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Thursday, June 06, 2013

Twin A and Twin B at Week 3


I'm in the middle of the third week since the twins arrived and I am still filled with awe and happiness whenever I hold them in my arms or just look at them. They have completed my life in a way that I never thought possible and motherhood thus far has brought me the deepest joy that I have ever known.

Each of the twins exhibit almost the same behavior as they did when they were in my womb.

Twin A is a night owl just like mummy and stays awake almost all the time. I often catch her snuggled in the arms of the confinement lady (CL) when I wake up to check on them in the night (I wake up every 3 hours to pump milk which is a story in itself). She simply refuses to sleep through the night and demands far more attention (wanting to be held) than Twin B. It's almost as if she is trying to make up for the lack of attention she received when in the womb (because she was lying so low). She loves being held against the chest and looking up with her large wide eyes at the person holding her. With her beautiful double eyelids, pointy chin and wide smile, Twin A is a joy to behold but Lordy, taking care of her is a real challenge. The poor baby has diaper rash that's bad enough for the CL to switch to cloth nappies for her. My heart about broke when I heard that the reason she cries out sometimes in her sleep is because it hurts when she pees. Honestly, my stress levels are off the charts because of Twin A - nothing breaks a mother's heart more than to see her daughter hurting.

I about snapped in half when someone suggested bathing my poor baby girl in alcohol - I wanted to strip that person's top layer of skin off at the person's most sensitive area with my nails and pour alcohol all over the raw flesh to give that person a feel of the pain (too bad my nails are too short as I am terrified of scratching the babies)! Even though I had major abdominal surgery just 2 weeks ago, I spend as much time with my babies as I can instead of lolling around the bed being a bum (though I should be as it is confinement period) so I  understand and know my babies best. I will not stand for anyone that does not spend half the time I do with my daughters, deciding what is to be done with my girls - I change their diapers, seen the rawness of Twin A's little bum (which the CL herself said was so pitiful), have they? Do they? Need I explain my frustration and fury when that persons insisted on subjecting my much loved firstborn to such inhumane torture in the name of some old myth that has no place in science or modern medicine? Alcohol on raw flesh, a baby's raw flesh , MY daughter's flesh -  my mind can't accept this, my heart can never forgive.

There is no tolerance or room for any mistakes when it comes to my babies - if anything bad happens to them, let it be my mistake, not because I stood by and watched. I can live with a wrong decision I made if on hindsight it turned out to be wrong, but I can't live with being that mother who gave in to others knowing in her heart it was the wrong but easy choice to make - as my sister rightly put it, shame on me if I did! I could never live with myself....

Now, Twin B - Twin B is the delight of my heart and is able to sleep and feed well. She moves her head about quite a bit which reminds me of the sweet feeling I had carrying her high in my womb and feeling her head pushing out. The only time Twin B cries is for food and she can sleep through a soiled diaper. The first time my CEB caught me crying back home after delivery was when I recounted to him how guilty I felt to find my baby girl lying in a poo and pee filled diaper...simply because her older sister requires so much of everyone's time and energy that it is almost as if my little Twin B is punished by being neglected for being a good baby. This is yet another stress factor and source of tears for me. I feel immeasurably guilty and no matter how tired I am, I will make sure I feed her and change her every day. How can I possibly listen to those insisting I rest and recover in bed?

As I said, Twin B is a mini me and now has a double chin to boot (though I must say I am at my thinnest in years now thanks to breastfeeding). She rarely smiles unlike Twin A but I have caught her twice thus far and like a shooting star, those fleeting moments are forever imprinted in my heart. She is very expressive and I have heaps of fun and laughter when I am feeding her. The way she purses her lips, sticks her tongue up to the roof of her mouth and vigorously shakes her head from side to side when she rejects the bottle has me and the CL laughing till we are in stitches!

At this age, babies are learning to recognize faces and voices and though a well-meaning colleague once advised me that babies won't remember who changed their nappies or fed them, I still do all that happily. Not so much for them to remember, but for me. For I want to do all I can for them - why suffer so much the entire pregnancy and birth them if I cannot do the least for them such as to make sure their basic needs are met? Why miss a single moment of their growing up, their development by spending time away from them instead of  holding them to feed, burping them or even changing their diapers?

I swore during my pregnancy days when I was suffering so much that whatever money could buy, could solve, I would spend, And I have held true to my word - these are premium babies whom I have hired a confinement lady to take care of for the first 3 months of their lives when they are most fragile and delicate. I cannot and will not stand for having 1 twin wail her lungs out pitifully while I am holding the other wailing too and the maid is busy preparing their feeds. That expenditure alone for the maid and CL is in the 5 digits. Necessary? Yes. Will die without? No, one can always make do somehow. So why?

Other than the fact that I cannot split myself in two so as to give both all the time and attention they deserve, I have traveled to my heart's content - to South America, London, USA and South Africa all on SQ business class to and fro in the past two years alone (not to mention my other trips around Asia such as Japan, HongKong etc), I have pampered myself and have being pampered with my fill of branded goods and jewels - diamonds, Chanel/Ferragamo/Burburry/Miumiu/LV bags, Dior shoes, Boss suits and clothes - nowhere as lavish as my sister's collection but the point is that I do not crave or want anything material for myself anymore. So whatever I have now to spend,  I will spare no expense on the twins (instead of myself as before) to give them no less than what I can afford. Esp physical matters and education wise.

And it isn't just money I would spend on the twins. I would do anything to make sure their needs are met, to secure their health, future and well being. Give up my life for them? I couldn't put a gun to my head fast enough. Sever relationships that would harm them? I couldn't close the doors fast enough. Do without? I could, but not my babies. Get up every three hours around the clock to pump milk? I do. Wake up at 6am instead of  my past 9am/11am waking hours? I do. Despite my CEB telling me I never would be able to as I have always enjoyed staying in bed as late as possible. Put myself through a C-section instead of insisting on a natural delivery despite my terror of being sliced open and having a needle jabbed into my spinal column? The 10cm cut across my skin, tissue, muscle and organ is evidence that I would do whatever it takes for the twins to be born safely. Suffer the agony of breastfeeding? I have and I would do it all over again for them.

I know this in my heart: If I have to fight tooth and nail for them to be safe, I will rip apart anyone who dares threaten their well being in any way, even if the person that threatens them is someone close to me. For my twins are my everything, they are the now, the future, and I will do everything in and for their best interest, no matter what my own feelings or needs are. And sometimes, it isn't always outright fighting for them that will secure the best for them, but sometimes, swallowing a bitter pill and suffering for them.

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