The first 6 weeks

The first six weeks of my babies' lives are such a blur to me. So I will try to reach back into the confines of my mind and recount what they were like.



The first week was spent in the hospital. Andrew was in the NICU, Matthew was with us, and I was recovering from my C-section. I surprised others by being so mobile, but I had to be in order to see Andrew. I already described why Andrew went to the NICU, so I won't recount that. My babies were so sweet. (They still are!)

That first day, I could not put Matthew down. I wanted to hold him forever. I sort-of got my wish, because every time I tried to put him down, he cried. He was ok as long as someone was holding him. He was big for a preemie, but still really small. He had a difficult time with breastfeeding at first and lost 12 oz pretty quickly. I remember trying to breastfeed him, him crying because he couldn't get it, and then I would start crying. He would see me crying and just start screaming. I tried to keep it together and would sing songs through my sobs. It was pretty pathetic. Eventually, we had to start finger feeding him because he was not getting enough from my breast. That is where you get a feeding tube, hook a syringe filled with milk to the tube, attach the tube to the finger and put your finger in his mouth so that when he is sucking on your finger, you are able to give him milk. It was very frustrating, but everyone kept reminding me that he is premature and the sucking reflex develops last, and his mouth is really small, so it is harder for him to latch on. Breastfeeding is hard because you are both learning how to do it. I was pumping like a mad woman, because I needed enough to feed Andrew and Matthew. I was very committed to breastfeeding, so that meant no bottles or binkies (at least for Matthew).

Because Andrew was in the NICU, I let the nurses give him a binkie. Well, they gave it to him, and I just didn't object, because I couldn't stand not being there to comfort him when he cried, so the least we could do is let him have something to suck on. He LOVED that binkie. When he was 3 days old, the binkie fell from his mouth, and he did this downward facing dog move to try and get it, where his face was on the mattress and he was nearly standing with his butt in the air. Paul and I laughed and commented that he is a very strong baby. It was really hard to see him in that incubator. I was allowed to hold him every day, except the second day. And amazingly, after I held him, he would get a little stronger. I was with him at least twice daily, and felt guilty for not being there more. But, when I would ask for a report, they would say that he started doing better and would tell me the time that he started getting better and it was always after I held him. I don't think they ever connected the two, but it made me feel good that he was doing well after I held him. He was just so sweet and wonderful to hold (albeit a little awkward due to all the tubes and IV's). They fed him with a feeding tube going down his throat, and eventually, around day 5, he was strong enough to eat from a bottle. On day 6, they let me try breastfeeding. His latch was good, but he would just suck a couple times and fall asleep. He got stronger every day.

I was doing ok with everything until I learned that I would be discharged without Andrew. That is when I broke down and started crying and couldn't stop. I cried so hard that I gave myself migraines. It was impossible and I really didn't think I could do it. They let me stay an extra day because my liver still wasn't where they wanted it to be. And I was discharged at night so that I could stay with him. I really had a difficult time. It was hard enough being down the hall from him- how could I go home without my baby?

Paul and I said that when the boys were together, Andrew would help Matthew eat and Matthew would be calmer and let us put him down. Ah, we were so naive. Andrew came home after 8 days. He was supposed to come home on day 7, but when we were on our way, we called to confirm, and they said that they were keeping him an extra day. I sobbed during our entire visit. But, our glorious homecoming finally came. We introduced the boys to each other, and took tons and tons of pictures. They seemed to like one another, and they were both ok to be put down. But not for long! Soon (like within a couple hours), neither baby would tolerate being put down. They both wanted, no, insisted on being held 100% of the time, or else they screamed!

And boy could they scream. They screamed for diaper changes, any time I went to the bathroom, for baths, if I went to get something to eat. It wasn't so bad when family was here for the first 3 weeks, but after that, it was really hard.

At 2 weeks, we went to their two week check up and I started bleeding heavily. I thought it was just part of my lochia, but there were puddles of blood on the floor of the pediatrician's office. I was really weak and wanted to go home, but Paul took me to the ER. And then he took the babies home. So I was alone there, annoyed, because I didn't want to be there. The docs and nurses kept commenting how calm I was. I didn't see what the big deal was. Well, apparently, part of the placenta was still in my uterus, so they did an emergency D&C. Wow, did that hurt! They kept me overnight, which killed me. I wanted to go home to see my babies! They had finally just gotten the hang of breastfeeding, and I wanted to be there! The next morning, I went home, but because of the antibiotics, I got a yeast infection. Did you know you could get that in your nipples? It felt like acid shooting out and I was screaming out whenever the boys latched on and wished for death. I really thought I was going to have to quit breastfeeding. It was just way too hard. I got diagnosed with the yeast infection, was treated, and things dramatically improved. Although it was still hard and painful, I was given hope that I could go on.

Because the boys refused to be put down, I lived the first 6 weeks in our recliner. We would snuggle up under a comforter and they would sleep and eat all day long, screaming for diaper changes and mommy potty breaks. I would get my food for the day ready near me so that I didn't have to get up and risk the boys crying. I learned how to doze sitting up. As crazy as it sounds, I kind of miss those days, because they were fine with just rocking (now, they insist on walking around!). I got a 2-3 hour break daily, usually from 3am-5am where Paul would hold them while I slept.

This was also the time that Matthew started his treatment for clubfeet. We drove to Hershey every Monday and he had casts put on. He hated that! Even though I was holding him, he screamed and screamed. I cried too. I couldn't stand listening to him in pain! It was almost too much to bear. I was also sad because, although he was still in preemie clothes, I had to put newborn sleepers on him to fit over his casts. There are all these clothes he never go to wear. Oh well! He got used to them for the most part, but he did scream every week while putting them on (and taking them off). Poor little guy. Andrew slept through it all. The docs always commented that she didn't know if we really did have another baby, because she never heard a peep from him.

Cute story: At times I put would the boys in the pack n' play together. They would scream usually until you picked them up, however, at times, they would start sucking on each other's heads or hands. It was ridiculously funny. You would hear sucking, and then usually one baby crying and find that someone was sucking on the other's head. So funny!

Well, I guess I remembered more than I thought I did. It was a hard time, but I guess you need the hard times to make you grateful for the good times. :) We did have a lot of sweet moments. The nice thing is that my favorite thing to do is look at them and hold them, so I got plenty of time to do that! And they are growing so fast- who knows if they will be cuddly when they get older and are on the move. So, although it was hard, I am grateful for all of our cuddly and snuggly times!