Feeding Babies: What I've Chosen and Why

For the first three weeks of life, my boys breastfed. I dutifully sat on the couch with my double breastfeeding pillow and the boys worshiped lovingly at the alter of boob. It was nearly a full time job--sometimes the boys were on the breast for five hours a day, but they were happy and so was I.

Three weeks after we came home from the hospital, the boys started getting really fussy at night. I read about cluster feeding, and that it was normal for babies to be hungrier and moodier from 6-10 pm. Every time they'd fuss, I'd put them to breast, but one night, as they howled even after they were put to breast multiple times, I burst into tears as well. My breasts felt...dry. I just knew that my babies were hungry and I wasn't giving them enough. So, in spite of all articles cautioning you not to do this, I gave the squaking boy some formula...and the crying--both mine and his--instantly stopped.

The next morning I started pumping...exclusively. As I began pumping, I began to notice some mathematics that explained why the boys were not always satisfied after feedings. First of all, my right breast was producing 10-25% less at each session, which explained why the baby I was feeding on my right breast was always seemingly hungrier and fussier than his brother. I know you're supposed to rotate twins on breasts for this exact reasons, but one of my boys had a lot of trouble latching on the other side.

Also, as I tracked my output and their consumption, I found that I was producing about 3-5 oz less per day than the babies seemingly needed. Knowing this gave me the option to supplement with a minimal amount of formula in addition to my expressed breast milk.

Having now done both breastfeeding and pumping/supplementing, I can say that each had their positives and negatives. For me, these are..

Breastfeeding positives...
-sense of closeness with babies
-once they're latched, the potential to have both hands free is there
-doesn't involve any expensive or cumbersome equipment
-can be done at the drop of a hat, no need to heat up a bottle or screw on a nipple.
-some research suggests that fresh breast milk is better for baby than that which comes out of the fridge

Breastfeeding negatives...
-nipple pain became a real issue
-leakage from one breast while baby was feeding on the other soaked all of my clothing and made me smell and feel unclean...especially during a time when showers aren't plentiful
-having to cover up around people is a pain
-you don't know how much the baby is getting
-only you can feed them
-feedings some times took over 30-40 minutes per baby

Pumping/supplementing positives...
-anyone can be involved in feeding which aids with both giving mom a little flexibility, and helping dad and others to bond with baby
-nipple discomfort is less than with breastfeeding
-feeding in public is easier and more discreet
-hands-free bra makes pumping easy to do while feeding the baby with a bottle simultaneously
-you know how much the baby is getting
-makes going back to work an easier transition

My dried out skin after 2 weeks of pumping and washing bottles

Pumping/supplementing negatives...
-cost of bottles, nipples, pump, etc is obviously higher than the $0 cost of breast feeding
-dishes. By far the worst part of pumping. We don't have a dishwasher, so my hands are literally raw to the point of bleeding because of the constant scrubbing.
-takes a little (but not much) set up time
-I've read that the pump can't keep your supply as high as a baby can. I rent a hospital grade pump, though, so maybe that's better?
-storage can be a bit tricky, especially on the go

Point is, there are good sides to both. For me, I really like being able to track how much the boys are consuming. I also really value having my husband be a part of the feeding process. When we were breastfeeding, I always felt like he had to play the "bad cop" role as diaper man, and never got to enjoy their milk-drunk cuteness. We've always been equal partners as a couple, and this seemed like the best decision to help all four of us bond together.

A graph of the babies' consumption and my production since I began pumping

Whatever you decide, remember that any decision is a good one so long as you're thinking of your baby. I think formula gets this horrible reputation, at least in my granola, liberal suburban neck of the woods it does, but there are plenty of great arguments for formula as well. Formula is definitely not poison, and in the end I think it's best to do whatever makes the most sense for your family, your baby, and your situation. Not everyone can or should feel like they have to breastfeed for 12 months. Just take care of yourself and your baby and you'll be fine!

Beginning the Scale Wars

During my pregnancy, I gained 55 lbs. This is pretty typical of a multiples pregnancy, but since I was already heavy when I got pregnant, I probably shouldn't have gained so much. I blame Frosties.

I've struggled with my weight ever since puberty. Some of you read my old blog, so you know that I lost a fair amount of weight leading up to our trying to conceive journey, but I stupidly put it all back on between the first pregnancy and the emotional eating that accompanied the miscarriage. I'm not going to beat myself up for that; I was emotionally empty, and if ice cream could help in the month after our loss, then so be it. But the fact remains that I entered my twins' pregnancy at 236 pounds, pretty much the heaviest I've ever been.

37 weeks pregnant

On the Monday before my delivery, I weighed 291 lbs. At my one week postpartum appointment, I weighed 266 lbs. One month postpartum, I was 250 lbs. While this weight loss makes me happy (41 lbs so far), it's really through no effort of my own. I've been eating total garbage and I can't workout much post-surgery. The weight loss thus far can be entirely attributed to breastfeeding and being unable to eat at times because I lack spare hands.

Starting on Thursday of next week, I'm going to do a weekly health check in and weigh in. Here are some of my goals for this week:

• Drink two or fewer cokes per day (I know this sounds like not a sacrifice, but unfortunately that would be cutting back).
• Drink 3 jug-fuls (the container I got at the hospital) of water per day
• Count calories on at least one day

Baby steps, people.

Our Journey: The First Month

I go into detail on the first 2.5 weeks in an earlier post which you can read here. Long story short? Lots of tears, very little sleep. It was pure survival mode, and it was more difficult than I ever thought it could be.

But then...like some kind of magical, baby-whispering chariot of the gods...our Rock n' Play sleepers arrived from Amazon. I'll rave about these in greater detail in a later review-style post, but for now let me just say that they absolutely saved our little family. We've been using them for almost two weeks now, and they've enabled us to get on a schedule, as tenuous as it might be.

With the help of the rock n' plays, we started sleeping at night shortly before the boys reached three weeks old. We'd put them down in their sleepers sometime between 8 and 11pm, and we'd go to bed, too. Every 3 hours or so they wake up, we change them, feed them, and then repeat the cycle. By morning, we have about 6-8 hours of sleep...so long as it all goes well, but keep in mind that that sleep is extremely interrupted. Likely none of it is deep or REM sleep, but at least all four of us are asleep and awake on almost the same schedule.

Once the boys started sleeping at night with us though, they started to be more wakeful during the day. This is way more fun in a lot of ways, as they look around more and make eye contact. At the same time, it makes it more difficult to hold both of them at the same time or set them down for extended periods of time. We've enjoyed cuddling with them all day though, and I'm lucky to have a husband who can spend so much time helping.

When the boys were at 3.5 weeks, I noticed that they seemed hungrier and I felt like I wasn't adequately meeting their needs with exclusively breastfeeding. I switched to pumping and supplementing with a few ounces of formula per day. So far, I've been liking this a lot more. It's nice to be able to mathematically track how much they're getting, it's nice for my husband to be able to join in on feedings (and the bonding that accompanies them), and they seem more satisfied, especially at night. We'll see what the future brings, but for now I'm loving the pump I rented from the hospital.

