Oh my lawd, I feel like I've been recapping trips since the dawn of time, and I still have to finish Croatia and get to our Baltic adventures at sea! But I'm going to take a little break from that and hit some of the highlights of the fall before we're officially into winter!
September and October were super fest-heavy--as it should be whilst in Germany!! We drank wine at Bad Durkheim, ate a variety of pumpkin delicacies at the Hitscherhof and Ludwigsburg pumpkin fests, imbibed beer at the Stuttgart Volksfest (in traditional German tracht, natürlich), and picked apples at the aptly named Appel Happel Apple Fest. And miraculously, we had gorgeous weather for all of it except Bad Durkheim, which wasn't too much of a tragedy since we managed to score some seats in a tent.
Then we rolled on into Halloween, which we celebrated with a trick or treating event at Colby's squadron and later that day with a neighborhood block party. The girls were pretty excited about being LSU tigers, but not so excited about wearing their hoods. But then they rolled right back around to excited when they realized that CANDY. It was a really fun day, and all of my stress about potential almost-two-year-old-girls tantrums was for naught.
Just a few days later, our almost two-year-olds actually went and turned two. And with a stunning sense of timing, they have been behaving like two-year-olds ever since. What a blast! But they really are learning and growing with alarming velocity, and I have to remind myself at times to have patience because they're still so young. When so often they can tell me what they want or need, I struggle to keep in mind that sometimes they still just need to cry and lash out, because even as an adult, expressing yourself constructively is no easy task. And fortunately they provide me with plenty of love and giggles throughout the day to survive the hard parts. We had a wonderful circus-themed birthday party for them with many of our nearest and dearest local friends, and were able to Skype in both sets of grandparents for the cutting of the cake. Technology man.
Our next big event was Colby's and my seventh wedding anniversary. He told me a couple of months ago to hold the weekend before our anniversary, but wouldn't let me in on any more of his secret plan. Then, on the Thursday prior, he sent me a weather forecast and packing instructions. telling me that we'd leave on Friday. Just as I was finishing up packing and asking if we should load the girls in the car, who should show up, but one of my best friends, who unbeknownst to me, was TOTALLY IN ON IT! She and her husband ended up staying at our house with the girls and the dogs while Colby and I headed to Paris for the weekend! He had booked an apartment between the Louvre and Notre Dame, and planned a cooking class as well as a string quartet concert at St. Chapelle Cathedral, and we also squeezed in a whirl through the Louvre. I don't think I've ever been more surprised or impressed by anything in my entire life. The whole weekend still feels like a perfect dream.
And that brings us up to our most recent holiday, Thanksgiving. We were lucky enough to be able to spend the holiday with a number of friends, and it definitely took some of the sadness out of being so far from our families. We had a pre-Thanksgiving dinner on Wednesday night with my sweet friends from one of my book clubs, then on Thanksgiving proper we had dinner at noon with another group of friends from our squadron, which led perfectly into family nap time, before heading out for Thanksgiving desserts with our neighbors. I often feel very disconnected living overseas and spending the vast majority of my time with two foot tall terrorists whose idea of communication is screaming, so it's always good to be reminded of how thankful I am for the friends we have connected with over here on this crazy adventure abroad.
Next up is Christmas, which we have already begun celebrating with Germany's famed Weinachtsmarkts, and we will be opening up our home to both of our families starting next week and lasting through the New Year. I am so excited to have a full house, and to share this, my most favorite time of year, with our loved ones. And maybe I'll even get around to blogging about it!
We had our 16 month well baby visit yesterday, and were overjoyed to learn that our little wees have finally leaped onto the growth chart! This has been a pretty long journey, as we've been struggling with weight gain since we first came home from the hospital. The girls seemed to be getting enough to eat at every feeding, and later at every meal, but when we put them on the scale, the number just didn't want to creep up as high as the charts told us it should.
All along, I've felt strongly that both girls are just fine, if on the smaller side. Both Colby and I have a pretty extensive family history of small babies, so I tried not to let it get to me too much. But when the doctor is constantly on your back about it, and you're having to make extra visits to the hospital for weight checks and testing, it's hard not to feel a little bit of stress and pressure.
So, when we saw that both girls had gained enough to break the 20 pound mark, we were pretty thrilled, then the news that Charlotte is in the 7th percentile and Annabelle in the 9th was just the cherry on the chunky baby thigh sundae. So, it seems like we can stop worrying and just count ourselves very lucky about how much wear we've been able to get out of our 12 month sized clothing!
Of course, as it always seems to go with parenting, you get one box checked and squared away, and before you know it, another issue arises. For those who don't know, when we go to our well baby visits, we fill out something called an ASQ--the Ages & Stages Questionnaire. It asks a variety of questions pertaining to the child's motor skills, problem solving, language and so on and allows the doctor to more closely track development. It is also the bane of my existence.
Look, I'm never going to be accused of being the most hard-driving parent when it comes to pushing my children toward achieving goals. I take a pretty relaxed attitude to their development, and figure they'll hit their milestones when they're good and ready. So far, we've never been very far off the mark of "average". They're walking, they're saying a few words each, they communicate the important stuff. Am I conducting daily tests to see if they can get a cheerio out of a water bottle, or use a stick to fish a toy out from under the couch? No. No I am not. So, typically I can answer about 75% of the questions on the ASQ with authority. The other 25%... it's sort of a dart throwing approach.
But she can read!!
Unfortunately, that has led to a little question about Charlotte's fine motor skills and her problem solving skills. I mean... she's 16 months old, so I'm not too worked up over it at this point, and I haven't seen anything that has given me cause for concern. That said, it's an in home assessment, it's free and it's non-invasive, so I figure another set of eyes on my girls can't hurt anything. I've worked with kids enough to know that the parent is frequently the last person to see when there's a problem.
Aside from these oh so harrowing medical concerns, things have been really fun lately. We've gone to the park a couple of times over the last week, and it's been fun watching them spread their wings and fly... far, far away from me. Like, seriously kid, come back. You're not even 2, let's save the running off and surviving on one's own in the wilderness for maybe 4 or 5. If I told you I was seriously considering toddler leashes, how hard would you judge me? What if I told you there was a stuffed giraffe involved?
Just a little over a week ago, Charlotte and Annabelle turned 15 months. It's not a conventional milestone age, but I feel like overnight my babies have undeniably become toddlers. They keep me constantly on my toes, and every single day they seem a little bit different from the day before.
Charlotte is my little ray of sunshine. She is rarely to be found without a smile on her face, and she has never met a stranger. She started walking at about 14 1/2 months and went from stumbling one foot after another to full on running within days.
