First comes the full-term birth, then comes preemie

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I think I am so lucky to have had a wonderful birth experience before the girls’ c-section for so many reasons.

One of my dear friends went into labour Thursday and we were messaging each other back and forth as her labour progressed and it brought so many memories back to my birth with the kid. I still remember the first contraction, the drive to the hospital, and how close we were to having him in the lobby of the hospital. Jas and I were just talking about his birth last night; how I pretty much had to keep my legs crossed so he wouldn’t pop out before they were ready to catch him.

What is particularly great is that I can relate and talk about the birth. If my section had been my first, I would have no idea how it’s “supposed” to go. No idea about back labour (super fun!), contractions, and the fabulous water breaking (or in my case, exploding). Of course, I could listen and ask her about it, but would have nothing to offer in return.

So many preemie mums, and even some full-term, don’t get to experience a natural birth, and I feel extremely lucky that I did. Yup, lucky. Sure, it hurts, but it was such a surreal experience and it’s become a family story between Jas and I. We don’t talk much about the girls’ birth yet. We will, but it’s just too soon.

I don’t think I was ever a worry wart mum. After we got the feeding under control, I could not get out of the house enough and I feel the same with the girls. They spent the beginning of their lives stuck in a tiny hospital room. I want to talk to them about the birds chirping, I want them to feel the wind and rain, and one day sooner than we’d like, the snow. I want them to see colours and meet new people. I want them to make friends and read stories and just be normal. I can’t keep them, or me, in a bubble.

If they had been born first, I don’t know if I would be different. Most first-time parents are anxious, and let’s be honest, a bit nutty, but I don’t think I was ever like that. Who knows though if things had been reversed, maybe I would always picture their teeny two pound bodies, or worry about germs, infections, and people.

We are so lucky to have three gorgeous children. And despite it all, I am so lucky to have experienced both kinds of births. As my husband tells me, that c-section saved our girls lives, and really, that’s all that matters.

We’re seven months old!

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Ella and Raegan, 7 months, August 7, 2014

Well, it’s official; the girls are closer to their first birthday than their birth. I can’t believe how fast time has gone and how far our entire family has come.

Raegan spends 90% of her time on her tummy and looks like she is DYING to crawl. I would not be surprised if one day I look over and she’s on her way towards the door. She sat up on her own for about 20 seconds then face planted, but she loves sitting up. Unfortunately, she’s still a crabby crab and doesn’t have a ton of interest in her bottle but loves cereal. She’s still smaller than Ella, but we don’t head to the doctor until next week to find out her actual weight.

Ella is doing better every day. She is not a massive fan of her tummy time but hangs out longer now than before. She was tilting a lot when sitting in the bumbo but has been better the last couple of days. She can’t sit on her own but she’ll get there one day. Neurosurgery continues to just monitor her, and we are waiting for home care physiotherapy for her. She is quite the babbler and loves to be flown through the air. She still giggles when I change her, and loves getting raspberries on her belly.

This month will have more adventures. I’m off with Raegan tomorrow to check on her murmur and we’re going to cap off the summer with a 10 hour car ride to Chicago!

This would be a lot easier if….

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On Sunday, Jason worked alllll day (he left before 8:30 AM and didn’t get home until midnight) so I was home with the kids. The weather was awful so we were stuck inside and had some rough moments throughout the day.

I caught myself thinking at one point that it would be so much easier with just one baby.

Well, duh.

Obviously if we had just had one baby and Braeden, things would be different. Getting out of the house by myself would be easier. Just one baby to feed and change and prepare for.

Of course, if we’re going to play that game; it would be so much easier if Ella didn’t have her injury, if we didn’t have multiple doctor visits every month.

And really, it would be so much easier if we just had Braeden, or you know, no kids at all!

Easy, yes, but parenting, like life, isn’t easy. I cannot imagine my life without the kids. Sure, sometimes I fantasize about soaking up the sun on a beach by myself, but I would miss the shit out of the three musketeers.

