Blessed

A year ago last Wednesday, I left Richard in Dakar and was on an emergency flight home to Portland Maine.

Little did I know, I would be checking in to a hospital where I would lay flat for 3 months.

At just 22 weeks pregnant, my pregnancy was in serious danger as I was in pre-term labor and had almost no cervix left. 22 weeks is just over half the length of a pregnancy... and not even considered to be 'viable'. That meant for 2 weeks, I layed flat and was simply monitored without medical intervention; doctors were not able to put me on any medications until I hit the 24 week mark (viability).

Checking in to a hospital this early during a pregnancy was traumatizing as most on the floor were in the latter weeks of their pregnancy. I, however, was just starting to 'show' as I spent 18 weeks engulfed in severe morning sickness. The physical size comparison of our bellies made me realize how long of a journey I had to go. It was time to fight.

3 times during my 3 month stay, I was prepped to deliver the babies quite early. Once at 26 weeks, 28 weeks, and 32 weeks. Ultimately, Laird and Dylan hung on until 34 weeks (to the day). My water broke a few hours before the stroke of midnight...which officially marked week 34.

To be honest, I don't know how I survived the 3 months of stillness. Some friends and family suggested reading books, knitting, learning french, crosswords, etc... as it would make sense to catch up on these great hobbies that you never have time for in 'normal life'.

However, once you are confined to a hospital bed (a scary environment in itself) so early in a pregnancy, you are completely unable to do anything... but pray, and worry, and pray, and worry, and pray, and worry, and pray. Concentration on anything longer than 2 minutes is nonexistent as your mind will always find it's way back to worrying. Several times, I opened books to read...and after a sentence a two, no matter how gripping, my thoughts wandered back to my present situation. Thank goodness for mind-numbing television.

This certainly was the biggest test of my life. And how ironic it was to lay flat and still, but have a mind that was doing somersaults and racing 200 mph in complete fear.

My routine... Wake up at 6 am when doctors come in to examine me and cross off a day in red crayon off my calendar. Then, I would spend most of the morning staring at this calendar...looking at my x's...counting, adding.... wondering, and praying for hours. Absolute mental torture.

I cannot explain to you the connection I had with some of my nursing staff. They saw and heard it all... every mood, every tear, they were there for every good day and every bad one. They were my caretakers, they were my counselors, and they were my friends. They comforted me during the darkest of times...they listened patiently and treated me as if I were their only patient on the floor. They took care of my body, mind, and spirit. I had their schedules memorized and would even request my favorites days in advance. They gave me countless pep talks... but most of all...they gave me hope. My daily mantra 'I can do this' was written on my wall in giant letters.

My room was flooded with mail, incredible bouquets of flowers from loved ones, care packages cards and letters, and pictures... The support from friends and family was astonishing. Looking at the walls of my decorated room, made me realize how loved and supported I was. After just a few weeks time, my room looked as though I had been living at the hospital for years. During Christmas, I was lucky enough to have a tree and some twinkle lights too! (but don't tell hospital security that!)

Having your soul mate 1500 miles away during most of this time was extremely difficult. However I was blessed with such loving support from friends and family. Phone calls, emails, and visitors were my saving grace (besides for the mindless soap operas that kept my brain from thinking too hard). Friends that I had not heard from in years contacted me with loving emails and well wishes.

There were family members that made it in almost EVERY DAY. I don't know how you did it...but you did. I am forever grateful. Life gets busy, errands need to be run, appointments happen, work runs late, snowstorms and weather, sickness, etc... But there are some of you in my life that made it in to see me 'no matter what'. I know how difficult it was for you at times. Your visits kept me going; they kept me strong. Whether it was a 5 minute visit or a 3 hour visit, you helped me from falling apart. I couldn't have survived this journey without you. Thank you for all you did...for your meals you brought in, for the countless loads of laundry you washed, for your help with my Christmas shopping, for the errands I couldn't do from my hospital bed, for wiping down my room everyday with bacterial wipes so that I would not get sick... Thank you, thank you, thank you.

But most of all, thank you for simply being there. Thank you for listening to me on days when all I could do was cry. Thank you for listening to my worries over and over again... Thank you for helping me stay strong.

People always ask, 'How did you do it'?

All I can say, is 'I am blessed with amazing friends and family that were right there with me'.