She is also my amazing eater. Almost anything I put in front of her is met with approval, and she is a Cheezit FIEND.
Her vocabulary is starting to blossom, and she is particularly obsessed with dogs. If she's awake, she's probably chattering about something. The words we've been able to pick out so far are dog ("DA?") and ball ("BA?"). We were watching a bunch of the Superbowl commercials, and she squealed with excitement when the Anheuser-Busch beer ad with the horse and puppy came on and kept pointing and shrieking "DA? DA? DA?" It. Was. Adorable. Of course, she also pointed at a picture of a kangaroo in the German vocab book we were reading last night and shrieked "DA?", so it's a work in progress.
And when you ask her "Where's Charlotte?" she'll stick her chest out and proudly point to herself. She also points to herself in response to "Where's mama?" and "Where's dada?", but she always knows exactly where to point when you ask "Where's the dog?" Glad to know where I fall in the order of importance in her life.
At her last weight check, she had gained 2 pounds in two months and moved from the super duper 0 percentile in weight to on the chart at zero.
As you can see in the picture, one of her favorite things to do is climb into any available buckets or basket--usually bringing a book with her which she will "read" to herself. And the girl loves her some Sesame Street. We've never been a strictly anti-television household, the girls just didn't get interested in it until recently. Now, I know a pretty surefire way to get some snuggles out of this one is to put on some Big Bird and let her sit on the couch with me.
Annabelle is my wee mama's girl. I think she would pretty happily spend her entire babyhood confined to my lap if she had her way. But my little bird is beginning to spread her wings and fly. She takes a little bit of warming up, but once she knows you, she's probably going to be equally happy on your lap as on mine! She is our resident queen of the dramatics, and I'm having to learn a lesson about when to jump to her aid and when to let her work things out on her own.
She is an old soul. It's not always so easy to get a laugh out of this little enigma. I cannot wait until she can talk and tell me what she's thinking. I have a feeling Charlotte is going to be my kid with all of the crazy questions, and Annabelle is going to be certain she has all the answers.
But just when you think she might be the most serious baby to ever walk the earth, she will wrinkle her nose and throw her head back in the most glorious giggle-fit. She also loves to talk, and her favorite phrase right now is "bye-bye". It's really not a requirement that she be going anywhere. She'll throw it out any old time.
She had also gained two pounds in two months at her last doctors appointment, and she's been a great eater since then, so I'm hoping maybe she'll get on the charts at her next appointment.
She started walking a little bit before Charlotte, at 14 months, and is also sprinting around the house now. She can frequently be found carrying around her little felt knife and bread slice, which cracks us up because she looks like a tiny American Psycho. We didn't teach her that a bread and knife go together, but she always looks like she's in search of a little butter to spread!
The girls are starting to act more and more like sisters, rather than two babies who happen to orbit within the same sphere. When one is crying, the other will often offer a snack or a toy. The fight over toys that they don't want to share. They run after each other giggling and play a sort of peek a boo between the legs of the tables and chairs. They "hide" behind the lace curtains and laugh hysterically when they're "found".
As the days are getting longer and marginally sunnier, I'm really looking forward to a spring and summer of days at the park and getting out for walks around our village.
They're sleeping amazingly at night--usually 7ish to about 9:30--and down to one nap a day. I feel like we're really long past the worst of the baby days, and I am trying to fully enjoy this stage before we get to the tantrums and attitude that comes with the desire for autonomy when they get a little older. It's not as though every day is filled with butterflies and rainbows, but we've got a groove going, and I'm really digging this age.
It's been a while since I did one of these round ups, but the weather in Germany has been taking its annual toll on my soul, and I am grasping for happiness in whatever dark corners of the universe I may find it. Lord, but I hate winter. I mean, I love Christmas. And I love my birthday. But the rest of it can just go sit on a tack.
I'm a child of the South, born to a Southern man and a Southern woman who just so happened to have the misfortune of birth of being born a Yankee. My formative years were all spent below I-10 (a much more accurate description of where the South truly begins than the Mason Dixon line), where it was not abnormal to spend Thanksgiving weekend at the pool. At the very least, I crave sunlight. Even in the chilliest depths of winter, I could find a little comfort in that big fiery ball in the sky. And it's not even technically winter yet. Ye gods. Hold me.
Anyway, when these gloomy days come upon us, there are a few creature comforts that get me through the miserable days.
Starbucks Cocoa Mix
Recently, I started making my own hot cocoa mix, and I was pretty smug about how it was basically the best at home cocoa I'd ever tasted. Then, I stumbled upon these bad boys: Starbucks Salted Caramel, Peppermint and Double Chocolate Hot Cocoa.
Oh my lands, are these tasty. If only I had my trusty frother which is somewhere in a storage unit in middle Georgia, I think it could easily compete with any cafe hot chocolate experience. You've gotta use whole milk though. Trust me on this. Worth every extra calorie. Little packets of happiness, people.
Yankee Candle Apple Pumpkin
As much as I love me some spring and summer time temperatures, the aromas just can't compete with the cozy scents of fall and winter. Yankee Candle's Apple Pumpkin is a recent discovery of mine, though I don't know if it's new to the brand. I do know that it has trumped my previous favorite, Farmers Market.
I light the wick, and for a brief moment in time, it manages to trick me into believing that winter isn't proof of the devil's work in our lives. If there is a heaven, and by some happy accident, I end up there, I hope that it smells like the blissful combination of pumpkin and apple.
The Good Wife
This show! It is so fantastic! i've heard that for years, and I've honestly no idea why I didn't start watching until last month, but thanks to Hulu Plus, I was able to start with the first episode and thus far have worked my way through season two.
I can't really put my finger on why I love it so much--Julianna Margulies is fantastic, none of the characters are perfectly good or perfectly bad, the standalone storylines are interesting, and the overall arc is gripping. The writers of this show know how to employ a good cliff hanger, I can tell you that. So, if you're the last human on earth who has never seen this show, give it a try. I promise, it'll make at least a few frigid winter days fly by.
I wasn't raised Catholic, and I'm not a religious person, but I did inherit a fair bit of "Catholic guilt" from my maternal side of the family. Over the years, I got pretty good about brushing off that immediate instinct to feel utterly terrible and responsible for every bad thing that happens in life, but then I became a mom. And the minute those two girls came screaming into this world, I instantly became afflicted with a healthy dose of "Mom guilt".
The baby is crying? It must be my fault--I'm not producing enough milk, or holding her comfortably, or changing her diaper the right way, or putting her to sleep properly, or dressing her in the right clothes. We can't make it out the door in time to show up fashionably dressed, fed and happy for a playgroup--I'm failing at motherhood and obviously can't keep up with every other mother who is somehow able to find the energy and ability to leave the house.