Nothing about our girls has been easy, except – caution, cheesiness on the way – loving them. The pregnancy, birth, NICU time, and transition home have been hard. But, then, watching Buds become a big brother is amazing, and it’s hilarious when he tries to burp us like the girls. Seeing Jason outnumbered by girls (four total with the furball) is sweet and his insistence the girls will never wear make-up is just adorable.

Yes, sometimes it would be easier if we just had one newborn, but honestly, where’s the fun in that?

Safe Sleep: Reducing the Risk of SIDS | Twiniversity

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My second blog for Twiniversity is a much more serious one than my first. I have to say, nothing bothers me as much as seeing other parents post pictures of their wee babes surrounded by bumpers, blankets, and stuffed animals when they’re sleeping. It actually scares me and when I see those pictures, I just hope that nothing happens. Most likely nothing will, but of course, would you take the chance?

If you ever read comments people post on sleeping articles and recommendations, you will inevitably come across people who SWEAR their kids cannot sleep laying flat or that their reflux is too brutal or that they only sleep on their tummies. And, you know, I get it. I’ve been sleep deprived, too. When the girls first came home, they sometimes ended up in bed with us so I could get at least a bit of sleep. I had always sworn I’d never do that and stopped as soon as I adjusted to the sleep deprivation. I admit that it was purely for my own convenience and I always question when babies can “only” sleep in their rock and plays or bouncy chairs. Is it that when they’re put down to sleep, they cry and are immediately picked up and put in their favourite chair where they don’t cry? If a baby is allowed to get used to something and it gets taken away, of course there’s going to be a transition.

There really is no right answer. You can do everything you’re supposed to, and it could still happen to you and it’s sad and it’s horrible, but let’s remember that with the back to sleep campaign, deaths attributed to SIDS dropped 50%. I only hope that one day we can lower that number further so less parents experience the devastating loss of a child.

http://twiniversity.com/2014/07/safe-sleep-reducing-the-risk-of-sids/

29 Weeks

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To most people, 29 weeks doesn’t mean much. More than six months but less than a year, it actually seems kind of arbitrary. Of course, for us, 29 weeks is ever present in our lives.

Our girls were born at 29 weeks, 5 days gestation, so close to our 32 week expectation and nowhere near our dream of a regular 40 week pregnancy.

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29 weeks! No idea how soon we'd meet our sweet girls

Today marks 29 weeks since the girls were born, and what an insane ride it has been. From that first terrifying day; the girls so small and without any cries, to the smiles and giggles of today, we have been on a journey that has tested us as individuals and as a family. I feel like I’ve both aged and matured years, of course, the influx of gray slowly taking over my hair doesn’t help me feel young and vibrant.

From 80 days in the NICU to visits to the park, zoo, and most exciting of all, the grocery store, our girls have made our lives more exciting, though busy. Even Buds has gone from a baby to a little man since they’ve been born. It hasn’t always been perfect, but it’s been pretty awesome.

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About to get wheeled down for my section. January 7, 2014

I never would have believed it at the time, but the NICU wounds are no longer fresh in my mind as they are being replaced by our new memories and adventures. With each new day, each new bout of giggles and walk in the stroller, the NICU seems further and further away. Of course, some things are ever present like the phone call telling us Ella might not make it and our constant worries about her and my c- section scar, a physical reminder of our traumatic birth and long-winded story.

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Ella and Raegan, week 29, day 200

I can’t believe how far we’ve come in such a short time, I can only imagine that in another 29 weeks, the girls will be doing even more incredible things, and our physical and emotional scars will have faded just a bit more.

One for the money, two for the show

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I think I may have finally recovered from our super eventful Monday.

Ella and I spent the day together at Sick Kids visiting the orthopaedic surgeon and getting a hip ultrasound. The good news after spending the day running from one part of the hospital to another is that Miss Ella does not need hip surgery (wooooooooo) though she does have a bit of tightness on her right side. We don’t go back for another six months.

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Ella, exhausted from the poking and prodding, day 192

We both came home pretty exhausted to find Buds not feeling well. As soon as he saw me he wanted a hug and literally felt like he was on fire. He refused to eat and laid, totally still on the couch, looking so sad. Braeden is never sick and when we took his temperature, he was almost 40 degrees (104 F). So, I ran around grabbing some of his favourite stuffed friends and off we went back to Sick Kids, this time to the ER.

