Friday, November 12, 2010

100 posts and two 15 month olds later

This is my 100th post! And here we are: a happy little family of 4! The battles and struggles to get here are not forgotten, but have made me the person I am today. That could be good or bad, I guess depends on who you ask. But anywho...

So instead of the last PPD post, I decided to do a post on my girls.

Today we went to the dr. for their 15 month appt. He said they were "perfect and healthy" and that is all that matters. They are already doing some 18 month milestones so we are moving along.

Kristin is 20 lbs 8 oz (10th percent) 29 1/2 in (10th) and 18 in head circum (50th)
Lara is 18 lbs (less than 3rd) and 28 1/2 (3rd) and 17 5/8 in head circumference (25th)

Since Lara is still so small, we will stay in the infant seats and stay backwards facing for Kristin. It is easier to carry the infant seats out to the car and only have to make one trip with them. Mind you, I have already done at least 1 other trip of just "stuff" aka- purse, diaper bag, lunch bag (on school days)and whatever else we need for the outing.

Just glad they are healthy and meeting the milestones that they should be.

Here are the girls sitting together with BARELY any toys to play with and no books to read. Don't you feel sorry for them? Isn't it a shame that they have SO little? They are probably hoping for a few toys for Christmas... poor babies!



This is Kristin's new "What? I am not doing anything" face.



Her laugh can bring tears to my eyes. She laughs whole heartily and so enthusiastically.



Little Ladybug Lara



Lara jabbers non stop and then laughs so whatever she is saying it must be funny!

Thursday, November 11, 2010

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:




Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Part 3 of my PPD

After a few more nights of Kristin fighting me to nurse, she was screaming all day long. I called Bobby at the fire station, I am going to lose it, I said. He asked if he needed to come home, what was wrong with her? How the hell do I know, and if I did know don't you think I would give it to her? I need her to stop. I am at the end of my rope.

We decided for me to take her to the dr. I called. No they couldn't fit me in today. So I said, She has been crying for hours. I will come sit in the waiting room with her crying until Dr B can see me. Hold please. Ok we can see you at 3. Is that ok? OK 3 pm.

So in my newborn hell, I went to the dr. He took a look, Oh she has some colic... and might have some reflux. Let's try this. Thank you, will she stop crying now?

She started taking Zantac for her reflux, I guess it helped. She didn't fight eating like she was. But at this point I decided I wasn't going to nurse her anymore. I would pump and put it in a bottle for her. I still would nurse Lara when I could and I pumped ALOT.

Kristin still cried for hours and that made things hard for me. I couldn't take all the crying. This is when Bobby decided to build the playroom for them (yes the one we are STILL building over a year later, yes that same room). I mean I understood escaping to outside, I wanted to escape too. This is when things got even worse for Bobby and me. I really was angry at him. I don't know why except that he seemed to be able to avoid taking care of the twins unlike I was able to. I was STUCK. TRAPPED. Trapped at home. Exhausted. I wanted to get away. But I couldn't. He left every other night and got a full night's sleep. I didn't. It pissed me off profusely when he said "I'm tired" Really? You are? Asshole.

I went for my 6 week post delivery check up. Kristin cried the whole time. And Bobby did something that he couldn't watch the girls so I could go by myself. So I had to go in the stirrups with Kristin screaming and my shirt soaking wet from her screaming. Dr M asked me how I was doing and we discussed birth control. I didn't care WHAT he gave me, just make SURE I couldn't get knocked up. Please, thank you very much. We discussed if Bobby and I were intimate. HELL NO, I don't even like him AND he thinks that we need to discuss putting Reese (Gosh I miss you buddy) to sleep. Umm... not a good time, Reese is sometimes the only person I like in the house right now. Yes I actually told Dr M that the dog was the only person in the house I liked most of the time. He should have caught on that SOMETHING was WRONG. But I use humor sometimes to hide my real feelings, so in fairness maybe he thought I was joking... I wasn't. Of course Dr M told me maybe sex would make me feel better. Whatever, you are a man, of course you think that. He also asked me if I "needed something". No. Nothing is wrong with me. I just hate my husband... I couldn't say I felt apathetic to everything. I mean what kind of mother would I be if I said it out loud?

We decided on the Mirena and I could come back to get it in. I tried to schedule the appt as far out as possible, but the receptionist, who was probably trying to get me the hell out since Kristin was still screaming, scheduled it for like 10 days later. When I got home, of course Bobby wanted to know if we were "cleared" for sex. Ummm... No, Dr M said we should wait til after the IUD. DON'T want to get pregnant...ok? Of course it wasn't what he said but I wasn't having sex so LEAVE me alone!

Then it was getting closer and closer for me to go back to work. I wanted to go. But I didn't want to go. I was Exhausted! I was excited to get time to "myself" (yes you can laugh at that). But if I went to work, it would be like a 'break'. Kristin still cried several times a day, ranging from a half hour to hours. Whatever she felt like.

