It's official: we're no longer a family of three, we're a giant, big family.
The twins are here, and doing well. Vital statistics, for those who care:
Finley Etienne (Finn), 2.38kg (5lb 4), born at 12:37pm.
Genevieve Madeleine (Vieve), 2.54kg (5lb 10), born at 12:41pm.
Finn is the wide-eyed, observant type. He takes very much after my husband's side of the family, though it looks like he might have the snowy-white hair I had as a child. His middle name is in honour of his grampa Steve, whose absence is keenly felt.
Vieve is the picture of me as a baby, though her hair looks like it has a disconcerting tendency towards strawberry blonde. She is much bolshier (and prone to hiccups) than him, as expected from their behaviour in the womb.
I was lucky; all the hands-and-knees gardening with Xander positioned them nicely and I had my natural birth after a five-and-a-half-hour labour.
Due to their slight prematurity (they were 36 weeks and 5 days) and low blood sugar, they spent their first night in NICU. Watching your babies be rolled away is hard, but not as hard as seeing them with IVs, monitors and tubes everywhere. Poor Vieve still has a bruised hand from six IV attempts. I'm thankful they were able to room in with me after a day.
We've been home for four days. Life is a whirlwind of nappies, feeding, winding, expressing, and a few snatched moments of sleep. Xander's had a tummy bug, and my blood pressure has been high enough to earn me a threatened trip back to hospital. I'm befuddled by lack of sleep, so bear with me... and don't expected a well-reasoned, relevant argument as the point of this blog. It's just for the gossip.
I'm at that stage of babyhood where it's all about the boobs. Finn and Vieve are small and sleepy enough that we have to wake them for feeds. By the time we've juggled them into both feeding, winded them, bottle-fed them a top-up of expressed milk, got them to sleep and expressed the next round, there's an hour and a quarter until the next round. I have RSI from patting babies' backs.
I don't know how we'd do it without my mother-in-law. It has been absolutely fantastic to have her here. She offers me foot-rubs, cleans up after poor, sick Xander, and delivers all my meals. It would be so much harder without her.
I had been worried over the effect on Xander. I needn't have worried. He's been a star. He visited us in hospital and was just so delighted to meet them. He was sitting on my lap holding Vieve. When she wiggled, he said, "Mummy, sing the 'Hush Little Baby' song!" I got one line in and, being hormonal and weepy, broke down into tears over his sweetness. He's also come in very handy for the assorted gentle tickling, stroking and prodding that is useful for keeping sleepy babies focused on feedings.
What I didn't expect was how foreign Xander would seem. He seems gigantic and strange. I can't get over how grown-up he seems.
So now we are five. It's all a blur at the moment... but I'm getting there. I'll be fine. We'll all be fine.
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