Another new development has been that we've started going out more in the last week of their first month. We took the boys to Zoo Lights at Lincoln Park Zoo and we were super impressed with how sleepy and well behaved they were. They really seem to enjoy car rides. We also have been going on longer and longer walks as my body heals. We even took the boys to a local pizza joint for a quick slice, although we'll likely be avoiding real restaurants for a while. Today, on their one month birthday, we took them to a friends' house for the first time and did our first out-and-about feeding and change. I was very impressed at how well it went!

 All in all, all four of us have come so far in the past month, and it feels like it's been a heck of a lot longer than that. It's hard to think of a time when they weren't a part of our world.

Happy One Month Birthday, Double Rainbows!!!!

My C-Section Recovery

I'd like to preface this by saying that my c-section was probably not the norm. I was in a lot of pain throughout the procedure, my incision was probably bigger because of twins, and my recovery was different because my boys were in the NICU at first. Everyone recovers differently; this was just what happened to me.

The first 24 hours were by far the worst. I was doped into a state of confusion and disorientation. Every movement of my body hurt, and the incision site felt so fresh and gaping that I felt sure my guts were going to fall out at any moment. The pain was pretty intense, making me regret the csection completely, despite the fact that I had gone into my induction half wishing I'd just elected to do a csection instead. Moving from bed to bed when they moved me from recovery to the postpartum room was agony. When the nurse had me get up for the first time twelve hours after my surgery, I wanted to cry.

To add to the discomfort, I couldn't eat anything at all for a while and when they did allow me to eat, it was only from the clear liquids menu. I was hungry, but I was also petrified that anything I ate might cause me abdominal pain. Lastly, I was still catheterized. Obviously this was a good thing since I couldn't even fathom getting up to use the bathroom, but it didn't help in the comfort department.

So the first 24 hours were hellish, but after that, I improved at an exponential rate. In the second day, I was able to get up and go to the bathroom. I was shaky and slow, but my mobility and my pain were much much better. I believe it was the third day when I began refusing the prescription pain meds and just made due with motrin. I think it was the second day when I changed out of my hospital gown and took a (albiet very gimpy) shower.

I hear that they often take out the staples from the incision and replace them with steristrips before leaving the hospital, but my doctor decided to have me come into the office a week after my surgery and have them removed then. That day I had a fair amount of bleeding, enough to stain my shirt slowly throughout the day, and that freaked me out a fair amount. By the next day, however, the bleeding had clotted and stopped. It did not bleed again or reopen.

As far as movement, I was able to walk well but slowly when we left the hospital, but the stairs at my house were troublesome in the first few days home. I tried to limit the number of times I went up and down them, and in the first few days at home I had someone else carry the babies up and down the stairs rather than me. By a week after the surgery, I was doing to stairs a little better and getting around better.

In the second week after the surgery, I was able to take the boys on a 1/2 mile to a mile walk a couple of times. Other people still had to carry the car seats and set up the snap n go though. In my third week I started to carry the boys in the car seats for short stretches, and I set up the snap n go if no one else was around. Our last walk was a full mile, and while I was slow, I did the whole thing. Still, I probably shouldn't push the issue, and I'd recommend not doing lifting if there are other people around who could do the lifting instead.

Now, at 3.5 weeks, my steristrips have all fallen off (they fell off a number of days ago), and my incision is pretty nicely healed. It has definitely gotten smaller and less freakish looking then it did initially. Remember that the skin on your stomach shrinks after delivery and therefore so does the incision scar. It will not be as big forever as it'll look the day of the surgery. Also in the recovery department, I've been able to sleep on my stomach for the first time in about 7-8 months. I still feel the occasional pain or electric sensation in my incision site, but I do feel a lot better and a lot healthier than I did 3 weeks ago. Whenever I feel a little bit of tension, cramping, or abdominal pain I just sit down and take it easy for an hour or so. Overall, it gets better pretty quickly, even if the initial pain and discomfort is pretty intense.

Review: Twin Breastfeeding Pillow

We took a twin breastfeeding class at 33 weeks, and the instructor showed us a double breastfeeding pillow. I'd seen such things prior to the class and always made fun of them (they kind of look rediculous and they're a little pricey for a freaking pillow), but after the class I started thinking it might not be the worst purchase in the world.

I bought the very stylish cheetah print pattern (much to my husband's chagrine). I planned to use it right away in the hospital, but breastfeeding was kind of rough going for the first few days, so I didn't want to add another new element to the mix.

Once I got home, however, this pillow was one of the best purchases I made for the babies. While I'm still working on making tandem feeding a regular practice, it would be almost impossible without the double pillow. More importantly though, the double pillow makes it possible for me to hold both of them at the same time without both of my arms breaking off. It gives me a place to rest one baby safely while I'm feeding the other. It would be way more difficult to care for both of the boys by myself if I hadn't made this purchase. It also gives me a place to set my laptop while the boys are sleeping on me. Thanks to this pillow, I was able to do a project for work while holding both boys when they weren't even two weeks old!

The pillow also has a privacy cover that goes over your neck. My chest is pretty big, so there's still a lot of skin showing on the sides, but it's a nice feature for when we have less familiar company over.
Another feature of the pillow is a back rest and back strap, but I'm not thin enough to use it yet. Using the pillow on the couch satisfies the back support need though.

The pillow we bought is available for $69.99 on Amazon.com in a variety of colors.

Our Journey: The First Two Weeks at Home

Yesterday marked two weeks of being at home with our boys. It feels like a heck of a lot longer than that, however, because we have been through such a variety of emotions, sleep schedules, etc.

When we first got home, I was living under the delusion that the boys would go down in their crib and sleep for 2-3 hours at a time between feedings without a hitch. It didn't take long, less than 12 hours to be exact, to discern that this was a fantasy. Once swaddled and set down in the empty, cold, gaping expanse of their very expensive and fancy crib, the boys would pause for mere minutes before exploding into screams. Sitting in the recliner with two sleeping babies on my chest, I began sobbing to my husband. Neither of us had slept in 18 hours, and the night before that had been 5-6 hours of sleep. What were we going to do?

Enter my mother, swooping in like some kind of super hero. A few hours later, cue my dad, galloping in on a white steed. A few hours after that, cue the in-laws, coming over in the middle of the night like two free night nurses. My parents had to cancel their travel plans for Thanksgiving, which I cried some more about and apologized for profusely. On top of the very palpable baby blues I felt during those first days at home, I also cried because I felt helpless. I was a little like a baby myself: sleeping odd hours, eating erratically, and totally dependent on my parents for everything.