I am sitting here with my perfect angels... listening to them laugh and giggle with one another. Dylan is holding on tight to Laird's right ear as he is trying to pull himself up, and Laird is giggling uncontrollably like it is the best thing in the world.

I am so blessed.

33...

33 is:

-The age of my husband
-The coming age of a hobbit in the Lord of the Rings
-The international code for dialing France
-The mysterious number printed on Rolling Rock Beer labels
-The name of a Nigerian brand of beer '33'
-The atomic number for arsenic
-The number of miracles performed by Jesus, and his age when crucified
-Patric Roy's jersey number for the Montreal Canadians
-Larry Bird's jersey number for the Celtics
-Kareem Abdul-Jabbar's jersey number for the LA Lakers

It is also the number of week's I've managed to stay pregnant. Two of my doctors came in this morning shocked that I am still pregnant... It's truly amazing to think that I checked in to the hospital at 22 weeks, wondering if I would make it to 23. I am still 3 cm dilated and 100% effaced. It could happen any minute.

Rich and I are in waiting... We are in hosptial room lockdown... Wondering when our miracle boys will join us.

I am enjoying every kick and every movement of these two boys, knowing that it is only a matter of time...

Adventures as Womb Mates

Four times a day, the nurses put monitors on Kelly’s belly to measure her contractions along with the heart rates and movements of the twins. The monitoring is meant to alert hospital staff to signs of impending labour, and to flag any signs of distress among the babies. But it also provides Kelly and me a window into what I imagine to be a great friendship, full of adventures, developing between the boys in the womb.

Last night during monitoring, we saw the twins’ heart rates start to race – first one topped 170 beats per minute, then the other. The monitors were picking up lots of movement, kicking, swiping, stretching. The monitors themselves – plastic discs about twice the size of a silver dollar strapped to Kelly’s belly – were moving up and down with the kicks as if the boys trying to shove them off.

“Those boys are happy in there!” said the nurse.

Perhaps the boys were travelling together on a trip to the moon, leaping against the near-zero gravity in huge arcs through space, defending themselves against lovable moon creatures. Or maybe they were dancing together to an amazing tune that only exists in their world, to the rhythm of Kelly’s heart. Or perhaps they were playing a game of neonatal patty-cakes that was accelerating to crescendo – we’ve seen ultrasound images of them, head to head, hands touching eachother.

A few minutes later, they settled down a bit. One of them started hiccupping. The other apparently took a nap.

I hope they can remember their adventures as “womb-mates”. I’d love to hear about them. What does a baby who’s never seen the world dream about? What does a twin think of his brother before they’re born?

Whatever the answers, Kelly and I are getting the impression they’re exploits, squashed together over the past 31 weeks, have already laid the foundation of a lifelong love.

Waiting, Waiting, and more Waiting

Well, it's been three days since I have been readmitted to the hospital...three days since Richard rushed back from Africa. Despite being quite uncomfortable physically, I am grateful that we have kept these babies inside for three more days. The doctors have told us that each day we stay pregnant is equivalent to two less days in the NICU...

For the last 2 months, I have been in the 'nesting' phase of the pregnancy. I want to clean, but have nothing to clean. I want to set up the babies room, or set up our house in Africa, however all of our belongings are in a cargo ship crossing the ocean. I want to primp and pamper this pregnant body that has gained 35 lbs...but need to lie flat. I want to organize...something...I don't know...

To cure this nesting issue, I have resorted to knitting. And now that I am back in the hospital, I am in a panic trying to finish all of my projects.

I stumbled across a pattern on ravelry that I absolutely adore, although I have not been able to 'felt' the project yet. So far, I am working on my third pair of these adorable slippers.



The pattern is called French Press Felted Slippers by Melynda Bernardi and is available for PDF download on Ravelry.com or Etsy.com. The pattern is simple, easy to follow, and fast to make. The needles are size 15, which are quite large, and I used the Patons Classic Wool yarn which is about 5$ skein. For shoe size 9, it takes about 1 1/2 skeins, so you will have some leftover.

Here are some images below from ravelry knitters:

Who's in charge? by Rich

The twins are small, but they’re definitely pulling the strings around here.

On Tuesday, they decided to stir up some trouble by triggering some strong and regular contractions in Kelly’s belly.

On their cue, Kelly was readmitted to the hospital – the same room in which she’s laid flat in in for most of the fall – and I jumped back on a plane from Senegal after just 36 hours on the ground since returning from Christmas vacation in Maine.

