy at work. Girl hates boy for 1½ years until she actually gets to know him. Girl gives boy her phone number and the rest is history. You know, typical love story! We got engaged a little over a year after we starting dating and started planning the wedding. We got a surprise after our engagement and found out I was pregnant... with twins. I had previous miscarriage so I was afraid that there would be complications but we were excited. After the initial shock wore off (I laughed at the sonogram tech when she told me there were two) we bumped up the wedding so I wasn't a miserable bride and then anxiously awaited their arrival. This turned out to be the BEST decision we could have made. We originally planned on getting married the exact weekend we had the boys. About 4-5 months into the pregnancy I started having pain and it just continued to get worse and worse. I kept going back to the drs and I was told the same thing every time. "You're a first time mother, this is just normal pains.", "You'll be fine.", and "Try a belly band or a pregnancy pillow. Don't worry, it's normal.".

Nothing was normal, I wouldn't be fine and I wasn't "just a first time mom". Women know their bodies. We know when something isn't right and when something needs to be done. Something wasn't right and nothing was being done. I was 23½ weeks pregnant and scared out of my mind.

I went to the ER which was not the hospital I was to deliver at. This one was closer to home and I just wanted to get there asap. It was 2 days before my boys were born and they told me that I had been retaining a lot of fluid and it should have been checked on. I was told to call my doctor when they opened and see them. I told them I had an appointment in 2 days for a sonogram and they told me thats fine, just make sure I call my doctor and let them know but make sure I keep the appointment. I did everything I was told and went back home. I'm pretty sure my doctors office just thought I was making things up and overreacting to my situation because I had been there 3 different times in the last week. The pain was even worse over the next two days to the point where I could barely get out of bed to walk to the bathroom without crying and I definitely couldn't get up and go to work. I stayed in bed the entire time except to take a bath and go to the bathroom.

Two days later at around 4:00am, after not sleeping except for about 15 minute intervals I woke up to a small wet spot on the sheet. I thought I had peed a little, you know how they say you can't hold it after a while. Well I was as big as a house and figured it was about that time in the pregnancy. I had no idea I was leaking fluid and my water would break in about an hour and a half. I hopped in the shower and after about 10 minutes of extreme pain decided that it was a good idea to wake up the husband and head to the ER again. I had an appointment that day for an ultrasound but I didn't think I would make it that far. We got to the hospital around 5:30 and the moment they wheeled me into my room my water broke.

I have to say I have a great respect for the doctors and nurses that helped during that entire day... but I still think people underestimate young, first time mothers. No matter what I said I was still told that lovely line of "it's fine". I was having crazy pain (which were contractions and I had no idea), I had this insane urge to push and it felt like I was just going to deliver a baby at any second. I must have pushed the call button a million times and the nurse hated me for it. I had to sit through an ultrasound and get told repeatedly that I needed to stop moving because they couldn't get a picture if i kept moving. I just sat there for what felt like forever and waited. Waited for someone to understand what was ACTUALLY going on. By about 6:30 they finally had all the imagines and information in and when I asked them to check me again because I felt like I was going to deliver right this second they told me I was ready and called the doctor in. At this point I had just hit the 24 week mark. I was prepared by the doctor that the twins would be extremely early and there is no guarantee they would make it. He told me I am at the point where they will resuscitate them if need be and I'm extremely lucky that I made it to that point.

I finally felt a little bit of relief that they finally got their crap together and something was going to happen. Then the doctor told me the neonatal specialist was about 15 minutes away and I had to wait until then to start pushing. At this point I had full legs up in the stirrups, junk out for everyone to see (which by now was almost every nurse/doctor that could be there from labor and delivery and lucky for me it was during change of shift) and screaming because the pain was becoming a little too ridiculous for my liking. I was that crazy lady everyone hears stories about. I apologize to anyone who happened to be in other rooms that morning for having to hear it... but that mess hurt. I hated everyone and watched the clock the entire time. Once the fifteen minutes passed I asked where he was. I wasn't playing around. They told me 5 more minutes.. same thing happened and I asked again. He was finally there I was told. "He's coming up right now.. he's here. We just have to wait for him to get up here. A few more minutes Erica."

Looking back I feel horrible for my husband. I can't imagine how helpless he must have felt. I'm laying there in pain squeezing his hand and screaming. The amount of people all around us was surreal and not knowing anything about what was going to happen to your wife or soon to be born children must have been horrible. All I could focus on was the pain so I didn't have a chance to actually think about it the way he did. He never showed his worry or concern. He was a rock for me when I needed it most and I don't think he knows how much help that actually was.