With the parents' help and the help of a few very close and dedicated friends, the first week was one of the most difficult things I've ever done, but it was still manageable. Sure, the boys wouldn't sleep on or in anything that didn't have a pulse, but if you have enough warm bodies, you can still get a bite to eat and the occasional nap. My sister in law helped us get to our first doctor's appointment, but by the end of the first week at home, my husband and I were able to get to the follow up doctor's appointment on our own.

As people began to go back to work following the Thanksgiving holiday and week one of being at home transitioned into week two, we had less and less help, but experience has helped to educate us. A friend helped us to set up the swing, and we brought the car seats in from the car to have extra places to set the boys down if needed. My husband and I began sleep cycling: he would sleep during the day, and I would sleep at night. It might be stressful for our relationship, but after almost ten years of companionship, we have the kind of bond that can withstand a few weeks of pulling and tugging.

Taking care of the babies by oneself is no small feet. Sure, there are times like right now when both boys are 100% knocked out on my chest and, while movement is entirely out of the question (and therefore so is going to the bathroom, showering, or eating), you can watch TV and surf the internet to your heart's content. However, there are other times when both babies are crying like banshees. They both need a diaper change at the exact same moment. One is hungry and the other one wants to be bounced. Whatever. There are a million scenarios in which two arms aren't enough, but you also don't want to wake up your sleeping partner. Maybe, selfishly, you don't want to wake them because when the shoe is on the other foot, you don't want to be woken up either.

Still, week two was substantially less nightmarish than week one. I had a schedule, awkward as it was. I had some alone time since we didn't need round the clock help, and I was much better rested. The temperature warmed for a few days during the second week, and we were able to get out for a few walks, which the boys enjoyed immensely. They enjoyed them so much, in fact, that they thanked us each time by sleeping soundly in the car seats for at least an hour or two after they returned from said walk. The walks were also nice for me because I was getting claustrophobic in our "cozy" two bedroom town home. I felt alive again; my post-surgery body was allowing me a more normal range of movement, even if I was only slowly hobbling a few blocks.

Near the middle of week two, I purchased rock n' play sleepers on the recommendation of a few women on thebump.com, and I obsessively checked the shipping status of my new baby accessories. I dreamed of sleeping at the same time as my husband, and having a companion during the day (because all four of us had slept in the night like actual human beings). The reviews of the sleepers on Amazon made them sound like some kind of miracle device, which sounded far too good to be true, but the optimist in me held out hope.

Yesterday, on the two week date of our return home from the hospital, we took the boys to their first movie. While our carefully scheduled sleeping regime had to suffer as a result, it was nice to be out and about. Malcolm slept soundly through the entire two hour film (we saw Breaking Dawn Part 2...ewww), and Brendan only woke up once, but was almost instantly soothed when I fed him and held him.

Everything was going wonderfully...until my husband had to go to his graduate class. I'd been alone with the boys plenty in the second week, so I figured I'd be fine. I put together the rock n' plays which arrived right as we got home from the movie and looked forward to a quiet night. Of course, this was the three hour window in which the boys decided to alternate between screaming and feeding over and over and over again. The cats attacked each other and then led a ground assault on the Christmas tree. I began worrying that I wasn't making enough milk because no matter how many times the boys fed, they just wanted more and more and more. I was crying; I was cursing. When my mom finally showed up after she got off of work, I was at my wit's end.

Like a good mom, she calmed me down and in doing so, calmed the boys. We put Brendan in the rock n' play and she held Malcolm while I napped. Later, after another feeding, I moved Brendan and his rock n' play up to the bedroom, and I slept in the bed. He was peaceful and so was I. At 1am, I fed them again and had my husband bring up the second baby and rock n' play "just as a test". The test worked wonderfully. Both babies slept in their rock n' plays for three hours while I slept in the bed. After the 4am feeding, my husband joined us. I thought it would be too good to be true, but the six of us--my husband, myself, the boys, and both cats--all slept like little angels until the 7am feeding.

Which brings us to now. We've been home for two weeks, but I can hardly remember life without the twins. Even though this is hard--like by far the most difficult test of strength I've ever endured--it's worth it. I love my sons, and I love being a mom. The past two weeks have showed me the strength of my relationships with family and friends, the strength of my love for my husband, and my own internal strength of self. I have moments of total, uncontrollable weakness, but after I melt, I put myself back into a solid state and carry on. Things will get easier; the last two weeks have proved that, but more than things getting easier, I think you just learn and improve with each passing day. We've come so far; goodness knows where we'll be by the time they're a month old.

Surprise! Finding Out About Twins

Our multiples pregnancy began much like the average pregnancy. I peed on a strip, I began to experience some (but not many) pregnancy symptoms, and our 6 week ultrasound showed a tiny flickering dot--the heartbeat of our baby.

Wait a second...baby? As in singular? Yes. You read that correctly. At our 6 week ultrasound they saw one gestational sac and one baby. During the ultrasound, I saw the slightest of objects just below the baby, and I asked the technician what she thought it was. She said it was likely the remnants of the fetal pole, and I just shrugged and assumed it must be something like that. We proceeded as usual, planning for our beautiful singleton pregnancy.

At 10 weeks, we went to a vanity ultrasound office. We wanted to check on the baby before we told our families on Mother's Day. I had barely hopped up on the table and lifted my shirt before the ultrasound technician paused and said, "want a surprise?"

I knew what she was going to say before she said it. There were too many little arms and legs in there to be just one baby. It was almost immediately clear that our one little baby was actually two. Their little gummy bear looking bodies were floating together in the black void of the gestational sac.

My husband and I left the office in shock--the good kind of shock. We were happy just to still be pregnant (this was further than we had made it during our first pregnancy); we hadn't even dared to think about something as cool as twins! We drove to a local KFC and stared at each other over our mashed potatoes. How had this happened? What were we going to do? We were scared, but mostly we just kept laughing. We couldn't believe in less than 30 weeks we would have the two child household we'd always wanted.

Everyone processes the news of multiples differently. If you did IVF, you might've prepared yourself for this. Others might be totally blindsided. For me, it was a total surprise. How you react is dependent on so many factors. We were planning on having two children eventually, so long term this didn't really change anything for us. Others, however, might find a twin pregnancy to be a big alteration to their life plan. This might also have financial implications for some families. If the children will need to be in daycare early on, you're talking about double the cost which might be a tremendous and seemingly insurmountable burden.

Another factor that can affect one's reaction to the twin news is the transition from a "normal" pregnancy to a high-risk pregnancy. This can cause added stress, especially if you're pregnant after a loss like I was. It also means more monitoring which can be time consuming, and it might mean bed rest. Bed rest and additional monitoring can again have financial implications, depending on your job and your insurance.

While we were ecstatic about the twin news, don't feel bad if you're less than enthusiastic initially. You have every reason to be nervous and scared. This might not have been what you planned for when you got pregnant. While parenting is all about flexibility, don't beat yourself up if it takes a few months to wrap your head around the unique course of your parenting journey. You'll find a way to make it work and eventually the blessings will outweigh the stresses.