When I got to the airport in Portland, my Mom and much of my family were waiting for me, thrilled I’d made it in time for the birth and excited as can be to meet the new ones – certain to come within hours! We drove in a convoy to the hospital, weaving in and out of traffic, fueled by adrenaline.

When I got there, I found my sweet wife getting checked out by nurses. She was having contractions every six minutes and had signed a consent form for a c-section that could happen at any minute. The twins, both over four pounds despite their early gestational age, were gearing up to join the planet earth.

But this adventure has been full of baby-driven U-turns, and so there was another. Within a half hour of my arrival, the contractions stopped and things stabilized. Kelly and I sent the family home and spent the rest of Wednesday watching soap operas and movie videos, and eating Thai food.

So far, on this wintry New Year’s eve day, things appear to be staying quiet.

Will the babies come today? Tomorrow? Next week? In two weeks? Its unclear. A big storm is coming – and some people say the drop in barometric pressure will trigger it for sure. Also, it is a full moon – and amazing things happen during the full moon. But the truth is, no one can know for sure.

The people in charge haven’t arrived yet.

Blessed

Getting discharged from the hospital was bittersweet. It took a few days to relax at my mother in laws house, as anxiety of not having constant medical care at my bedside alarmed me. But after a few days I began to relax with Richard at my side and beloved family at Christmas. I also realized that bed rest at home is far easier emotionally; eight weeks in the same hospital room really can make you go a bit stir crazy. My 're-entry' to the real world after leaving the hospital was quite bizarre...seeing people walking around, driving past shops, and seeing the daily routines of normal life outside that of an 8x8 hospital room. It certainly reminded me of our week long canoe camping trips where we were in complete isolation with wilderness and no human contact...the reentry can take some adjusting.

Bed rest at home did not last long. Tuesday I was readmitted to the hospital at 3cm dilated and 100% effaced. What a pregnancy this has been! I am 32 weeks and 1 day, and my mom reminded me of a blog entry I posted when I had just hit 23 weeks. I wrote that I would be blessed if I could make it to 32 weeks.

Well, I am certainly blessed.

8 Weeks and 2 days (But who is counting?)

Me! I'm counting! I have counted every day and every week since I have arrived at Maine Med. In fact, the first thing I do when I wake up is get out my red crayon and cross off a day on my calendar.

On Friday or Saturday, I will be discharged from the hospital. Some of you may be thinking that I must be thrilled and very happy about this. I have to admit, part of of me is excited for the change and part of me is anxious to be leaving my safe zone.

During my early weeks here and even up until now, nurses and doctors have only been steps away from me. They constantly check in with me and monitor my contractions and the babies heart rates. There is so much comfort in knowing that the experts are in charge now, and all I had to do was lay here and listen. I have a call bell in room which at any point in the day or night, I could call for any reason at all...a pain I'm noticing, heightened contractions, shortness of breath, etc.

I am also ambivalent about leaving as I have depended on some incredible nurses to emotionally support me as well. There certainly have been some dark and scary days here, especially when I first checked in. There are some special nurses here that have certainly gone above and beyond the call of duty...giving me pep talks, wiping my tears, giving hugs... What an amazing staff here at MMC.

Leaving is bittersweet. I can't believe we survived this. I'm nervous about the upcoming change... But in my heart I know that my amazing doctors would not release me if they were worried. I have promised to act the same way I have here...strict bed rest with shower/bathroom privileges. (Crazy to say that going to the bathroom is a privilege!!) However, I am allowed one 2 hour treat a week... I can sit for 2 hours at a dinner table, or go to a movie. I have already decided that my first 'treat' this week will be to the salon...

One thing I will certainly miss though are my wheelchair rides with Sweet Liam on my lap and Lindy pushing us. His excitement about those rides were priceless. I wonder if there is a way to accidentally 'borrow' a wheelchair...

Today I am 30 weeks, and my husband is finally arriving from Africa. Life is good.

xo

A Day to Celebrate...

What a wonderful day yesterday was...a day to celebrate the twins! After all this time, especially the last two months here at the hospital, my days have been filled with worry. Today, it was time to finally celebrate the upcoming arrival of these two miracle boys. It was quite emotional to have a day like this...to finally feel excited and not so anxious.

