A million questions

I lost Reuben at 22 weeks. One more week and they would have tried to save him. But at 22 weeks my baby’s definition -insert dr speech marks here – was “not-viable”. I fought for him, but it wasn’t enough. They said they would check his weight and if he was big enough they would try and save him. But it was too late. While waiting for this ultrasound to check his weight, I went in to labour. He was born about 15 minutes after the ultrasound was planned. A million questions go around and around in my head every day. Some far too raw for me to have the strength say, let alone write down. But here are 11. 11 questions that may never be answered. But 11 questions that I will be asking when I finally have my follow up specialist appointment (an appointment I had to chase up by the way. No planned 6 week appointment for me unless I actually pushed for it). 

So here are just 11 questions that burn a hole in my heart daily:

  1. Would have Reuben been in pain when he passed away? 
  1. I went private with my twins and it was a waste of money as I didn’t get the care I needed and my Dr was complacent and in my eyes, a reason my girls came so premature. So this time I went public. I had learnt that public is where NICU is and all the resources for preterm birth. But when I was admitted this time, there was a lot of waiting around. Waiting for a Dr, waiting for my ultrasound, waiting for my pessaries, waiting for my cannula and antibiotics. Realistically, had I not have had to do all this waiting (ie if I had a private Dr) could have my baby boy survived? 
  2. Why was I and my high risk pregnancy referral not taken seriously? Why was I not a part of the high risk program? The program I learnt about after it was too late. Especially as not only was I a ‘high risk’ pregnancy, but I also fell pregnant in under a year after having twins a 27 weeks.
  3. Why did my body let my perfectly healthy baby boy go? Why did I go into preterm labor again?
  4. What were the results to the 10+ blood tests I was tortured for after everything? It’s been 6 weeks and I’ve been told nothing. 
  1. Is there something I could have done to have stopped this happening? Or something I might have done that caused it?
  1. Did falling pregnant so soon after the twins have anything to do with why this happened? 
  1. Is it safe for me to have another baby?  
  1. My drs appointment was changed to a week later: The Thursday after I gave birth. If I had attended this appointment at the original time (the week before), is it possible that you could have seen something? And if so, could we have done something to save my baby boy?  
  2. Whatever is wrong with my body, is this something that I could pass on to my girls? Could they have the same problems that I have? 
  3. Why did I by some miracle fall pregnant naturally, if it was just going to be taken away from me? (Okay, I won’t ask this one of the drs but I think about it all the time).

These are hard hitting questions. And I know some won’t have answers right now or maybe ever. However, asking these questions is going to be part of my healing journey. It’s going to be extremely hard. But I’m going to do it. If I don’t, I will regret it. I know none of these questions will ever bring Reuben back but I need to at least try and get some answers. I need to ask these questions along with many others, to help me move forward, to grow stronger and to heal. 

I miss you every day Reuben. Sometimes, in a blissful moment, I forget that all of this has happened and you are still here. But then I remember and it breaks my heart all over again. I love you so much. 

Writing is also part of my healing process. I write a lot. Some things I share, some things I don’t. I was not sure if I would share this piece. But then I began to think, if there is just the slightest chance that this could help someone else, then why not? People who don’t want to read this, won’t. People that want to or need to, hopefully will. I may never know, but it this could help someone who has gone through, is going through or will go through the trauma, heartbreak and loss that I have. I have had many people thank me for being so open and vulnerable with my journey. And also some other amazing angel mums who have reached out. I haven’t shared everything. Just when the time comes and I feel ready, I have shared parts of my journey and I know already, that I have helped others. I find comfort in this. Helping others also helps the healing process.

Love Terri

Untitled

I’m not okay. I’ve never been so not okay in my life. Once upon a long time ago my life was so simple. But everyday of my adult life I had honestly been so appreciative of all that I had. Of the places I went, the beautiful people I met and the amazing experiences I was given. 

Today though, I feel that in a past life I must have been a god awful, evil bitch. Simple was a lifetime ago. Woe is me. Although I still realise I am so blessed (hello gorgeous Dahli and India and my amazing husband Luke), I too feel so broken, so numb, so incomplete. 

Before I lost our baby boy Reuben Luke, I was in the middle of a tongue in cheek blog post about being pregnant again with 15 month old twins. The reactions I was getting (mostly laughing in my face), and the passable bump as most people thought I was just still fat from having the girls. How ridiculous that these were my thoughts when in a breath, it could all be taken away. 

