The Retrospective Continues (now with 1432% more words)
Editor’s Note: I wrote the following about a month ago, and completely forgot to post it. So as you read it, imagine it’s May 1st, the Cavs are still in the playoffs, and I’m about five pounds lighter.
Believe it or not, my daughters Madeline Rose and Molly Marie are over one month old and collectively weigh over 17 pounds. The girls, in addition to their primary roles as nexuses of cuteness, have provided a legitimate excuse for my sporadic posting, as opposed to my usual excuse of general laziness. Still, y’all have sent so many messages of congratulation and have posed so many questions that I’ve carved out a bit of time to provide some answers. Here goes, in no particular order:
1) How are the kids, and how is Elizabeth?
I’m fine, thanks for asking. Madeline and Molly are both very healthy, perpetually hungry and very, very long. They have outgrown clothing they haven’t even worn yet. They just keep…expanding…which is amazing. Do you love giant feet? Together my kids have four of them. They are like little burritos, the kind you would purchase at a hypothetical Baby Chipotle.
We’ve been blessed with two beautiful children with sound minds and bodies, and believe me, we are fully aware of how incredibly fortunate we are. Still, that will not stop me from complaining about the 3 a.m. feedings in a moment.
As for Elizabeth, good lord, what can I say? Here’s a woman who began her pregnancy with placenta previa, then found out she was having twins, sending her into high-risk territory, then enjoyed gestational diabetes, then had super high blood pressure and had to take maternity leave early, and in the end enjoyed a ruptured placenta that forced an emergency c-section.
Awe-inspiring, isn’t it? I feel guilty just thinking about calling in sick. And just ten days after child extraction, she was caring for the kids by herself while I went back to work. I may be tired all the time, but it’s nothing compared to what she’s going through. The stress is staggering. If you get a chance, give a Elizabeth a high-five or a warm handshake. She’s more than earned it.
2) Can you tell the twins apart? Are they developing personalities yet? Are they “aware” of each other?
They are dizygotic (not monozygotic AKA identical) and it’s pretty easy to tell them apart. I wouldn’t say they’ve developed personalities yet, rather, a few unique behaviors. Madeline is, generally, calmer than Molly. If both kids are hungry and beginning to fuss, and I can only feed one child at a time, I’m going to feed Molly first – she’s almost certainly going to freak out before Madeline. Madeline has a killer “fake” smile she unleashes randomly – fake because one-month-olds aren’t supposed to be able to produce “real” smiles yet. You’ll have to trust me as we’ve been unable to capture it to a digital photo. Molly has a head shake when a pacifier or bottle approaches her face. Madeline likes to revert to “womb” style fetal positioning when you pick her up. Molly has the louder cry. Maddy is the more proficient burper. The list goes on.
What they have in common, thankfully, is their schedules. Them ladies be synchronized. 4 ounces of milk and/or formula every 3.5 hours. Molly has gained more weight (from 5 pounds 8 ounces to 9 pounds even) than Maddy (from 5 pounds 4 ounces to 8 pounds 11 ounces). Molly is getting…not pudgy…but she’s definitely acquiring some baby fat and an healthy double chin. Maddy’s still fairly thin and noticeably lighter, but she’s longer than Molly by a few centimeters.
Are they aware of each other? I’d love to say yes, but honestly, I haven’t seen any evidence of it. We’ve put them right next to each other, faced their heads together, forced them to touch hands, and they haven’t really formed a connection yet. When they are separated, there’s no observable panic. One of them can be screaming at the top of her lungs, and the other will just sleep through it as if nothing is happening.
3) Are you getting any sleep?
I’m going to answer this question three ways.
First Answer: Here’s a special message to all my readers who complain about the rigors of taking care of only one baby. Sissies. You’re all a bunch of sissies. I don’t want to hear so much as a muttered grumble until you’ve spent a week caring for twins or higher-order multiples.
DISCLAIMER: I know that isn’t true. The scope of the child care is a matter of perspective. It’s hard no matter what. However, when I’m soloing a 2:30 a.m. feeding, and I get through 1/4 of a bottle of the first twin, and I realize I’ve got the rest of this bottle and an ENTIRE OTHER CHILD to change and feed, well, you can just taste the despondency in the air.
Second Answer: You know how on “Lost”, the castaways have to enter numbers on an Apple IIe every 108 minutes, or the island will blow up or something? Living with newborn twins is very similar. Every 180 minutes, if I don’t change and feed the kiddies, there will be screaming. That’s a far worse fate than the island blowing up, especially now that the kiddies have fully functional lungs. If I’m soloing, it takes a solid hour to change and feed them. That leaves two hours before the next round, assuming the kids don’t need to be calmed down. Then there’s cleaning the bottles, laundering the bibs and soiled garments, and picking up toys and bouncy chairs. So maybe you’ve got 90 minutes of downtime, assuming you don’t “play” with the kids and use the time for yourself.
This is challenging for me, a guy who’s previous non-work time management plan was “do whatever I feel like at any given moment” and “extreme chronic laziness.” Responsibility is hard.
Elizabeth and I are exhausted. Perpetually. We used to dream about weeks-long vacations to exotic locales across the Earth as the ultimate luxury. Now our dream is to drop the kids off at the grandparents and come straight home for a decent night’s sleep. Sad, we are.
Third Answer: Here’s a photographic timeline of my personal fatigue level. To form a baseline, here’s a picture of me a couple months prior the girls’ birth. While the youthful vigor I’m projecting could be attributed to the waffles I’m standing in front of (mmm…waffles) it’s fairly representative of my appearance at the time:
Now, here’s a shot of me two weeks into fatherhood. Notice the substantial double chin I’m forming, the blackish semi-circles under my eyes, and the ravine-like lines that have formed on my forehead:
Finally, this picture was taken of me just moments ago:
You be the judge. Am I getting enough sleep?
4) Gee, Colonel, is there anything GOOD about being a parent?
Honestly, I can’t say I really feel like a parent. In a literal sense, Elizabeth and I are more like caretakers than parents. There’s not much to parent yet, really. But more than that, I don’t think the enormity of all this has sunk in yet. There’s no “switch” that gets flipped in my brain that makes me feel like a parent. Hints exist, though. When they manage to make eye contact, well, that’s everything. And yesterday, they went one better; I came home from work, got between the kids, and said hello. Both kids simultaneously turned their heads, looked up at me, and locked eyes. That, right there, makes all the suffering worthwhile. That’s why we’re doing it. That’s why we’re out here.
And that’s all for now! I’ve used up my free time for the month. More later, where later is defined as “sometime in the future.” Cheers!
