Part 4

So where did I leave off?? Ok...

GUILT.

I felt guilty, I still feel guilty at times. I preferred one baby over the other. I had an easy baby and I had a colic baby. I mean, it was rough. This is something that still bothers me to this day. I know they won't know (gosh I hope not) but it still makes me feel guilty.

I felt guilty because I had lost 2 babies. I had cried and grieved for 2 babies. Now I had 2 babies and I was crying and resentful and angry. I wanted to be a mom... right? I wanted this. Yet I was SO sad.... this wasn't what I envisioned. No one warned me that it could be like this.

I felt guilty. I had friends who wanted to be right where I was.... a Mom. I had a healthy pregnancy. I had 2 healthy, beautiful babies. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just be happy? Why was I crying? Why was I so angry? Why wasn't this like I had imagined and dreamed?

Guilt. Guilt is mean. It is vicious. I still feel quite guilty today. I feel guilty that I am not a good mom. I feel guilty that time was "wasted" when they were born. I did not enjoy that time and it is time I can't ever get back. I feel guilty that alot of the time was spent in survival mode. I can't ever go back to them being a few weeks old. I can't get that back. I can't get time back. I can't get newborn pictures taken with a professional taken, I could have done that but I was "SO tired" and I wasn't functional, I mean I was functional in some sense but not to get anything extra done. Showers. Eat. Bathroom. Pump. Feed. Maybe sleep. I had priorities and somethings took a back seat. I can't get those moments back. I can't get the missed kisses or missed time holding them back. I can't get snuggle time back. I can't get alot of things back. EVER.

Guilt sucks. And I sometimes I feel like I suck.

I went back and read my blog posts from when I was going through the PPD hell. I remember what I was feeling as I wrote them. I remember wanting to be honest, but being afraid. Afraid people would bash me. Say well you wanted kids, you should have known. And I should have. But I didn't. I didn't know PPD would hit me. All the books say is "if you feel sad after a few days, talk to your doctor". Who feels they can call their doctor and say "Ummm...excuse me, but this isn't like I imagined. Ummm... I am angry at the world. Ummm... all I am doing is crying. You got a pill for that?" I mean, I couldn't do that. I cried in the OR after a D&C saying over and over 'I want my baby back', I got 2 babies and I was still crying. I felt that NOONE sane could do such a thing.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Bobby was "building the playroom" and made sure he was outside whenever he could be. I mean I wanted to be away too, so I can hardly blame him. Except I was SUPER pissed at him. How did he get to shirk his responsibilities? I mean, how come it was SO important to build this room (the one we are STILL in the process of doing and not to mention sat dormant for months) right now? So him escaping to the construction only made me angrier at him, myself and the girls. I was tired still.....

In the meantime, I was still working full time in a thankless job and doing almost all of the work- Cleaning, laundry, being a full time caretaker of the twins by myself most of the time, pumping, trying to function as a person, getting everything ready for them and me everyday. I know alot of women do this, but I was still angry. This was NOT how I imagined motherhood. I guess I didn't think things all the way through.

The more I cried, the angrier I got.

I was resentful. At this point most of my anger really turned towards Bobby. I even blogged about it once, but I still wasn't all the way honest. I was still crying and frustrated and hated my new life. I felt he wasn't pulling his weight, in reality he probably wasn't but he was trying to do somethings, but he didn't know what to do with infants. I chose to shut him out and just be angry. I didn't want to talk about it, cause when I did it always turned into a fight and I had better things to do than fight with him, like sleep and get ready for the next day. He of course read my messages to Kate and then did the whole "well I don't do shit" comments, which only made me angrier. It wasn't working... and I thought about leaving him. I was doing everything on my own anyway, so why have him around? All he did was get in my way and bitch that we weren't having sex. Him bitching, did not make me want to have sex any more and the less that happened, the less I think he was helping me, making me angrier and the vicious cycle continued. But anyway...

Slowly the fog started lifting.....it also coincided with them sleeping through the night and Kristin's colic stopped. Go figure. Somewhere, somehow, I was feeling better. I wasn't crying as much. Colic was almost like a light switch, one day she just stopped crying. It was amazing. The girls and I were doing better. I never took those anti-depressants. I got a prescription, I did call Dr M after my appt and told the nurse I "thought maybe" I needed something. I picked it up from the drugstore. But never took one. They are still in the medicine cabinet. They made me feel better just being in the medicine cabinet.

Around 6 months of age... things changed. I sat watching Good morning Am.erica, as I feed the girls, pumped and ate breakfast, and they reported a story of a twin girl getting kidnapped. And I cried. Cried for the first time that if someone did something to one of my kids, I would die fighting for my girls. FINALLY, I knew what it felt like to be a Mom. I finally got it. I would hurt someone if they hurt my kids. I would go to jail for doing something to someone who did something to take away my kids' innocence. Suddenly, I thought "This is how moms feel, this is it." I cried... this time tears of joy.

So here I am, 15 months after their birth. Contemplating baby #3. Would I go through all of this again? Yeah... I guess. I'd like to skip the PPD part, but the love is amazing. Being a twin mom is HARD. It is not easy and I commend the women (and men I guess) that have triplets and quadruplets and more. Cause I REALLY don't know how they do it!!!

It is hard to believe, I created the 2 cutest human beings on earth. I survived PPD. I did it. And I can talk about it. It sucked. But I think it makes me have more empathy and sympathy for people who are struggling.

I wouldn't change being a Mommy. I LOVE my girls. Somethings have happened recently and I cried thinking anything could ever happen to my babies. My girls. I have stood over the cribs and thanked God for giving them to me. For blessing me with these 2 perfect babies. I am a survivor. I have survived loss, love, and lots of other things. But admitting openly and honestly about PPD is one of the hard things, having had the feelings you have while in PPD, it is hard to admit, hard to discuss.

I love Kristin. I love Lara. I love that I am their Mah-mah. I love that they are mine. I love they are so happy to see me. I love that they can make me cry and laugh at the same time. I love all the feelings they give me. Even though times can be trying, I wouldn't change having them. I love them!

These smiles are what I live for: