Instead of catching up on some much needed sleep, I am wide awake and on the computer for the second time in two weeks. Considering I spend every waking moment either on my laptop or reading a book, this is quite a change. There are so many things I want to do that just aren't getting done. I really do want to fill out the baby books, and upload pictures and write thank-you notes and all sorts of stuff.
And it's okay. I have to keep telling myself that. It's going to be okay. People get through this part all the time. Bad mommies get through this part, so I'm sure I can do it too.
A day after we brought the babies home, Savannah (baby A) gave me such a scare that we rushed her to the ER in the driving rain. She just wouldn't wake up, wouldn't eat and was very lethargic. It reminded me of the sheep that I had bottle-fed earlier this year that upon weaning, starved to death because he just wouldn't eat grass (I felt awful, because I had joked that he was practice for the twins). The entire ride to the hospital, I was hysterical. My husband insisted on going all the way back to the place I delivered because the local hospitals weren't good enough. My mother-in-law and close friend from church met us there. We only waited a few minutes before being taken back into triage.
Then I felt like the worlds biggest moron, because Savannah woke up squalling after getting violated with the rectal thermometer. Not that I blame her, mind you. The doctor looked her over and said that she looked good, was back up to her birth weight and was just a lazy baby. So apparently I named the girls all wrong, I named Heather after her father because the entire pregnancy she was the one kicking, bouncing around and being a general pain in my ass. As it turns out, Savannah has been the problem child. She wouldn't breastfeed, making me feel like a complete and total failure.
I had a pretty bad case of the baby blues not long after we brought the babies home. Hubby really stepped up to the plate and took over when I really just...couldn't. He took over feeding Savannah because it would just frustrate the hell out of me that she wouldn't eat. What kind of crackpot mom am I that cant feed her kid?
My mom-in-law was also a great help. She noticed I wasn't feeling right and was very supportive, as usual. She is a wonderful person and such an inspiration to me. Once I realized that I didn't have to do everything by myself and that it was okay to lean on others for support, I felt much better. My advice for anyone with the baby blues is to be open with someone you trust about your feelings, that way you have a way to get it off your chest and someone else can keep an eye out for post-partum depression. A couple good naps and a few hours out of the house made everything all better.
We had doctors appointments at week one and week two, they're doing well. I like the doctor, she was the one that first saw signs of my husbands cancer, but I don't really feel that she's comfortable with babies. I took MIL on the second appointment and she asked her a bunch of questions that seemed to kinda stump her, so I'm going to take them to an actual pediatrician.
Savannahs' eating better, most of the time. She has a game she likes to play when she's not really very hungry. She'll suck on the bottle and fill her mouth then spit it all out.
We still have days and nights mixed up and I can tell it's really starting to wear on my husband. He's still in so much pain, which worries him. He made himself an appointment with the oncologist, so I know he's not feeling well. Last night, we just couldn't get them to calm down. They were fed and dry, but wouldn't stop crying. We had to put them in their room and just close the door. I felt awful.
But it's going to be okay. Right?
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