How crazy it is to think how happy and complete I felt just moments before this whirlwind began. We had two gorgeous, miracle bubbas and another on the way! One minute I was a healthy and happy mummy who had a healthy, happy baby growing in my tummy. And the next minute, my body let him go. 

I won’t lie, I was a bit scared about having another with two babies already. But I wanted Reuben so bad. I had painted his future. I had visualized his homecoming and the days, weeks, months, years ahead of us. He was to be a normal, healthy, full-term pregnancy. I was already seeing him next to my bed in his Moses basket. I had seen him playing with our baby girls and had been planning how to teach Dahli and India to be caring and gentle with him. I had also already planned him to be my successful breastfeeding journey. We were so close, yet so far from when we should have met him. A million what ifs, a million tears, a world much sadder without our baby Reuben. 

I usually try to have a positive, final conclusion to my blog posts. I don’t have the brain for this right now. I’m learning to just be with my grief. To not rush it. The triggers and waves of emotions will and do come unexpectedly. For the moment I am not okay, and that is okay. I am though doing my best to be strong for my baby girls. My smart, crazy, beautiful twins who aren’t silly. They know mummy is hurting. They know something is up. So while I am not okay and it is okay, I am thoroughly enjoying lost of cuddles with my sweet, sweet baby girls. 

Please reach out if you have/are experiencing something similar. I have joined yet another family. Although not a family I had ever dreamed of being a part of. Us Mummas to angels are the only ones that understand. And together, we can support each other through the dark times. I don’t know how, but I know that we will. 

And in the meantime, I am off to Fiji with my family to escape and try and heal together.

I love you so much baby Reuben Luke and I am so so sorry.

Love Terri

 

 

Running 4 NICU

Please help us raise funds: https://www.gofundme.com/running-4-nicu

The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit is a place that no one ever wants to visit or no baby ever wants to call home. Even so, this place is where miracles happen. Here, warriors fight the fight of their lives and their superheroes work their magic. It is a place of uncertainty, isolation, grief, exhaustion, guilt, longing, and loss.  Yet also a place of wonder, hope, joy, gratitude, life, love, pride, strength and humility. Although we prayed for the day we could leave NICU with our babies, we also have the upmost respect and gratitude for the world of NICU. Before our babies, we were unaware. But now we are so aware. We know that if it was not for the skills, expertise and resources available to us and our girls in NICU,  then our story would have ended in complete and utter heartbreak.

I have talked a lot to my husband about how we could possible give back, after our time spent in NICU. I wanted to do something that would hopefully turn heads and raise awareness while also raising much needed funds for the NICU in Canberra. One day he suggested that I run a half marathon with the girls in tow and raise funds for NICU.

So, as our beautiful girls are about to turn 1 (9 months corrected), we have started to train in preparation to run the half marathon in the Australian Running festival to raise awareness about premature birth and funds for The Newborn Intensive Care Foundation. I will be pushing the girls the whole way who will then be 15months old (12 months corrected). We have been given a special exemption to run with our twin pram and will be the very first pram in this event! We run on the 14th of April, which is just 5 days before the day that the girls were supposed to be born.

A bit about our charity:

The Newborn Intensive Care Foundation is a local charity that raises money for medical equipment, research and nurse education to help give the ACT and Southern NSW’s critically ill newborn babies, the best chance to lead healthy, normal lives. During our time in hospital I was not aware of the amazing work they have done but after our girls graduated NICU and Special Care, I found their website and all the wonderful things they have been able to achieve.

This foundation purchased a Nava ventilator,  which pretty much saved little Dahli’s life (we have joked that we might give her the middle name Nava). Things were not looking good until this amazing technology came along. And not only do they raise money for equipment and education but their funding helped me to provide breast milk to my babies. They purchased the brilliant breast pumps and funded a trial for a dedicated lactation consultant for the NICU which was successful-  and this amazing lady is still there!

Currently, NICU needs 14 Neopuff machines with each one costing $1,500. Neopuffs are neopuff-t-piece-resuscitator-500x500resuscitation devices used to provide breathing support if a baby stops breathing or has an apnoea (pause in breathing associated with prematurity). These devices provide blended air/oxygen and an inspiratory pressure and end expiratory pressure. We are hoping to raise enough funds to purchase two of these.

If you would like to see more of the amazing work this foundation does, you can check out: https://newborn.org.au 
From the very beginning our warrior princesses Dahli and India had a fight to live and without the incredible advances in neonatal technology we would not have our beautiful twins brightening our life every day.

We race on Sunday 14th April (feel free so come and cheer us on!) and we hope that we can raise $3000 to donate to the Newborn Intensive Care Foundation so we can give back in whatever small way possible.

If you would like to follow our journey, training, and life after NICU, please keep reading our blog: https://doubletheluv.com

and follow us on Instagram at Double_the_luv

Thank you so very much,

Love Terri, Luke, Dahli and India

go fund us

World Prematurity Day

Part 2

As World Prematurity Day draws to a close across the globe, I nervously publish the second part to this poignant and honest post.

Our identical twin girls were born on 21st January, 2018 at just 27+3 weeks. They were both 35.5cm long, Dahli weighing 925g and India 890g. I’d like to do my best at describing some of our time in NICU. I don’t know that I have all the words to convey the raw journey that it was. But I hope to shed a little light. Perhaps this small insight may help to prepare someone just a touch for the journey that they, or someone they love may one day have. Of course all NICU journeys are different and this is just part of my experience.

My first visit to NICU was shortly after my emergency Cesaerean. Once the wardsman was happy that I had feeling back in the lower half of my body, they wheeled me up in my bed to meet my girls. I remember feeling so excited but also a little hollow inside. We got to the door…I was ready…and then we were turned away. They were not ready for us yet and still floaty from medication I just smiled sweetly; I did not really mind that I had to wait longer. I felt like they were not really mine anyway and the doctors and nurses needed to be their protection at this time.

birth

Later that afternoon, they were ready for us to visit and so I was wheeled up in my bed once more. It felt so surreal. I was still floating and running on adrenaline. I could not wait to meet them. They opened the heavy door and wheeled me in awkwardly. There were two humidi cribs at opposite sides of a largeish, sterile room. I think it was Dahli that I met first, to the left side of the room. They wheeled my bed right up against it, but I couldn’t see. They adjusted the height of Dahli’s humidi crib but I couldn’t lift my body so I could barely see a thing. She was inside a perspex box, in a nest and I couldn’t see over the edge. I think I caught sight of a leg and maybe an arm but my body was so heavy, I tried so hard and felt that I let her down. I wasn’t able to see her the way I needed to see her.

peep hole

It was then time to be wheeled over to India, my husband recorded this memory on my phone. The exact same thing happened; I couldn’t see her. We had someone take photos of my husband and I next to the thick perspex cribs. Our first family photo, well not exactly (one baby at a time) and you couldn’t even see our little girls. I didn’t let myself cry. Instead I asked my husband to take photos of the girls for me and when back in my room, I was able to look at them (silently disappointed at my husbands photography skills). Tiny, red gummy bears. Eyes closed. Paper-thin skin. Not an ounce of fat. So fragile and weak. But all I saw was perfection. They were here and they were mine. I was ecstatic. The thought that they may not make it never entered my mind. I wouldn’t let it. I was happy and we had no idea what the journey ahead would involve.

That day I also started a new hobby…expressing. Just an hour after the girls birth, my nurse came and taught me how to hand express, collecting with a syringe. This was my job. I remember telling my husband that it was my new favourite thing to do. My milk was sent up every hour.  I was nourishing and protecting my babies in the only way I could. My expressing machine was my new best friend.

The following day after practically no sleep due to regular meds being pumped through me and expressing every couple of hours, we were allowed to go up again to see our babies. My husband wheeled me up in a wheelchair. And this this time the lights were on…physically, mentally, emotionally…

I stood up like a frail old lady, keeping my chair behind me incase I fell. And there was Dahli, protected inside her little perspex box. Oh my heart as I peeped through. I felt torn. Torn because I couldn’t just reach out and grab her and torn also because I needed to see India at the same time, but I couldn’t. I just had to be patient. Dahli first and then India. 

This time I saw them I noticed all the wires and cords. I saw the bulky CPAP strapped on with their tiny little genie hat. I heard the alarms, the beeping, the bubbling. These beeps and alarms I would grow to understand (and hear all night long in my sleep). And the bubbles, well they were eerie and made me anxious every time they stopped. Bubbles meant my girls were breathing and the air was helping to open their lungs.