I have never seen him so little looking, and Jas and I were both pretty scared for our little man. Thankfully, some meds and a couple of stickers later, our boy was back. It’s taken almost the whole rest of the week but he is back to himself, though still a bit tired.

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Showing off his dimple!

We spent so much time in Sunnybrook that it began to feel like home, and I would be happy to never see Sick Kids again, but, sigh, we’re back next week.

Mama breaks the rules

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Every now and then the baby rules change. It used to be that solids were started at four months and parents were supposed to follow a pretty strict cereal to purées guideline before eventually starting teeny tiny pieces of food. Then it was six months to start the whole feeding dance and now it’s six months, minus the purées.

I would assume that these directives come about after research and studies are done to see the best possible outcome for wee tikes.

Normally I follow the rules and do the shots, increase formula intake every month, wash the clothes in baby laundry. With Buds, we started almost exactly at six months with solids and never had a feeding problem with him. 

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Raegan's first cereal! Day 194; July 18, 2014

But, oh Miss Raegan, what a sassy lady she is. For the past week she has been so pissed at the world, and I guess, at us. Up until midnight watching baseball with Dad between period crying.

Two pediatricians told us she was ready for solids, and I pushed back, mumbling about the guidelines, but they said she was ready, point blank. So, I thought about it and after her week, I got some cereal and shovelled it into her. She loved it. She has eaten her entire bowl and didn’t do the usual spitting out or grimacing face. She is a born eater, anticipating the food and opening up for the ooey gooey goodness. It’s hilarious to see and I can finally say that she’s sleeping, in her crib.

It seems my girls already love breaking rules so God help us all when they’re 16.

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Raegan chowing down, day 195

The crying game

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I doubt there is a single parent out there who appreciates the unsolicited baby advice that gets flung their way.

One of my favourite stories was the time Buds was around 14 months and we were quickly grabbing a few things in the grocery store before heading to dinner with a friend. Upon seeing Braeden’s flailing and crying at being strapped into his umbrella stroller, the cashier argued with me that he was obviously tired and needed to go to bed. Even when I explained he just wanted out of the stroller and to eat, she flat out told me I was wrong. Umm, thanks, but I think I’ve got my own kid figured out. Sure enough, as soon as I took him out and got food into him, he was a happy camper.

I’ve definitely heard some doozies since having the girls, but the new thing seems to be crying. I was at the grocery store with all three of the kids and was at the cash waiting to pay. Raegan started crying which I suspected had to do with the fact that we were standing still and she was tired. Not even thirty seconds into her cry, someone in the store asked me if they should pick her up and comfort her, you know to help me out.

No, you crazy woman, I do not want a complete stranger taking my kid out of her carseat to “comfort her.” In fact, if you could stay at least four feet away from my babies at all times, that would be great.

I know no one wants to hear a baby cry, with the exception of course of their first one, but, and I know this is shocking to some people, babies cry. A lot. That’s pretty much their way of expressing any opinion, and, yup, it’s normal.

Since having the girls I’ve heard from several people that they “just can’t stand when babies cry. I don’t know how you do it.” Passive aggressive mom shaming aside, I don’t like my kids crying either, but I have three of them, and yup, sometimes they all cry at once. My head could explode, or I could calmly assess which kid needs what first and deal with it from there. If upon hearing my baby cry each time, I flung my arms in the air and yelled “Stop everything! We have a crying baby here!” well, let’s just say, shit wouldn’t get done. In fact, I might still be in some random aisle of the grocery store, shushing my kids and rocking them to sleep.

So, to recap; babies cry. Believe me, they cry. I know why they cry and you telling me they’re hungry doesn’t help, especially if they’ve just eaten. Your pitying looks and so-called helpful suggestions do nothing to comfort them or me. And to be honest, I’m not much concerned if you have to hear them cry for two minutes, I’m more interested in my babies’ opinions of me than I am of yours.

Of course, if the crazy lady wants to come over at 3 AM and comfort my crying babies, I could be down for that. Just don’t tell me that they need to eat.

When did we all become assholes?

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They say chivalry is dead, which may be true, but in so many ways, it just feels like human decency is.