Guidelines for Visiting New Parents

We've been home for almost two weeks, and in that time we've had many visitors. We're blessed with friends and family that are largely respectful and helpful, so we haven't had trouble, but I thought I'd put together a list of visitation rules to help friends and family of new parents. I know I didn't know some of this stuff until the last two weeks, and I wish I had. I could've been more of an asset to my friends who had kids before I did had I known.

1. Call Ahead and ASK: Whatever you do, don't show up unannounced. Hopefully this goes without saying. But even when you do call ahead of time, make sure that it's a request rather than a notification. For example, "would I be able to come by today?" is much more respectful than "I'm gonna stop by today". Give the couple a chance to say no if that's what they (and baby) need.
2. Be Punctual: If you say you're going to come at 4pm, show up at 4pm. The time set up by you and the new parents is likely based on a number of things (when they need help, when the baby will be asleep, when feedings are likely to be, etc). If you're half an hour late, you could throw off a very carefully crafted schedule and make your visit more of a burden than a help.
3. When in Doubt, Don't Come: If you're violently ill, you obviously wouldn't go pick up a new baby. But if you have the sniffles? a lingering cough? a sinus headache? You may think that your symptoms are benign, but it's better to be safe than sorry. When in doubt about your health at ALL, save your trip for another time.
4. Avoid the Doorbell: Sleeping babies (and more often, parents) don't need any extra noise in their lives. Try texting or calling when you're on your way, and someone can leave the door unlocked. If you have an extra key, text and say you're five minutes away and will let yourself in. If all else fails, knock softly first before you resort to ringing. I will say our doorbell is quite obnoxious though, so maybe this is just me.
5. Bring Something: Most people know this one, but it's very hard to get to the store with a newborn. Call the parents and ask what they would like. Don't just bring your favorite dish or something you had lying around. Obviously that's better than nothing, and anything is really appreciated, but ideally they may have necessities (or niceties) that would be appreciated more. Also, when it comes to food, items that can be consumed with one hand (sandwiches, wraps, burritos, etc) are preferable, especially for women who are nursing.
6. Take Away or Put Away Anything You Can: If you bring take out, take the garbage with you when you leave. If you bring groceries, put them in the fridge. If you use a plate, wash it. You've made a nice gesture by providing food/necessities to this new family, but don't saddle them with a chore as a result of your visit.
7. Wash your Hands: Those little babies have such new immune systems. Don't make a parent feel like a germaphobic jerk by having to ask you to do it; just swing by the sink before you pick up that precious little one.
8. Keep the Tone Relaxed: Being a new parent is anxiety-inducing. In the past two weeks, my average vocal volume has dropped by at least 50%, and we often listen to elevator music and ambient sounds to soothe the mood--something my punk/ska obsessed husband would never have engaged in a month ago. When you come over to a house with a new baby, keep your voice low and calm. Don't bring up topics about which you or the new parents will get overly angry or argumentative. This isn't the time for a political debate. If you're in a bad mood, stay home. Negative vibes are not needed in the home of a new child.
9. Let Sleeping Babies Lie: You're there to hold babies, but sometimes babies are asleep when you arrive. This will likely be the case, actually. Newborns often sleep 18 hours a day. If the baby is down, let he/she sleep. Sleep training a newborn is so difficult, and you can undo a lot of work/progress by scooping up a baby who might've just gone down in her crib for the first time. They're still just as cute when you watch them; you'll have plenty of chances to hold them.
10. Keep Your Kids at Home: Your kids are unbelievably awesome and cute. Unfortunately, they are also germy, loud, and destructive. These are not things anyone needs in the home of a new parent, even though they may love and miss your kids. Your kids will meet the babies soon enough. For now, leave them with a sitter if you want to come see the new arrivals, and wait until things are a little bit more settled to have those play dates.

Evanston Hospital: My Review

I'm going to use this space to talk about the experience and facilities at Evanston Hospital's labor and delivery and postpartum units. I will not get into the delivery, as that's a whole different story, which you can read HERE.

To begin, let me say that Evanston Hospital is one of the best hospitals in the country. I owe them so much for the health of both myself and my beautiful sons. Anything negative I have to say is certainly outweighed by the fact that I owe the staff my life.

Let's start with labor and delivery. Because I'm paranoid and because I was pregnant with twins, I was admitted to Evanston's labor and delivery four times before I actually went in for induction. Of the five times I was admitted, three times I was admitted immediately. One time I had to wait for about half an hour in the waiting room, and the last time I was told over the phone to wait at home for three hours until more rooms opened.

While this waiting was fine for me, my mom sat in the waiting room for hours and said that there was one woman there who was legitimately in active labor but for whom a room was not yet available. While I was in recovery after my surgery, another woman was being admitted in the recovery room in a tiny cubicle with a cloth curtain for a wall. A few of the times i was there, nurses and doctors apologized for taking a while to get to me, saying "things have been crazy". Overall, I get the idea that Evanston Hospital is a little too popular for its own good. It's certainly earned its popularity, but from my multiple experiences, I found myself wondering if they might not benefit from building an addition to their popular and proficient women's hospital.

Other than the busyness, I'm a big fan of the L&D at Evanston. The nurses are excellent and some were so personal that they actually remembered me between visits. The residents are also incredibly caring, and you have plenty of hands and eyes on you, all of which feel knowledgeable and invested in your health. My only complaints are that I felt like they should've been checking my cervix more frequently during my labor and that I didn't have much faith in either anesthesiologist I saw, but otherwise the staff are excellent and make you feel informed and cared for.


Facility-wise, the rooms in L&D are almost unnecessarily roomy, and a comfy, reclining chair is available for dad. The bathrooms are accessible and close to the beds. TVs are present for prolonged labors and monitoring, but the audio isn't exactly theater quality. This is, obviously, totally unimportant. One of my favorite features of the L&D is that a television screen by the bed tracks your fetal heart rate (rates) and your contractions. This screen is easy to read and certainly helped to keep me calm during my labor.

Since I had a csection, which was a totally awful experience thanks to the anesthesiologist, I was in the operating room for delivery. The OR was fine, as you'd expect an OR to be, but I was definitely impressed by the number of hands available during the delivery. I definitely felt like there was adequate support for both my babies and myself.

After my surgery, I was taken to recovery for about an hour. I was pretty out of it, so I can't exactly review it adequately. I was a little shocked at how exposed it was--kind of like an ER with rooms separated by curtains, but you're really only there for a brief period of time.

Now on to the postpartum floor--where you'll spend the majority of your time at the hospital. The rooms here are smaller than the rooms in L&D, but ours also felt smaller because we had two babies and all their stuff rather than just one. Once your baby is rolled into the room, I wouldn't count on having more than two people besides you and your partner without feeling incredibly cramped. Some of the rooms may be larger than ours was though.

