So much more

Oh. My. Gosh. So, I am finally getting to write a blog! I'm excited. And, while I wish I had hours to compose something as eloquent and moving as my husband's writing, I have babies to feed in 45 minutes. So this will be sort of stream-of-consciousness-as-much-as-I-can-remember style.

First of all, THE WAIT on their birthday was excruciating for all of us, wasn't it? Thanks for being patient. I hope the worrying didn't give you an ulcer. By the time they got to us, we were so ready to get it over with. It's a good thing I love my doctor (he is the most laid-back man ever. philip used to call my appointments "going to have a beer with dr. weiss"). Because the operating room was scary as crap. All those PEOPLE! I was all, "and what do YOU do?" I'm sure I said all sorts of inappropriate things b/c I was nervous. I found myself constantly telling everyone they were doing a good job. I think it really weirded them out. I actually told the lady who gave me an epidural that she did that really well.

So, Emory Crawford Long is a great hospital, and in many ways we got wonderful care. For example, I had a special menu that I could order meals from and they would be brought to me on a tray and cleaned up an hour later and everything. But it IS a teaching hospital. Which means every professional has a student or two in tow. The woman who gave me the epidural, for example, was a student. But I was too scared to really be scared, if that makes any sense at all. Man, those epidural/spinal combos are EFFECTIVE! I went from warm fuzzies in my legs to oh wow I'm melting into the OR table in about 3 minutes. And down I went. And up went the screen. And then here came Philip, thank God.

That Philip, he knows how to fan a girl. He fanned me for about an hour straight, so I wouldn't dry heave from all the meds running through my system. All I could say was "I love you," over and over again. We were listening so hard for babies cries. And then there they were, one after another. And oh how beautiful. And then I was just euphoric, not really caring that my organs were being pushed around by strangers. And in the recovery room, still euphoric, as Philip went back and forth between me and the babies. Even when he told me Gabe was in intermediary care, I didn't worry much b/c I knew they'd be okay. But maybe that was just the drugs. :)

And then they gave me something in case I started "feeling my incision." And it did not agree with me at all. I was dripping sweat, even though my temp was on the cold side, and I felt like I'd taken a bunch of cold medicine. They said my vitals were fine, but I felt like I might die. By the time they moved us to the mother-baby room were we would spend the rest of our time there, I was dry heaving like crazy. Not a good thing when you've just been cut open. I was delirious and had not seen my babies but for a second. So when they finally brought them in and asked us did we want to keep them in our room, I had to say no. Because I was in NO shape to meet them for the first time. And that was so hard, to send them away.

I thought we'd get a good night sleep and be better in the morning. But that's b/c I'd never stayed in a hospital. Apparently there IS no night in a hospital. Every couple of hours they were coming in to check on me. They made me get up to pee at 4 in the morning! That's a whole nother level of pain- being awakened by bright lights and a stranger at 4am and told to get up and go pee while they watch. They brought us the babies again, and I think we kept them that time, but that time is kind of a blur. I didn't feel together until half way through Wednesday.

And Wednesday sucked. Except for meeting the most beautiful babies ever. I'm telling y'all, their skin is GORGEOUS. And they smell soooooo good. And they make the sweetest noises. I dive in every time I hold them. And when they look at you! Anyway, Wed. was our worst day.

Breastfeeding. It's really way more of a big deal than I thought, even though people tried to warn me. I thought I had it down, even nursed them both at the same time. Then the lacatation police came in with their entourage. Now, I don't know how much you know about lactation specialists, but they're basically hard core hippie types who are REALLY passionate about breastfeeding. We saw one every day of our stay. The first one was the worst. It was her way or the highway, and me and the babies were getting pretty stressed, which is not conducive to breastfeeding (which is way more painful at first than I ever thought). Then the neonatalogist from hades came in to tell me if I couldn't feed them right then they probably wouldn't be able to go home with us on Friday. At which point I started bawling to the extent that I could not speak. She left, and the lactation police tried to comfort me, but I could not be consoled.