The 'Thing 1 Thing 2' shower was here at the hospital, planned my sister and mom. The details, time, effort, creativity, and thoughtfulness they put into this celebration were incredible. Thing 1 Thing 2 Dr. Seuss decorations everywhere, homemade cookies and cupcakes, games, gift baskets, red and blue decorations, delicious food from Aurora... not to mention they both went shopping to find an outfit that I felt comfortable in.

It was overwhelming to go in to the room, and see my beloved friends and family, a room decorated with love, and excitement on everyones faces about the twins. I couldn't help but to cry as I felt the love and support for these two boys.

I am still reliving every moment of the shower... Thank you, thank you, thank you. I am so grateful.

Thing 1 Thing 2 Red Velvet Cupcakes with handmade Tindy decorations.

I had never seen this game before and it was quite hilarious to watch. Its called 'Guess the Poop'...my sister had 5 diapers in which she melted 5 different candy bars in. Friends and family had to 'sniff' and 'taste' the diaper 'poop' and guess the candy bar. I have not laughed so hard in a long long time...watching friends and family sniffing and tasting these diaper samples. The winner.....Cathi Landry! Well done!

And surfboard homemade cookies by Mumma.

Me and my guy. And yes, something happened to my belly this week...It really grew.

Today is 29 weeks and 5 days...

Wow.

29 weeks!

And today I hit 29... The proof is in the photo that Ange took!

I never thought I would make it this far. The boys weigh 3lbs now, and usually during any given minute of the day, one of them is awake and kicking up a storm. Just last night, Baby B knocked the remote control off my stomach. I'm lucky to be so tall, as the boys have a bit more room to wiggle around in...not to mention my own size is not yet in the 'whale' category.

Today is also my 7 week anniversary of laying flat on my back here at the hospital. I still can't believe so much time has passed, or even how I made it through those early weeks. Some days are extremely difficult, some are not so bad....but every day still contains worry and wondering.

It's crazy to think that in a short time (hopefully longer rather than shorter)I will be a mom. My life will be completely different... I can only imagine what it will be like. I can't wait to have these sweet little boys in my arms and healthy.


Lindy, Mom, and Sandra...I don't know what I'd do without your regular visits. Thank you for all you do, your listening, your advice and support, and your laughter.

It's the little things...

And this is what I look forward to everyday...


And some fresh air too...

28! 28! 28! 28!

Today is week 28...the milestone that we were hoping for. I got up at 6 am because I couldn't wait to cross off today on my calendar with my red crayon. The boys now have a 90% chance of survival with a good NICU. I can't believe I made it this far, considering I checked in here to Maine Med over 6 weeks ago with the situation looking grim.

The boys are very healthy. In fact, they both started hiccuping just a day apart from one another. At first I had no idea what the constant rhythm was hitting my ribs, and had to call a nurse to ask what was happening. The next day, Baby A had the hiccups while I was on the monitor. Talk about amazing.

Baby A is breach, butt down. Baby B is transverse near my ribs, and all of their legs and arms meet in the center of my belly. Because of this, they are constantly pushing against one other, kicking one another, fighting for more space.

For 6 weeks, I have been laying down, shower occasionally, and have only walked five feet to the bathroom. Today, my doctors have told me it is time to sit in the wheelchair once a day for a short while to get out of the room for some 'fresh air'. I suppose they are right, despite how nervous it makes me. I wonder if they think I have lost my mind.

The staff here is amazing. In fact, I adore my doctor here and have become quite attached to a few of the nurses. They see my every mood, and help me fight. They are not just a medical staff, but caregivers. They cheer you on during your darkest days, and are there to celebrate during the milestones. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

My sister and Liam are coming in today for the big wheelchair ride. For the first time since my stay here, I hugged sweet Liam on a trip to the bathroom yesterday. That one hug made me so happy. It felt so good. Today I have decided to go to the gift shop and buy myself a treat in celebration of today.

Rich and I are so lucky to have made it this far. Every day is a gift.

30 weeks is the next goal....And even more better...Rich arrives on that day.

What's Two Days, Anwway?

Yesterday I found out that when I checked in to the hospital, my due date had been incorrectly tracked. I lost two days. Now this may not seem like a big deal to some of you, but I know that those of you that have been on strict bed rest can sympathize with what I am feeling.