The bed in the postpartum room is comfy, and a recliner is also available for your partner. My husband slept here for four nights and seemed fairly comfortable. A television is available with a host of channels, decent audio, and a small selection of complementary movies. We personally found the music channels to be useful in soothing both the babies and ourselves.

The bathroom is fine, and I took a couple of showers while I was there. My only problem was that the soap/washcloth shelf in the shower was way too low to reach after undergoing a cesarean. It would be helpful for them to install a shelf a little higher up. There is also no shower seat, but I think you can ask for one if your surgery has you unable to stand while bathing.

While in postpartum, expect to have your room invaded at least once an hour, probably a lot more. This is obviously helpful and necessary for both your health and the health of the babies, but it also makes it difficult to establish a schedule or bond fully with your baby. Nurses and patient care technicians were the most frequent visitors to my room, and they were all so kind and friendly. Obviously some stand out more than others, but overall I'd say that the excellent nursing staff is Evanston's backbone. They made a difficult delivery and recovery way more bearable. Feel free to ask them anything and pump them for as much free advice as you can before you go home.

You'll see a host of other people while you're healing up in the postpartum room. Your pediatrician should visit once a day to check on the baby (babies), and your obstetrician should come by once a day to check on your healing. On your last day, you'll need both of these doctors to release you. On our last day, they both came pretty early for which I was very thankful.

You'll also be visited by the lactation consultant. We were very thankful for their help, as we had trouble getting started after our boys came up from the NICU. One if the lactation consultants was more helpful and friendly than the other (I think Helen was my favorite) but they were both a blessing. A woman also came by to help us with the breast pump and to arrange the pump rental. She was very nice and personable.

Lastly, room service and house keeping stopped by multiple times per day. I always ordered my meals over the phone, but they were so good about checking on you that you could have just ordered every meal in person. Another friend who delivered at Evanston in 2011 said a photographer came by, but we never saw one.

Back to the room service. The food is pretty good, and even with dietary restrictions (I'm a vegetarian), I was able to eat with a reasonable amount of variety. My only complaint is that one of the nights they outright lost my dinner order. When my friend called on my behalf to inquire what was taking so long, she had to completely reorder and it still took an hour to get up to me. Even when it did, my drink was missing. That must have just been an off night, however, because I had no other problems, and the service staff were all pleasant and personable.

Visiting hours in postpartum ended at 8:30, but on at least two of the nights we had people in our room past nine and no one said anything. Even when staff came in to the room and saw extra people, they were reasonable and didn't try to rush us.

At night, the staff try to leave you alone, but you should still expect someone to be in your room every couple of hours, even if it's only to check your vitals.

While at the hospital, you have the option to send your baby to the nursery at night so that you can get some sleep, and the nurses will bring your baby back for feedings. Initially I thought I'd never do this, but I quickly changed my tune. You'll have plenty of time to earn your sleepless parent badge once you head home; use the nurses while you can. The last night we sent the boys to the nursery and I sent pumped breast milk with them. This enabled us to get packed up and to head home with some quality sleep under our belts.

Checkout from the hospital was, by far, the most frustrating part of our stay. We were ready to leave over an hour before we were allowed to because we had to keep waiting for a member of the nursing staff to check us out, walk us out, etc. I'm not sure what we could've done to speed up this process, but I imagine stronger self advocacy on my part might've gone a long way.

When you leave, the nursing staff will tell you to take all of the disposable items from the baby cart on which the baby has been staying. Take them up on this even if you don't think that you'll use it. You can always donate unused diapers and formula. Having the extra diapers, wipes, and circumcision bandages made our lives substantially easier once we got home.

Lastly, parking at Evanston is pretty far from the women's hospital; you certainly don't want to walk it during your labor. Instead, have your partner drop you off in the back if the hospital. A valet is even available there during daytime hours. When it's time to check out, you can leave your car in this area to load it up.

While it wasn't flawless, we were incredibly blessed to deliver and recover at such a well staffed and proficient hospital.

"Natural" vs. "Unnatural"

By far one of the most frustrating and offensive things I dealt with throughout my twin pregnancy was the persistent questions that were basically all not-so-clever euphemisms for "are these twins the product of IVF"? Some of these are..."do twins run in your family"? And "were these twins natural"?

The second question, which I actually got from medical professionals, especially irritated me. First of all, the accepted vernacular is "spontaneous" not "natural". The term "natural" implies that there is something "unnatural" about a baby conceived through IVF, and I hope that it isn't difficult to see how that could be offensive. My second problem is that these questions all ignore one basic principle--that it's none of your business. Look, I understand why a human being would be curious. I'm curious about lots of things, but just because you'd like to know doesn't mean that it's polite to ask.

So, I guess the PSA here is that you shouldn't start running interrogations on moms of multiples to derive their entire pregnancy backstory. Trust me, you'll be like the millionth person to ask, and it'll only serve to irritate. Instead, why not just try a simple "congrats" or an "twins are so much fun"?

And, while we're on the topic, my twins are spontaneous...but that doesn't make them any more "natural" or "real" than my friends' children who were lovingly and emotionally conceived through IVF.

NICU: My Emotional Reaction

When I found out I was pregnant with twins, I felt sure that the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) would be a part of my journey. Twins are often premature, and many people I've known with premature babies have had to cope with the little ones being in the NICU for weeks and sometimes months. While I knew having babies in the NICU would be tough, I was prepared for that.

At least, I was prepared for that until my pregnancy lasted past 37 weeks. By the time I was induced, the babies were big enough and developed enough that I thought we'd avoid the NICU altogether. Although we were tremendously lucky to have our boys with us shortly after delivery (33 hours and 55 hours later), any amount of NICU time can carry with it an emotional price.

For me, the emotional price mostly came with my second son, Brendan, who spent almost an extra 24 hours in the NICU. I felt a lot of guilt that I held his brother first and posted pictures on Facebook of just his brother and me while Brendan was still down in the NICU...alone. It took over 40 hours for me to get to see him for the first time. Logically, I know that the difficult recovery from my csection made going downstairs to see him any earlier nearly impossible, but that doesn't stop me from feeling guilty. Other people--other women--fed and held both of my babies before I did. The boys spent their first night on this earth away from their family and out of my arms. I try to give myself some slack by remembering how physically damaged I was, but it still hurts my heart to envision my boys all alone.

Before it happened to me, I thought the NICU would be no big deal, and I'm sure that with time it will fade into memory, but don't underestimate how being away from your babies can make you feel, and feel free to talk to the hospital and NICU staff about your emotions. You should be able to call the NICU 24 hours a day to check on your baby; I never took advantage of this, but in hindsight I wish that I had. Waking up during that first night to the sounds of other people's screaming babies in the adjoining rooms made my room feel so empty and lonely. I should've swallowed my pride and called.