A lot of those feelings were PPD related--I beat myself up about pretty much everything for months, and was pretty sure I'd made a huge mistake thinking I could be responsible for one helpless human, let alone two. But as the fog lifted around 6 months post partum, and the babies stopped spitting up or pooping all over me and themselves anytime we tried to go anywhere or do anything, life started to get a little bit easier, physically, mentally and emotionally. I think getting more than 3 or 4 hours of sleep in a stretch helped out a lot.
But even now, there is a certain amount of guilt that I can't shake. About something that has worried me ever since that day six weeks into my pregnancy when we heard two heartbeats. Am I ever going to be as good a parent to two babies as I could have been to one baby?
How can I give them both enough attention, enough patience, enough cuddles? I know that I am fully capable of loving them both with all my heart. I realize now that I could have fifteen babies and I would love them all with my whole heart--differently, of course, but fully. But the other aspects of parenting are harder.
I am guilty both for feeling envious about friends who are able to experience one-on-one bonding experiences with their babies and for not being equipped with enough arms to engage in them myself. I wish that I could bring Charlotte and Annabelle to swim classes, music classes, dance classes, but with only two arms and hands, it seems both unsafe and quite frankly, unfun.
I know that in just another year or so, it will get easier to provide them with classes and activities that will engage and educate. I know that they won't even be able to remember these first years and hopefully won't hold it against me that I wasn't able to do everything that I might have wanted for them. I just can't help but wonder how they might have developed differently or have been better off if I had been able to give them my entire, undivided energies and attention.
But then I see them playing together, working out the concepts of sharing and social interaction, without even having to leave the house, and I know that they're learning things now, important things, that they might not have been able to learn as easily if they didn't have each other. Maybe the twin relationship will help make up for whatever might have been different if it were just me and one child.
I love having my two girls. I would never, ever trade this experience for another. I don't wish for them to be any different than what they are, I just hope that I can be enough for them. And really, I suppose that's every mother's hope.
Early this morning, when they woke up to eat, I got them out of their cribs individually. I brought each girl back to my bed, in turn, cradled her in my arms as she nursed. Gently stroked her head. Held her tiny hand. When she finished, I placed her on my chest and held her for a few silent minutes, listening to her soft breaths, and feeling her heart beat next to mine.
We don't have many one-on-one moments of silence, and the older they get, the fewer and further between those moments will become. But just in that moment, I felt like maybe I was enough.
We survived the fun! Fun is such a joy, but it's downright exhausting at times, isn't it? Particularly when you're the self-elected president of your one-person introvert club.
The end of last week right on into the weekend was one exciting event after another.
We kicked things off with a celebration of candy, zombies, and Despicable Me minions (pop culture costume phenomenon of the year, don't you think?) with Halloween on Thursday. We went to Trunk or Treat on base with some friends and their adorable little girls, then came back home for a street party in Little America. We couldn't hang for too long as it was pretty chilly and Charlotte and Annabelle's fun-o-meter had about hit its limit, but it was a really great first Halloween. No melt downs and everyone kept their hat on--I call it a win!
Friday, we got ourselves all cleaned up and presentable and went to Colby's promotion ceremony where he finally got to pin on Major after finding out he'd been selected for the rank almost two years ago. It was a lovely, and more importantly, short, ceremony, and we followed it up with a party in the squadron, and later went to a schnapps distillery for dinner with some friends for some more celebration.
Saturday we spent the day cleaning, decorating, and doing food prep for... the girls' FIRST BIRTHDAY!!! Yep, on Sunday, November 3, 2013, they made the transition from infants to toddlers. I suppose they've been toddling for a while now, but I feel like it's pretty official now. I was actually awake, staring at the clock at 12:17 am, thinking about how exactly a year ago our lives were turned upside down, inside out and made epically more fantastic. Surreal.
We had a bunch of fabulous friends over on Sunday to help us celebrate, and it couldn't have gone better. The kids all seemed to have fun, and Charlotte and Annabelle were first birthday party champions. They went to town on their birthday cupcakes, played with their friends, and went an astoundingly long time maintaining a cheery disposition sans-nap.
As if that weren't enough excitement, last night, right after Colby got home from work, Annabelle took her first real steps. Both girls have been cruising around using their walker and the furniture for a while now, but last night, AnnaB took the couple of steps from the ottoman to the sofa without holding onto a thing. Colby and I sat in silent shock for a moment, then looked at each other and simultaneously shrieked, "DID YOU SEE THAT!?!"
Y'all, this parenting gig. It's pretty freaking stellar.
The last we heard of Charlotte and Annabelle, they were wee little six-month-olds who looked something like this:
L: Charlotte, R: Annabelle (Photos by Talita Springer Photography)
Charlotte (Photos by Talita Springer Photography)
Annabelle (Photos by Talita Springer Photography)
Now, they are less than two weeks shy of their first birthday and look like this:
L: Charlotte, 11 months, R: Annabelle, 11 months
Five months ago, they could barely sit up without toppling over after a few seconds and now they are giving me near constant heart attacks by doing stuff like this:
L: Annabelle, R: Charlotte
Should I ever again be struck with baby fever, I feel fairly confident in saying that it won't be because I am dying to hold a squishy newborn of my very own in my arms once more. It will be because almost one year olds are FANTASTIC. While I do have brief moments of nostalgia for the early days when I could rest a baby on my chest and she would stay there, mostly I'm still battle-scarred from the colic, what was likely undiagnosed PPD, constant diaper changes, and broken sleep.
I can't speak to anything past the one year mark, but from 6 months on? Perfection. They're still little babies who need me and love me and think I'm pretty much the most amazing thing they've ever laid their beautiful baby blues on, but they're also exploring their world and growing in independence and learning to play with one another. Every day my heart grows a little bit fuller with love for these girls, and I don't know how it won't just explode one day.
Charlotte is my little tasmanian devil. She is constantly falling off of some piece of furniture she has sneakily climbed up on, or tumbling into the toy boxes or the dog bed. She always has a grin at the ready for everyone who crosses her path. She loves to eat... well, everything. Haven't found anything she doesn't like yet. She has her two front bottom teeth, and seems to be working on a couple of more that may pop through before her birthday. At her 9 month appointment, she was in the 3rd percentile for growth, but since then I think she's really taken great strides in catching up with her peers.
Annabelle is my mama's girl. Throughout the day, when life gets a little too overwhelming, she just needs to get pulled up into my lap for some cuddles until she can decompress, then she's ready to get back to it. She is much more choosy about what foods pass through her lips, but in the past month, she's gotten much more adventurous, eating oatmeal, pasta, banana chunks and even a few mandarin oranges, hopefully getting herself a little above her 0% weigh in at 9 months. She's a tougher nut to crack when it comes to getting giggles, but you know when she smiles or laughs at you, you've truly earned it. She just had a top front tooth cut through after a fairly agonizing couple of weeks, and will have her very own jack o' lantern smile soon.
