It Began with a BBFT

Baby Ben is now 2 weeks old and life is starting to settle down a bit.  One of the things that people have been asking us is how the twins are handling our new addition.  We have been talking about 'baby Benson' for months, trying to get it into their two year old brains that they were going to have a little brother. They memorized that 'baby Benson is in mommy's tummy', but I honestly don't think they had any clue that he was indeed a real baby.  I tried to be a good mom and prepare them--I got books about the topic from the library (by the way, those aren't as helpful as you'd think--in nearly every one there is something about hating the baby, even the family dogs weren't happy about the baby and wanted to bury it in the backyard. Granted they have redeeming endings, but do you think it's helpful to plant the idea of burying the baby in the backyard in my toddler's head?). I made them their own little photo books books about their transition from mommy's tummy through infanthood, and now as big toddlers. We bought gifts to give them 'from Benson'.  I was unsure of what they might do when we brought a screaming, squirming infant into their lives (and into our little 1100 square foot home). I wasn't too worried about Grace because she is quite the nurturer. She will hold and rock her babies very gently while Lydia either yells 'no baby!' or shoves hers under the ottoman. She can be nurturing to her stuffed sneetch toy that she loves to pieces so that alone gave me hope--I guess with Lydia she will pick and choose who gets her TLC.

Well, their first look at him in the hospital was not as monumental as I thought it would be.  They peeked at him while I showed them his little fingers and toes . . . their interest lasted all of about 10 seconds before they were over it and just wanted to play with our iphones and climb around the hospital room. So far so good I thought.

When we came home, it was sort of the same reaction.  Sure, they wanted to be held whenever I was holding him, but they didn't have a ton of interest in him and they definitely did not show any tendency toward wanting to bury him in the backyard (what a relief).

Then the time came for them to be present for a feeding--we figured they had to see it sometime. So, first we talked all about it. Ryan even whipped out the word 'milk glands'. I thought that they would definitely be traumatized by this process. We explained how Ben drinks 'mommy's milk' and they drink cow's milk and where exactly the milk came from and we tried to use anatomically correct words--so if my kids point out where your nipples are I apologize in advance.  After the long explanation, Grace pointed to my arm and said 'arm milk'?  I think after our in depth explanation she thought any body part could produce milk.  When the actual feeding occurred they showed a bit of interest but then were off doing their own thing.  I have seen Grace trying to breastfeed her dolls though.

So, in general we have settled into our new life without major mishap yet. I do have to keep one arm free during feedings to deflect the toddler bodies flying by. They sort of respect him as much as one of our couch pillows, so I am still very cautious of those two sticky little toddlers (my showers either involve bringing baby into the bathroom in his bouncy seat or talking the twins into a fun 'girls shower' where all 3 of us pile in).  But to their credit, every day they congenially say 'Hi Baby Benson!' and at night "Good night baby Benson!" and even give him the occasional kiss (on the top of his head only--don't want any of my pediatric friends to panic, I know RSV is rampant still). Sure, it's hard to share mommy and daddy, and I don't think it's a coincidence that in the last 2 weeks the terrible two's seem to have come into full bloom (which is another post entirely--I'm hoping to catch a classic moment on video) but they haven't gotten out a shovel yet to bury him in the backyard and Lydia hasn't yet tried to shove him under the ottoman--it's the little miracles to rejoice over :)

I think the only people that can identify with the idea of hospital stay being a mini vacation are moms and super driven crazy type A people.  I am sure it sounds crazy that the last several days have seemed like a little getaway for me but it's true.  I am the kind of person that just can't stop 'doing'. I am constantly making to do lists and eagerly checking them off. Relaxing doesn't necessarily come easy--unless I don't have a choice. If you put  me in an environment where laundry, dishes, and vacuuming are not an option then I am quite good at seizing the moment and really enjoying some down time.  That is exactly what the last 4 days have been.

While the rest of Columbus has been going about their daily routines in single digit temperatures we have been holed up in a cozy hospital room (yes, a hospital room can be cozy believe it or not) with a warm and cuddly newborn--and our laptops, cell phones, ipad and nook of course (we can't be totally cut off from the real world, that's just craziness).  Sure, I have had to endure significant invasion of privacy every 4 hours and I literally shuffle to the bathroom but isn't that a small price to pay for meals delivered to your room, a TV that can be positioned 4 inches from your face, an endless supply of ice chips and most of all, a break from my usual mommy/work responsibilities.  What could be better than sitting on an adjustable bed snuggling a sleeping newborn on your chest while catching up on hulu shows?  Best of all, Ryan has been with me on most of this mini vacation. Of course it is not a typical couples vacation--he sleeps across the room on a vinyl couch with hospital sheets and blankets while a revolving door of medical professionals violate the privacy of his wife and newborn child.

I must go off on a quick yet funny tangent about the hilarity of this scenario of multiple healthcare workers wandering into your dark room at all hours of the night.  I can be woken up from a dead sleep and be very coherent, but the same cannot be said for Ryan. He is so confused when all of these different people come in. He sits up bleary eyed and tries to look alert when people come in but usually fails miserably.  Our usual conversation throughout the night:
Ryan: 'who was that?'
Heather: 'it was the PCA',
Ryan: 'oh, what's that?' . . . 30 minutes later

Ryan: 'was that the PCA?'
Heather: 'no, that was Dr. Turner who delivered our baby'

30 minutes later

Ryan: 'did you feed the baby?'
Heather: 'yes, about three times throughout the night'
Ryan: 'oh, when did he get in here?'

