You Know You're Tired When...

You fall asleep while eating a Wheat Thin.

You wake up from a brief nap because you are finishing some random sentence. (I never talked in my sleep before this!)

You're too tired to walk up the stairs, so you do the mature thing and crawl.

Sipping water from a straw requires too much effort.

You try to read in an effort to calm your mind and the page turns into a blur.

You make the shocking realization that you have been wearing the same pajamas for 4 days. It's time to shower. Gross.

In all seriousness, though, this sleep deprivation stuff is real. I started reading Happy Sleep Habits, Happy Twins last night and learned so much in just a few pages. The first chapter essentially validated my feelings of exhaustion and focuses on the importance of sleep for the whole family.

Dr. Weissbluth has worked with twin parents for over 35 years and stated, " Regardless of how old you are or what you went through to conceive your twins, or whether you have fraternal or identical twins, when they do not sleep well, the primary caregiver--usually Mom--suffers. Sleep deprivation undermines all aspects of her life and interferes with her ability to discover and execute solutions to help the twins sleep better."

Admittedly, I have lost my ability to problem solve. Otherwise, I would probably be wearing clean clothes. That being said, I welcome any and all advice. Hopefully, my book and fellow mothers (and friends in general) will have some good advice for me!

(p.s. Thank you for all of the suggestions so far. And thank you, Amber, for the comment! I started reading the book yesterday and then was encouraged to continue reading when I read your advice. Thank you, thank you!)

Dear Crying Babies

I've got your number.

Nathan and I know a little about upset babies. By that, I mean we are experts.

When Eliza was born, her stomach issues and colic began immediately. I remember Nathan rushing to Walgreens for Mylicon drops at 3 AM the first night we had her home because she was screaming and obviously in pain. We didn't realize we were at the beginning of nearly 7 months of sleepless days and nights. Poor baby. Poor parents.

We spent weeks trying to help our daughter. I did an elimination diet, I expressed milk before nursing thinking she could have a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance, we gave her Zantac, and then tried formula that contained no milk or soy. We even took her to an infant chiropractor, which provided some relief and a partial diagnosis of a hiatal hernia.

After working for months with a lactation consultant and our pediatrician, we finally concluded she had an inability to break down the protein in human breast milk and all forms of milk in formula. Crazy, right? The lactation consultant said she had only seen one other case of this in 15 years and it very rarely occurred in premature babies with immature digestive systems. The solution for Eliza ended up being goat's milk. Two of Nathan's brothers had colic as babies and Cheryl recommended it as an alternative. It was our miracle milk. As soon as she had the goat's milk, she was a normal and happy baby. It may sound weird to some, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

During these dark days (I seriously associate that time with darkness because it was the middle of winter and I often sat in the dark, hoping it would help Eliza sleep), Nathan would jokingly say, "Twins would be easy compared to this!"

What prophetic words. And you know what? He was absolutely right.

Ezra and Elliott have had stomach issues for the last couple of weeks, but the situation has been entirely different. While they do not scream for hours every day, they do whimper and need constant patting and bouncing in order to sleep. I was feeling a bit depressed to have fussy babies again (although appreciative they weren't crying nonstop) and tried to remember when their discomfort began.

If I could find a correlation to something, then I would have my answer. The obviously correlation was to mastitis and thrush. I am still battling thrush, so I just assumed yeast was the culprit. However, the boys no longer have any obvious symptoms, and I remembered Eliza and how her stomach pain caused her to want to nurse ALL DAY LONG. The boys' ravenous appetites started a week before the thrush, and I just attributed everything to that one problem. Wrong.

Cheryl was able to make the correlation. This was the same time that I told myself: Formula won't hurt the babies--especially if they only have one scoop at night. That is less than half of a feeding. Less than HALF! Nathan had given the babies the hospital samples of formula a few nights when he didn't want to wake me up to nurse. And although he had good intentions, I was very upset with him for a couple of reasons: I felt like a failure for not being able to nurse my babies fully, and I thought the formula would mess with their digestive systems.

Well, I got over my "I'm a failure if I give my baby ANY formula" thinking after mastitis landed me in the emergency room. I also realized I needed to sleep and if that meant that the babies needed a scoop of formula, so be it. We assured ourselves it would be okay when we did the math and realized the boys drink nearly 30 ounces a day, so 2 ounces of formula wouldn't affect them too much. Right?

