everything  seems complex, emotional from all sides, tear inducing, stressful and makes you feel distinctly isolated from anyone else who’s experienced something like this. and even though support would, and probably will ultimately get you through this, admitting that someone else has done this fucking shit is almost like allowing someone to steal your fucking thunder.

holy shit. i just connected twin parenting to disgruntled americans who voted for obama. what the fuck am i talking about?

so this could be considered symptom #47 of raising newborn twins. the weirdest thoughts pop into your brain at all hours since you’re never not half awake/half asleep due to the constant interruptions of sleep and cohesive thought. they may or may not make sense, but if you don’t document them, you’ve lost them. so i’ve documented it, let’s move on. (wait, wait, wait, i should tell you that im on the toilet right now too)

but can i make sense of what these past two months have been like in a descriptive, honest and if i say so myself, whimsical manner? YES WE CAN! (the fuck is wrong with me?!)

i liken newborn twin parenting to a smattering of jobs and careers all mixed into one potent ass cocktail. let’s explore the randomness i’m writing as i shit upon my shitter at 2:47am on a friday morning shall we? (for the record im handwriting this on a notebook normally reserved for grocery lists)

war medic: you fix on the fly, often elbow deep in shit, mucus or puke, putting fingers in wounds to stop the bleeding or using the blown off extremeties of the ones who didn’t make it to block full on streams of urine from hitting you in the face.

hollywood agent: you’re placating one personality with bullshit and one with hugs and kisses while constantly fighting for a goal, like more money or in this case, sleep, which is unattainable.

wilderness explorer: what’s in your backpack or diaper bag will determine your survival.

baptist minster: at times an exorcism is the only thing that will work.

bartender: since we premake mason’s formula with a few extra scoops and a thickening agent, i have perfected the two hand cocktail shake from Cocktail. one word of advice, kids don’t understand cocktail umbrellas so save those fuckers fer their 1st birthday party

day trader: never before have i felt the need to use cocaine to improve my daily job performance. so i liken myself to a day trader in that im constantly thinking about using uppers to stay at the top of my game

congressman: like the hollywood agent, but more underhanded. feeding a kid bullshit and smiles and doing things only for the photo-op. but then when the cameras are off being a complete asshole again. (but then you realize how fucking cool these two kids are and how remorseful you feel for being a cockface and by the time you’r ready to publicly apologize, someone’s written a book)

birthday party clown: not quite sure how many times i try and alter the tipping of the scales by making a funny face, jiggling my tits or utilizing my propensity for fart noises, but to the untrained eye, im a fucking freak in dad’s clothing.

astronaut: walking at night in the dark and your eyes crusted shut you kind of walk like a fucking space man with huge careful steps that are concentratedly soft. night vision cameras confirm that im a fucking dandy when i cant see and im gravitating towards a wailing baby.

pothead: the only way to not kill your significant other is to turn off your ego and forget any plans you had socially and just shut the fuck up. see that couch? make love to it with your ass cause it’s where you’re going to want to be after the 45th minute of bouncing and pacing to quiet a gassy baby or two. the pot is actually quite optional, and definitely not recommended because the amount of concentration needed to actually tend to the needs of these adorable monsters.

speaking of pothead. i completely forgot what the fuck im talking about.

coffee anyone?

t.i.t.: thrust into twindom? is a post from: havingtwinsnow.com

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But throughout all of these attention festivals that you find yourself the main attraction in, the most fun you can have as a parent of multiples is when speaking with new parents of singletons. New parents are the most sensitive, uptight, snobbish folks on the planet and nothing makes them feel more inadequate than when you pull up next to them at the grocery store with your pimp ass double stroller, you’re showered and shaved, your wife is lookin’ fucking hot, your two year old has a halo around his head eating some sweet sweet deliciously nutritious fruit snacks, and you’re so relaxed on lack of sleep that you look baked the fuck off on some seriously primo shit.

