Exhaustion

Stupid things I've done since the babies came home:

• Microwaved a metal can opener in an attempt to sterilize it


• Used a rubber dishwashing glove as an oven mitt


• Left the same rerun of the Big Bang Theory running in a loop on the PVR all day because I couldn't find the remote


• Walked into things so many times that my legs are covered in suspicious looking bruises


• Actually had to stop to think about how many scoops of formula I'd need to make a '12 scoop' and '6 scoop' recipe


• Called my children by the dogs' names


• Called each of my children by the other's gender

Sleep deprivation is serious business, people.  Good thing these babies are cute.

For Reid

When I finally arrived at the hospital to visit you today after a few days of staying home with your sister, I felt pretty bad.  I don't necessarily think anyone would have faulted me for not having it together enough to be spending time at the hospital with you while also figuring out how to have Madeleine at home, but at the same time, there was no question that you were getting the short end of the stick.  It wouldn't be the first time either, since I'd had to leave you before while Maddie was at Sick Kids.  But when I got there, feeling all mom-guilty about it, the nurse handed you over to me and you burrowed in immediately like usual, ready to eat like nothing happened, as if to say, meh, no hard feelings.  It was, for lack of a better term, so very Reid of you.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to admit this, but when I found out I was pregnant, I really wanted a girl.  Then, when we learned it was twins, I thought, "I really hope at least one of them is a girl".  In fact, I was completely terrified I would end up with two boys.  What would I do with two boys??!  But then, of course, you were born.  And ever since that day, I have been so, so incredibly grateful that nobody listened to my original request.

You are just one big love ball.  You weren't able to be cuddled for a while in the beginning because you needed so much help to breathe, and then when we finally did it, you soaked it all up and never looked back.  When we snuggle now you get right into every possible nook, and open your arms out wide as though you are trying to hug me back.  Even though I am more than happy to give all the love in one direction (yours), there's something that always somehow feels reciprocal.  I like to nuzzle against your face just to get you to nuzzle back, and when my hands are close by, you grab onto them.  Now that you have developed super pro star neck and head strength, you use it to pull away and stare right at me.

At the same time, you are so very impatient.  You want everything yesterday, and there is no reasoning with you if it doesn't happen.  Not only do you cry about it, but you cry about it in such a heartwrenching way - your lip quivers and your face scrunches right up - that it becomes so hard for me to remember that it's entirely okay for me to let you be upset sometimes.

Probably my favourite example of these two traits - your loveliness and impatience - is seen when you feed.  Breastfeeding is hard when your babies are born far too small to eat, but even if that hadn't happened, it wasn't something I ever envisioned enjoying.  But you are so enthusiastic - you want to eat all the time and you want it nownownowgo! - that I cannot imagine trying to take that away from you.  You get grunty and wide-eyed, and you hold on like your life depended on it.  It is pretty much the best thing ever.

I learned early on in your life, when you were taking longer than expected to come off the ventilator, that you have your own schedule.  As much as it worries and frustrates me when you have setbacks, I try to remember that it doesn't mean you are incapable - you always, always get there - but that you just need a chance to do it in your own time.  I am glad I have already been able to learn that about you, and hope that I will be able to keep it in mind as you grow (I apologize already though for the times I will forget - I think you might just get your impatience from your mother).

I am pretty sad right now that we are experiencing Madeleine's homecoming without you, because you are such an important member of our new little family.  You bring me so much joy I can hardly stand it, and there is so much love and sweetness inside of you.  I'm not quite sure how I got so lucky, but I am so glad that I did.

Come home already, would you?

Home, Part One

Since I last posted an update, an awful lot has happened.  We hit the 100 day mark in the NICU.  My due date came and went.  I turned 27.  We had meltdowns and felt like the babies would never come home.  And then, one day, just like that, we packed Madeleine into her car seat and drove home.

Truth be told, I am still adjusting to the idea that we are full-time, full-on parents.  Madeleine is home to stay, she lives here now and always will.  At the same time, Reid is still in the hospital.

Only a little while ago it looked like Reid would actually be the one to come home first.  Madeleine had always been one step ahead of Reid in terms of development, but then her surgery levelled the playing field a bit and allowed him to not only catch up, but surpass his sister.  He took off like a bolt when it came to oral feeds, but then he failed his car seat test (three times!)  Add to that a mysterious rash and a suspected tummy bug, and his discharge date got pushed back at least a week or two.  Since Madeleine was no longer in need of hospital care, she came home on her own.

Having Madeleine home has been, like everything thus far, the best and worst thing simultaneously.  But this time at least, it is the best and worst thing the way it normally is for new parents and not the way it has been under our unique NICU circumstances.  We are tired in a way that we never thought possible, anxious, snappy, and, no really, seriously, mega tired, but at the same time, it is incredible.  It is everything we'd hoped it would be, but never really thought we could have after what felt like a never-ending NICU stay.  There have been rocky moments, but in such a normal, 'all parents experience this' kind of way that even the bad parts don't seem so bad.  It is what we envisioned when we first got pregnant many moons ago.  (Although…did I mention we are really, really tired?)

When we first brought Maddie home, I started to wonder if maybe it was actually better to only have one baby home at first until we figure out what we're doing (it turns out one baby on its own is a lot of work too!).  Now though, I'm thinking that it is actually much, much worse to have one baby left in the NICU than it was to have two.  Not only is it a logistical nightmare - all the back and forth of before without actually having any free time or energy - but you also know exactly what you're missing.  I cannot wait to have Reid at home with us where he belongs.

Even though I am struggling having my son in the hospital while we get to enjoy Madeleine at home all day, it is worth remembering that the fact that she is home in the first place means that we are almost completely over the incredible hurdle that is a long-term NICU stay.  Until Madeleine came home, it still felt like we would be there forever.  Now, we know that we won't, and furthermore that this is really just the beginning of what it was always supposed to be like.  A big milestone, to say the least.