My babies could not be more different, and they challenge my notions about nature versus nurture every day. They have already formed a bond with one another that I hope only grows and strengthens with age and experience. It's fascinating to watch them learn from one another--shortly after Charlotte started crawling, Annabelle followed suit. Annabelle started pushing her walker around the house, and while before, Charlotte had shown no interest, she suddenly wanted to push it with her. I think our greatest parenting challenge will be helping them to walk the fine line between inspiring one another and competition with one another.
Warning: This is a post about sleep training, specifically, a method often referred to as Cry It Out. I understand it's a controversial subject, and it's not everyone's choice, so no flames please. You do what works for you, I do what works for me!
Ten days ago, I was about to reach my breaking point. Colby had been gone for four days out of a sixteen day TDY (this is the TDY that just keeps getting longer and longer...), Charlotte and Annabelle were going through a horrendous sleep regression, they were comfort nursing almost around the clock, Annabelle was teething. I was burning out fast.
We had initially planned to use the Ferber method on the girls when they were six-months old. However, sitting on my couch, an exhausted, screaming baby in each arm, I made the executive decision to bump up my timeline. The way we'd been doing bedtime for four months was that Colby and I would each take a baby, and rock, bounce or nurse said baby to sleep (I'll let you guess who used which methods).
Both girls had gotten to the point where typically, after about 30 minutes of the selected soothing technique, she would fall asleep. However, frequently, after sleeping for 30 minutes, sometimes even an hour, they would wake back up and need to be soothed back to sleep. Compounding the situation, Annabelle was hopelessly addicted to her pacifier, and would scream hysterically if she woke up and it wasn't in her mouth. And pretty much every time she woke up, it wasn't in her mouth.
Flying solo as a parent, there didn't seem to be a good way to use our constant soothing technique to get both girls to sleep. If I was trying to rock Annabelle to sleep, Charlotte was upset, if I was trying to nurse Charlotte, Annabelle would lose her pacifier and melt down. It was taking up to an hour to get them both to sleep, and when you take into account the fact that they nap every 90 minutes for maaaaaybe 30 minutes, and were waking up every couple of hours at night, I was spending the majority of my day trying to get baby girls to sleep, and reaping very little reward.
So, that pretty well sets the stage for my spontaneous decision to FERBERIZE OH MY GOD RIGHT NOW.
I know there's a Ferber book out there that probably goes into a lot more detail, but I used this website because The first nap was horrible. The site said that for naps, if the baby continues to cry for more than 30 minutes, call it quits and try again later. Right at 29 minutes, as I was walking upstairs to retrieve my furious children, they both fell asleep. They only slept for a half hour, but it was a start. I spent most of that half hour fretting over how scarred they were going to be, how much they were going to hate me when they woke up. But when I got them out of their cribs, they were all smiles and giggles.
That night, we went through the ritual of diaper change, changing into pajamas, reading a story or two, then swaddling with one arm out. I gave them both a lot of love, and then placed them in their cribs with the white noise machine and left the room. This time, it took about 45 minutes--most of the protest from Annabelle because, "HEY LADY, DELIVER MY PACIFIER IMMEDIATELY!" But they fell asleep at 10 pm and stayed asleep until 3 am. The longest stretch we'd gotten in about two months.
I wasn't ready to use CIO to wean them off of their night feedings, and wanted to talk to their pediatrician to make sure it was okay to break them of the night feeding habit since they're on the smaller side. So, I only used Ferber for initially getting them to bed, and then fed them each time they woke. I did decide it was probably okay to drop one of the feedings, and chose the one that typically fell around 12-2 am. I fed them for shorter amounts of time each night, hoping that eventually they'd stop feeling the need to wake and eat at that time.
The first few days weren't the absolute worst, but there were a fair amount of tears involved from all parties. But by day four, I was able to put them down without protests about 75% of the time. After a week, they might cry for a couple of minutes, but would quickly soothe themselves to sleep. Once I knew they could handle one arm out and still sleep for some decent stretches, I unswaddled the other arm, still keeping the swaddle tight around their middle. Then, this weekend, they slept from 9 pm to 8 am and 10 pm to 8:30 pm. Last night they had one wakeup at 5 am, then slept again until 8. (They always go back down after their 7 or 8 am feeding and wake for the day between 10 and 11 am.)
And as if that's not enough of a success story, today their typically 30, maaaaaybe 45 minute naps, have been 90 minutes.
I am so incredibly sold on this Ferber business. I know it doesn't work for some people for a variety of reasons, but i think a huge part of it is consistency. It's okay to go in and soothe at the approved times, but the minute you give in and pick up your child to nurse or rock, they'll know that if they just cry long or hard enough, they'll get what they want (not NEED, important distinction) and it's a vicious cycle to break.
You do have to be okay with hearing your child cry, and that is very hard. I just had to keep telling myself that they had full stomachs, clean diapers, were getting reassurance that I hadn't abandoned them, and weren't sick or in pain. And now I feel like I've given them a really wonderful gift in that they are learning how to soothe themselves without my assistance. I wish that I could always scoop them up and cuddle their tears away, but with two babies, I just can't always be there instantly. It's hard for all of us to accept, but it's something we're learning to deal with.
It's incredible how just getting 8 hours of sleep in a night and not battling over naps all day has changed my experience of being a mom. Now, I look forward to them waking up so that we can share our days, instead of sighing in frustration every time I hear a peep from the monitor. I don't dread bedtime, and I'm able to cuddle for enjoyment, not necessity!
Certainly, a child's sleep is a fluid thing, and while I'm feeling on top of the world right now, there will be plenty of sleepless nights in our future. But I feel it's safe to say that for the goal I was trying to achieve, Ferberizing has been a huge success for us and I'd wholeheartedly recommend it to any other parents searching for a sleep solution.
One of the aspects of having twins that we weren't expecting is how very curious people are about them. I can totally understand it of course, I've been fascinated by twins since I was a little kid (I actually used to tell people that when I grew up, I was going to have twin girls. So.), in no small part due to The Bobbsey Twins and the Sweet Valley series. So, I honestly don't find all of the questions, comments and stares we get offensive or annoying, but Colby and I do joke that we've had to start building "gawking time" into our schedule when we go out.
There are a few questions that I get over and over again. So, I thought I'd spend a little time here on the old blog answering them.
Are they twins? Are they identical? Do twins run in your family? Are they natural?