The other day, I hopped on the subway with Ella to take her to her appointment at Sick Kids. Driving down there is a massive pain and parking is ridiculous, so I find the subway easier. Don’t worry, my double stroller quickly morphs into a single so I don’t take up more space than the average stroller.

We got on and the train was pretty full. I stood next to the door. Ella began crying and I knew right away she was hungry. So as we shuffled along to the next station, I got her bottle ready and started feeding her, using the stroller for support. A couple stations down, someone got up, and I figured I’d grab the seat and finish feeding her. Nope. A guy who was probably about 25 grabbed the seat without batting an eye.

I wish I could say that things like that are rare, but it’s just not true. I can count on one hand the amount of times I was offered a seat on the subway during BOTH my pregnancies. When Jas and I went to New York, I always got a seat. In NEW YORK, a city that is supposedly full of self obsessed people too into their New Yorkers, or cell phones, to bother acknowledging another human being, let alone offer preggos their seats. Meanwhile in Canada, I got the averted gaze, the race to the free seat.

I get it. We’re so worried about offending people. No one wants to lose the pregnant or just fat gamble. And some may argue feminism means the equality of the sexes, so men shouldn’t have to give up their seats, but really it’s not feminism so much as equal poor treatment of all, no matter age, sex, or physical ability.

I remember reading a debate between two people arguing both sides of the seat offer. One side said the day of pregnancy catering is over, while the other argued that it should happen. Some pregnant women float around, feeling great, and gain all of four pounds – just tummy weight! So, fine, stand on the subway and cram your teeny bump with the masses, but an offer should be made. It doesn’t mean it will always be accepted, but you never know if that pregs is feeling sick or overwhelmed or just plain fat, and that older woman may have a bad back, so just asking if she’d like your seat could be a huge relief.

Of course, it goes beyond the subway, and life above ground is no better. I used to think that I took up more space, so I would always stand off to the side, letting others pass and hold the door open for others. But I just got so sick of the attitude I would get; the lack of thank yous or even a sign that you appreciate me standing here doing something nice for you. Now, I just barrel through on my turn, and you better get out of the way. I say excuse me, but still get rolled eyes and annoyed looks that I actually need space on the sidewalk, so you and your 8 friends can’t all walk arm in arm.

A couple weeks ago, the five of us were at the store and I was just getting into the cash to pay, my hands full. An older man looked at us, said excuse me, and went in front of us to the cash. When Jas called him out on it, he just said, “I know, sorry.” So you knowingly cut in front of us to pay because you are just more important than us? At Jason’s outrage, I told him it had happened before. There’s been a few times where a man has given me the once over, deemed me just a mum, and done something obviously socially inappropriate, because, why? Their time is more important than mine? Yes, I’m not on a lunch break and don’t need to rush back to an office, but I’m far from on my own schedule. All three of my kids need to eat and sleep on their schedule. We can go from 0 to 60 in the blink of an eye. Would you rather that I quickly get in and out or would you prefer to listen to two infants scream and a toddler throw a tantrum?

I really can only hope that my three children grow up with grace, intelligence, manners, and empathy. Although really, I’ll just be happy if they aren’t assholes.

We’re six months old!

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Ella and Raegan, July 7, 2014

Well that six months went by in a flash, and crazy to think we’re halfway to their first birthday already!

The girls are three and a half months corrected and six months actual. Raegan is rolling onto her belly constantly but can’t figure out how to roll back, so flops around a bit like a fish, which is kind of hilarious. Ella has only rolled over once, but she did it!

Both girls are about twelve and a half pounds and wearing 3-6 month outfits. I’ve already had to put away about three boxes worth of sleepers and teeny tiny onesies.

We’re still pretty busy; zoo visits, trips to the park, outings with friends, and of course all of our doctor appointments and Ella’s exercises. We even got the girls’ passport photos done for a potential trip to Chicago to visit friends and meet the girls’ future BFF.

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Raegan's passport photo!

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Ella's passport photo!

Sleep is getting a bit better, with the girls waking up once either in the night or early morning or they sleep through entirely. The trick now is to get them on the same schedule!