Wrong again. Apparently, our children have very sensitive digestive systems. On Friday, the day after things fell apart and everyone was miserable with sleep deprivation, we decided to withhold the formula. Even though Ezra and Elliott only received it some nights (when I had not pumped enough before sleeping my 3-4 hours),  we thought it could still be the culprit. I received a maximum of 2 hours of uninterrupted sleep and nursed and pumped constantly despite pain.

Nathan and I were exhausted (still are exhausted), but apparently our efforts were not in vain. Four days later, they are completely different babies. Starting yesterday, they began sleeping 2-3 hours at a time and eating dramatically less. Because they are eating less, I don't have to worry as much about not having enough milk pumped at night. Babies with upset stomachs often overeat in an effort to feel better, so obviously, things are improving.

I feel relieved and a tad overwhelmed at the same time. While I am happy that my children are feeling better, I again feel the pressure that I have to breastfeed or else! (Or else my children are miserable and we never sleep and things are no fun at all).  I have been battling some health problems (in addition to the continuing cases of thrush, blood clots, and fatigue, and vertigo this morning), so it would be nice to know Ezra and Elliott would be okay if I missed one night feeding. I'm crossing my fingers that they start sleeping at least 4 hours in the evening, as that would solve most of the problem!

In the meantime, I am happy to see these peaceful faces again.

 p.s. Any and all suggestions are welcome!
p.p.s. Because my blog is my journal, some posts are ridiculously long. Hurray if you made it through this! And sorry!

Reunited and It Feels So Good

Oh, hey. It's you again!

 Yes. This is Eliza's old Amby bed.

Last night, when Ezra and Elliott were both fussing and crying, Nathan suddenly remembered we had our most amazing Amby bed outside in the garage. Less than 10 minutes later, Ezra was happily bouncing in the swing.

Thanks to this lovely contraption, Elliott slept for three hours straight! This hasn't happened since the first week of their lives, so we were pretty ecstatic!

If you have an unhappy baby, Amby beds are the answer; our bed is three for three in the Robbins home!

Operation Maintain Sanity

Nathan and I are still holding on. And today, I can say we are even more thankful for Cheryl and Rex and the help they provide.

Yesterday, Nathan was exhausted after staying up with Ezra all night. Elliott was also fussy, but Ezra has had some serious stomach issues and couldn't sleep at all. I woke up around 7 AM (after sleeping 4 hours) to feed the babies and sent Nathan to bed a little while later.  While he was sleeping, all mayhem broke loose.

Cheryl had arranged a playdate for Eliza, and I needed to get her ready for the outing. Ezra needed to be constantly held and fed in order to be somewhat happy, so I tried dressing Eliza while carrying a baby. She became frustrated that Nathan was asleep and unable to play, so she decided to throw every piece of her Mr. Potato Head at me. She then screamed for a taco (which we had eaten the previous night for dinner), but didn't really understand what she was asking for. It was ridiculous and would have been a laughable scene if I wasn't so tired.

Finally, I calmed her down and realized she just wanted some attention, which was understandable. I was still holding a sleeping Ezra, but managed to play with Eliza while we waited for our friend to pick her up. Suddenly, Elliott was crying and hungry. Ezra then woke up and was wanting to eat. Eliza was looking at me, asking me to finish the puzzle, and I was overwhelmed. The doorbell rang and Eliza refused to go up the basement stairs with me. I couldn't carry her, and I panicked. So, of course, I woke up Nathan.

Nathan made sure she made it off on her playdate, and I fed Ezra and Elliott. He then went back to sleep, and I tried to regroup and relax for a moment. The two hours Eliza was gone went by in a blur of nursing and burping, but I was thankful she had something fun to do. Cheryl came home from work and immediately could tell I was in panic mode.

Like I've said before, something I really need to work on is asking for help. It's so easy to write that I'll do better about vocalizing my thoughts and feelings, but I find myself nearly incapable of saying, "I can't do this. I have to sleep." I've said this before, but my reasoning is: my babies, my responsibility; I should be able to take care of my own children, right?

Cheryl constantly offers her assistance and I repeatedly let her know "I'm fine." Well yesterday, she wasn't buying the "I'm fine" story. She always helps with the babies when she gets home, but she went a step further and offered to fully take over baby responsibility for the night. When Nathan woke up, she insisted that we go to dinner. We decided to take Eliza out with us and had a wonderful time.