PGAL: Pregnancy after Miscarriage

After a miscarriage, women have different reactions to trying to conceive again. While some women need time to heal and mourn the loss, others feel that the only way they can heal is to get back to trying. I definitely fell into the second camp, but I know women who have felt quite the opposite.
Regardless of when you start trying and when you get pregnant again, you will probably find that this pregnancy is wholly different than the last one. The blissful ignorance will likely be gone, and, if you're anything like me, it'll be replaced by fear and paranoia. The veil has been lifted, and you now no longer believe that pregnancy equals a baby. In addition to now being more aware of miscarriage statistics (1 in 4), you may also have doubt in the ability of your body. Almost always, this skepticism is unwarranted (the vast majority of women who have a miscarriage will have a healthy pregnancy the next time around), but I personally felt little comfort in those facts. My body had failed me, or at least that's how I felt, and so when I got pregnant again, there was less celebration and a lot more fear.

After you accept that this pregnancy is just not going to be the same effusive, effervescent journey that the last one was, there are things that you can do to help ease what is referred to in the loss community as "pgal-brain" (pregnant after a loss brain).

Here are some things that helped to ease my paranoia and stress as I went through my second pregnancy:

1. Let your obstetrician know your background--if you "only" had one pregnancy loss, it's unlikely that your doctor will implement any additional monitoring during your second pregnancy. That being said, it's still important that the doctors caring for you know where you are coming from. Letting your doctor know that you're pgal will make them more understanding about those paranoid phone calls and premature trips to labor and delivery that will undoubtedly crop up along your journey. Also, talking about loss, at least for me, has made me feel so much less alone.

2. Go for Vanity Ultrasounds--since I was pregnant with mono-di twins during my second pregnancy, and therefore, I was high risk, I had no shortage of ultrasounds to soothe my paranoia. Most women, however, will not have this to keep them calm. If you're pregnancy is "normal", you'll likely have 1-3 ultrasounds, and that leaves long stretches of time without hearing the soothing sound of your little one's heartbeat. Luckily, you don't have to jump through insurance hoops to get an ultrasound. While not everyone can afford it, non-medical ultrasound facilities exist in most areas and offer scans for $50-$250. Now, as stated, these ultrasounds aren't for medical purposes. They aren't going to look for deformities, but they are able to show you a beating heart and a kicking baby. When your pgal brain is working overtime in the paranoia department, sometimes that's all you need to see. If you can afford to be scanned at one of these facilities, I highly recommend scheduling an appointment for a time when you have a substantial gap in your regular monitoring.

3. Buy a Doppler...in the second trimester--Dopplers, like the ones used by your obstetrician, are available online for about $60. These devices are a simple way to verify that your little one's heart is still beating when that pgal brain strikes you. In the later part of my pregnancy, my doppler was my best buddy, but I will caution pgal moms about a couple of Doppler faux pas that I frequently see women make and that I've made myself. First, wait to purchase your doppler until at least week 12. I know some women find a heartbeat with Doppler as early as nine weeks, but this is rare, and not finding the heartbeat will only make your pgal brain worse. I didn't start using my Doppler with my second pregnancy until I was in my fifteenth week, and I recommend waiting this long as you should be able to find the heartbeat with greater consistency at this point. Another Doppler problem is that the device usually comes with a small amount of gel. Once you run out of this, several sites say you can use any old lotion in the Doppler gel's place. I would recommend not doing this. It never worked as well for me and just served to make me paranoid. Doppler gel can be bought on amazon for less than $10, and it's worth it for a clearer audio quality. Last cautionary note: limit the frequency and length of your Doppler usage. Check with your doctor for safe usage, as I've read a few things that suggest you shouldn't be doing daily home scans for hours at a time.

4. Communicate with your partner--Sometimes it's easy to forget that your partner is pgal too. Even though they're not growing a baby inside of them, they're probably having the some doubts and phobias that you are. No one is better equipped to relate to what you're going through than this person. Sometimes I didn't want to express my doubt and lack of investment in my second pregnancy to my friends, coworkers, and parents, because I didn't want them to doubt it as well. In moments like this, it was wonderful to have my husband--someone around whom I didn't have to put on a happy and hopeful face.

5. Join a PGAL support group--for me, the pgal board on thebump.com and the Facebook group "chasing rainbows" were my lifeline. Being able to talk to people who were experiencing the same emotions I was made me feel normal and cared for. Sometimes pregnancy boards online can be a little catty (women+Internet+pregnancy hormones=drama), but I found that the pgal community tends to be largely free of these distractions and negative vibes. Maybe this is because women on the pgal board are just grateful to be pregnant and appreciate the miracle a little more than women on other boards. Anyway, I highly recommend joining a group, either online or in your community, that is equipped to relate to and support your pgal specific needs. Even lurking on these boards without posting will remind you that there is life, and hope, after loss. It's also nice to watch other pgal women successfully have their babies; it will reinforce the fact that you're probably going to be just fine the second time around.

6. Distract Yourself--Early on in your second pregnancy, distraction is really the best way to soothe the pgal brain. You'll be tempted to second guess every symptom you have and countdown the days until your next appointment. There's no way to stop this, but I really recommend engaging in some activities that are not pregnancy related to keep your mind busy. To do this, you can take on extra jobs at work, go on weekend trips, plan non-baby related home improvements, or even just pick a new (and long) television series to watch on DVD. You'll have plenty of time to be pregnant and be a mom later on...take that tumultuous first trimester to enjoy your pre-baby life. Doing so will take your mind off of all the pgal worries.

Being PGAL was one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do. After safely delivering my boys, I had more than a few good cries to release all the tension and fear I kept bottled up for nine months. I'd start shaking in sobs and tell my husband "I was just so worried for so long!". There are things you can do to make it easier, but it likely will never be easy. I was worried literally up until I looked over in the warmer in the OR and saw my boys safe and sound. My husband cried in the labor and delivery room because he was still afraid for both me and the babies. More than anything, I hope you remember that it's okay to be scared. It's also okay to be sad about your loss even as you celebrate the new life inside of you. Just be honest about your emotions, remember that statistically you're probably going to be just fine, and reach out to others when your emotions seem to be waging war against you.

You will be a mother one day; try to enjoy the journey as much as you can!

My Journey: The Birth Story for our Twins

Short version:

Malcolm Finley was born via csection at 5:40am on Friday, november 16th and was swiftly followed by Brendan Bailey born at 5:42am. Malcolm weighed 6lbs, 7ozs, and Brendan weighed 6lbs, 6ozs.

Long version:

At 8pm on Wednesday the 14th we were scheduled to check in at labor and delivery to begin induction. At 7pm, the hospital called to say they were swamped and they'd call us when they were ready for us. After hours of not receiving a call, I called back at 10pm and they told us we could head over.

Once in L&D, they went over preliminary details and then started me on the balloon catheter to get me dilated. I was 1cm when I arrived, so we had a ways to go. The catheter didn't hurt, it was just kind of awkward and made getting up to pee kind of awkward. The docs also started me on a small dose of pitocin, and we waited.

