Last Monday, eight days ago, I ventured into my OB/GYN for a routine appointment and pre-op conversation on my upcoming C-section, which was scheduled for October 16. I was 37 weeks pregnant with twin boys and nervous and excited for another week to get ready.
Well, as they say, life doesn't care about your plans! My blood pressure tested high so, instead of risking complications, I was told to pack my bags (of course we hadn't packed yet) and head to the hospital for some tests and, most likely, birth. I was scared yet excited yet shocked. Was I ready? What is this going to be like? Were they going to send us home to wait longer or was tonight the night? I couldn't wrap my head around any of this.
Well that night was the night -- at 2:52 and 2:53 a.m. my sons were born via C-section and weighed 5.9 and 5.12 lbs. Running on adrenaline, fear, flight or fight, among other things my husband and I spent the next four days in the hospital trying to figure out how to be parents ... I don't think we'll ever figure it out.
After those four days, my mother-in-law spent the next three days with us while we tried to get accustomed to living at home with two helpless, little babies we created (I still can't believe they are our children). She helped us get some sleep (hardly any but every little bit counts) and figure out handle the hardest thing we've ever done in our lives.
It hasn't been easy. It includes hardly any sleep (and when I can sleep {i.e. sleep when they sleep} not being able to sleep), hormonal meltdowns including one lasting a few hours involving sobbing and being ready to run for the hills, poopy diapers, formula, breastmilk, pumps, stress, fatigue ... I could go on.
Well, considering I have 47 minutes until they need to feast again, I will blog later.
Embrace the chaos.
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