This is pretty much the litany we get when a stranger approaches us. So, the most basic response: yes, they're twins, no they're not identical, no twins don't run in our families, yes they're natural, but not spontaneous. As regular readers know, we conceived Charlotte and Annabelle in our first round of IVF, so our pregnancy was achieved through artificial insemination. But I can assure you, our babies are all natural. No pesticides or fertilizers here! And while twins don't run in our families, there is another set of fraternal twins a couple of years older than the girls in my family. I can't wait for them to meet some day!
How do you tell them apart? Which one is which? As the girls have gotten older, and grown out of that squishy, generic newborn stage, we don't get asked quiiiite as often how we tell them apart, but there are still the odd remarks about getting them mixed up. The more frequent question now is just which one is Charlotte and which one is Annabelle. The easiest way to tell them apart is face shape and hair. I call it the Bert and Ernie Rule. In the picture above, Charlotte is on the left. Her head and face is rounder (Ernie), and she has longer/more hair. Annabelle has a longer, thinner face (Bert), and is proof that bald is beautiful. Of course there are a million other differences that I can see because I spend almost every waking minute with them (different eyes, skin tone, toes, body shape, mouths, ears, etc), but I think those are the most readily apparent differences.
Do you feed them at the same time?
When they were brand new, and feeding almost hourly, I always fed them simultaneously. I'd use the football hold on a Twin My Brest Friend pillow (stupidest name ever). It was perfect, because otherwise, I would never have done anything but feed babies non-stop. Starting when they were about two months old, I began feeding them one at a time in the more standard cradle hold. Feeding simultaneously went quicker, but it was fairly uncomfortable, and I didn't have that lovely feeling of cuddling my precious baby. I felt like a cow. I still feed them at the same time in the middle of the night though, as long as Colby is around to help, because I love my girls, but sleep is takes priority over cuddles at 3 am.
Are they on the same schedule?
I try to keep their schedules as close as possible. I always change both of their diapers at the same time (unless there's an emergency poop situation), feed at the same time (well, one after the other), and put them down for naps and bed at the same time. I think since we started from the very beginning with syncing up their schedules, now they just naturally fall into similar rhythms. There are certainly times where one is less tired than the other, or more hungry, so I have to adapt, but overall, yes, I would say they're on the same schedule. The few times when one sleeps longer than the other makes for nice one-on-one time for me and whichever girlie is awake.
Do they sleep in the same crib?
Nope. In their first couple of weeks of existence, we had them in the same crib. Then we discovered that Charlotte would sleep much better in the Rock n' Play, so we set that up right next to Annabelle's crib and that's where she's been for naps and night time ever since. In the past week, I've been working on transitioning her to a crib, and while I initially tried putting them together, they've gotten too big and mobile for it. Annabelle, in particular, tends to flop around like a fish on dry land, so, inevitably, as soon as Charlotte would drift off, Annabelle would kick her in the head or swat her face, and we'd have meltdown central. So, they share a room, but I guess we're just skipping the crib bonding time.
I also get a ton of questions about cloth diapering, but I'm working on a separate post specifically addressing my love for the fluffy bums! I know there are lots of other twin mamas out there, did I cover the basics? Any other burning twin questions? Feel free to ask, there's not much I like more than talking about my babies!
A dramatic reenactment by Charlotte and Annabelle. One day, Colby returned home from work. "Angela, I have bad news. I have to go on a trip to the States for 10 days." Angela was perturbed.
The next day, Colby returned home from work. "Angela, I have bad news. My trip is actually 15 days." Angela was horrified.
Colby left. And everything was TERRIBLE AWFUL for a couple of days.
Then a wonderful neighbor came over to watch the girls so that Angela could leave the house and go for a run. (Because she has never loved running so much as now--no one is screaming! Or attached to her boob!)
The babies had been waking up every 2-3 hours at night for weeks and weeks. Angela hit her breaking point. Dr. Ferber was released upon her world. The little ladies were less than impressed.
After three days of "training", Angela put the babies to sleep at 9:30. They cried for less than 10 minutes then slept until 6:30 when Angela had to wake them or become her own personal boob milk fountain. They immediately went back to sleep and woke up for the day at 11:30.
~End Scene~
That brings us up to now. We're still only about a third of a way through this TDY, but I feel like I've gotten into a bit of a groove, and I think this next week will go by pretty quickly. I've got a couple of quiet days today and tomorrow, but then I've got plans almost every day until Colby gets home. I'm incredibly jealous because he's getting to hang out with one of my very best friends while he's Stateside, but he let me buy a jogging stroller and he's bringing it home with him, so I can't be too mad.
The first couple of days of this were truly terrible. I really look forward to Colby coming home at the end of each day for the assist, and it was tough getting used to the fact that I was it--not for a few days, but for a couple of weeks. I am so incredibly thankful that we have a very different military lifestyle than we did in either Washington or South Carolina. I can't even begin to imagine coping with two newborns while Colby was gone almost constantly. Or dealing with a deployment. Ugh. It makes me all shuddery to think about.
With ten days left to go, I still have moments of anxiety about how we'll get through this, but the days keep on ticking by, and I know that soon this will be in our past. When Colby gets home, he'll return to work for a week, but then we're taking a week and heading to Amsterdam, so I have that big light at the end of the tunnel to look forward to, and one way or another, I know we'll survive. And, I mean, look at these faces. There are surely worse ways to spend fifteen days!
It's hard to believe that we're already at the end of February and the girls are almost four months old. The last month and a half or so has been so much fun. They know who we are, and give us the brightest, happiest smiles. Annabelle's eyes light up and her mouth opens wide into the most adorable expression of glee. Charlotte raises her eyebrows, crinkles her nose and gives you a sideways glance and a mischievious grin. They're rolling over, trying to sit up, playing with toys, giggling at the baby in the mirror, trying out their voices, chewing on their hands. They take naps in their own room, giving me a much needed few hours to myself throughout the day. It takes ten or fifteen minutes to get them to sleep at night instead of three hours. They interact with the world around them, and even seem to be beginning to notice each other as they'll suddenly stop what they're doing and stare intently at the baby across the way. In short, I am loving this mom gig.
But full, brutal, honest disclosure? I didn't always.
It's still hard to admit that to myself. To know how hard we had to try to get here, and how much I felt like we'd made a huge mistake for the first two months of the girls' lives--that I wasn't cut out for this.
It's strange, because you hear all about baby blues and post partum depression and how hard motherhood is, but it's something that you just cannot prepare yourself for or understand until you are in the trenches. And once you're in there--the bullets whizzing by your head, in the same pajamas for the third day straight, a screaming baby in your arms and one ramping up, exhausted, sick to death of feeding your child--it suddenly seems like everyone around you is experiencing this perfect, rosy version of motherhood.