Apparently the saline catheter method of dilation takes between 6-12 hours to get you 4cm dilated, but I was lucky and the cervical catheter had done its job by 6am on Thursday the 15th. So far, this was going well. They upped my pitocin and left me to dilate further.

At 11, the external monitor on Malcolm starts going totally bonkers, and my pgal brain starts freaking the heck out. They try to reposition the monitor, but can't find  him. The resident comes in with the ultrasound and dumbly fumbles around. She keeps saying "he's there" and I'm like "no crap, but is there a heartbeat?"

Her reaction? "I can't tell but I think his chest is behind your hip bone. Let's put in the internal fetal monitor". That's the one that goes in through your cervix and attaches to the baby's scalp. I'm panicking, but thankfully they get the monitor in and there's my boy's heartbeat looking nice and normal. Sigh of relief.

By noon, I was at 6cm, and the doctors were pushing to break my water and get me on the epidural. I was having contractions, but none that really felt "epidural-worthy", but I figured I'd want it before my water was broken.

Enter the anesthesiologist. He is cold and quiet, and the insertion of the epidural takes a couple tries. I feel...a little dullness, but certainly not the total numbness I'd been told to expect. However, I'm not in pain so I ignore it.

We break my water. It feels very warm and there sure is a lot of it. The doctors leave me to dilate further and up my pitocin again.

From noon until 6pm, I make no progress, except that I hit extremely painful contractions and the epidural isn't doing diddly crap. I'm crying and grabbing on to the edges of the bed. The anesthesiologist comes in again, but this time it's a new guy who is like the biggest jerk in history. He gets snappy with the nurse, and asks me if I'm "uncomfortable" as I cry and wince through contractions. No crap, buddy. But instead of investigating the viability of my epidural or upping the levels, he gives me narcotics that knock me out for hours.

Early in the evening, I make it to 8cms. I'm getting hopeful! By around midnight, my doc comes in and says I'm almost there--like over 9cm. She ups my pitocin and says she's going to take a one hour nap and then we'll start pushing.

After an hour, the extremely painful contractions thing happens again and the super jerk anesthesiologist comes back and once again gives mr narcotics rather than investigating my epidural. Cue another 2 hour drugged out nap. My doctor, mind you, is nowhere to be seen.

I wake up after 3am on Friday, and a resident checks my cervix and tells me there's still a little lip of cervix blocking Malcolm's head. Great. My doctor comes back in and is noticeably salty that it's taking so long. She says we're going to try to push and see if she can help Malcolm's head get through the cervix. We try pushing for about twenty minutes, but it's useless. He's not going anywhere.
My doc looks at me and says it's time for csection. My water has been broken for too long and my temperature is elevated--they're concerned about infection.

My reaction? Fine. What the heck took them so long? My doctor says she wishes that I'd stalled out earlier, to which I want to say "being stuck at 6cms for over 6 hours wasn't enough of a stall?!", but I keep it in. I'm tired and frustrated and ready to see my boys.

We head in to the OR, and I keep insisting that I'm still in pain and can still feel a fair amount--too much, I'm concerned, to be cut open. Once again, cue the narcotics. They make me a foggy mess and cause me to shake uncontrollably, but I'm not numb below the waist.

While they're setting me up, they hold my husband in a different room and don't bring him in until the very last minute, but I guess that's pretty common.

Now to the surgery--holy Jesus. I'm sure I wasn't feeling EVERYTHING, but I was feeling enough to be crying and screaming as they pulled the boys out of me. I was so drugged and in so much pain that I couldn't even enjoy looking over at my boys as they were placed in the bed to my left. I looked enough to see that they were adorable and alive, but that was about it.

As they sewed me up, the pain intensified and I started shouting obscenities. At one point my husband says that I passed out, but honestly the whole thing is pretty cloudy in my head. I just remember being in way more pain than I expected with an epidural, and after talking to others, I'm skeptical about the level and/or placement of my epidural.

All that aside, my delivery resulted in two healthy, nice sized baby boys and a sore but alive mama. That's all that matters to me.

Malcolm spent about 33 hours in the NICU and Brendan spent closer to 55 hours there because of their blood sugar levels and they had to be given antibiotics due to my infection from my broken water. I know we're lucky that it wasn't longer, but it was still hard to be away from them. I couldn't really get out of bed for like 24 hours, so I didn't get to see or hold them until Saturday afternoon/evening. Because they were fed formula in the NICU, getting them on breastfeeding was tough, but by the time they came home they were formula free, so my worry was all for nothing!

My Journey: Our Miscarriage

In May of 2011, after almost a year of hard work to lose weight, quit smoking, quit drinking and get my life back into orbit, my husband and I began our journey in, well, the usual way. I had been counting my cycle for almost a year at that point, and I even stopped in to my obgyn for a little preconception check up. He gave me the all-clear, some advice and his blessing and away we went.

I've lived a pretty blessed life, so it makes sense that I naively thought this would be an easy trip. No flat tires, no detours, no traffic jams. I thoroughly expected to be already refusing champagne at my friend's wedding in June 2011.

But the first cycle came and went and no baby. I sighed. I cried. I was impatient and frustrated with my body for being less than perfect. But I kept at it. July? No dice. August? Sigh. No. September? Still empty. October? Drank and smoked at the Halloween party. No reason not to, right? Sigh.

In my brain, I knew that five months was the average and that there was no cause for concern. Many of my friends and family have had to wait a lot longer than that for their blessed miracle. After the fifth month I started to relax a little. This wasn't going to be a short trip, so I might as well enjoy the scenery. I still counted my cycle and timed our trying, but I was a little less frustrated by negative pregnancy tests. The thoughts of my emptiness did not consume my every waking moment by October and November.

And then...in November...that blessed positive pregnancy test! I was sitting in the bathtub, casually glancing at the plastic stick on the sink. I figured it'd be a negative like usual, so I was truly a little disengaged. But then I turned the stick to meet my gaze and...that word. That beautiful word. And no, this time there was no annoying "not" stamped in front of it. I told my husband and we both squealed with glee. We were going to be parents!

At Christmas we told family and friends. Sure, we were only 6-7 weeks pregnant then, but so what? We saw our baby's heartbeat on ultrasound at 6 weeks, and the chances of miscarrying were 5% at that point, or so the internet told us. The husband and I are both poker players and we kept saying "I'd play 95% odds"...and so we did.

But at 8 weeks and 4 days I began to spot. Just a little at first, so I freaked out and called my obgyn. They had me in and did an ultrasound, which ended on a high note. Baby was there, fine and showing a heartbeat of around 150 bpm. Big sigh of relief. Even though the spotting continued, it wasn't too bad. And when it got a little pinker at 9 weeks, I called the doctor's office and was once again told not to worry. I'm a paranoid person, so I told that little voice in the back of my brain to shove it. I went on vacation and tried to enjoy myself.

