Having twins is teaching me to be patient with myself. I'm gaining more experience with seeing my best intended plans fail miserably and force me to re-evaluate and re-plan, over, and over, and over again.
Colin and Claire are not difficult babies, and Adam is a great, energetic, and active big brother. I would not consider Claire's acid reflux (and now Colin's as well, in the form of excessive spit up and vomiting) to be impossible to handle. Shannon and I pretty much have an unspoken philosophy that when something needs fixing, you figure out the solution and then apply it. There's no need to wallow in the level of difficulty of any situation. Of course there are frustrations, breakdowns, hands thrown in the air and raised stress levels... But more frequently we celebrate our minor successes rather than wallow in our misfortune of having to face it at all.
I am a first born child, Shannon is a first born child, and Adam is a first born child. First born people are notoriously perfectionists, so before Colin and Claire arrived our house was full of people who get angry or frustrated at themselves when they didn't accomplish exactly what they set out to.
The perfectionist in me is not gone now that they are here (and by "perfectionist," I definitely don't mean "does everything perfectly." I mean, "obsesses and abuses oneself in the many messy situations in life where it did NOT turn out perfectly" and in no way could I claim that I'm a perfect or even "good" housekeeper, just that it bothers me that I'm not). I feel an unexplainable amount of guilt when I am unable to hold any of my babies, cuddle them or give either of them my completely undivided attention for any amount of time. Colin could be content in someone's arms all day, and would barely remember to get hungry. On the other hand, I when I hold Claire I smell like food and make her think she's hungry even when she's not. It seems like when I'm feeding or bonding with one, the other needs some kind of attention or basic need. Sure, they are being fed on time, bathed, changed, dressed, and are getting interaction with Dad, Adam, each other, Mamie, Grandpa, Robin, Papa, and other visitors, but I'm the one who is missing out on the sweet-sleepy-cuddly baby phase. The last month is a blur. Last week was a blur. Hell, yesterday was a blur and half the time after a brief nap I can barely remember what I did just that morning.
But when all this has passed I want to remember certain things - like the pride I feel when my overly coordinated preemies are side by side, holding in their pacifiers (Claire with two hands in a move that I'm certain was taught to her by Adam, and Colin cool and casually with one hand). Or Claire's enormous, gummy grins and Colin's sweet dimply smiles. Or how when we leave Adam unattended in a room with his brother and sister and come back to see him trying to give a fussy Claire her pacifier. Or when our run-full-speed--into-the-walls, stomp on people's feet, yell at the top of his lungs, climb the back of the couch two year old crawls sweetly up to hover over Colin on the play yard to talk to him in soft voices.
On Monday, I had a terrible day. I don't admit that often because if you think about it, it's rare to have days where NOTHING went right, so I save my complaints for truly horrible days. First of all, I had several people (who knew someone who had twins, not actually have twins themselves), tell me to "just" do everything at the same time. Feed them at the same time, change them, etc. And maybe that works for 6 month olds. Or babies you can nurse at every meal, or who are old enough to let them fuss... But for premature babies who take bottles and need your full attention to drink that bottle, the last thing you want is for both of them to be hungry at the exact same time. It took me less than one feeding to figure that out. I'm not saying you want them to be eating at different hours, but a good 15-20 minute delay is ideal.
Side note: I've also had many people suggest to me (again, not people who have twins, just people) that when one wakes up in the night to eat that I should wake the other too and feed them so I can go back to sleep without interruption in another hour. In theory that makes sense... For the parent. But for the baby, does it really? I'm not saying I've never done it. There are several times I've just gone ahead and fed Claire at 3am after feeding Colin because she was kind of stirring already and it's only about 30 minutes earlier than normal. Or vice versa. But last night Colin slept a whole 6 hours uninterrupted. Claire made up for it by eating every 2 hours. If Colin's natural rhythms are already pointing towards being able to sleep longer periods at night, why would I wake him up to discourage that? Have you ever attempted the frustrating task of feeding a baby who simply isn't hungry because they ate just two hours ago? And I may sound insane, but even if I wake up to feed just Claire, I'm awake for less time and can go back to sleep faster. Feeding two babies takes at least an hour. An hour and a half if I pump also. It may suck for a while, but isn't the goal healthy sleepers for life, not my comfort for a few months?
Anyway... On Monday, as impossible as it may sound, they went four meals straight (12 hours) on the exact same feeding schedule, despite my attempts to offset them. This meant two crying babies who needed to be fed and burped at the same time. I'm pretty good at resynchronizing them when they are very off schedule from each other. I've started to master holding two bottles at once while they sit in their bouncy chairs... But have you ever tried to burp two babies at the same time (two babies who NEED to be burped to avoid horrible reflux situations)?