I think the world of social media has to take a lot of the blame for that. Now that I'm coming out on the other side of the horrible "fourth trimester", I look back and realize that I projected--or tried to project--that same image. Everything is perfect. I couldn't ask for a happier life. Look at this beautiful Instagram-filtered photo of my ideal life. But don't look beyond it. Don't really see me.
It took me time to fall in love with my babies. That's another one I wasn't expecting. Not only is motherhood hard, but either there is something very wrong with me, or not everyone forms an immediate, loving bond with their child. I was caring for these tiny strangers who didn't care, or even know, one way or another about my existence. I had a very strong protective instinct toward them--so strong that I experienced my first anxiety attacks after their birth. So strong that I was physically incapable of "sleeping when the baby sleeps". But I didn't feel an instantaneous, enjoyable love.
Combined with that, was the horrible guilt that I didn't feel like holding them all the time, that I resented the fact that they were attached to me every two hours--sometimes more. I was almost angry about the fact that breastfeeding went so well because it meant that I never got a break, that I didn't have an excuse to just formula feed and not be solely responsible for their nourishment. I actually do enjoy nursing now, and am so glad that I stuck with it, but it has taken me almost four months to get to this point. It took me almost two months to learn to enjoy my children, and to love them in something other than just a primal way. To enjoy their company. To look forward to seeing their little faces when they wake up, and not dread the moment.
I still feel awful confessing these things, but I feel even more awful keeping it a secret. Maybe this is normal. Maybe other people have these feelings. I don't know. Looking back, I wish I had realized that I was experiencing a little more than just the baby blues. I realized it in retrospect, but by then I was starting to come out of it and didn't feel the need for professional help.
I'm so glad that I had a supportive family here to help out with holding babies, cooking dinner, not judging me and my pajamas. That I have a husband who could not possibly be more helpful. Who changes diapers, gets up with me at night, rocks screaming babies to sleep, cooks dinner, helps clean the house, doesn't judge me and my pajamas. That I have two beautiful baby girls who I have finally fallen completely in love with.
I'm still not at the point where I can say that I hope we have another baby some day, but I have gotten to the place where I can understand why people would want to do this again. When I was stashing away the outgrown newborn and 0-3 month clothes, I actually found myself wondering if I should save it for possible future use. So things have gotten better. We're all doing better. But I wanted to be honest about how I got to this point. Maybe someone else out there is feeling these same things. Maybe everyone else feels them. Maybe no one else does. But it was my experience.
Once upon a time, in a faraway land... I gave birth to a couple of babies. It really does seem like a surreal experience in retrospect. Although, honestly, it felt like a surreal experience at the time as well. I was expecting a painful, terrifying, potentially dangerous ordeal, and instead what I got was a few hours of being really hungry, some time to watch some Arrested Development, an excuse to eat an entire box of grape and cherry popsicles, a two hour nap and two perfectly healthy baby girls. But let's start at the very beginning. I hear it's a very good place to start.
After months of Braxton Hicks and weeks of true contractions, with one fruitless trip to Labor and Delivery in the middle of the night, it came to pass that no babies were born. I'd been warned from day one that I'd be lucky to make it to 36 weeks and could probably expect labor to start closer to 34 weeks, but I was still lumbering along, with my uterine clown car at 37 weeks. I think no one was more surprised than my doctor that not only did I make it to my induction date, but I was only 3 centimeters dilated when I came in.
We checked into Landstuhl Regional Medical Center around 9 am on Friday, November 2nd. I was still incredibly anxious that I was going to be sent straight home without babies because Charlotte had to be head down in order for us to proceed with induction, and after spending almost the entire pregnancy banging on the door to be let out, the last couple of ultrasounds had shown her transverse. The midwife rolled in an ultrasound machine, spent some time peering at my internal organs, and seemed genuinely disappointed to inform us that Charlotte appeared to have her shoulder presenting rather than her head. I was thinking of all the ways I could stage a sit-in and refuse to leave until they yanked some babies out of me, when she decided, no, she did not trust the machine, she was going on an exploratory expedition of her own. She pushed up her metaphorical sleeves, and proceeded to jam her arm up my uterus practically to my throat, feeling around for a baby head. Lo and behold, either the machine had lied or Charlotte repositioned herself just in the nick of time, but it was decided that all was well, I was going to have some babies! That was just the first example of how wonderful my experience with my medical team at LRMC was. It truly seemed like they were just as excited for these babies to arrive as I was, and they did everything they could to help me feel comfortable, safe, and taken care of. I could not have asked for a more fantastic group of nurses, midwives, and doctors. I was started on a low dose drip of pitocin at 10:00 am and things progressed veeeeerrrry slowly throughout the morning and afternoon. I had my first contraction at 10:30 and over the course of the next few hours, the pitocin was upped so that the contractions became more intense and I eventually started dilating more.
Given my circumstances, I went into labor knowing for a certainty that I would get an epidural. There was a very good chance, given that Annabelle was still transverse, that I would need an emergency c-section, and I absolutely did not want to go under general anesthesia if that were the case. But with my experience with contractions up to the point that I got the epidural at 5 centimeters, I do wonder if I could have handled a medication free labor. The contractions were painful, but I never felt crippled by the pain and was able to breathe through them fairly easily. Of course, the pain would have become more intense down the line, it's just something I think about from time to time. Maybe if I ever have to deliver just one baby, I'll give it a try. But I also had a fantastic experience with the epidural, so I don't know. Why put myself through it if I don't have to, you know? Anyhow, I got the epidural in the early evening, and contrary to what I expected, things sped up after that. It had taken me most of the day to go from 3 to 5 centimeters, and then another couple of hours to get to 6 centimeters, so I figured I'd take a nap since I evidently had plenty of time before the ladies arrived. I was rolled over on my side to help the epidural take better, and slept on and off for about two hours. The next thing I knew, my doctor was in the room to check me and announcing that it was go time. Because it was twins, I delivered in the OR so that they could move immediately to a c-section if necessary. It was quite a party in there, and that's when I started freaking out a little bit and my body started going into a mild form of shock. Colby had to suit up while they were prepping me for delivery, so for the first few minutes, I was by myself in a room full of almost all strangers. There was my doctor and a girl he was training, two baby teams, the anesthesiologist, a nurse from the NICU, my nurse, and possibly some others--I know there was a total of 14 or 15 people in the room all hustling and bustling as I laid there staring at a giant OR light, shivering like crazy, without any pants.