It’s almost like drag racing for pink slips. We’re the badasses in the leather jackets with our twins, and those pansies are the skinny, wussy, over reactive parents of singletons in their mismatched socks, tight jeans and high school sweater. “Apppffft. One kid? I could do that with my eyes closed, one hand duct taped to my scrotum, and my dick in a vise. Eat it you LOSER!” *And the hanky drops as we burn rubber towards the cliff*

Yet we really don’t act or think like that, but that’s exactly how we thought the twin parents saw us when we came across them just as we were settling into being new parents two years ago or so. It’s completely understandable to feel intimidated by people who are doing twice the work as you are and don’t seem to be sweating at all. It’s complete bullshit, but it SEEMS that way when you’re on the outside looking in at the twin parents.

Twin parents and the parents of multiples might be better at multitasking, but it isn’t because we were made that way, we fucking became that way out of necessity. And just because we look calm, cool and stoned as shit it doesn’t mean we really are because we’re fucking ACTORS. If we looked frazzled and out of sorts all the fucking time there would be a five foot circle around us as we plow through crowds; our friends and family wouldn’t touch us with a five foot whale’s penis. We would be outcasts merely because we acted like how we feel some of the time.

Would you want to hang out with someone who is so worried, concerned and paranoid about every little thing all the fucking time TIMES TWO? Hail no!

I remember when our first child was born in 2008 how intimidated I was with leaving the house or even thinking about preparing to think about preparing to leave the house. Well, if we would have had the twins first, I’m pretty sure we’d still be on the couch shivering in fear. But we didn’t, so we aren’t, and we haven’t had that sense of impending doom at all when considering leaving the den.

In fact, leaving the house means you get to see PEOPLE! PEOPLE THAT SPEAK ENGLISH AND DON’T PUKE AND SHIT ALL OVER YOU! REAL ADULT HUMAN PEOPLE! Eeeeeeeeeeee! After that first month of staying the fuck away from all walking and coughing humans, you come to appreciate human contact after all. So much so, that when either of us mentions being low in something essential, be it diapers, formula, apple juice or the all important anal lube, we actually FIGHT over who gets to leave the house! Whoever gets to leave the house gets to shower. And showers kick a shitton of ass!

WOOOOO! SHOWER!

GROCERY STORE! WOOOO!

Do you feel even the slightest hint of pity over this? We are two adults who are so fucking excited over going to the store or running an errand with just ONE child, that we can often be seen from the street wrestling in Japanese Sumo garb to avoid staying home with TWO!

Jesus fucking christ we’re fucking insane!

But at least I get to see two babies smile for the first time instead of just one baby smile for the first time.

One baby? appppppppt!

an observation on my semen’s creation of twins & the viewing public is a post from: havingtwinsnow.com

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Julie’s 24hr urine test showed a “higher than the doctor expected” amount of protein (526mg) in her urine and after a few more higher than normal blood pressure readings at our respective doctor’s offices our High Risk OB group was a ginger’s pubic hair away from admitting Julie into the hospital with preeclampsia. She would stay in the hospital until our family increases from 3 to 5.

We’ve gone through tears and crying about the thought of her actually missing Christmas morning with our son.

We’ve run over the logistics of having a wife in the hospital 50 minutes away where our son isn’t welcome because of the bullshit swine flu. Also factoring in that he’s doing really really well in his new bed.

We’ve realized that there is nothing more painful than not being able to see your kid.

We understand the need for hospitalization,  but we also understand that 32 weeks isn’t our perfect scenario to meet our children for the first time.

We wanted to avoid it until it was absolutely necessary.

So we took some precautions with Dr. Losure’s help at High Risk OB at Delnor Hospital.

Julie has been taking her blood pressure readings at home with a recommended wrist cuff (we got it at walgreens for about 40 bucks). She has been given the list of symptoms of preeclampsia to watch out for and has taken it down from about a 5 on scale of 1-10, to about a 2.

Meaning I allow her to wipe her own ass and feed herself.