The hectic feeding schedule would not have been so bad, but Adam is now only going to school Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. I love getting the extra days with him, but I would have bet my life on someone sneaking into our house at 4 am Monday morning to slip Adam something... Not sugar, not a Red Bull, but most likely pure Speed. He woke up at 4 am in quite a mood, and one that lasted all day. All. Day. At home, where I could not get him out of the house to run it off or distract him. Where he did not have the sleep to cope with my attention being fully on Colin and Claire every two hours, and when that wasn't happening, I needed to find time to pump, wash bottles, or feed the two of us. He tested every boundary, did things 4-5 times after being told not to, and repeatedly asked to watch TV, which fosters his out of control behavior - TV does not fix anything, and in fact makes it worse... But when you would have your arms full even if you had 4 arms, your options are limited. I cried several times - each time from losing my patience and raising my voice to Adam, who was in fine form, and then for each time I thought about how I was damaging my poor innocent newborns who were focusing on taking a bottle while their mom screams at their brother to stop trying to Swiffer Wet Jet the carpet after asking him to put it away 6 times. We were just too tired to be able to deal with one another, and I hate feeling that way.
Adam took an early nap, and during my recovery decided that maybe he was overwhelmed by the lack of attention due to the new babies. So after a 3 hour nap that I was hoping would last 5 hours, I tried to have a picnic with him, just him and me, in the playroom while Colin and Claire napped in the adjacent room. Apparently the babies were not the issue, because the second we sat down he asked where the babies were and went to go get them.
When Shannon got home from a long day at Jury Duty, I was balling and retreated with Colin and Claire to the bedroom while Shannon took Adam out of the house to try to alleviate his boredom. In all, the day was a disaster. And I beat myself up royally for it.
I've quit reading advice on the Internet about twins. There are far too many stories of women who delivered 7 pound twin babies naturally at 40 weeks and then tandem nursed them for a year or more as if it's the easiest thing in the world. I'm sick of reading the judgements against supplementing with formula. I devote countless hours per day to producing breast milk, and still about 20% of their feedings are supplemented with formula. While I believe breast milk is absolutely the best, I do not have any high and mighty views on formula feeding. However, formula is expensive and smells bad. It's oily and hard to clean, and it's not nearly as good for them. But not every woman produces enough milk to feed a dozen children, and they simply have to eat. I'm drinking a gallon of water a day AND taking supplements, and just when I think I might catch up, they go through another growth spurt and I'm struggling to keep up again. Some might say I'm not doing something right... Some might say to give it up altogether because the stress isn't worth it. My original goal was 4-6 months. Now I'm just hoping to make it to month two, and despite repeated attempts to tell myself, day and night, that I can only do what I can do, I still put a whole lot of pressure on myself to keep up. This should be familiar to me since I had the same issues with Adam, but its just as frustrating as it was then. The perfectionist in me wants to know what I can do to fix it... The other part of me wants to smack some of these righteous women who post stories on the Internet about how what they do will work for everyone, and another part of me wants to tell lactation consultants that they don't know everything, because all of their "tricks" are unsuccessful for me.
I'm also tired of reading regulations from the foundation designed to prevent SIDS. With Colin and Claire's reflux, I'm having to do basically everything they say not to do. The " right" way: Put babies on their back. Don't co-sleep, don't put twins together. But if I put Claire on her back, she can't breathe. Several times, I have picked her up out of an upright bouncer or slightly elevated on her back while she's turning purple. The only way she is comfortable and not choking is on a boppy lounger on her side or stomach. Even the boppy lounger says "not for sleep," "not on stomach," "not on elevated surfaces or bed." So crazy me... The only way these kids are SAFE and able to sleep is on boppy loungers next to one another, on my bed, on their sides or stomach, and right next to my face. This is not one of those "nervous mom" things. I would love to reclaim my bed. And it's not like I'm getting a whole lot of sleep anyway, between worrying about them and being up every hour or so. I'm sure Shannon would love to come back from the couch. After days of trial and error and doing the "right" thing, this is what works best.
So I'm done checking the Internet for a while. The things I read only stress me out or make me mad.
On Sunday Colin and Claire were one month old. We went to have their newborn portraits taken with Adam in a few of them (bribed with gummy worms). Brenna Lynn Photography did our newborn portraits of Adam, and I'm excited to see the results. I just adore this one with Adam looking at them.
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I hope that when I look back years from now on this experience, I remember that the only tough part is that I can't stop time and gaze upon these faces for as long as I want with no distractions. And maybe by that time I'll have learned how to be okay with less than perfection... I might as well accept reality now anyway.
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