I wish I could create a frequency to wedge in between eyes closed and the torture of possibilities.

Your frailest days humble us with the odds defying strength and humor. Those boys come from good stock, I'm banking on as the optimist flies.

Kate, I am so grateful for the update, even though there is nothing new, medically speaking, to tell. And hey, the boys look awesome in their new onesies!

(I still feel weird posting here, being a stranger and all, but your family has gripped me, and I am hoping fervently for a happy outcome. And by way of a brief introduction, I am the non-blogging mother of more children than is socially acceptable, and the scariest thing I ever had to endure was the 5 days my asthmatic child spent in the PICU, with the first 2 days being the ones in which we expected him to die.)

Your strength and vulnerabilty and willingness to share it all with us, complete strangers, awes me and makes me want to be a better person.

I'm still praying for you and the babes.

It sounds like you have two healthy boys. Others with children following IV grade brain bleeds are amazing have some beautiful stories. Whether or not Liam ends up being "perfect," he will definitely be original, interesting, funny, sweet, adorable, and loved. Right now the children are growing so fast and adapting so quickly, we can't begin to imagine the possibilities. Should obstacles develop down the road, Liam will approach them, conquer them, and celebrate them with grace. He will be fine one way or another. :)

I can't get enough pictures of those two! There is something so very very special about them. All babies are wonderful, and I have seen plenty in NICU, even in person...but these two? They are unbelieveably spectacular. I swear Liam's color looks better with every new set of pictures. And Kate, I know its presumptuous, but there is nothing empty about Liam. I don't care what they say or what the statistics show....he is there and he is going to truly be something. I am so excited to watch these two grow and become who they are fully. Thank you for bringing us on this ride with you.

Sending much love and peace from Texas.

I knew I just had to check one last time before bed tonight...thank you for the update. You sound positively tired. But drinking in those moments of 'mamalove' with your two boys (who look, by the way, SO cute in those onesies!)WILL pull you both through these long days. I can imagine how it's all just droning on. I felt that in your post. I continue to think of you all the time, as if you were my college best friend. It's amazing, this Internet place, and how it brings people together. I believe in Liam and Ben and continue to hope for their progress. Sounds like they are doing just great; Liam too - gaining weight at this age is the number one thing to help them. Way to go, you, on the mad-pumping! Also not easy, but you are awesome. We all know that. Get some rest, and post again soon, please!

Thank you for taking the time to share Kate. You and your family are on my mind on a daily basis. I just know that both Liam and Ben will be the best boys they can be-the combination of medicine and love are unbeatable!

Stay strong mamma!Jane

This is my first comment, but I've been following your blog since very early on. I just wanted you to know that there's a well-wisher in Chicago hoping the best for you. I think of you and your family often. I always look forward to your updates and the 1-month photos are so precious.

I'm a mom of 2 boys, one of whom scared the daylights out of me 2 years ago by showing up early and spending a month in the NICU. Your blog certainly takes me back, and your great writing brings the blur of the weeks very much to life. At the time I felt like I'd abruptly started a really harsh new job, with a hellish commute, crazy hours, and a briefcase that carried a pump kit and lots of little containers. And I had a new baby that I couldn't really have yet. I can only imagine what my then-18-month-old thought at the time as he wasn't much of a talker then. I do know that the pumping was very vivid for him as that's what he remembers now!

Thank you so much for sharing your life--there's a whole world out here pulling for you.

Thank you for the post.

I love the image of their sats matching face to face. That is beautiful.

I talk to my husband about you, like you are a friend from down the street. I told him the twins had gained 2 lbs in this first, rough, month, and he smiled and said, "That's good, right?"

I'm really looking forward to the posts when they give you the A-OK to bring one or both home. To hear how that first night went.

Glad things keep chugging along in a forward motion, even if they seem to not be moving very fast. Love those bodysuits, they are adorable.

Oh Kate, how you find even a shred of strength and inspiration to write is beyond me. And your words - your unbelievable words that flow like your precious milk from that damn Lact-EZE 3000! How do you do it, goddess?I encircle you.XOXO

i know that it must seem unbearably slow there in the nicu, but from our perspective? almost double their birthweight already? that's amazing.