On Christmas Eve we met with our other doctor group and our doctor there was happy with the bp readings Julie has been having, as well as the lack of any significant protein in her urine using the chincy little dipsticks they use.

He understood the strain a Christmas in the hospital would put on Julie if it wasn’t completely needed, so he scheduled another 24hr urine collection/blood test, and tomorrow we will find out the results of those tests.

We’re hoping we can add a few more weeks to our little baby farm up in Julie’s magic vag of enlightenment.

We will find out tomorrow. Until then…

High Blood Pressure & MORE Jugs of Piss is a post from: havingtwinsnow.com

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I called Julie an attic last night.

She put a leg off the couch and heard each knee creak, both hip sockets give a loud pop and the sharp intake of air made her sound like a rickety attic from my childhood. Except rather than being a receptacle of memories and the occasional pot plant, this attic was my wife who is severely pregnant with twins.

While I was doing her bidding during her lovely nesting phase last weekend, we discovered the winning piece of “guess Julie’s girth!” yarn from her baby shower with our first son. Just a few days off of exactly two years prior and 8 weeks earlier in the pregnancy, Julie is a good 7 inches rounder with this twin pregnancy. So she’s pullin’ more weight, rounder than Santa, and miserable when trying to move, think about moving or complaining about the lack of being able to move.

The area she is now pretty specific in body pain is near the pelvis. Her exact words were “It feels like my pelvis is broken.”

Does this sound familiar to anyone else who’s experienced a twin pregnancy? Is she supposed to feel wishy washy around the hips and in between?

I offered to have a look, but all I saw was the ghost of Christmas past pullin’ a four footer sitting on a magic mushroom, that was immediately after she belted me with her hit stick.

Yes, she keeps a hit stick near her at all times now. It keeps our son about 2 feet away from dropkicking her belly, allows her the ability to accentuate syllables in her orders at me and she can move things closer to her when i politely set them 2.5 feet away on the table. I’ve also seen her itch things with it.

One day I will sell a hit stick and call it “The Twin Pregnancy Multitool.”

We’re hoping to hit February 2nd, 2010 before we have the twins. Let’s hope her body cooperates.

I wouldn’t want to punish her for not following MY orders, since I’ve done every damn thing she’s asked of me since she got all “crazy with babies in her bell.”

I KID! She’s not crazy.

She’s certifiably insane in the membrane. If the membrane was her vajayjay.

Having Twins Now: Aches & Pains @ Week 30 is a post from: havingtwinsnow.com

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We first had a cervical scan at High Risk OB at Delnor Hospital with Rita and Dr. Kalchbrenner. Of course the staff was awesome and the scan proved encouraging, as Julie is now measuring at 44 and is, supposedly, sporting a cervix that even women carrying singletons would admire.
The people at HROB are dependable and you never leave feeling like they don’t have their shit together.

I wish I could say the same for Focus On Women’s new merger partner Fox Valley Women & Children’s Health Partners.

We were informed of the merger about a month ago and while at the time it seemed like something that wouldn’t necessarily impact our doctor/patient relationship too much, but now it seems like the common courtesy to “READ YOUR PATIENT’S FILE BEFORE THE APPOINTMENT” went out the window with their old business cards.

Some aspects of the merger seemed convenient, like an office about 25 minutes closer to our home, and, well, that was basically it. But the addition of a dozen new doctors into the fray makes us feel like we’re on a speeding car, sitting shotgun, and the driver keeps changing spots leaving us headed towards oncoming traffic too frequently.
It’s unsettling.

While getting Julie’s blood pressure taken and the heart rates of the bebes, the MA asked Julie when her C-Section was scheduled for.

Excuse me? What C-Section? Julie looked like she had been hit with a frying pan (not that I’ve ever attempted to hit her with a frying pan, she’d kick my ass).