And that is why I will always love my anesthesiologist. He noticed that I was proceeding quickly into a silent freak out, and after covering my upper chest and arms in a deliciously warm inflatable blanket, he leaned over me and in his soothing anesthesiologist voice introduced himself, talked to me about everything he was doing and what everyone in the room was doing, and basically kept me from the edge of madness until Colby arrived.
Then my nurse came and took my hand and told me it was time to push. Now, this was one of the craziest experiences I've had, because I could feel absolutely nothing below the waist, yet I somehow had to get these babies out of me. So the nurse told me that she would tell me when a contraction was coming and I would need to push while she counted to eight. Fortunately, I remembered a little tidbit we had learned at our birthing class, that I would need to push as though I were trying to have a bowel movement. Gross, yes. But effective? Also yes.
I pushed for 15 minutes with Charlotte, and everyone in the room was my biggest cheerleader. They made me feel like I was the champion of delivering babies. At some point they put me on oxygen, but that was the only slight hiccup, and Charlotte Cecilia came screaming into the world at 12:17 am on November 3rd, 5 lbs 12.9 oz 18.9 inches long. They placed her on my stomach so that I could meet her, and Colby cut the cord, but then there was more work to be done.
The doctor asked my nurse if Annabelle was still breech, but by some miracle, that little baby had flipped herself around and raced for the exit as soon as her sister checked out. So, without further delay, another contraction came on and the nurse started the pushing count down. I don't know how it's possible to not be able to feel something, but also be completely exhausted by it. I am in awe of women who push for hours on end. I'd pushed for 15 minutes, had a break for a couple of minutes, and then minutes later, Annabelle Claire joined the party at 12:22 am, 5 lbs 15 oz 19.1 inches long.
After that, everything is such a blur. The doctor asked us if we wanted to see the placentas, and in adrenaline powered curiosity, I said yes. It was actually really fascinating, and I'm glad I got to look at the organ that kept my girls safe for 37 weeks and 1 day. I had a second degree tear, so once we were done with the science lesson, he stitched me up and I was transfered from the table back to the hospital bed for the ride back to the labor room. I imagine we probably got back to the room, where my mom was waiting anxiously, around 1 am, and I have no idea where the next four hours went. I know the girls got baths and we had our first breastfeeding session. Both girls latched on pretty well for first timers, and the only worrisome part was that Charlotte had a hard time warming up to the right temperature. They had me do skin to skin with her for a while, and finally she got the all clear and was bundled up next to her sister.
Then, I was under strict instructions to pee or I was going to get a catheter. They'd been pumping fluids into me for hours, and I'd been drinking water like crazy, so my bladder was incredibly full, but evidently one of the side effects of the epidural can be difficulty urinating independently once the catheter is removed. However, by then the epidural was wearing off, and the last thing I wanted was to be re-catheterized, so we turned on the water faucet and I tried very hard to think of waterfalls. When it finally happened, it was like that scene in Austin Powers--I didn't think it would ever stop! Finally, the epidural wore off enough that I was able to take a quick shower, then it was down to the mother and baby ward to try and get some sleep. What I still can't believe is that when I was wheeled down to my room for the next two days, Charlotte and Annabelle were able to come with us. It's absolutely amazing to me that our little peanuts didn't have to spend any time at all in the NICU. That had been almost a certainty--just like the fact that they were going to come no later than 36 weeks--but my little troopers blew us all away by being perfectly developed and healthy. We had a moment of concern when we were told later that morning that Annabelle had a slight heart murmur that they were monitoring, but by the time we checked out on Monday morning it had resolved itself. I am so proud of my little miracle babies and love them more and more with every day that passes.
(Fabulous birth photography done by my wonderfully talented friend, Jennifer Winfrey of Jennifer Winfrey Photography)
Historical Note: The Battle of Pacifier Point is commonly held to be the turning point in the long-running conflict between the rebels and their Motherland. Prior to the Motherland's crucial triumph in the fields of Pacifier Point, the rebels were frequently seen exhibiting the behavior pictured below. However, after their defeat, the rebels could be more easily subdued through the use of specifically engineered bits of rubber and plastic, as seen here: Although the Conflict is ongoing, the Battle of Pacifier Point reenergized the soldiers fighting on behalf of the Motherland, and their war cry can still be heard throughout the land: "I'M DOING THIS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!"
On Saturday, January 26, 2013, Charlotte was successfully quieted and dissuaded from a full-on meltdown through the use of a pacifier. There are an awful lot of milestones that have occured over the past 12 weeks, most of which I'm pretty hazy on the specific dates, but I will never, ever forget this past Saturday.
Like most parents, initially we were mostly against the idea of a pacifier. Nipple confusion! Overbite! NIPPLE CONFUSION!! Then we met Charlotte and Annabelle. Perhaps these girls have a stronger and more insistent sucking instinct than most babies, or maybe Colby and I are weak, but by the time they were two days old, we were begging the nurses in the Mother & Baby ward for relief in the form of a baby plug. Both girls accepted the pacifier, and were fairly easily calmed with it for the first couple of weeks of life. By a little over a month old, Annabelle was a raging pacifier addict, but Charlotte would have nothing to do with them.
It's not that her sucking instinct had waned, it's just that she preferred to "self-soothe" on my boob. We tried three or four different styles (of pacifiers, not boobs), but she would have nothing to do with them, and her screaming rage knew no bounds. For the past three weeks, I have been completely unable to put her down for a nap for longer then 10 minutes. She would fall soundly asleep in my arms, snoring and sleep-smiling, but the second there was a gap between us large enough for a slight breeze to pass through, her eyelids would snap open, she'd glare at me reproachfully, screw up her face and let loose a howl of unspeakable fury.
So. That was fun. Then, this weekend I noticed that she was trying to stick the bill of her little duckie lovey into her mouth, and she seemed to want to suck on it. So, I grabbed Annabelle's spare pacifier, and stuck it in Charlotte's mouth. At first, she used her tongue to angrily thrust it from her person, but after a little persistence on my end, she started sucking. And then she fell asleep. In her Rock n'Play. ON HER OWN. And stayed asleep! It was nothing short of a miracle. Things have gotten a lot easier in the past couple of weeks. I've been feeling more than a little overwhelmed by the responsibility for caring for two babies on my own for the majority of the day, but things get infinitessimally easier day by day. It helps that both girls have started smiling at us intentionally and responsively now, rather than just smiley muscle spasms. It's awesome to go get them out of bed or give them a big smile, and see that toothless, gummy, open-mouthed grin in response. We've even gotten a couple of little laughs out of them.