The PPD continues. However, the guilt was killing me. How could I feel like this? To top it off there was all kinds of stuff going on. My friend Kate had been pregnant with twins and had lost her twins due to infection and possible incompetent cervix. And Maggie had had a traumatic birth and Rachel was a little tiny preemie in the NICU. And here I sat, totally unattached and a horrible distant mother, I had everything that alot of women wanted, I had a healthy pregnancy, 2 healthy babies and here I sat. Sad. Alone. Depressed. Crying. I felt like a piece of shit. So how could I say anything? I even talked to Kate most days, but I didn't let on, I mean how could I? She was grieving for her twins and I didn't even want mine around me. I was horrible. I felt guilty. I felt so selfish and ... I don't even know. I can't even tell you how I felt, because I felt so horrible. Here I had wanted a baby and I had that. I had prayed a million prayers for a healthy pregnancy and baby. I had that. Two babies actually. I mean, what more could I want?

After all of the treatments, I was given everything I dreamed of. Except I felt like I was in a nightmare. A bad horror movie. I was in hell.

Guilt....

Guilt is a BAD thing. I felt guilty for how I felt. I secluded myself some. I know there was days, when people called, I just didn't answer the phone. I didn't want to lie, I mean talk. It was too much work. I couldn't even tell my best friend (who told me how I would just stare at them in awe and be amazed by them and I would feel this overwhelming love for them) that Nope, I felt nothing. I wanted to go back to my "old life", but I was trapped. Trapped in this hell. It was never going to get better. I was stuck.

I went back to work. I didn't cry when I left them with the sitter. People asked me that at work that morning. "Oh didn't you cry as you drove off?"
Isn't it terrible to leave them, I mean OMG they are so cute". I just shook my head yes... I cried... of course it was the hardest thing I ever did to leave them there. I was thinking, yeah I cried.... cried tears of joy. Yes I was FREE! Someone else could deal with Kristin's crying. WOO HOO!

I was still getting up 2 times a night with them. I was exhausted and in a "coma" if you ask me. I went to work, I was still in Groundhog Day, weeks flew by. Only irritating thing was how bitchy women are. At work someone "told" on me that I wasn't accepting their suggestions on how to teach a student. My principal came to talk to me about "being more positive" and made a nice suggestion for me to get a nanny so I could get more sleep. And that maybe if I didn't have such a nice car, we could afford a nanny. Eff off asshole. Anyway... didn't get a nanny, noted, smile at work and suck up people's bs comments about teaching (mind your own business school psychologist) and do what I was told. Be the "teacher I want my kids to have". Ok.

I also had said some things about Kristin crying and her colic and that I was tired and a little frustrated. Somehow that turned into women talking shit that I hated my kids and blah blah blah. Eff off too. Lyzz gave them a nice cold shoulder for me and warned me. Noted, don't talk about my kids at work. Smile. Everything is great.

Everything wasn't great. But I am a good actress. I could fake it. But it was all very exhausting. And inside I was screaming. And sometimes I screamed at home when all hell was breaking lose and I was SO tired.

Then things started to change some. Kristin's colic fit came right when we walked in the door after work. YAY me. But somehow I was able to handle it better after missing the other ones during the day. (Even the sitter said "she cries alot") So them more guilt came. I started to 'like' Lara. She was such an easy baby. She cried to be changed, cried to eat, other than that, she was happy. But I could also calm her quickly, not with Kristin though. And it frustrated me, because I felt like I neglected Lara to hold Kristin while she screamed. Lara seemed to only get attention when Bobby or someone else was around. And when someone came around and wanted to hold a baby, here hold Kristin. I felt like I never got to hold Lara. Then I had to hear my mother say, "I only ever see you hold Lara". Which I said, of course cause I never get to hold her, but you are holding Kristin so I can hold Lara now. OMG my mom noticed that I was crazy.... I felt even worse now. I mean I may 'like' Lara but Kristin still frustrated me ALOT. I was struggling. And I felt guilty. GUILTY. Did I say GUILTY? Cause that is a horrible thing to say. I liked one baby more than the other. Who does that? OMG, I am a horrible, ungrateful, piece of crap mother.

Slowly, it started. We only got up one time during the night. That made things slightly better. I still was attached to my best friend Medela Pump in Style. She was my friend. The whoosh, whoosh sound for 15 minutes, 8 times a day. But I wasn't going to quit giving them breast milk. NO matter how many people told me to stop. I wasn't a quitter and I was going to win. I think the endless hours of pumping may have added to the PPD. I felt attached to that damn pump. It was ALL I did. I lived in 3 hour segments of time. Pump. Wash the parts. Do stuff. Pump. Vicious cycle. But I did it. And I survived... barely sometimes.

The girls are up from their nap.... I will continue later, But I will leave you with the cutest pumpkins in the patch: