Trudging Along . . .

Today marks the 5th week of post-natal life for Vincent and Adrian. It also marks the 5th week of delirium for Elisa, myself, and our parade of guests.

Let’s be clear: Elisa and I couldn’t be more excited about what has happened to our family, and we feel incredibly grateful for our double blessing, and the fact that they are healthy and growing.

That said . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . the myriad and relentless demands of caring for twin newborns is taking its toll. No dimension of a new parent’s life is insulated from the impact of a new baby (or, in our case, babies).

The sleep deprivation combined with the absolute eradication of free-time and disposable income is gradually chipping away at our very sanity. Since yesterday, Elisa has suffered from a sore throat and muscle fatigue, brought on, we suspect, by the triple-whammy of sleep deprivation, irregular eating habits, and the constant extraction of breast milk.

For me, the mental fatigue far outweighs the physical. Despite my best efforts, I was largely unprepared for the enormity and ferocity of the struggle on two separate fronts:

1) Trying to provide emotional stability in the household and
2) Dealing with a creature (or in our case, creatures) that have insatiable and unending demands and at times seem totally unresponsive to our efforts

During the first few weeks, when the boys consumed an average of 1.5-2 ounces every 3 hours, the feedings lasted about 1.5-2 hours. That would leave, on average, one care-free hour for the adults in the house to catch a nap or attend to other tasks like eating, personal hygiene, cooking, shopping, washing bottles, laundry, cleaning, etc.

These last few weeks have seen an increase in both appetite and fussiness. This has delivered a devastating 1-2 punch to our routine, and thus, our ability to cope.

Now our boys put away 4.5 oz. or more per feeding. Not only does it take them much longer to eat/burp, but the increased fussiness guarantees that at least one of them will be uncomfortable and demanding for at least ½ hour following the feeding.

I was really pushed to the limits one night last week when, following a late night feeding, Adrian was inconsolable, ergo, I could not go back to sleep. I tried everything: burping, bouncing, changing his diaper, laying him on his side, his stomach, upright, flat, massaging his legs, belly, etc. Adrian only became increasingly agitated.

I had reached my breaking point: I was staring into the abyss. My mind was racing, and suffice it to say that not all my thoughts at that moment were positive.

Luckily for all, my mother (who must be praised for doing another week of hard time living here with us) suddenly appeared, and with one simple question ("when was the last time they ate?") made me realize that it had already been 3 hours since the last feeding began. The simplicity of the situation and the futility of my efforts made me want to both cry and laugh out loud: he was hungry.

Sometimes the boys are sleepy, and pass out after feeding, and other times they do not sleep and the end of one feeding blends seamlessly with the beginning of the next. It took me a few days to recognize this phenomenon, but since then, I feel better prepared mentally.

All this, mind you, while we have at least one live-in helper at all times . . . how can it be done with just 2 or one parent at home? I'm convinced that it simply cannot . . . and we are forever indebted to all those who have contributed so far . . .