I remember meeting the nurses. The nurses who were my heroes. Who even though they did their absolute best to make me feel like a parent, it still didn’t feel like my babies were mine. In fact, it felt like they had been stolen. I missed my whole final trimester of pregnancy and for now my babies were theirs. Weirdly, I was okay with that. These heroes were keeping my babies alive. They were who my girls needed most. For now I would look on with pride and worry as my girls fought. I would touch and hold them whenever I could. I would pray. I would sing and read to them. I would write in both their journals every day. And I would continue to pump my heart out to provide them with my magic milk. On this note, I also remember the encouraging lactation consultant and the kind words from doctors and nurses about my expressing efforts. This meant so much to me. It helped me feel more a part in my babies lives.

Twice a day we helped with the girl’s ‘cares’. This meant changing their nappies, giving a head and ears massage as the nurses changed the CPAP, helping administer oral drops,  gently wiping under their arms and neck and if we were lucky, holding them up as their nest was changed. Cares was everything. While the CPAP was changed I remember the awful sucking tube that they would thread into the girls noses to suck out any gunk. The tiny little mouse like squeals the girls gave when this happened broke my heart. As we changed our first nappies, I noticed that our babies didn’t have a bum crack like normal newborns, just a hole. They were however, still pretty fantastic at pooing! Cares was the time we could feel a little more connected with our babies. Each day we would notice something new about our little miracles. 

daddy head massage
India gets head massage from daddy

Daily the doctors would do their rounds. I would always feel like I was holding my breath until they gave me the day’s news. It wasn’t just one or two doctors. Everytime the team came through, the room was full. I think there were about six or more plus the two nurses allocated to our babies. Although this was overwhelming and scary, it was also reassuring that such a large, professional and compassionate team were taking the absolute best care of our precious baby girls. No news was always good news. And then there were days when they would speak and the room would spin, my ears would ring and I felt the urge to run and hide. 

So I have attempted to try and explain our first couple of days in NICU. But I know that my words will never be enough to convey the experience properly. So many new things, so many layers of emotion, so much uncertainty. Feelings of isolation, heart-sinking and heart soaring moments, as well at times of complete hollowness. I never broke. Of course I cried, but not as often as I thought I would. I held myself together on the outside. My girls had no choice but to be strong and so being strong was the least I could do for them. Our mantra was always ‘one day at a time’, and then finally, after 91 days, came the one perfect day: the day that we took our babies out in the sunshine. The day when we buckled them into their fluffy cloud-like seats. The day we blared ‘I’m coming home’ on the car stereo. The day we walked the girls through the front door and introduced them to our confused doggies. The day I felt totally and utterly complete.

In concluding this post, I asked my husband how he would describe the experience as I feel that my words really have failed. His response included the following: I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Purgatory. Limbo land. It was shit. You don’t know what’s going on. You don’t know if you should be sad or happy. You don’t know if you’re babies are sick. You don’t know if you should continue normal life or if you should be there every day. When you’re not there and you remember that your babies are, you get really sad and just want to be with them… And at the end of our conversation, together we agreed: You just don’t know how to do it.

To all the NICU Parents in the now, in the past, in the future: You’re babies are the strongest people that you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. Have faith. Reach out. And please know that you are not and never will be alone.

Love Terri

professional

 

 

World prematurity day

Part 1

Yesterday I was thinking to myself, ‘I really should move past this… it has had a hold of me for too long.. it doesn’t have to be this way anymore.’ But then a day like World Prematurity Day comes around and I remember why it is okay to feel and why it is okay to keep sharing. Because we are not the only family that prematurity has affected, we definitely won’t be the last, and in no way are we the most affected.

then and now

Every year, 15 million babies are born premature worldwide. More than one million of these babies die, and many more face serious, lifelong health challenges. Worldwide, one in ten babies are born too early – more than 25,000 each year in Australia alone. Raising awareness of preterm birth is the first step to defeating it (miraclebabies.org.au) and I believe that it can also help to shed light on how common it is and what the experience can be like.

Having a premature baby or babies in my case, is heart wrenching. It’s so frightening, frustrating, isolating and traumatic. It is something that no one should have to go through. NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) parents have experienced loss in one way or another. In many cases, NICU parents never get to bring their babies home. We were so blessed to bring home two gorgeous baby girls and not a day goes by where I forget how fortunate we are.   