Anyhow, I digress. . .

Not only have these last few days given me downtime to relax, but I find that there is nothing like a post partum hospital stay to bond your marriage. You think I am kidding, but when I reflect on our two birthing experiences and the days that followed I really think it brought us closer as a couple. Of course one of the obvious reasons is that we brought a child (or children) into the world and into our family. However, the less obvious reasons for this bonding (but I think those of you that have been through it would agree with me) involve the concept of complete trust and dependency on your husband during the days following the birth of your child and his willingness to step up to the plate at this time and not think you are the most disgusting woman on the face of the earth.  I mean, when you have to ask another human to pull up your underwear for you--that takes some vulnerability--and the underwear thing is a very mild example of post partum vulnerability (I don't want to scare off people contemplating parenthood) that occurs thanks to the miracle of childbirth. Being a vulnerable person is not my usual M.O. so having to play this role, and also having Ryan still respect me through it all is a marriage building moment.

So as checkout time looms closer and I write this from the lovely organizational tray that conveniently swings over my bed I lament the end of our mini vacation . . . but I am looking forward to jumping back into life as a mother of three and a family of five.

So, Honey, warm up the minivan, we're coming home.


Some pics from our 'vacation'

So we aren't new to this parenthood thing--we went through that glorious transition nearly 2.5 years ago with our two wonderful girls--and although we have been eagerly awaiting little Baby B #3's arrival for 9 months I thought I was prepared for the shock and awe of the 'bringing baby into the world' process since it was not necessarily going to be a new experience.  I am not talking about the actual logistics of going from point A (intrauterine life) to point B (extrauterine life)--although that never ceases to be cool and definitely surreal. I am talking about that moment when they hold that screaming, red, slippery little being in front of you for the first time and it hits you that it is your child and life is never going to be the same again--and all the other 'Juno moments' I like to call them--that follow.

I was wrong--It was just as much of a Tsunami of emotion and amazement as it was the first time around.

Let me go back a few hours to our pre-Benson state. We spent our last day as a family of 4 doing fun things with the girls like breakfast together (do you need to even ask where?), reading books (most of the activities had to be sitting down since Benson was using my lower organs as a bean bag chair), and even had time for a dip in the pool (I watched from the sidelines). We put the girls to bed and gave them big hugs and kisses--I had to strongly resist the urge to breakdown and cry (have I ever mentioned that I am terrible with change, whether it is positive or negative?) and then were off for my 'last supper' before the big day.  My parents came down a day early to Columbus to spend this pre-baby time with us (before they became babysitters extraordinaire for a week of twin two year olds) which made it extra special.  We were the only customers in our little local Thai restaurant since the rest of America was engrossed superbowl football or commercials.  

Despite my 2 benadryl (OB approved), sleep was elusive--not surprising. I had super planned for this day (lists were made, frozen meals were prepared, guilt alleviating gifts for the girls were purchased, remotes labeled) but contemplating this new chapter we were about to embark on in less than 12 hours kept my mind whirring. How would the twins take it? How are we going to get him to sleep through the night? Is he going to be a newborn that we are just going to start liking at month 4 when the colic subsides? How am I going to make all 3 feel equally loved? Most importantly--when will the minivan arrive? :)

We arrived to the hospital nice and early and before I knew it Benson made his first appearance into this world (before quite a crowd I might add: 2 nursing students and their instructor, a medical student, 2 anesthesia residents, an OB resident, an anesthesia attending, our OB, 3 pediatricians, a PhD student doing research, and 3 OR nurses) and I was experiencing the aforementioned 'first moments' with our son.  He did wonderfully. He came out peeing and screaming at the same time (I am sure that in the world of infants that means you are a good multitasker) and within an hour I was in recovery and he was in my arms.

We spent a surprisingly calm and cozy first day with him. My parents were able to visit and hold their new grandson in the morning. We spent the afternoon admiring our new little boy and in the evening he met Ryan's parents.

I must say that Benson is adorable. I know I am his mom and part of his genetic material came from me so it might seem that I am tooting my own horn, but I'd like to think I can be objective about this. I have seen my fair share of newborns and they are not all equally cute--so if he was one of those I would just omit this paragraph and hope for the best over the next several months :).  The twins certainly had their 'wrinkled raisin' newborn moments that were not so beautiful and now look at them.  Anyhow, back to Ben. He has great little lips and thanks to the miracle of the C-section has a great looking head too.  Some vital statistics for posterity must be dropped into the post as well. He was 8 lb 6 oz born at 8:45 am on February 7, 2011. He was 20 inches long.

He is amazing and I love looking over at his bassinet and knowing that he is my little guy.


And now for some pics.  I avoided the surgical pics on facebook because I know not everyone is as excited about that stuff as I am but since this blog is written mainly to record my own memories I did not censor anything--don't worry, there are no private part pics, unless you consider the inside of my abdominal cavity private parts.