Until my friends Carolina and Julie showed up and helped me process it all. And then Maddy choked and turned blue and had to be rushed out. And then a man came with flowers. And all this happened in about an hour. If it wasn't for percoset, I might've had an aneurism.

Yeah, Wednesday was rough. But, toward the end of the day we got a really good nurse who insisted I take the right amount of pain meds so I wasn't so miserable. And I did. And then I felt better and was able to take a shower and indulge my OCD and straighten the hospital room while Philip snoozed.

Thursday was a day of poking and prodding for the babies, which is really hard for new parents. Especially crazy hormonal ones.

And then it was Friday and we were still wondering, b/c of the devil's neonatalogist, would we be able to take our beautiful ones home with us? So MY doctor came and looked at me and said YES you may leave. And we were waiting, waiting... And then a NEW, sassier pediatrician in great shoes came like an angel from heaven, exclaiming all over the place about how great Gabe and Maddy looked and of COURSE we would take them home. And before we knew it, we were putting them in their carseats and driving home.

Okay. This is so long. But I haven't blogged bit by bit so that's my excuse, and if you're still reading you must really care about us so thank you for that. We came home to find my parents waiting. What joy to see them meet the babies! Just look at the pic if you don't believe me. I mean, those are some happy grandparents! But I have to say, that first night home was ROUGH. Apparently, some women are really tired after giving birth, and some are manic. Guess which one I was. I was rushing around like a crazy person. Some arguments were had, and I realized quickly that raising twins is very much about doing your best to meet your needs AND your babies' needs. I wish I could say Saturday was better, but it was more of the same. Not that we haven't had a good time! For example, one of the highlights has been the whole extended family beat boxing to my breast pump! Another highlight was when Maddy pooped all over her clothes, blanket, AND our bedspread before her first bath! But it's just that every day since we've been home, we've turned a corner, only to find a new corner to turn the next day.

It's all a matter of scheduling. Here's a math equation for you: if you have two babies that you have to feed every three hours for 30 minutes a piece, how much time do you have to eat, sleep, bathe, chill out, etc? Right now we have a very tight schedule that I am very proud of. With the help of the more sane, less hormonally challenged people in the house, we've figured out a way to do this without any supplemental formulas at all. This is a pure breastfeeding operation, which is a miracle with twins. The only conundrum is that Philip and I have very little time together. What we've found today is that there is a beautiful window when he's just come home from work and I've just bathed and fed the babies and we can just BE a FAMILY for a few hours before I go to sleep.

One more thing. I was not prepared for all the focus on elimination. We actually have to log each feeding and diaper in detail. What time did they eat? What did they eat? How much? Was there pee in their diaper? Was their poo? What color and texture was their poo? Crazy.

Last bit: The babies are so interesting to me, of course. Their little personalities are already starting to show. The lactation police woman (who is a hippie, remember) said he seemed like a SENSITIVE person, whereas she strikes her as a CAREFUL person. All this from how they draw milk from my breasts. But they really are cute. You have to see them. Come by. But call first, unless you want to experience indecent exposure.

Okay, really last bit: A BIG SHOUT OUT to my Love Philip, who wore himself out caring for all three of us in the hospital. I actually got tired of the nurses talking about how great a father he is already. Talk about stating the obvious. And, of course, he is still taking care of us. And has managed to return to work as well. And another BIG SHOUT OUT to my parents, who have been amazing. They have tolerated my hormones and us learning how to be a family so well. In fact, I think they could go into business doing this. Supporting new parents. Mom has been cooking and baking every day. Dad is a professional burper. I really could not have asked for more. It means so much to be able to share this time with them. I'm tearing up just thinking about it. Duh.

That's all the time I have. Time to milk the cow! :) Sorry for the length. Whew. I feel purged.