I'm also trying to get back out into the world of functioning humans. Last week, I took the babies to a doctor's appointment on my own, and had a friend over for tea. This week, I'm flying solo to another couple of doctor's appointments (at what point will I stop feeling like I LIVE at the hospital??), and meeting a couple of friends for lunch and coffee. So, basically, I feel like Wonder Woman. Oh, and did I mention that both babies are asleep right now? At the same time? Photographic evidence--check it: Now, if only they could figure out their arms and stop spastically slapping themselves awake after 20 minutes, all would be perfect in our world.
Where shall I begin? Well, life is certainly very different now from the last time I checked in. We're getting a much better handle on how this whole parenthood thing works, though as I've learned, it's a constantly evolving process.
I'll be honest, the first month was... not great. That's a big part of the reason for the radio silence around these parts. After writing for almost two years about how much we wanted to start a family, I didn't know how to talk about the fact that I was not coping well with the reality of actually having babies. Everyone talks about how hard babies are, and I never doubted them, but there's truly nothing that can prepare you for those feelings of inadequacy, overwhelming fear of doing something wrong, and the exhaustion. OH THE EXHAUSTION. I confess, I had more than a few moments of wondering if we'd made a huge mistake.
Thank goodness my mom was here to help--making me rest and eat, cooking us dinner every night, taking shifts with crying babies. As hard as things were, it would have been infinitely harder on our own. Then, once we got through that first month, things got a little bit easier, but a horde of family descended upon us, then it was the busy holiday season, and then everyone headed back to their mouseholes, and Colby and I were left alone to figure out how to take care of two little ones on our own.
Charlotte, 4 days old
Annabelle, 1 week old
The good news is that we've managed to keep them alive--and I think happy--for ten weeks now. And as each day goes by, it gets a bit easier. They've been sleeping long stretches at night, and just getting more than three or four hours of sleep at a time makes a huge difference. On Friday night, they actually slept for nine hours straight. The odds of just one baby doing that at two months old are pretty slim--but both babies?? It felt like an actual miracle. I don't think I'd gotten that much sleep in one go since the first trimester sleep fest.
Two months old. Can you tell who's who??
I have a great deal to write about--since my last post I've visited three countries, celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary, survived the Mayan apocalypse and turned 30--2012 definitely went out with a bang! One of my New Year's resolutions was to get back to blogging on a more regular basis, and if it means taking time away from a Homeland marathon, then so be it. This little corner of the internet has seen me through my single years in the Air Force, my engagement and wedding, three moves, two puppies, a struggle with infertility, and pregnancy--I have no intention of letting it fizzle out now that there are babies to talk about! But for now, I'm going to get back to Downton Abbey. Who knows how much time I have left with two babies sleeping and a hot cup of tea? We'll chat again soon!
My hat is officially off to all mommy bloggers, everywhere. Seriously, HOW do you do it?? I've been writing posts in my head for days now, and never seem to find the time to actually write them out. During the time that I don't have babies attached to my boobs, I'm not elbow deep in diapers, and I'm semi-conscious, all I want to do is sit on the couch and stare at the tv. Or the wall. I'm not too picky.
Taken at about a week old. They already look so different to me now. (Annabelle left, Charlotte right)
So, our babies are almost two weeks old. Two weeks. That's already half of a month! They're gonna be FORTY! The days are just flying by in a big blur. I have no idea where the time goes, one minute it's the middle of the night and I'm trying to get a baby to eat. the next thing I know it's night time again. My days revolve entirely around feeding babies.
I am pretty proud of myself, because we're getting the hang of simultaneous feeding and so far, my supply has been excellent. I was able to get a hospital grade pump on loan from my hospital, and we're hoping to start bottles soon so that I can get a break from the round the clock feeding marathons. It'll still require pumping at feeding time, but I can pump, then go to bed and get some sleep before the next feeding.
Cuddly Charlotte
The girls are absolutely amazing. They're still in the sleepy phase, in part due to being born a few weeks early, so they're pretty zonked out most of the time, but they're starting to be a bit more alert and taking in more of the world around them. Night time has been something of a challenge, but so far not nearly the nightmarish experience I've heard from a lot of my friends.
The many faces of Anna-B
Annabelle is the most placid baby I have ever seen. She is quiet as a little mouse--even her fussing is barely audible. She can sleep through her sister's screaming fits like there is nothing going on. Charlotte is my spicy baby. She makes sounds like a baby velociraptor, grunts and whimpers in her sleep, snorts, and when she's upset, her temper flares up and she screams with the rage of a Banshee queen. But she's only had a couple of marathon screaming sessions, and for the most part, she'll calm down within a few minutes. The hard part is that she really just wants to be held and cuddled 24/7, which is really a problem at 1 am. And 2 am. And 3 am...
We actually had to move the girls out of our room and into their nursery at night their third day home with us, when they were only five days old. Charlotte is just too noisy, even in her sleep. I'm such a light sleeper, and it's already so hard for me to fall asleep with the perfect conditions, I couldn't fall asleep between feedings and came this close to a total breakdown. I had my very first experience with an anxiety attack. I felt like I was going to throw up, like I couldn't breathe, like I had no control over my body. It was horrible. I'm still having trouble sleeping at night, but overall, I think we're all doing much better with the current set up. We're going in tomorrow for their two week appointment and to do a weight check, but I think that they've been gaining pretty well. At last week's weight check, the doctor was concerned about Charlotte's weight gain. Annabelle had been gaining about 60 grams per day, but Charlotte was only at 25 grams per day and the minimum they want to see is 20. So, even though she's meeting the minimum, the doctor, in his blunt English Second Language way informed me that her weight gain was "no good... it is lousy". So, of course, I spent the next hour crying and feeling like a total failure. I'm optimistic about better results tomorrow. It kills me how tiny they still are in their clothes though. They're still swimming in a lot of their newborn stuff, but they are starting to fill it out a bit better. SOB!!
(right) Charlotte Cecilia born on November 3 at 12:17 am
5 lbs 12.9 oz, 18.7 in long
(left) Annabelle Claire born on November 3 at 12:22 am 5 lbs 15 oz, 19.1 in long
It's hard to believe that it has been almost a week since my beautiful daughters made their entrance into the world. I have so many stories to tell, and I feel like my world has been turned entirely upside down. We are in love, we are exhausted, we are overwhelmed, we are amazed by every little thing they do. I don't have a dramatic birth story to share. The girls are completely healthy. Breastfeeding is hard, but going well. The nights have been long, but we're finding what works for us and getting far more sleep than we were a few days ago.
Every time I look at their faces, I think about how difficult it was to create them. How each day of my pregnancy felt so surreal, as though I were living in a wonderful dream and had only to wake up to lose it all. But now they're here. With their six-day-old, already incredibly distinct personalities, and I'm falling so in love.
And now I know for sure that what I said all along held true--it was so worth the wait.