Finally they told me I could push. Baby A (who we named Brady) came out after two pushes and then what seemed like 10 gallons of fluid came out behind him. Every ounce of pain I had from the last few weeks was gone. It disappeared and I let out this giant sign of relief. At that point I didn't even care that I had to deliver another one. Baby B (Carter) was transverse so they had to actually go in and try to turn him so he could come out naturally. That crap hurt but at that point I was so excited the pressure and pain from all the extra fluid was gone I didn't care anymore. I pushed about 2 more times after they turned him and he was out. I literally have no idea what happened after that. My husband told me they were like tiny little birds that fit in the doctors palm. They weren't crying or moving and they were whisked away before he even had a chance to get a good look at them.

I was told Brady was resuscitated once and brought to the NICU. Carter was resuscitated 2 times and brought to the NICU. We went through the normal after birth things. Signing paperwork, naming the babies, watching the videos and making sure I was told how to take care of myself after I was released. All of that was pretty much a blur. I didn't see my babies and had no idea if I would ever see them alive. I was told the hospital wasn't equipped to handle micro preemies and they were doing their best to make sure they would be stable enough to be air lifted to the regional neonatal center about 45 minutes away. They had only things to deal with "normal" preemies and all the equipment they had was a little too big for them so I should prepare myself when I was finally able to see them that it was going to be a bit shocking. My husband and parents got to see them a little while after I had them. I had to wait until I was stable enough to go up and see them and they were also stable enough for me to see them. So it took a lot longer for me to be able to see them. When I finally got to see them it wasn't for that long but I was able to touch them for a few minutes and just see how incredible they were.. even at that little.

I don't know if it was shock or if I just had some kind of faith that they would make it but I didn't feel worried at that moment. Whatever it was made it easier for me to see them like that. Like I said earlier, I am not a very religious person but that day changed me a little bit. The boys were airlifted one at a time and I was stuck at the hospital until the next day.

Worst. Night. Ever.

I heard other babies and moms taking care of them, celebrating and just the general happiness that goes along with having a new baby. I got text messages and phone calls from people saying congratulations and asking a million questions. I just sat in bed, drank a coffee that I had been fending for the last few months and watched TV while trying to figure out if we would be staying close to the hospital or going back and forth every day to see the boys. Anxiously waiting to hear from the hospital but secretly hoping that I don't because if I heard from them too soon it was most likely going to be something bad. At the end of the night my poor husband curled up in a chair and slept there so he could stay with me. Thankfully they put me in a single room so I wasn't tortured by all the other mothers/babies all night but I did have a nurse from hell. So that made it a lot more fun!
I made sure I did everything I was supposed to and got the hell out of there as quickly as I could. We left there and went straight to the hospital to see the boys.

They were so tiny and thin. They looked fake. I took everything in and learned about the different lights and monitors and met some lovely nurses and doctors. We were lucky enough to have friends and family give us a few weeks in a hotel close to the hospital so we were able to be right there as much as we wanted during visiting hours. There were so many ups and downs and there was no false hope given by the doctors or nurses. At the time I hated it but in the long run when something did happen and I had to make decisions I was better equipped to handle it. I wasn't worried that something horrible was happening... I was prepared because I was almost expecting it. I was still crushed when we would get a call that someone needed a blood transfusion or when one of them wasn't progressing the way they wanted them to but it didn't break me. As time went on the boys got stronger and graduated to different rooms. As the babies get more stable they "graduate" to other rooms. It gave us a little more hope that we would bring them both home every time.

Unfortunately we saw other babies incubators disappear and families mourn around us. It brought us back down to the realization that it wasn't guaranteed and there was still a long road ahead.



Their stay in the NICU was a constant rollercoaster of emotions. One day they were great and the next they were struggling. They'd gain a pound and then lose two. We kept a record of how much they were able to eat and what their stats were every day. After a little over a month had passed and we didn't have the money to stay in a hotel anymore, driving back and forth daily was taking a toll on us and our car and there was nothing we could do except sit around and wait. I reluctantly delayed my maternity leave and went back to work. I hated myself for it and felt guilty that I wasn't there as much as I possibly could. I called every day at lunch to check in on them and every night we didn't go. We tried to get down to see them every other day. What made it worse was we couldn't hold them until they were strong enough and that felt like it took forever to happen.

When we were finally able to hold them it was the most amazing feeling. We were able to do something called kangaroo care. It is where you wear a button down shirt and lay them on your bare chest, every time it would make their stats go up. It's incredible what something so simple can do and ended up being therapeutic for both them and us.

Fast forward to the second room they were in. They were able to experience music therapy with a wonderful woman at the hospital and I fully believe it helped them get better faster. It was a new therapy in the hospital and we were on the local news to bring awareness to the program.


Fast forward again to the third and final room... this is where it started to feel real. They were out of the incubators, their feeding tubes were out and they were on less oxygen. It was the home stretch and I was beyond excited to start to do all the regular things you do with your baby. Hold them, feed them... and finally bring them home!

first time we fed them

When they told us home was coming soon we were beyond thrilled... finally they gave us the word that as long as he passed the car seat test Brady could come home. Carter had to stay in a little longer which broke my heart but at least we were getting there. One was coming home and the other wasn't far behind!