Eliza enjoyed drinking out of straws and eating rice.

 I enjoyed being out of my pajamas and spending time with two of my favorite people. (I also enjoyed some Coke. DELICIOUS).

I love having two more children, but going out, just the three of us, reminded me of our old, comfortable life. I remembered what it was like to just focus on Eliza and make sure she had all the love and attention she could stand. By the time dinner was over, though, I was more than anxious to get home to Ezra and Elliott.

When we arrived him, I looked in the mirror and realized why Cheryl was so worried about me. My eyes were bloodshot, my skin was noticeably paler than normal, and I looked dreadfully tired.  I decided it was time to take Cheryl up on her offer.

Nathan and I managed to let Cheryl sleep until 2 AM before calling for help. She came and sent us straight to bed. For the first time in weeks, we slept at the same time. It felt so weird not having the whole bed to myself! Although I still had to wake up to pump, it was amazing to not have to worry about actually feeding, burping, and changing the boys.

Today, I have taken naps whenever I wanted and have only focused on eating and pumping. Cheryl and Nathan have taken care of everything else. I also think we have solved Ezra's stomach issues, which makes me so happy for him! (and me).

After a day of recovery, I am still looking a little rough. I figure I'm entitled to look worn out for the next few years or so.  I'm back to multitasking and staying in my pajamas!

Despite appearances, it's been another good day for me. I sometimes can't believe I feel so positive considering the circumstances. Chinese food, sleep, and a ton of prayers. I guess that's all it takes to make a stressed mother feel better.

Hold On For One More Day

I'm not ashamed to admit this chorus line from the Wilson Phillips song has been my mantra the last few days.

A few people warned me that my body would eventually give out after weeks of sleep deprivation and neglect. Of course, these people were right. Although I certainly have not had a major breakdown, my stride has slowed, and I know I need to take better care of myself.

Ezra and Elliott continue to eat every 2 hours (sometimes less than that), and I find myself living on the couch in my pajamas, holding a baby while Nathan holds the other. Eliza runs around us, and we take turns making sure she is fed, entertained, and not neglected. She is our little helper and has been much happier the last week or so.

While her mood has improved, Nathan and I are running on empty. Ezra and Elliott are not very fussy throughout the day, but around 8 PM, they suddenly wake up for the night. For the past few days, they have been awake and constantly eating from 8 PM to 2 AM. I nursed Ezra for two hours last night and gave him 6 ounces of milk. Nothing. He was still acting like he was hungry. Tonight, Elliott has joined in on the extreme eating. I've tried pacifiers, swaddling, rocking, anything. They are really just hungry, but the extent of their hunger is mind blowing (they usually eat 4 ounces a feeding).

Because I am constantly feeding someone, I forget to eat. Yesterday, it was 3 PM and I realized I hadn't had a bite to eat all day. Perhaps this is one of the reasons the babies were so ravenous. I felt incredibly guilty for the self-neglect, but eating was really the last thing on my mind. I had been unable to wake up that morning and found myself lying on the couch, completely useless as Nathan took care of the children. Cheryl came home from work and took the babies so we could take a quick nap. Three hours later, I awoke completely disoriented.  I couldn't open my eyes fully. I couldn't find the energy to walk up the stairs to the kitchen. I had finally reached a physical breaking point.

Thankfully, I am surrounded by people who can help. Nathan is an amazing husband and father. He and I are a team, and by that, I mean he does way more than I do. He realizes I need rest in order to nurse Ezra and Elliott, so he has sacrificed his own sleep for us. He gets up with the babies, he bathes them, he puts them to sleep after I feed them, he washes bottles, and makes sure Eliza has all the love in the world. Did I also mention that he somehow finds time to work from home as well? It really is amazing. Some days I think about how tired I am and then I look over at Nathan and realize I have absolutely nothing to complain about. Really, I have to brag about him because I am so lucky and grateful

The resemblance is frightening.

So, so tired.

Additionally, we are lucky enough to be living with Cheryl and Rex right now. Cheryl has made countless meals and always makes sure we have clean laundry. She takes Eliza out on trips and to preschool and church. As soon as she gets home from work, she immediately takes a baby. Some days, I know I can make it just because she will be home shortly to help. I don't know how other moms with multiple children handle it all! I am beyond impressed.