 

In NICU I constantly felt lost. Of course there were many ups and downs in the rollercoaster that is NICU life, but one thing I intrinsically knew, was that I needed to celebrate the mini milestones that most newborns never need to meet. Like when our babies began breathing with less support, when they started to breathe without support, when they opened their eyes, when their tiny little bottoms had just a smidge of fat, when they reached their birth weight, when they reached 1kg, when they went up a nappy size, when they beat an infection, when they wore clothes for the first time, when they turned off the heat in their humicribs, when they went into open cots, when we had our first touch and our first cuddle, when we finally had the first twin cuddle, when they reached full feeds, when they had a line taken out, when they graduated to special care, when they had their first breastfeed practice, when they had their first bottle practice, the list goes on and on. And with our girls, these milestones didn’t happen at the same time because, even from the very beginning, they have been very much their own person.  

I know we have had it easier than other premmie families. I know that others do and will struggle more. I also know and understand that when we look at our babies, not only do we see their perfect gorgeous little faces, and their deliciously squiggy bodies. We also see warriors. Warriors who fought the fight of their lives and kicked but. Warriors who stayed strong and resilient, even when their parents found courage difficult and at times, near impossible.

bubs and chair

Watching our baby girls fight every day, I would have given anything to see them healthy and happy like all newborn babies deserve to be. These days, when I get frustrated or when the girls have totally exhausted me, I remember how tiny, fragile and helpless they were and how lucky I am to have this crazy twin life! Now that we have our babies home, we have realised that it really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things if they have delays or other prematurity related issues. The most important thing is that our children are alive. Whatever it is they need, we will be here to love, nurture and provide. Always. There is no need to be frightened anymore. My babies have given me strength that I never knew I had. We really are the lucky ones.

pool

Being the mother of two extreme prem babies has undoubtedly been the hardest thing that I have ever gone through. In a way though, it has also been an eye opening and amazing experience. I mean, we got to spend an extra three months with our baby girls! And not only have we made our own little family, but we have also joined two others: the multiples family and the NICU family. Families who also know and understand, that even when the days are tough. Life really is a wonderful blessing.

both

Love Terri

 

Mummy Guilt

I preface this post by saying that I had planned to write a lighthearted dig at Mummy Guilt. But then I started at the beginning of my experience with Mummy Guilt and well, suddenly I just started to go to town, resulting in more of a self indulgent post. So if you are expecting a funny, tongue in cheek post about the guilt that is Mummy Guilt…sorry but this isn’t it!

Mummy guilt is relentless. She is an evil enemy who poses as a friend and doesn’t care for your feelings or about the people you love. Mummy Guilt is a vicious, repetitive monster that is so very hard to leave behind. She is always there, lurking in the shadows. No matter how hard you try or how much love you shower your children with, Mummy Guilt somehow creeps in. And if you are not careful, she can steal from you what should be the most precious, important time in your life. 

I met Mummy Guilt before my babies were even earth side, which I am sure is the case for other mummies too. At first it was just little glimpses like, “hi, hello- are you sure you should eat that?” Or “You really should be reading those baby books, all good mums read the baby books”…But boy oh boy, did she ramp it up when I was hospitalised with severe bleeding, a ruptured membrane and a dilated cervix, at 26+5 weeks. Was it that exercise I did? Was it the heat I exposed myself to at the beach? Was it the travelling in the car over Christmas? Was it the rearranging of furniture as I began to nest? Was it that I didn’t question my doctor when I should have? Was it the food I ate? Was it Karma for something I have done in the past? Was it that I have no business being a mother?….. the list went on and on and on. And I hadn’t even met my precious little warrior princesses yet. 

On the magical (and traumatic) morning when my gorgeous girls greeted me, fortunately Mummy Guilt didn’t show her face. I was able to enjoy the moment, although it was quite different to anything I ever expected it to be. No matter how tiny and fragile my girls were, at the time all I felt was love and pride for what my husband and I had created. Hearing their cries as they entered the world filled my heart in a way that it has never been filled. 

colostrum! Woo!
Colostrum that I spent hours overnight expressing. I was feeling super proud.