Brady came home two weeks before Christmas and Carter followed him a week later. It was the best Christmas gift we could have gotten. They ended up coming home before their actual due date which was even more exciting.

They stayed on oxygen and monitors for 3 months and had countless doctor appointments every month but it was so worth it to have them home with us.

I was so unbelievably happy when they were finally home but I still had this little bit of guilt in the back of my mind. I've never said this to anyone but I've found that this blog... even though it's probably not read by a single person is therapeutic to me. I've let so much go in the three little posts I have here that it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I have so much stress already, why carry around even more?? So back to my little story/confession... When I was standing in the shower the morning that I had them. I stood there leaning up against the wall crying and I prayed. I don't normally pray but I did that day. I was in so much pain I stood there and said "god... if you're there, please just let this pain go away... let it just stop already". For the longest time I felt so much guilt for asking it to stop and then not 3 hours later I gave birth to my boys. I realize that asking for pain to go away is not asking for me to give birth to premature twins but the fact that I wanted the pain to go away so badly made me a horrible person in my mind. It's basically like I asked to have them right then and there and then I selfishly got what I wanted. I realized later that I tried to do more. I went to the doctor multiple times, I went to the ER twice. I voiced my concerns and opinions... they just weren't heard.

While the last 8 years have been anything but easy I wouldn't trade any of it. They are now healthy, smart, well behaved, loving soon to be 8 year olds. I couldn't have asked for better children and I cannot thank everyone who helped them become the children they are now. From doctors and nurses when they were born, the staff of the NICU and the teachers and coaches they've had over the last 3 years. There is no way they all know the true gratitude I have for them and that is why I continue to support the NICU and hospital that helped keep them alive and I volunteer and help out whenever I can with their school and sports. If I can do something to help or give back in any way there is no way I will pass it up.

I will post a link to the NICU that saved our boys if you'd like to donate but I encourage everyone to donate or volunteer at their local NICU or hospital.

Donate to Maria Fareri Children's Hospital here.

If you have a story you want to share about your pregnancy or babies share it below. I love hearing others stories!!

The School Supplies Debate

"It's never ending!"

I've said these words a thousand times in the last 3 years. I'm not going to lie, I am the first to complain about the growing supply lists I get every year. At my kids school they attach the supply list to the end of your child's report card. It's kind of like a sick joke the teachers play on you. You enjoy that five seconds of bliss where you think to yourself "ahhh... summer break" and then BAM!, a giant list of supplies for next year that you have to try and figure out where you will stash said list for the next few months so you can do all the back to school shopping when the crazy sales start in August.

Let me start out by saying my mother is a TA and I have a good amount of teacher friends. I've heard all the stories. I know what the teachers have to deal with and do on their own and the out of pocket expenses on their end. I respect all the school staff and what they do. It's nothing against them at all... it's just something we all do. If you try and tell me you have NEVER complained about a supply list and you have kids over the age of 6... you're full of it. I have complained to my husband more times than I can count of the lists getting longer and more specific every year. I vow that I will NOT spend more than is necessary this year and they get what they get. They don't NEED expo brand markers and other kids will be bringing is those dollar store crayons that break after one use. Why do I spend the money on Crayola every year when I can do the same thing? How come I have to supply SO many boxes of tissues and wipes? Shouldn't that be something that is supplied through the school?? Why is everything shared now? If I buy the item shouldn't my child be the one using it?

All these things go through my head and I work myself up for a good hour after reading the list. I hang it on our organizer and once it's covered in a few days with new lists, invitations and pictures I forget about it until teacher assignments are mailed home. I pull out the list and again start to feel that little ping of hatred for school supply shopping.

Once I start to read through the requested supplies again and make my shopping list, I see the specific requests of name brand items, certain width dry erase markers, and what seems like a dozen boxes of tissues. I begrudgingly write them all down or a take a pic of the lists and head to the store with the best sales. As I grab a cart and pull out my list/phone I start to rationalize the listed items...

Tissues/Wipes: My children are useless at blowing their nose. They waste tissue after tissue trying to blow their nose but really just blow from their mouth and wipe their nose. Children are foul and wipes are always needed. Fine, I'll buy them. Check.

Thin, black Expo markers: I know the pain of trying to erase a knock off brand marker and it stains the board. I know the frustration when you open a 2 day old dollar store dry erase marker and it's writing like it's been sitting out for 2 hours with the cap off. I know how hard it is to write legibly with the thick markers. I get it... Check. (although this year I did get the thick markers with the "bonus" thin because I checked 3 stores and that's all I could find. Sorry teachers... 3 stores is my limit).

