A year with twins - what it is and what it is not

 I thought a Birthday Eve reflection post would be appropriate after the year we had..

What it is

Very strangely, when my babies wake up, they'll no longer be infants.  It seemed like they were in the NICU for so long, with me wishing they would just get a little bigger each day so I could take them home, and now I look at them and don't see baby-babies anymore.  There are some people that this would make them sad, but I have been looking forward to seeing what kind of people my girls become since they were just a twinkle in their Daddy's eye.

So right now, it's healthy, 20-ish pound babies

3 and 4 teeth (and still teething)

Some hair (but not a lot...)

Crawling everywhere

Pulling to kneel

Weight-baring on feet to stand

Belly laughs

Separation anxiety

Weekly physical therapy

Weekly early intervention

Yearly eye doctor appointments

Bi-annual NICU follow ups

Some good naps

Bad bedtimes, but a full night of sleep

Pointing (and mommy nose-picking)

Hands full all day

Rolling during diaper changes

Flopping around during baths

Always having a basket of laundry floating around

So-so on the finger foods

Very limited spit ups

Snuggly when we're sleepy

Taking forever to pack the diaper bag and extra bags to go anywhere

Lots of babbling

Lots of exploring

What it isn't

This isn't the year we expected - not that we really knew being first time parents, but people can't really warn you what it will be like having twins; it's just something you need to experience.  And no one knew we'd be in a pandemic a YEAR later - I wouldn't have anticipated basically never leaving my house, or being afraid of exposing my children to a deadly disease any time I brought them anywhere...

But the number one thing this year has NOT been is Easy

We mostly don't know what we're doing

But

No medication beyond vitamins

No standing

No walking

No real words

No lasting eye damage

No lasting cardio-pulmonary issues

No apparent effects of brain hemorrhaging

No sisterly sharing of toys

No real waving

No ASL (signing)

No drinking water/out of cups

Not easily transporting babies anywhere

We're behind on milestones for 12 months, and even some for 10 months, but we make progress every day.  It's still hard and I either cry or scream into a pillow at least once a day.  Working on top of it all and Grant being basically MIA in the evenings just means I have a lot to juggle.  I know people will say, oh you're super mom!  I really think anyone would be, what else could you do when you don't have the option to fail?  You just bend over backwards and kill yourself to make it work.

I had written this a while back and I wasn't sure if I would post it, but I figured I would write it and think about it this once, and then move on.  We're so far beyond what a traumatic experience the girls had coming into this world, and while I will forever be jealous of anyone who had a 'normal' experience, the less it has an impact when you are further removed:

 I would imagine that the day a mother welcomes her babies into this world would be the happiest days of her life, but I don't think I will ever think that about March 30th.  I wouldn't say it was the worst day - that might have been the night of a routine ultrasound when our MFM doctor thought we had twin to twin transfusion syndrome and only an 80% chance of successfully delivering both girls.  Or the day we went for an MRI at CHOP and learned the girls had brain hemorrhaging.  On March 30th, 2020, I worried for 12 hours, wondering if my premature babies had grown enough in 30 weeks, if the steroids I was given would help their lungs breathe on their own, if the growth discrepancy hadn't been too great, if the amniotic fluid discrepancy hadn't caused too much damage...

When I went in for my emergency c-section, I had an hour of wondering what my babies looked like, when could I hold them, what kind of interventions were being done to them without me.  And instead of holding my husband's hand, I held on to the anesthesiologist's while I tried not to choke on vomit.  It would be almost a full 24 hours between the time of their delivery and when I got to see them.  I feel like most people probably take it for granted that they'll have a fresh newborn plopped on their chest after delivery.  I take it for granted that they were born with 10 fingers and 10 toes each, that they were even born at all.  

I'm not sure who I shared this with (if anyone), but I overheard the nurses in the NICU one day talking about a mom of triplets.  I'm not sure how early they came, but one was born at home, one was born on the way to the hospital, and one was born at the hospital.  Only the one born at the hospital had survived and was in the NICU, but the prognosis was not good.  The mother couldn't bring herself to have multiple funerals for her babies (and this was in April, so there was also a pandemic raging...), and was basically waiting for the third baby to pass so they would all be together.  

So much crap has been stacked against us.  Twins is hard enough.  Any premature baby is hard enough.  Having any baby during a pandemic is hard enough.  We hit the dumpster fire trifecta.

And on that note, it's after midnight, and officially March 30, 2021