"Welcome to Holland"

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this:When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned." And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very, very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

- Emily Pearl Kingsley

It will be a happy day when your beige world turns to windmills! I know it will, your words "Years of it." make me know it will.

Four pounds each! That is some serious milk you got there, mama!

4 pounds!! That's so awesome! Congrats, you big handsome babies.

I can understand how hard it is with no crises to avert - it's that day-to-day stuff, just living and managing and doing, that gets me down, too. It sucks when things go wrong or you're crazy-busy, but then again things are happening and time rushes by then, too. It's tough to sit back and just try to make it through each slow, never-ending minute.

Humor. A blessing to hear a bit of it in your tone, Kate. "This is the worst trip I've ever been on" is undoubtedly playing in your mental jukebox. Maybe someday it'll be "Surfin Safari"

I'm so glad you posted tonight... I had been checking all day for updates on the boys. Weird, I don't even know you but your family feels like part of my family ever since I first came here from mamasaysom. I find myself thinking of your boys and saying "mamalove, mamalove" out loud in the car... sending good energy your way. Thank you for letting us be part of your journey. Thank you for sharing your most honest and raw emotions. Your words make me feel so human, so vulnerable, so alive.

you bless me. i needed to hear "welcome to holland" posted by liz at this very moment in my own story (thank you). kate, you touch people in the strength and tenderness of it all. you bless despite distance. you have beautiful friends that name you and give gifts of grace and hope (the onesies are amazingly cool phoenix trio) and it saturates the deep parts of my soul everytime i check in. you are loved and listened to and it is such an honour to be with you (ALL) here. could we come and add some paint to nicu?

Checking in with you once again. Four pounds? That's a good weight.

I'm continuing to keep all of you in my thoughts.

Doubling their weight in one month? Well done, Mama!

(You have to tell us where those onesies came from. I'm coveting!)

happy one month - and congrats on reaching 4 pounds! (the Holland story is just beautiful).

"...causes and effects that seem to make no sense..."

Ever since you wrote that, those words come to mind each time I see a new post. Nothing seems to make sense, and yet, somehow in the haze of your reality I can almost see and feel rays of hope, as "ridiculous" as it may be. Looking at those pics of your boys cuddling affirm that hope.

And once again, although you claim to be a "humourless zombie," you even manage to find the humor in that!

I found your blog through a friend and have read your archives and have been anxiously awaiting updates every day for a while now, but this is my first comment. I have never experienced anything similar to what your family is dealing with right now. But, I still wanted to thank you for sharing for I'm sure there are plenty of moms and dads who have had or are having or are looking at the possibility of something similar. And I'm sure they will appreciate knowing they are not alone in their thoughts and feelings. And thank you, too, for sharing your beautiful children with us strangers in internet land.

Whatever country you are in (and the Holland analogy is fantastic), nothing beats the smell of your childrens' heads, Just close your eyes and SMELL! and you can be wherever you want to be.

Hugs to all of you,

somewhere in the back of my skull, the title of your post registered, and my little mental tape-player just got to the telling lines...like "i wanna go home." i bet you do. i wish we knew the way, Kate.

this beige monotony and strung-out wait must be like torture, and the waking up with boys on your chest, a little moment of sanity and good.

smiling at you from over across the puddle. drive safe. solemnity and exhaustion and zombiehood included, you're doing a damn good job.

Thank you for sharing this with us. My prayer for you and the family.

You'll laugh again, dear. There are times when we're down but there are times when God wants us to be on top.

*hugs*

Big, beautiful healthy boys. They are truly beautiful. :D

I'm in Holland. And I'd like to welcome you to it. It is a beautiful place. While it's not Italy - I'm not afraid to say that Holland is a much nicer place than people make it out to be.

God bless you and those beautiful boys. We're all pulling for you!

Oh, hair pie!

Hi Kate! Thanks for the update. We are excited to see that the boys are up to 4 pounds!! That's a testament to your sweet mamalove!! We are continuing to keep you all in our thoughts and sending you our love.

I looked at your pics last night before bed, and your boys look spectacular! It is great to hear that they have reached four pounds. Maybe they won't have to stay another two months in the NICU.