Crayola Crayons: My children have giant man hands. They don't do delicate. If I buy the cheap, waxy crayons that break after one use my child will be the one suffering as well. If I can buy a durable set of crayons for the class to use why WOULDN'T I? That's one less thing they'll have to ask for halfway through the year when all the crayons are broken or thrown away by kids who don't want to clean up. Check.

Ridiculous amounts of sharpened pencils: Have you ever seen a child learning how/just starting to write use a pencil? If you have you know it's necessary to send in as many as you possibly can. Check.

Elmers Glue/Glue Sticks: Just watch a 5/6/7 year old use glue. It's painful. Check.

Large Freezer Ziploc Bags: I honestly don't know what these are used for besides the little book baggies the boys come home with. Some classes don't do that whole thing and so I'm sure there are different uses for every class. I do know that whatever it is used for those things only last so long when they have a half dozen paperback books shoved in them and my children (remember... non delicate man hands) use them every day. Check.

There is not one item on the list that I can actually find a good reason NOT to buy. My kids are 100% worth buying the best I can. These women and men are essentially helping to mold my children into smart, kind, respectful human beings. I am more than happy to do anything I can to help them along the way. I want them to have the best experience they can and if cutting out the frustration of easily breakable crayons, snot filled hands due to tissues that break after one blow and being able to have a million pencils on back up is what it takes, I'm doing it.

The other day I was in Walgreens picking up some things and saw a sale I couldn't pass up. I had already finished all the school shopping and we have enough supplies at home to last until they go off to college. There was no real reason to pick anything up but I couldn't walk away from it. They had so many school supplies on sale I decided to pick up a few things that I thought the teachers might need a little extra of to kind of help them out at the beginning of the year. I walked out with two boxes of crayola crayons, wipes, a bottle of elmers glue, a two pack of erasers, a small pack of expo markers and a $15 dunkin donuts gift card (because they're going to need coffee that first week of school). I walked out spending $19! I essentially got a quarter of their school supply list for $4. How could I NOT do that for the people that gave so much last year to my boys?? (My kids are in special ed classes and their teachers actually moved up with them this year... but I'll explain more about my boys in another post). I also ran to target and bought two shoe box type clear bins for under a dollar to put all the supplies in and let the boys design the teachers names in vinyl to stick on the side. The boys were so excited to be able to make something for their teachers and it helped them be a part of the gift as well. I also made a little box top container from a dollar store mini garbage bin. I'm sure you've seen them before. It's pretty much impossible to find those damn cans so when I found this one randomly thrown in the wrong isle I snatched it up!

You can call me a brown noser or a suck up. I don't mind.

My children aren't getting anything out of this. There is no preferential treatment they will receive, they won't get a higher grade because I brought in an extra set of crayons. They won't get extra recess or lunch because I gave an extra container of wipes. 

I am not getting anything out of this. Their teachers will not give me anything special. I won't be their new best friend and I won't be able to influence anything that happens to my children or their work/grades, nor would I want that. I didn't do it for that. I did it so my kids will have what they need to get the most of their school experience and to give the teachers one less thing to worry about when the craziness begins. 

So yes, I completely and utterly hate back to school shopping and classroom supply lists, but no matter how much I complain and protest I will always get the best I can for my child's classroom. 

Let me know how YOU feel about school supply lists in the comments!

ANOTHER mommy blog??

Yes, deal with it.

I am SO much more than a mom, but it's something I'm really proud of and (if you ask me) I'm doing a pretty damn good job. I may not be the "typical mom" but it works for me and my family. I'm more of a semi organized, slightly twisted, nap loving, super caring, hot mess with a dash of actually having my shit together mom.

Let me start by introducing myself, honestly this will probably be read by like four people (hey mom!) but just in case you don't know me already my name is Erica. I am a mom to 8 year old twin boys and a wife to a super supportive and equally sarcastic husband. Just my type. If you would have said to me 8 years ago I would be the head of the bake sale committee for the PTA and football team mom I would have laughed at you and thrown in a few obscenities for good measure... but here I am!

I'm really excited to start this blog. I know there are endless parenting blogs out there and I'm not going to claim to be one of them. I want this to be more than that. This is basically a spot where I will share my experiences, advice, things I love, some baking fun, and maybe show off a little of my crafty side. I'll also let my mom crazy shine and maybe make you feel a little better about yours. We've all got it, why be ashamed of it?

I spend my days dealing with the big issues in-between my part time job and normal daily shenanigans. You know the ones I'm talking about... drama over iPad usage, not having the right snacks and one child stealing the others outfit they wanted to wear that day. Defusing twin wars since 2009.

More Than Just a Mommy (MTJaM) is my attempt at taking on the daily crazy and sharing all the fun ways I deal with it.