Twinning
So, you gave birth to twins! Congratulations. First of all, let me tell you about how much sleep you won’t be getting in the first month. I literally slept between 10 PM and 1 AM, then woke to the wails of my starving newborn babies. Three hours of sleep in a night is really not enough - I barely remember this time. It’s like a fog of exhaustion and frustration and a tiny bit of insanity. No matter what help you have, unless you’re one of the lucky women that can hire a nanny and manage to have rest and relaxation. If you’re one of those women, I’m so jealous of you. I had a lot of help, including my sister and mother in law, both who took the babies overnight when I couldn’t handle it anymore. I have no shame in admitting this - my son wasn’t even eleven months old yet (though he would be in a little over a week) when the twins were born. Caring for them on top of caring for another baby was a lot of work, even with the support of my fiance and my father, who we lived with at the time. They say everything is double with twins - in pregnancy, you’re double huge, double tired, and have double the chances of developing gestational diabetes, eclampsyia, and postpartum depression. I fortunately only had to deal with the latter, as I had a very healthy pregnancy and was induced at 37 weeks and 4 days. Having twins is literally double the work of one newborn, which is hard enough by itself. Two? And an eleven month old who refused to sleep anywhere but with Daddy?
I attempted breastfeeding in the hospital but quickly switched to formula. It was just easier, and at that point I was just trying to survive through each day. My kids might have suffered from it, mostly Harry who was so confused by these two new screaming additions. His sleep regressed, he became whiny and clingy and even a bit mean to the babies (he still tries to steal bottles, but has stopped trying to hit or bite). Mickey Mouse Clubhouse was my only relief - I would stick Harry in his crib and turn the TV towards him while I fed and changed and settled the babies. My Dad helped as much as he could, but has emphasyema and was very sick and weak at the time. But he loves his grandchildren, and would take advantage of every moment with them that he could, just like he had with Harrison. My fiance was working a lot at a new job, mostly evenings, or long hours during the day, so I never had a break. I sometimes think I forced binkies on them, because it was an aid for soothing one if I was dealing with the other. It’s always a game of “Who is more upset?” “Who has a dirty diaper?” “Who is hungrier?” Sometimes one has to cry while the other is taken care of. I never really realized quite how slow babies ate until I had another one beside me wailing to be fed.
I felt like a space cadet. That much sleep deprivation isn’t healthy, but I also didn’t ask for help until long past my breaking point. I was too proud, or it was the postpartum depression and mommy guilt making me feel that I had to do everything on my own. Eventually I broke down, and had family gracious enough to support us all through it. I’m lucky that it only lasted about three months, and that things have been so much better lately. So, be happy - there is a bright spot at the end of the tunnel. Things do get better, they will get easier. The fog has lifted and I feel so much better, stronger, and happier for my family.
You know what else is a great idea with newborns and a one year old? Moving. Which is exactly what we did two months after the babies were born. This time in my life feels like it went on for five years instead of only a handful of weeks. My fiance and I purchased a mobile home and moved out on our own with all the babies. It’s been rough - for a week straight we had pots and pans all over our kitchen floor from Harrison, as we didn’t have childproof cupboards yet. Laundry sat in the corner of our kitchen, taller than my first born, and I haven’t quite tackled it yet. Doing laundry for five people, especially when those people spit up and need outfit changes multiple times a day, is a never ending story. I wouldn’t be done for days if I did nothing but wash and dry and fold. I have a legitimate fear that I will never be caught up.
It’s kind of a nightmare, but at the same time, it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. The twins are beginning to react to each other. Earlier this afternoon, I held JD up to Michaela and she started reaching for him and trying to sit up, a huge toothless smile on her face. The moments when Harry randomly comes up and kisses them, or rubs their heads, or tries to put their binkies in their mouths. He’s getting so big, but he is so affectionate. Harry loves hugs and kisses from Mom and Daddy, and he still likes to cuddle and be rocked to sleep. Mickey is such a round, happy Buddha baby. She is so quick to smile and laugh, and I secretly suspect she will be a Daddy’s girl when she’s older. Jonathan is a flirt, with this sly smile he does with his head half turned. He’s coy! And while he’s the more difficult of the two babies, he is also very sweet and is sometimes content to simply sit on my lap and watch Gossip Girl. And my fiance - I really honestly could not have picked a better person to go through all of this with. For better or worse, he is here by my side, and we are so lucky to have these babies. I think that the first year can either make you or break you with babies - and so far, our relationship is stronger than ever. This first four months has been a blur but so filled with love. And I am so happy to be where I am right now.
