Wednesday, December 5, 2012

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.

3 comments:

  1. Bah! Now I regret not offering help after the movie! But that's awesome that you guys finally got to sleep at the same time

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  2. Oh no no! I knew I could ask, and you've been a saint! Sometimes babies are just evil little gluttons!

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  3. Thanks for sharing this- I'm trying to prep for twins in the near future (13 weeks left) and this blog was an eye opener but glad I found it :-)

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