3+2=5!

Hello, blogging world! I'm now a mommy of three! It's been two weeks since my world was rocked by two adorable babies, so let me sum it up for you...

Ironically, sleeping the night before the surgery felt like waiting for Christmas morning. I don't think I got more than about an hour total. Suffice it to say, we were all a bit cranky that morning! We managed to cheer up once we got to the hospital and all the "fun" started happening. Unfortunately, my mom wasn't allowed in the OR this time around, so it was just Ryan and I. I kept telling Ryan that I was terrified about the epidural, since it didn't go so smoothly with Lilly, and that once that was done with, I could "relax." Or so I thought....

They got me on the table, and I assumed the position, so to speak. I was hoping it would be done in one poke, rather than the 6 it took with Lilly. It took 40 minutes, 3 attempts, LOTS of crying, lots of silent prayers, and a lot of threatening to put me to sleep if we couldn't get it. Finally, on the 3rd try, he successfully administered the epidural. I was a wreck by that point. This time around, I didn't vomit the entire time, but I did have troubles breathing, had a spinal migraine that felt like my brain was about to explode, a heart rate that jumped from 80 to 144 in about 6 seconds, and an area of my abdomen that didn't go numb. Because of my surgery two years ago, there was some scar tissue that was giving the doctor some trouble. The anesthesiologist didn't anticipate this, and admittedly didn't numb me high enough. I could feel everything! It was too late to do anything, so he just whispered "it's okay, you can do it! Once the babies are out, I'll give you so much pain medicine, you'll go right to sleep!" I kept chanting "I can do this, I can do this" out loud to distract myself. Once the babies were ripped from my ribs (literally), and I could breathe again, I provided a good chuckle for everyone by saying "Oh my gosh, that feels so good!" I hadn't felt that kind of relief in so long!

We were so proud to welcome Lincoln and Ellie into our family! Ryan named Lincoln, and I named Ellie. I'll embarrassingly admit that Ryan named him after Link from Zelda. Yes, a video game character. Ellie has no significance, I just liked it. As for middle names, we just decided to give them our middle names. Lincoln Brent and Ellie Kate.  

As promised, once the babies were both out, the anesthesiologist flooded my system with so much morphine, I kind of just sat and enjoyed my high. I remember everything that happened around me, but I couldn't really speak or interact. I could hear the babies crying, and I just started bawling. I just needed to know they were okay. The nurses told me that they were both big and healthy enough to avoid the NICU. Phew! They put me back into a hospital bed, tucked a baby in each arm, and then started wheeling me to my room. My mom had been pacing the hallway, grasping at any bits of information the nurses could give. We couldn't give her babies fast enough. She was in heaven! 

The rest of the day was blissful. Mostly because I had an alarming amount of pain meds flowing through my system. The next few days in the hospital were the exact opposite. The day after delivery, I got a fever, and somehow managed to feel 10 times worse. The spinal medication had worn off, and the lovely "uterine massages" they did every 30 minutes were unbearable. I couldn't walk, where I had been up and making rounds in the halls the day before. I had a particularly mean nurse that day, too. When the doctor on call (not my normal OB) came in to lecture me about how I needed to be doing more, yada, yada, yada, we ended up getting into an argument. I was refusing to take the ibuprofen, since I'm not allowed to take any NSAID-class medications. According to one of the other nurses, I made the mistake of denying medication from the one doctor who is infamous for hating patients who do. Just my luck. By that point, I was at my limits and just demanded that no one come into my room anymore, and that I be allowed to sleep. Seriously, there was either a nurse or some random stranger coming in and waking me and the babies up every 20 FREAKING MINUTES! I was in SO much pain and just wanted to rest, but they weren't allowing me to. A day and night of interruption-less sleep was all I needed to get back to normal...that and a nurse who wasn't a jerk. 

We spent 4 days in the hospital, and were all allowed to go home together. Everyone was surprised at how amazingly healthy the babies were. Even the doctors admitted to it, after seeing how low their bilirubin results were. To say we were blessed is an understatement. We got home late Monday night, and that's when Ryan and I both lost it. That first night home was brutal. I think it's safe to say that we both suffered from postpartum depression, and still are. Their first day home, I spent in tears. When Ryan got home from work, he had his own little breakdown. My mom had to step in and offer (more like demand) her help. The babies were up every hour, and trying to breastfeed that much was beyond hard. During my pregnancy, everyone always told me that twins find comfort in each other and that we should let them sleep in the same crib. After the first night, it was apparent that our babies were an anomaly. They managed to wake each other up, so no one got any sleep. If my mom hadn't intervened, I don't think we would have survived. She now takes Lincoln at night, and we take Ellie. I've been pumping as much as I can, but it's nearly impossible to keep up with two babies who eat 2-3 ounces every two hours. You do the math... 

Lilly came home on Tuesday of that week, and it was a blast getting to see her react to the new babies. She instantly loved them! She's always asking to hold them or help us feed them. It was really funny when she saw me nursing them for the first time. She looked at me all confused and said "mommy, that baby is eating your booby." The things she says about the babies or to the babies keep us laughing all day. She's such a great big sister! 

Anyway, despite how overwhelmed we are, we have a huge amount of support from our family, and are somehow managing to adapt. I'm so in love with these two tiny babies! 

My last picture, minutes before leaving for the hospital 

Miss Ellie. Ryan enjoyed keeping me informed about how my insides were becoming my outsides. He particularly enjoyed telling me how the doctor was literally shoulder-deep, as she pulled the babies out. OUCH!

This was me bawling once the babies were out. 

Enjoying the morphine as they cleaned the babies

I think she was saying "Awwwww!"

They brought me two HUGE Christmas stockings 

They are SO little! Ellie was 5.11 and Link was 6.5. 

Laughing at Link's furry shoulders

I accidentally stuck my finger into Ellie's diaper, and pulled it out, covered in black tar.

Wearing his "Real Men Make Twins" shirt. 

That's one happy grandma!

My first walk. You may call me Hunchback, since I couldn't stand up straight. I'll be the first to admit that there's a certain amount of fear that your guts are going to fall out when you stand up for the first time. 

They had a purple hat initiative to combat child abuse. Every baby got a purple hat. I used to knit hats and donate them to local hospitals. This hat cheered me up so much, I think I'm going to start knitting hats and donating them again. 

They brought the babies in one morning, wearing matching handmade crocheted hats and booties. They were so cute! I'm going to put them in their shadow boxes

Heading home. Thanks, mom, for making us the CUTEST carseat covers!

We're definitely going to have to get a bigger car. Ryan and I have to scoot our seats up until our knees ram into the dash, just to be able to fit the car seats. Ugh...

I was too stingy to pay $30 a picture, but I liked some of the professional pictures that were taken at the hospital, so we'll just have to deal with the watermark.