Awareness

This time, it’s March 29.  The babies are now just over 3 ½ months old.  Wow.  Time flies. 

I’d like to say things are getting “easier,” but I don’t know if they ever really do—you just get used to them and they become the new norm.   You establish a routine and you make it work—with room to just wing it a bit. 

My saving grace the past three months has been my mom.  She’s really helped me kind of pull things together with the babies, the house, and she, as always has acted as a sounding board to just let me vent a little when things get hairy.  I can only hope that my kids have as good of a relationship with me as I have developed with her through the years. 

Oliver and Olivia have grown like weeds in the past couple of months.  With their reflux acting up, we had them back at the doctor last week to adjust their medication.  Oliver weighed 11lbs 3oz, and Olivia weighed 10lbs 2oz.  They have really started responding and smiling, rolling over, laughing, trying to play with toys, hugging blankets and really just turning into their own little people.  They are both sleeping all night—until about 7:30 in the morning—thank God!  However, I still don’t sleep.  Now that they are in their nursery, I spend the nights (as I am tonight—it’s 2:30am) lying awake listening to the monitor and springing to action with every little sound.  I am fully aware I’m neurotic, but hear me out… here is my fear…with their reflux, they are constantly vomiting or spitting up.  With the whole “back to sleep” deal, I am terrified that one of them will spit up, not be able to spit it out, and choke on it in their sleep.  So, I just don’t sleep.

What I have learned this month is this…

•  If they have been fed, changed, burped, held, etc., and are still crying---it won’t hurt them to cry in their crib or on their mat long enough for you to run to the bathroom.  Despite the slight bladder control issues post pregnancy, peeing yourself is not recommended. 

•  It is possible to rock a car seat that’s in the back, from the front seat, while driving…not safe, but possible.

•  Crying is acceptable when having to pack away their newborn…and 0-3 month clothes.

•  No cars were made with families of multiples in mind---except for maybe conversion vans, and that’s just not cool.

•  I hate doing laundry.

•  Even more I hate washing bottles.

•  So…I have Ken do both.

•  I am not “1c” (I’ll explain later)

•  While double feedings are efficient, babies are not in any way…it turns out it’s easier just to go with the flow, feed them, change them, hold them, nurse them one at time—sit back and let them enjoy it and relax. 

•  There are three types (so far) of baby crying (all demonstrated by Oliver daily)—“Whining for no real reason,” “WaaaaWaaaa---because I’m pissed but can’t shed a tear,” the worst of all and saddest thing I have ever seen—“My heart is broken and my feeling are so hurt, and I have real tears running down my face for a real reason---like, the sun is in my eyes or I don’t want my overalls on”

•  Short hair rocks

•  Baby chicken hair is hilarious.  Even more so is Oliver’s friar tuck look he has going with no hair on top.

•  Olivia think that cameras are going to steal her soul and refuses to cooperate for pictures---while Oliver makes love to the camera.
•  Moms are never in photos.  In 3 months, the only photo I have of me and the babies is immediately after they were born in the hospital operating room.  Every photo since--either I have been taking it, or someone else has made sure they were holding them for the photo-op.

•  Weight Watchers makes me want to cause my husband bodily harm.  He has lost 20lbs in less than a month, while I struggle to shed 10. 
•  Stretch marks look like tire tracks, and a my stomach looks like an 18 wheeler slammed on its brakes
•  There is such a thing as "fat deposits"--and they are grotesque 
•  Babies also have "fat deposits," yet--theirs are adorable
•  A baby's giggle--not laugh, but full on giggle, is the most intoxicating sound in the world

•  And…there is some sort of sick and twisted—highly mis-informed fascination with twins by the general American population…the following video is a perfect example and the conversation I have EVERY time I go out with them verbatim…

The past few months have also made me tremendously value down time with just Ken and the babies—which we get very little of. It’s really great to be able to just sit down in the evening, eat dinner, feed them, hold them and just relax for the first time all day. 

This has been an exhausting year.  With our One Year Anniversary just around the corner, it’s hard to believe what all we have done.  Our wedding, the babies, the renovation…  While I definitely can’t say this year will be boring—nothing is boring with twins—it will hopefully give a little more time for just relaxing as a family, just the four of us J

I think what is the most difficult for me personally with all of these adjustments is how the dynamic of mine and Ken’s relationship has changed in so little time.  Aside from dealing with the ongoing hormone surges, weight gain from the pregnancy, lack of sleep and mounting work which I used to kill—my self esteem took another blow with a recent conversation where Ken referred to me as 1C.  As in—“if our house were burning down and I had to save you all, you would be 1C”  I know it.  You know it.  He knows it—and quite frankly, I wouldn’t want it any other way… but nonetheless, that’s not something you actually verbalize, and it hurt.   In the course of a year I went from his fiancé who was his #1 in everything, to his wife who was supposed to be his #1—but within a couple of weeks I was the future mother of his children who he thought he had to protect to the point of my frustration, but not for my sake—for the babies, to Mommy---who is now “1C.”  So much for the first year of marital bliss…  That makes it tough.  We had enough struggles leading up to our wedding with family drama, that I had thought, finally, when we get married, it will be “us” and we can just sit back and enjoy each other for a while.  No stress.  Not so much.  Before I could blink, I am 1C.  No one wants to think they are third in line the first year they are married…  No one wants to have to share their time all week with people besides their new spouse.  Unfortunately/fortunately, however you choose to look at it, having our babies completely overshadowed (which rightfully it should have) our new marriage and life together with “us.”  We didn’t get to figure out how to be “us” before we became “US” and I became 1C.  There came a whole new set of identities and stresses before we even got to grow into who we would be together.  All of that being said, love the O’s more than anything in the world and more every day.  I wouldn’t change a thing.  You just don’t realize how much of yourself you give up and where you stand until a label is put on it.   1C.

I know how selfish that whole last paragraph sounds---trust me, I’ve been arguing with myself over it for weeks, but there is no part of being a mother that is easy and in all honesty—it makes me feel smaller, less significant and more humble every day.

On that, having my children has made me, for the first time in my life, consciously aware and terrified of my mortality—and even more so of my own parents.  Before having the babies days just seemed to roll into days and time passed, years passed, without anyone really seeming to get older or age to me.  I didn’t feel any older.  My mom and dad didn’t seem any older.  Now, watching the little ones grow pretty much daily has made me grossly aware of how precious and limited time is.  30 years have passed for me in the blink of an eye, and now, I find myself terrified of losing my own parents, and of the time when I am not there for my children.  The thought of either is just gut wrenching.  Events, tragedies, illness…they happen every day.  Now more than ever, I am grateful for everyday I have—thankful that no hardships have beset my family—and pray that we will all live full and healthy lives for a long, long time.


Wishing your family health and happiness, as well.

~B