Back to Nathan, though. Last night, he suggested (and then strongly suggested after I protested) that I take the early shift, rather than the later one. He thought I might feel better if I slept during normal hours. He also planned on staying up as late as possible so I could sleep longer. Wonderful man. I woke up feeling immensely better. I remembered to eat and I actually had energy to play with Eliza for a couple of hours rather than five minutes here and there.

Now that I have a new plan for resting, my primary focus is eating. I am making a firm commitment to eat several well-balanced meals throughout the day. I am feeding two other people, so foregoing food is not an option.  I made sure to eat more often today, and I could obviously tell a difference in how I felt.

So, as it turns out, Wilson Phillips was right. Things are really going my way today. I just had to wait a little while.

6 Weeks

We've survived another week of twin and toddler parenthood! Nathan and I have somehow managed to keep up with Ezra and Elliott's constant need to eat, while finding a way to keep Eliza entertained. Success!

Elliott

Ezra

These babies continue to drink an obscene amount of breast milk. According to our feeding chart for suggested milk intake, Ezra and Elliott eat nearly double the recommended amount of milk, but I'm not worried about the possibility of them eating too much. I consider the suggested amount just that--a suggestion.

With all of that milk, it is no wonder they are growing at such a rapid pace. They are so much bigger today compared to the photos taken just two weeks ago. I'm hoping they'll soon gain enough weight to reach the milestone where they sleep more than two hours at a time; 12 feedings a day is really wearing us out! They are wonderful babies, though, so Nathan and I really have nothing to complain about.

 Now that they are both fuller in the face, it is difficult to tell them apart! We have found one foolproof way to differentiate between them: Ezra's left ear is different! It's a subtle difference, but it has come in handy during moments of confusion. When their eyes are open, there is no doubt as to who is who. A sleeping baby is another story though....

(Elliott on the left; Ezra on the right)

It's Hard Being Two

Eliza went to church this morning a happy little girl. She was wearing a beautiful new dress from my mother and enjoyed twirling around the house in it. The dress is red and is covered in glitter, so it definitely met Eliza's fashion criteria. 

When she came home with Cheryl, the first words out of her mouth were: "I got bonked!" She ran to Nathan and showed her nursery battle wound. Apparently, a little boy was chasing his sister and ran into her. Their heads collided, which caused a massive goose egg to appear on her forehead.

So that was this morning. And then there was tonight.

The past week has been particularly difficult for Eliza (and Nathan and me). For a few days, she did wonderfully in her big girl bed. Then, on Wednesday or so, she decided she could open the door and walk out of her room whenever she wanted. She wants to open the door every time she goes into the room, so it has caused some definite problems. I thought about ordering a crib tent, but then realized Eliza's crib is broken (which helped facilitate her sleeping in a big bed).

The past two nights, she has been awake past 1 AM. Because I am "on shift" with the babies, this means Nathan has to stay awake and take care of the Eliza situation. Obviously, this has ruined our plan for shifts because Nathan isn't able to sleep when he is supposed to. 

After a traumatic last night, I decided I would be the enforcer of the bedtime routine (Eliza continually got out of her bed for hours and screamed for Nathan. I thought removing Nathan from the equation would solve the problem). Each time she got out of bed, I put her back in the room. I talked to her the first time, but after the first offense, I said nothing and placed her back in the bed. I've seen Supernanny recommend this trick a dozen times and always hoped I would never have to try it. Thankfully, I had Cheryl to help provide moral support and encouragement.

After an hour of placing her back in the room and two hours of listening to her sob for "daddy not to be mean," she finally fell asleep. I went to check on her and found this heartbreaking scene when I opened the door:

Our little angel, curled up on her blanket, holding her Foofa. I wanted to sob. Instead, I scooped her up and placed her into bed. I wanted to stay with her and just hold her all night. I wanted to tell her that despite having twins, she is still our baby. I wanted to wake her up and tell her sorry for making her cry and just kiss her little face and sing all of her favorite songs. 

I was strong, though, and let her sleep. But tomorrow morning, I'll make sure she know she's still our little princess. Hopefully, she won't remember the trauma of tonight. And hopefully, we won't have to go through it again.