My first pregnancy should have ended in the maternity ward at the local hospital on August 17th, 2012. Instead, it ended in a Las Vegas ER at 4am on January 16th, 2012. The insensitive staff made jokes about never having seen a positive pregnancy test before. They asked which hotel we were staying at and if we were having a good time. I shot my husband a "not worth it" look as he was about to throttle the staff. Our nurse in the ER congratulated me on my pregnancy. Are you kidding me? At this point I had cramps and heavier bleeding. I knew this was the end and I just wanted to be home, not 28 hours away in the desert of sin city.

They wouldn't allow my husband in the ultrasound room, which has to be illegal. And while the woman was conducting the ultrasound she wouldn't speak to me or make eye contact. I know it's not her job to tell me, but laying there and watching her face in the hopes of catching some sort of sign was even worse than just knowing. She pulled out the transvaginal wand and it was saturated with blood. I wanted to die.

The ER doctor gave us the news. Thankfully, he was an actual human being unlike his colleagues. The prognosis? The baby was still there but there was no heartbeat and my pregnancy hormone was about 10% of what it should have been at almost 10 weeks. That meant miscarriage...and it was only a matter of time before I passed the "tissue".

Thankfully, my body held out until we were back in the windy city. A trip to the obgyn the next day was only supposed to be to confirm the ER's findings. Instead, it ended up being my baby's final resting place.  When the doctor told me to undress for the examination I began to and instantly miscarried right into my hand. Blood splattered on the white tile of the examination room at the end of the hallway. I held the sac with my dead baby in my right hand and, shaking, I set it on the counter. This was the end. This was truly the end.

It took a while to make myself want to do anything except sit on the couch and stare off into space. I was angry at my body, the universe, luck. I went back to smoking for a couple of weeks because why not, right? Everything felt so unimportant compared to the loss of life and the changed outlook for my coming year.

Despite my sadness, I couldn't think of anything that would help me to heal more than continuing to try. Even though we had lost our first little one, we still wanted to be parents. In fact, I think we both wanted to be parents more than ever before. We had to wait six weeks until our follow up doctor's appointment, but thinking about the future and planning for our eventual parenthood helped the loss of our first little one seem like part of the journey rather than a horrific and depressing waste of time.

What's The Goal?

During the four days we spent in the postpartum unit, we had a parade of nurses. One of them, a young Polynesian woman whose name I stupidly ignored, saw us a number of times. She was a bubbly, vibrant woman who kept things light during an obviously stressful time, and I appreciated her care more than I can say.

One of her mantras, which I took with me as we left the hospital, was "what's the goal for today?". On day two, the answer was "walk down to the NICU to see my son". On the fourth day the answer was "breastfeeding".

It seems relatively obvious, but this nurse was keeping me focused and moving forward. Postpartum, it's easy to get bogged down in all of the minutia and completely shut down. It's also easy to look too far ahead and get overwhelmed at the impossibility of getting from point a to point z. By setting a simple, daily goal, I was given a sense of purpose, and ultimately a sense of achievement when I achieved that goal. During a time when things seem an endless trail of diapers and feedings, having a goal breaks up the days and makes progress more noticeable.

So I ask you "what's the goal today?". Set something necessary and achievable--a shower, five mins of tummy time, getting the baby into the swing--and take pride when you achieve it.

Extra Help

When we were in the hospital, every nurse asked us if we "had help" once we were home. I nodded and told them that all four grandparents lived nearby, to which they seemed relieved.

Of course, when they said "help", I assumed they meant someone to bring us meals, do a load of laundry, hold the occasional baby. I did not, expect that the "help" the nurses were referring to would need to be nearly round the clock assistance for the first few weeks.

First of all, after the birth I was not physically capable of caring for the boys by myself because of the csection. If my husband was asleep, I couldn't bounce the boys for long periods of time or carry them upstairs to the changing table. Also, emotionally speaking, I needed some company. The "baby blues" was pretty intense and led to hourly bouts of crying and a persistent sensation of helplessness for the first week or more postpartum.

Most difficult in the beginning was that neither baby would sleep in a crib or really anywhere that wasn't a warm chest or lap. Because we refused to cosleep with our babies, this meant we needed at least two people to be awake and holding a baby at any given time. That's completely impossible with two people.

Even once my husband and I figured out how to care for both babies simultaneously while the other parent slept (a combination of swing sleeping and just manning up and holding both babies), we still needed extra hands to prepare and bring us food and to help with chores. Breastfeeding twins requires 3200 calories a day, and it's pretty difficult to get that in your body unless you have someone around to basically hand-feed you.

So, in summary, get help, and I don't mean the "aww!! I wanna hold your baby and chat with you!!" kind of help. Line up friends and family who you know you can be honest and demanding with, and be sure to pay with plenty of thank yous.

If you don't live near family, you can hire help, but that's obviously not cheap. I would encourage you to strongly consider flying a parent out to stay with you for a few weeks or going to stay with them. We stubbornly thought we'd be able to do this as a couple, but the first couple of weeks have really reinforced that it takes a village...especially with multiples.

PUPPP--A Pregnancy Horror Story

As your skin stretches, everyone gets a little itchy in late pregnancy. But for a lucky 1% of pregnant ladies, this itching will surpass any discomfort they have henceforth experienced--they will develop PUPPP.


So how does PUPPP start? I'm not a doctor, but I can tell you how it happened to me. At 36 to 37 weeks with my twin boys, I started to develop a small, bumpy rash on my gigantic belly. It was itchy, and quickly became noticeably uncomfortable.

About 24-48 hours after the rash first appeared, it began to itch way more and it spread to my arms and legs.
 By the time I went in for my scheduled induction at 37 weeks, I was noticeably marred by the rash. It itched uncontrollably and had spread to my fingers, butt, feet and back. The bumps were quickly inflating with...there's no nice way to say this...puss.

During my induction and my entire hospitalization, they have me on benadryl to forestall some of the debilitating itch.
 After delivery, it almost got worse before it got better. In the few days after delivery it spread to my palms and the bridges of my feet. The itch caused me to break the pustules and make my legs and feet bleed quite a bit.


Now, 10 days postpartum, the pustules are gone and so is the rash, but it has left behind an incredibly dry, cracked, and scabby layer of skin, especially around my ankles, as well as on my feet, hands and tummy. It still itches a whole lot and I leave a pretty disgusting residue of dry skin wherever I sit and itch.


If you are pregnant with multiples, pregnant with a boy or boys, or your baby is of a larger size, you're more likely to develop PUPPP, but the "why" appears to be largely unknown, and there's of course no cure. Cortisone cream sort of helped me, but mostly I think it's just something you have to itch your way through. Hopefully you'll avoid developing this complication though, as I cannot possibly communicate how painful and distracting the itch is.