I'm sorry you don't have any definite answers, Kate. I hate saying I'm sorry but really don't know what else to say. The not knowing has to be torturous. I do believe you will laugh again...you are already finding humor as your post shows. I agree with a previous post....smell your babies' heads when you are feeling down. Nothing smells better.

You continue to be in my thoughts and prayers.

ashley

I'm cheering for you from Toronto, Kate. Sounds like your milk is doing them some good -- 4 lbs! WOW!

As for you...your strength is immense, even if it doesn't feel that way to you. I wish I could give you some more to bolster it when you feel down. Do what you need to do to keep yourself going and optimistic. They've done nothing but beat odds so far, babe.

wow, those are big strong boys you've got there, mama Kate!

Looking and loving the pictures of Liam and Ben: they aren't just sharing secrets, but comforting and teaching each other and preparing for all the trips ahead.

4 lbs is amazing! After one month in the NICU, Nicole was still just shy of 3 lbs. One thing that I just remembered was how the doctors and nurses always said, "Look at the baby." We'd get so reliant on the monitors, obsessively watching the light parade of oxygen levels, heartrate, pulse, etc. When one of those buzzers went off, we'd snap our heads up to look at the screen when we should have been watching Nicole. So when I look at your babies, I see two fellows who came into the world early, but have such inner strength. I see two warriors who will keep up the good fight to attain strength of body and mind. Whatever the numbers and charts say, look at the baby. Or in your case "babies."

The NICU routine is grueling, but you WILL make it out. Eventually it will be a distant, albeit resonant memory. You are handling this with such grace, strength and honesty. Ben & Liam are lucky to have you as their mama.

Those crazy pumps, but man! Four pounds. That's some good mamalove cream you have there.

PS

I LOVE the picture of Evan waiting for his brothers on the beach. How does he like being a big brother?

Dear Kate - I've been reading your story for a while now. I found you through Sweet Juniper... And I've been thinking of you and your family constantly, sending you my best, strongest thoughts for recovery. I am amazed by your strength and courage, and by the twins' fortitude. I'm delurking today because of the extraordinary analogy of Holland, and while your flight is still in the air, 35 years ago our family landed in Holland and it changed everything. My little brother is one of the most incredible people I know. Purity exudes from him in a way I cannot explain, but it just makes you glad to be around him. He's never verbalized, but he speaks volumes with rare touches, smiles, and true laughter. He lives a complete life with friends he loves, a job that makes him happy, and a home (group home) that allows him independence from our childhood home. I was moving back home after graduation when he was moving out into his first apartment - even though there weren't exactly words, there was a definite "neener, neener, neener" attitude going one. :) AND, he definitely has a better social life than I do! Horseback riding, bowling, swimming, movies, it's hard to get time on his calendar! He is a sweet, gentle soul and loving him has been one of the truest privileges of my life.

I love the spirit and courage your whole family has displayed, and know, that if your flight does land in Holland, you will all do wonderful things, together.

Another stranger chiming in to say that you and your boys are amazing. My second son came into this world with unexpected birth challenges (I hate the word defect) that are most likely not genetically linked but due to the 'environment' of the womb and just plain bad luck. One thing someone told me during those first few weeks of hormones and pumping, dr's appointments and craziness has always stuck in my mind and really helped to change my perspective on the situation. She said that I was chosen to be my son's mom and to go on this journey. You were chosen to be Ben and Liam's mom. They were going to get here exactly the way the came one way or the other and you were chosen to be the one to love and guide them. What if they had gotten into the wrong hands? What if their mom didn't feel it was important to pump for them or stand vigil by their bedside in hopes of holding them or getting to change a diaper or just be there? Perish the thought.

Your boys are gorgeous. I will continue to hold your family close in my thoughts and prayers. Soak up all you can from your little Evan, he will help you through this. He loves his brothers unconditionally. To him, they are everything he was hoping for and more. Cling to that and find comfort.

I just finished exclusively pumping for my son for close to a year. There is a wonderful group called ep'ers on yahoo groups for moms who pump for special needs, nicu, etc. babies. It is a wonderful resource and a great group of ladies if you feel you need it. It sounds like you are doing a great job with the pumping. Way to grow babies!

Four pounds - SWEET. And the pics of them together just melt me. I'm a puddle of cute-awe.