When I found out I would be 27 weeks today, rather than last Monday, I lost it. I sobbed for about an hour, which I'm sure had nothing to do with being constantly scared, medicated, overtired, or worried. Two days feels like two years, when you are desperately counting the days to get to at least 28. Every morning I wake up, I sigh relief that I made it through the night, and as soon as possible, I cross off another day on my calendar. Two days felt like defeat.

I pulled myself together with the help of a nurse, who helped me see some sort of clarity. She reminded me that I am doing well, am still pregnant, and even though two days may feel like forever, it's really not in the whole scheme of things.

You know you've been at a hospital too long when you have worn through your hospital ID bracelet, you know all the names of all the nurses, CNA's, custodial staff, and start to make conversation with the cafeteria crew when you call in your meal order. Yes too long, but I am so lucky to be here.

Yes, this has been a very long haul, but I am grateful for each day that I am here and still pregnant.

27 Weeks

Today I am 27 weeks. I have been laying flat for almost 5 weeks now. Some days are very difficult, others are a bit easier to take. Every other day has had some sort of drama regarding contractions, etc.... But, I am a very lucky woman. I am still here, and still pregnant. Every day increases the survival rate of these two boys. I have to hang in there; I have no choice.

28 weeks is the next goal, then 30, then 32. I can do this. I can do this.

Thank you dear friends for all of your well wishes, thoughts, and prayers. I love you all so much. Your encouragement gets me through each day.

xo

3 Weeks

Today is my 3 week anniversary of being at Maine Med.

For 3 weeks, I have worried myself sick, watched endless hours of soap operas, been medicated to the point of seeing double, and have fought the boredom battle.

I have relied on my friends and family, even strangers, with their words of encouragement, home cooked meals, and positive spirit.

Without getting in to too much detail, I would like to share with you that my condition has been stable for 2 weeks now. The boys are measuring perfectly, and kicking up a storm. I am 25 weeks, which is quite early....but the first goal is to make it 28, then 32.

Because I am have been stable for 2 weeks now, I am starting to feel more positive and feel that the boys will make it. Despite the torture of bed rest, I will do this as long as possible. I admire the strength of any mother that has been put on long term bed rest, especially hospital bed rest. I suppose it is strength of being a mother that gets us through...

Thank you to all of you that have reached out. Your support means the world to us. I promise to return phone calls and emails once I am feeling a bit better.

xo

"Wow, really?"

"Only God knows what tomorrow will bring."

I'd seen that on a sign a few days earlier in a Dakar police station, but now, back in Maine, I was living its message. I was doing something I never thought I'd do... Something I would have bet hundreds of dollars I would never do.

I was driving to Walmart to buy the entire catalogue of episodes ever aired by Sex in the City. It was only when I got back to Kelly's hospital room that I realized I'd just effortlessly shattered two of my biggest hangups: going to Walmart for anything, and trafficking in terrible melodramatic sitcoms.

"Wow, really?" was Kelly's reaction when I delivered the gift I knew would help her through the next month or two of laying flat."You went to Walmart and bought Sex in the City? All by yourself?"

"Yes," I beamed.

It's amazing what love can do.

Security Please

Despite my husband appearing to be 'mellow' and 'easy going', I've learned that he apparently likes to arrive in a room with a 'bang'!

After his long sleepless flight from Dakar, through JFK, and up to Portland, he arrived at the hospital looking as happy and wonderful as ever. However, after touching base with doctors and family, two things were on his mind: Pad Thai Takeout from Vientiane Market, and Geary's Hampshire Ale.

Rich stepped out to get take out, and also, the seasonal micro brew he had had been craving. He returned to the hospital, equipped with Pad Thai, dumplings, Vitamin C water, and of course, the seasonal ale. Immediately security instructed him to get rid of the beer, which he sadly returned to the trunk of the car for another time. You would think the saga would be over...

After he arrived to the room, the man at the security desk had called and alerted the uniformed secrity officer about the situation. Within minutes, he appeared in our room looking to confiscate any other alcohol, fully equipped with hand cuffs and gun.

I had never been so embarrassed. The nurse was in the room, my belly strapped to monitors, and my dear husband, trying to sort out this 'high school' alcohol raid.

In my drug induced state, I looked at the officer, belly and monitors exposed, and said, 'Listen, he just got off a plane from Africa. All he wants is to enjoy his pad thai with a beer. Is that too much to ask considering these circumstances?'

