Skip to main content

Crazy Times

Long time, no write! Lots has happened since I last checked in with the residents of Koogville. Not much has happened, except we got pregnant, moved into a new house in a new state, changed jobs and had twins. Yes, TWINS!So, how did THAT happen?

Let's start from the beginning.

So, we had been trying for a baby for a while after losing one in December of 2009. We decided to switch to IVF to improve our chances. IVF is EXPENSIVE. Then I had a thought, "If we could buy in bulk the per unit price is lower, you know like buying a case of toilet paper at Costco." Mrs. Koog looked confused and briefly, terrified. I explained that if IVF costs $35K for the procedure, why not put like 4, 5 or 6 embryos up in there to decrease our chances of having to pay another $35K when we wanted to have another kid? Obviously, Mrs. Koog was not down with the idea of using her uterus as a "wombing house". She didn't like my puns about it either. Hey, she married me!

When we got down to brass tax, we agreed the math would play out like this: If we put in 1 embryo, we'd get none (-$35K) If we put in 2 embryos, we'd get 1 (even) If we put in 3 embryos, we get 3 (+$70) BEST VALUE!

There was NO WAY 3 were going in and/or coming out. Mrs. Koog was not even playing with the thought of triplets. Plus, we decided on an awesome Dr. who was not in the business of creating "Wombing Houses." You know, ethics and whatnot...

With IVF, the mom-to-be becomes a human pin cushion and the other parent becomes an expert in injections. I am kind of a wuss when it comes to needles. I don't like looking at them, getting them or giving them. One drug in particular is injected using like a 3 ft. needle and needs to be shot in the butt. This was no bueno for me. I nearly passed out looking at the thing. I suggested 2 alternatives to my (very patient) wife for this injection. First, I would tape the syringe to the bathroom counter and she could back into it. She looked horrified and refused. Second, she could ask our neighbor and my best pal Jono for his help. Again, horror followed by refusal. I was it. It was my time to shine. I did it. I was beaming with pride.

In my opinion, it was the most critical and uncomfortable part of parenting, even worse than the birth. She disagrees on all accounts.

If you are interested in learning about IVF, use the Google.

We found out a few weeks later, she was pregnant. We found out a few weeks after that it was twins! We realized a few weeks after that, we needed to move to a larger place. We found a new place in like a weekend, rented out old place and spent the next 12 weeks in a hotel! Me, Mrs. Koog, Isaac our dog and a friend of mine from college. All. In. A. Hotel.

We finally moved into our new place and my sister in law and one of our best friends threw a rockin' shower for us at the new house.

2 weeks later I receive this phone call while sitting down for an awesome sushi lunch.

Mrs. Koog, in literally the calmest, Zen voice: "hey babe, apparently I'm in labor or something. You should come to the hospital"

Me: "Ok, be right there. Just squeeze your legs together, babe. I love you." I know, what the heck kind of advice was that...at that moment, that's all I had.

She ended up taking my sage advice and with the help of hospital bed rest for 30 days, kept those little Koogs locked in the wombing house for almost the full term. Of course, Mrs. Koog the over achiever delivered our beautiful little boy Koogs naturally after 4 hours of labor and 2 pushes for E-Koog and 1 push for B-Koog. She is like a professional birther. I suggested this as a career, she was not interested.

E-Koog hatched first. I cut the cord. Nearly passed out. As the Dr held our very alert and handsome boy up, E-Koog pee'd all over everyone! We also found out he ate all the food as his brother's cord was dry. Both facts are sure signs of his personality.

B-Koog hatched second and by the look on his face, he was not thrilled with his brother's decision to arrive early. He had his eyes closed for so long, Mrs. Koog and I feared he didn't have eyeballs. I opened up those suckers and verified he was, in fact, fully equipped.

We were completely shocked 2 days later when they said we had to leave the hospital AND take them with us without any parenting tests or anything. No license or permit. Nope, just please leave the hospital Koog with all 3 of your dependents. Oy.

Like any new parent, I drove at least 40 miles under the speed limit and flipped the bird to anyone that came close to our station wagon, drove closer to the speed limit or executed any driving move that could endanger my 3 precious passengers. Even if they were on the other side of the road.

This crazy level of overprotection would stay with me to this day, 12 years after the above was written and sat unpublished on my blogger portal.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Paradise Crushed

Entering Heathrow on our way back to the US from the UK, I’ve started scheming and plotting to get back as soon as possible. Mrs. Koog firmly told me as we boarded our flight home we should pay for the trip we were still ON before buying tickets to return. Her thriftiness is endearing...sometimes. Anyway, fast forward 3 1/2 weeks…Thursday, Sept 14, 2023 to be exact. I had been pleading our return to the UK case since before we were wheels-up at LHR, and I felt like we had moved her toward a "yes." The little Koogs had just left for school and we were watching the Today Show as I checked my work email and sipped my tea. The return itinerary was limited to 3 weeks and was only Ireland (Northern and Republic of) and, of course, my beloved Wales. I was giddy as Mrs. Koog was joining me in finding places to stay around the Emerald Isle, even sending me the VRBO link to a lighthouse for rent on Arranmore Island, where her people are from in County Donegal. Our exchange ...

Sea Sick

I’m sitting here in the surgical waiting room at Medstar Georgetown University (MGUH). So many of our friends and family offered to accompany me during this vigil. I couldn’t articulate why I needed to be alone, but I just felt like I needed to silently grieve what my wife was losing and I didn’t want to burden anyone with that heavy silence. When I am stressed, I write. Ever since I was a kid, words were always my source of comfort in times of crisis and they were my source of memory in times of fun and excitement. But today, a day when I have such acute feelings of sadness, grief and gratitude, I find I’ve lost my words. I thought about why this was as I wandered (read: got lost) the MGUH labyrinth of buildings in search of food. Finally finding the Chick-Fil-A, grabbing my food and swallowing my tears it hit me. I didn’t lose my vocabulary, there’s just so many layers to the sadness, fear and gratitude it's overwhelming and it's very close to the surface. Arriving at the...

Grief and Appreciation

(Disclaimer: My thoughts are scattered these days. Trying to put together a coherent narrative is hard. Please be kind with any criticism of my rambling. These are my thoughts and feelings as I’m experiencing them in real-time.) I feel like I’m caught in a rip current of sadness and grief. It’s a funny thing, grief. It’s like an insidious wave of water just waiting to pull me from safety and stability. Lately, everything has become a trigger. EVERYTHING. Songs, leftovers in the fridge, memories, pictures, driving, soccer games, groceries…like I said, everything. We spent last weekend driving to and from upstate NY to return Momma-Koog home after watching the boys for us the prior weekend. I drove E-Koog, Mrs. Koog and Momma-Koog last Friday night. B-Koog, the newly minted Leader of his Scout Patrol, was at a Camporee last weekend. Anyway, we picked up E-Koog from school at lunchtime and got on the road for the 7 hour ride to the 518. About 25 miles into the drive, I bega...