Dern Lact-Eze 3000. If only you could see the babies from the pump room. Plaster the beige walls with pictures of your sweeties! That's what I have done with the Mom's room at work. So much nicer than beige.

Your story has become such a part of my life. I can't even keep in mind that some people haven't read it yet. The other day, I walked into the living room and announced triumphantly, "The twins are doing okay!" My husband's eyes went, questioningly and unhesitatingly, to my chest.

Thank you for sharing it with us. Love to the boys--they'll be filling out those onesies soon. Happy one month!

I just read this blog for the first time. I'm overwhelmed by your ability to write into words even a portion of your emotions. I am overwhelmed by the pain and hope constantly fighting for control within you.

I hope that you let yourself be angry, hurt, wounded and hopeless sometimes without feeling guilty. It's a break from having to be tough and hopeful.

My prayers are with everyone in your family.

i have nothing to say because i'm certain that it has all been said before. i have been reading your blog for sometime now, always wanting to comment, to tell you to hang in there, and that it's all going to be alright. i know when i'm in a hard situation... that is the last thing that i want to hear. so i put off writing to you until i had the words that i wanted to say. i still don't have to words, because i can't even begin to imagine what it feels like to be you right now. your ability to pour your heart and soul out to complete strangers and see people responding to you and your beautiful boys the way that they do is with out a doubt the most touching, moving thing that i have ever seen in my entire life. you are perhaps the strongest, most amazing woman i have ever known... and i don't even know you. god has amazing things in store for you and your boys, you will see.

i'm sorry i can't do more for you than offer my words... my prayers are with you and your family.

Kate: It's nice to read your updates. I feel behind for a little while, but I think I'm up to speed on things.

I want so much to say something meaningful, or to be able to help. If there's anything a family in Bedford can do for you guys (a place to crash for a couple hours? a backyard to unwind in? a strange meeting/playdate?), let us know.

Yeah, I know. Strangers. We can be strange sometimes.

Lisa's post reminded me that I too was told to "look at the babies" while visiting my twins in the NICU. I think the lactation specialist was the one who actually said it to me. It was so hard not to look at the monitors especially whenever they started beeping, but I would hear the lac. specialist say "look at your babies"... and try to do just that.

Stay strong, Kate. Your boys are so lucky to have you as their mom.

Much love,ashley

I've got a bucketful of orange paint if you need a change.

And a standing invite to swim in our pool this summer. I'd love to let you guys float.

4 pounds sounds heavenly. Like a pail of ice cream and fudge.

I thought I had something to say.

I keep reading your posts and...

I want to come over. I want to clean your house and fill your cupboards. I want to cook for you and sit on your front porch and hand you a drink when you get home.

Best wishes.

Your thought wondering if you will ever be the same really connected with something I was thinking last week so I blogged about it at http://kyouell.blogspot.com/2007/06/will-we-ever-be-same.html

No parent is ever the same. I admit I haven't gone back and read all your archives, but you've been a mom for awhile. Think back to when Evan was born and I'm sure you will remember times you felt lost and times that you felt proud of what you did know. The same will happen this time, you're just learning different things.

Oh, and I would also like to know where the "mamalove" onesies came from. I would like to make a donation to our NICU of some of those. (My fave when my son was going through his first hospitalizations was a "tough guy" onesie.)

Hugs & prayers.

Four pounds!

Go! boys.

Don't let 'ol wheezy-the-pump boss you around too much!

The boy's pics couldn't be sweeter.

Hi Kate,You don't know me. I came by in March to read a few posts b/c Bon had recommended you as a fellow Maritime blogger. I wish I had stayed longer but blogging was too much for me at that moment.I just came back. I had heard on Bon's site that your twins were born premature but I had no idea... No idea... Anyway, I don't have anything to say other than I am in New Brunswick and although I know that physical distance shouldn't matter in this virtual space, I believe, somehow, it does. And so I will be back. And so I will wish for the best for all of you, knowing that I could reach out somehow, concretely, if it were necessary.

Oh GAWD the monochromatic world of the NICU drove me nuts too. Our babies' temporary home was more gray than beige but it drove me nuts. I brought as many colorful blankets, toys and mobiles (when in open cots) as I could to liven things up.