The officer left, but throughout the evening, word has spread among the floor that our room was searched for alcohol.

Is this what it's like to be a Valdmanis?

Back in the US of A

Richie is arriving today! Despite the unsettling health update here 2 days ago, Richie's upcoming arrival has definitely lifted my spirits. He will be here for almost a week, where he will then be flown to Kenya for a week long conference, then back to Senegal.

Everything will be so much easier to take and digest with him here, rather than being oceans away. I am so happy. Every day is a blessing that these boys are still with us. Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers.

PS. Happy Halloween. Please send along pics of your costumes... Would love to see you or your little ones in the festive spirit. The worlds cutest lion with the most gentle rooaaaar is making an appearance today at the prenatal center at maine med. Any guesses who it is? And no, it is not Richard.

One Week

Today is my one week anniversary of hospital bed rest.

The most difficult part is the mental challenge. Not knowing the future, and trying to stay hopeful is the most difficult and stressful part. I have not taken any wheel chair rides, and shower only once every few days.

The physical struggles are mostly muscular at this point. (I won't get into the gastrointestinal issues of lying horizontal 24 hours a day!) My muscles are softening, and my lower back aches the hours away. During the last two days, I have spent almost 20 minutes trying to rid my hair of knots that have accumulated in the back of my head. Maybe a few dread locks wouldn't be so bad!

A website on bed rest suggested that you should create a schedule for yourself while on bed rest to prevent counting ceiling tiles to pass the time. The teacher in me jumped right on board with this advice. I'm still trying to work this out but it may go something like this:

6-8 am- Wake, breathe, and await Doctors and Nurses
8 am - Order breakfast
8-9 am Eat and Internet
9-10 Knit
10-11 Osteopathic Doctor visit
11-12 ?
12-3 Lunch and Soaps
3-5 This is usually Lindy and Liam time :)
5-8 This is usually Mom, Sandra, and Ange time
8-9 Junk TV
9 -10 Bed

I have never watched so much junk TV in my life. A family member who survived 3 months of bed rest told me that junk TV was her only way to pass time and not 'think' too much. I totally agree. Please dear friends and family, do not worry about my brain going to mush... I still cannot relax enough to read.

I am learning how to type on my side and knit with arms in the air. I still have not mastered drinking laying down, but hopefully will figure that out soon. I have allowed myself to eat sitting up, but still have managed to slop food all over myself.

I have a new respect for anyone who has ever survived a period of bed rest. It is not fun or relaxing in any way. It is scary, emotional, and one of the biggest mental challenges I have ever been through.

My friends and family...I don't know what I would do without you. Your positive spirit, encouragement, advice, and help has meant the world to me. Thank you.

Today is 1 week down. I am 23 weeks. If I could make it to 28, we will be in the safe zone. If I could make it to 32 I would be blessed, and if I could make it to 35 I would be one of the luckiest mommas in the world.

I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it.

One Day at a Time

I have been here for four mornings thus far, and seem to have already found myself in a bit of a routine.

I usually wake around 5-6 (still on teacher schedule I think), get my vitals taken, and open the window shade to await the rising sun. I sit here in silence and 'just be'. This is time I spend ridding myself of the nightmares or worst case scenarios. I somehow get myself back on track, and the tears take a vacation for the day.

By the time the sun rises over Hadlock field and it's multicolor trees, I am feeling good. Breakfast is ordered, the doctors arrive with their encouragement, and then I anxiously await the visitors of the day. One of the nurses, Cathy, found me a laptop to use that belongs to the floor that has made a HUGE difference. I have 'accidentally' ordered yarn, pattern books, health and beauty aids that are nowhere to be found in Africa, French tapes, etc. I have even been getting caught up on prime time TV....Grey's Anatomy, House, and today I will tackle the Office.

I am allowed to shower once a day and also can take a wheel chair ride. I'm not comfortable with either just yet, so visitors beware of the new greasy hair style I am sporting.

There are times in the day that are difficult. The clock stops at times, and I wonder how I am going to do this for a few months. I am surrounded with knitting, books, magazines, and all sorts of goodies. But, the mental battle of fighting worry and stress takes away from any desire to pursue a hobby or relax.

Most of the time, I repeat my mantra in my head, 'I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.'

And to be honest, I really don't have a choice. These boys need to be nurtured just a few months longer, and I know 'I can do this'. For them, I can do this.