The MA said it was just a routine question, but it was one we had never been asked because when we first met with Focus On Women it was determined that that would be a judgment call come time to deliver. If baby A (Leah the beautiful) was head down, we’d proceed with the vaginal birth. If not, we’d move towards a C-Section. But to hear it asked of us like we were unprepared for not having one scheduled was a bit unnerving. It seems this new practice we’ve been thrown to has a policy of ONLY performing C-Section births for multiples, no matter what. We wish we would have know there was no natural option with the new doctors.

About twenty minutes later the midwife came in and did her best to act like she had read Julie’s file, but it was clear that she had no idea what the hell was going on because all of her questions raised more and more questions from us.

We immediately ask about the C-Section issue and she goes on to tell us that the two groups have not agreed on a standard for the practice yet. “But what did Focus On Women tell you?” she asks. Julie starts talking and no sooner than a dozen words come out the midwife is interrupting her telling us where her practice stands.

Did you just ask my wife a question? Will you let her finish? We understand you are more important than us, but isn’t the purpose of this appointment to see how Julie is doing and progressing in the pregnancy not hearing your opinions on which practice’s stance is better in your non-doctor opinion? This woman seemed nice, but completely snobbish to us because we had come from the other practice.

“So you’re 29, about 30 weeks pregnant, and O negative, when did you have your Rhogam shot?” the midwife asks.

Again, what? You’re the doctor/person in charge of that. “We were told at our last visit that I would receive it or set it up at this visit.” Julie replies.

“Hmmm. We’re a bit past the cut off, but it should be alright.” The midwife spits back.

So let’s just clarify something here, our original doctor group’s doctor told us we were okay to do it at THIS visit, and you are now claiming we’ve “missed the boat” and should have had it earlier? Is this some sort of professional catfighting between original practitioners of one office who have been invaded by other practitioners and there is a bit of animosity between the two groups?

The little pauses and eyes darting back and forth and eyes rolling and audible sighs after we tell you what we’ve been told by our original doctor’s group and the constant INTERRUPTING is beginning to wear on my patience. I don’t give a flying fuck what your professional beef is, your job is to be a doctor, not a politician, knock this shit the fuck off.

The midwife added quickly, “But you have to have a antibody screen within four days of getting the rhogam shot, when was your last antibody screen?”
Don’t you have the computer in front of you? Isn’t what I think I’ve had a bit erroneous? I am a layman, I could tell you they tested my wife’s testicles for fucking asbestos! You have doctor-documented information at your fingertips and you’re asking my wife questions that we trust you to know the answer to in the first place!

The entire exchange between us and the midwife was confusing, as our original questions were kind of put to the side as she created more concerns rather than quell any.

A simple question that we both had was: who do we call when we’re on the way to the hospital in possible labor?

This completely stumped our fair midwife. She actually left the room to ask someone 30 grand below her pay grade to find out the “cheat code” to get out of the phone tree. Which is ANOTHER pain in the ass coming from a practice where HUMANS answered the phone! Now we get the pleasure of selecting one of NINE options when calling. Golly! The answer she came back was “Select the one that says make an appointment and that should get you to where you need to be, if not, labor & delivery at the hospital will call the doctor on call.”

Unreal. If your job was to make a family feel better about the impending birth of their children, you fucking failed lady.

So we left not knowing if we were going to be forced into a C-Section, not knowing exactly how to get a hold of the doctor on call if we’re on the way to the hospital on delivery day, not knowing if the rhogam shot is going to be given too late, and we left now knowing we don’t want to see these people any more.

To any doctors or midwives reading, read the file before you meet your pregnant patients. It’s respectful and necessary if you don’t want to backtrack and confuse the people you’re supposed to be inspiring confidence in.

Piss me off, that’s one thing.

Make my wife cry and I will fucking cut you.

Love,

Dad

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• Home births can be as safe as hospital ones: Study (canada.com)
• Worried New Mums ‘Abandoned’ During Labour (news.sky.com)
• Women need choice, not caesareans (guardian.co.uk)

Leaving the Doctor’s Office Unsettled… is a post from: havingtwinsnow.com

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