It wasn’t until 2 or 3 days into the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) journey, that Mummy Guilt surfaced again. She mostly wanted to judge me for the time I couldn’t be with my girls. For the time I spent away from them. To begin with, I spent this time being closely monitored with an infection and round the clock antibiotics fed through my drip.  I also expressed every three hours religiously, in my hospital bed. Oh and even more time away from them- at night, where I selfishly slept and tried to recuperate from the traumatic birth that I had experienced. Mummy Guilt expected me to be by my baby’s bedside twenty-four seven.

 

 

discharged
Being wheeled out of the hospital. Minutes before I completely broke down.

When I was finally discharged after 12 days, Mummy Guilt was one chunk of the reason why I cried hysterically the whole car ride home.  For the first time, I really did leave my girls; I had to go home. I went home and left two parts of me at hospital. What a horrible, selfish thing to do. Even though Mummy Guilt knew that I had no choice in the matter, she still slept next to me at night. After being discharged, whenever I was a home, I tried to be zen for my own health. Yes I did practice Yoga everyday as the sensible, rational me knew that I needed this so that I did not go insane. Mummy Guilt, on the other hand thought that it was completely unnecessary and selfish. She also told me that the nurses judged me for the time that I was not at the hospital.

twin cuddle
First Daddy cuddle. First Twin cuddle.

Then there was the time when a lovely, sweet nurse could see that I was not coping and that I had family visiting, so she suggested I spend an afternoon at home with them. I listened and I did just this, even though Mummy Guilt was yelling in my ear that I should always be with my babies. Well, Mummy Guilt won this one. Staying at home for my own mental health meant that I missed out on Daddy’s first cuddle and not just that, but also the first twin cuddle. This was something that broke me completely and required lots of help and time to work through the awful guilt and disappointment. 

 

 

Mummy Guilt was already so present in my life and I had not yet even had the experience of taking my babies home. For the 91 days that my babies spent in hospital, she always had plenty more material to drown me in guilt: morning, day and night. I did not however let her ruin my time with my babies. I was fortunately able to cast her aside most of the time and focus on my precious baby girls.

breast cuddle
Breast cuddles while expressed breast milk is fed through nasal gastric tube.

And now comes the reason why I decided to write this post. I tried my absolute hardest to breastfeed my twins. I was there at the hospital, every day, giving my babies breast feeding practice every alternate feed, as they received my expressed breast milk through their nasal gastric tubes. Then when they were moved to special care and the focus was on gaining weight, it became a cycle of learning the bottle, having tube feeds and practising on the breast. They needed to be confident on the bottle and no longer need tube feeds to come home. So once they could feed without a tube and weighed over 3kg, we were allowed to take our little miracles home.

breast feeding in NICU
breastfeeding whilst the nurses tube fed the girls through their nasal gastric tubes.

 

 

“Your twins will, no they must be exclusively breast fed within the first couple of weeks they are home”, Mummy Guilt told me. Well..sorry to disappoint, but this didn’t happen. My girls were never able to get a full feed from the breast. It is only recently I gave up (although we do still do some ‘breast feeds’ just for bonding). Mummy Guilt had me lose lots of sleep over this. Even though I spend hours expressing litres of milk, Mummy Guilt expected me to breast feed my babies until they turned one. But I have been able to let this go and move on with the new plan. I now always express whilst simultaneously feeding the twins my milk from a bottle. 

 

And this brings me to today and the current argument I am having with Mummy Guilt.  My bubs are now almost 8 months old and so she has me questioning, for how long do I continue this exhausting task that is expressing? My supply dropped with mastitis (this was hell) and I have had to supplement with some formula, which I know people judge and Mummy guilt makes sure I know this. It is her job to listen to the nonsense that people tell me about breast being best, and how I really should see another lactation consultant, and that formula can cause cancer (hello! I was formula fed, and I happen to think I turned out quite wonderfully!). Mummy Guilt doesn’t listen to the kind, positive things that people say, she only cares about the negative. She has absolutely no idea and no place in our lives and yet, here she is clouding my decision making and just filling me with sadness for even thinking about ceasing my milk making days.

expressing & bottles
Expressing as I bottle feed my gorgeous girls. They don’t quite fit so well on my lap now AND they pull the tubes out!

Reading over this post, I hadn’t realised how present Mummy Guilt has been in my parenting journey so far. I was so focused on the tough decision that I have to make about feeding my babies that I had forgotten all the unkind things Mummy Guilt has already said to me in the past. I didn’t realise that I could dig up so much dirt on Mummy Guilt, but gosh has it helped me feel better!

