Tuesday, September 24, 2019

Baby Book: 7 Months

I actually wrote baby book posts for each month, however life with twins and pumping was too much for me and I never posted several. Trying to go back and correct that now, so I can enjoy the history.


It seems impossible to believe, but the babies are now 7 months old! In the space of 4 days, both figured out how to consistently roll back to front. Neither can roll the other way right now, although A did quite a bit of that weeks ago. What the heck, kid? Our lives are now a constant game of watching a baby roll, waiting until they start wailing while hoping they'll figure out how to roll themselves back, then flipping them back over. Mostly it's amusing, the one place it isn't is with sleep. They'll now roll when they wake from sleep and naps, and then freak out rather than going back to sleep. That isn't ideal.

When on their tummies, T is figuring out how to use her feet to lift her butt in the air. She's starting to get her knees under her, but doesn't lift her head all that high. A does this great back bend so his head and feet are both in the air. He's got great neck control and will happily prop himself up on his arms, but he has no clue that legs should go down, not up!

T is getting fussier. She's got this shriek that she'll let loose if she's on her back and not happy. Once you pick her up or sit her up, she'll stop. We spend a lot of time together in the carrier on weekends, which I mostly love. I think her shriek is related to reflux, because she seems to do it most often right before spitting up, then she'll stop and be content again after. That also aligns with less shrieking when being upright. I'll ask her ped about reflux meds if it keeps up.

T continues to be the curious one. She seems to get bored if left on her jungle mat (or anywhere else) for too long. Hanging out in the carrier, she'll spend the entire time looking around, eyes wide, chewing on the carrier's strap. It's adorable to see her happy and inquisitive like that. We bought a jumper for them over the weekend. DH showed T how to use the toys on it, and she immediately started mimicking him and playing with them. Alas, she's about an inch too short to really reach them yet, so she just got frustrated. I can't wait for her to be bigger so she can enjoy it more. She is obvious in understanding that there are toys around her that she wants to play with but can't yet reach. You can see the wheels turning! She did figure out how to jump and it makes her so happy. She'll have the biggest smiles we've ever seen on her face when she's jumping. I melt a little each time.

A is still his smiley, loveable self. He's so delightfully happy most of the time. He's more laid back than his sister, but he's also less curious. He'll chill on his mat for much longer. When showed the jumper toys, he mostly sat, smiled, and bounced a bit. He also only plays with things right at hand - there's no obvious desire to reach things still out of reach.

Both kids love Raffi songs. T loves her baths now, A tolerates them. They love watching people eat, so I think we're getting ready for food like we should be. We're able to space out bottles further, but give bigger feeds, which is nice. We've been taking them out shopping with us on the weekend. It's great for them to get out and see the world, but it's suboptimal because it always interferes with naptime, and then we have cranky or shrieky babies.

Monday, September 2, 2019

10 weeks, 2 pounds

Grief is an odd thing, reminding me of shadows cast by the trees in our yard as the day progresses: the form changes constantly, but often returns to familiar patterns.

Since A and T's arrival, my grief over losing Alexis, Zoe, and Quinn hasn't gone away. In some ways, it's actually intensified. What has gone away is the fear and the heartbreak of the possibility of a life without living children. That worry and that grief, which were huge, are memories. Today I have so much joy from interacting with A and T. Watching them grow and discover their world is amazing.

At the same time, I feel my grief has grown, shifted back to something closer to how I felt shortly after my later losses. That's because I suddenly understand exactly what Alexis, Zoe, and Quinn missed. Seeing what my living children get to experience and knowing that their big sisters never got that opportunity makes me understand what they missed. Back then, I felt intense grief because I'd just lost a dream for their lives and mine. That intensity faded over time. Now it's more acute again, as I know, truly know, what I was losing, when I lost them.

I also struggle with the knowledge that Quinn was born at 21 weeks, 3 days and A and T were born at 31 weeks 4 days. Quinn was just under a pound, A and T were about three and a half. Ten weeks. Ten weeks and two pounds is all that separates healthy, happy children from crushing loss. Two pounds - that's less than almost anything you could buy at Costco. It's lighter than a pair of shoes. It's nothing, and yet it was literally everything. Ten weeks? While the 8 weeks of T's NICU stay were long in some ways, they went by in a flash. How could something so minuscule as 10 weeks and 2 pounds be so life altering? I want to find some sense in it, some meaning, but there isn't any. The sense is that three equally minuscule fiber bands around my cervix were also life altering, but in a positive way.