As I reflect, I can see clearly that I don’t have time for Mummy Guilt; Mummy Guilt doesn’t know best. In fact, she doesn’t have a clue what she is talking about. Everybody’s parenting journey is different and the choices we make don’t need judgement. My introduction into motherhood was not ideal and I know that the most important thing I can do, is to give my babies love.

I believe that one day when I tell my gorgeous warrior princesses the story of their first year of their lives, they will be so proud and grateful that I was chosen to be their mummy. 

So I choose to cast Mummy Guilt aside. I know I can do this, because I have done it before. I will do my absolute best to keep her away as I continue to enjoy the special moments with my baby girls every day. I don’t need to make any decisions immediately, but when I do decide to stop expressing (or make any other motherhood decisions, for that matter) it won’t be Mummy Guilt that makes the decision for me. She has no place in my life and nor should she. 

Love to all mummies and may you have the strength tame your Mummy Guilt too! Because, You are amazing.

Love Terri

15 Things being a twin mum has taught me.

Becoming a twin mummy has definitely been the hugest, most rewarding learning curve I have ever experienced. I wanted to be a mum so much for so long. I thought that I was prepared as could be and then the universe threw me twins! Everyday I definitely learn something new and along with the following 15 lessons, the overarching theme of twin mummy life, is that you have to laugh at everything. I think having a sense of humour and understanding the hilarity that is twins, gets you through everyday and makes the journey all the more enjoyable. Here are 15 things that being a twin mum has taught me (so far):

  1. If one of your babies is going to have a poo explosion, so will the other. Most likely at the same time, and if not, definitely straight after you have just changed the first nappy. Often they decide to do their number twos while I am feeding and hooked up to the expressing machine and then won’t take their bottle until I change them! Quite the challenge! just chilling poo
  2. All of my four limbs can and will be used simultaneously all day long!  Example 1: Right arm: bottle; Left arm: bottle; Right and left leg: cradling baby and/ or bouncy-bouncy burp (whilst boobies being pumped!). Example 2: Left and right leg: cradling baby and/or bouncy-bouncy burp; trunk and chin/shoulder: position second baby here to burp and/or soothe; both hands: patting backs to a tune as I try to keep bubs calm and bring up their burp/s! (pumping here too!) Example 3: Right knee: baby; Left knee/upper leg: baby; right and left hands: entertaining with toys. Example 4: Right knee: baby; Left knee: baby; Right and left hands: baby piano. Example 5: Both arms hold baby and dummy in baby’s mouth; both feet jingle play gym for second baby. Example 6: Both feet: bouncing bouncers; both hands: eating lunch and entertaining babies. I think you get the picture, there are quite a few more variations! possible-feeding-station.jpg
    feed-time.jpg
  3. One smile makes me melt, double smiles makes my heart explode! And catching them on camera- much more difficult than you think. Double smiles always end with a mummy celebration (insert delirious mummy whooping and nonsense lyric improvised song here). double smiles
  4. When I feed one baby, I absolutely must feed the other at the same time! Getting off schedule is never an option in our household! Of course, I make the rules and the girls do not always follow suit!
  5. Double cots make for a fun, simple exercise circuit or stretching station while waiting for bubs to drift off to sleep. Who knew!?
  6. Twin conversation is a real thing and definitely the cutest thing I have ever heard. I think one day I may feel a little left out, but for now, listening to my babies chat to one another as they drift off to sleep makes me a very happy, proud mumma!
  7. Double screams hurt my ears! Especially when Bub’s heads are next to my ears as I desperately try to burp both.
  8. Feeding two babies has turned me into a midnight, mummy monster snacker! I am so hungry. All. Of. The. Time!
  9. Double morning snuggles are the best part of my day!morning smiles
  10. I actually do like dressing the girls the same, even though I thought I wouldn’t. Its easier and cuter. Oh and I love love love baby bows! bows
  11. It is important to get out of the house every single day!
  12. Twins are soooooooooo much fun!
  13. Travelling with twins is exhausting but well worth it!
  14. My husband is nothing short of amazing.
    daddy.jpgdaddy
  15. How powerful, and all encompassing love can be…doubled!

 

I think I could probably add to this list daily, so expect another post like this soon!

 

Love Terri