Because we love you all so much and know you would all love to be here right now, we did the next best thing: live video! Gavin took an assortment of video clips throughout the first day and I (Tara) was able to put it all together in a nice lil presentation for ya’ll. We were actually able to video the cesearean birth, so view with discretion (may not be suitable for all viewers: some birth fluids and blood are visible).
Today the boys are 6 days old and we are all doing great! Eden is loving the novelty of the baby boys; she confuses their names still, but her heart is overflowing with love and helpfulness. She is learning lots of new words this week: burp rag, bottle, etc. She wants to hold them all the time, but settles for lesser things like fetching a burp rag, depositing diapers in the “Diaper Champ’, or simply sitting close by to observe and comment on the whole wonder of it all. I am healing at an incredible rate (the hospital staff called me the ‘twin c-birth poster child’). Gavin is rising to the moment with grace, patience, and perseverance. The boys are up every 2-3 hours in the night with hearty appetites; but they don’t yet have the energy to totally get what they need from the breast. So our days compose of a regime of nursing, pumping, bottle-feeding, changing little wee diapers, swaddling, cuddling, and finally sleeping! Jethro is a hearty guzzler whereas Judah is more slow but steady. They are definitely fraternal twins, but easily mistaken for identical at first glance. It’s the dark hair. In the wee hours last night Gavin and I were quietly talking as we went about another round of caring for newborns, we realized that we had both given them similar Roman nicknames. Judah without a doubt reminds of us a “Little Ceasar” because of his Ceasar hair style, fair skin and noble quietness. Jethro is our Wild Boy, who Gavin calls “Gladiator” because of his wild thick hair, ruddy skin and strong (almost surly!) personality. Makes me think of Paul ( the refined Roman Jew) and Peter (the burly fisherman.)
These next weeks will be a bit of work around the clock because they need extra TLC at feeding times (thank God there are no digestive problems cropping up as of yet!). But by their 40 week date (April Fools Day) things will change. So for now, it’s one day, one hour at a time. Sleep is precious, our children are wonderful, healthy, and full of life. We are blessed beyond description.
Well after waiting for the months to count down for the arrival of our twin boys ( Tara it became minutes toward the end), they have finally come. Two handsome your boys with very distinct personalities. Jethro being born first is a little more laid back at times, a great nurser too. If you have ever seen a picture of Tara as a baby than you would probably see the resemblance. Judah at times a enjoys the comfort of someones arms. Judah is, as Tara describes it, an old man and a little baby all at the same time, he has a scrunched up face and rarely opens his eyes, though he is being more adventuresome with that.
With two nights under our belts I can say “Oh ya, this is what is like to have newborns,” again, and ” I am really grateful for the hospital staff” The boys are eating frequently so it keeps Tara going. Gavin does what he can but a lot of the work has to be done by Tara.
At this point we are looking forward to going home. There has not been many visitors because the woman at the college are all away on their student retreat, but I can’t say that it hasn’t been nice to have the quiet as well. There will be plenty of visit when we get home.
I (gavin) have just felt so blessed this whole time, with Tara’s recovery, the hospital staff, with Eden’s time spent with our neighbours the Hennessey’s. We really feel that things have gone so well for us so far. It is hard not to look at the boys without rejoicing at there creation. We count our blessing daily.
I thank everyone for their prayes and well wishes. We look forward to sharing our joy soon.
We’ve gone from counting the weeks to counting the days. There’s nothing like the anticipation of welcoming your children to the outside world! I have daily ‘episodes’ where the anticipation hits a frenzied pitch and I just have to ride it out. The fantasy of going into labour becomes all I can think about (usually right before bed when I’m in a bartering mood with God). But the night passes (with hourly turns from side to side intersected with trips to the bathroom) and I awake refreshed, but slightly disappointed. My hope is not gone though; hey, it’s a new day! You never know what it holds! Maybe my water will break after all? Maybe not.
One way or another, we’ve set a definite date. Thursday March 15th, 7:30 am, these boys will be plucked from the womb! I’ll be well into my 37th week by then, a very reasonable timeframe for twin development. Already at 36 weeks I’m pushing 12 pounds of baby (combined), hitting an amazing 45 cm for my uterine size (a single pregnancy should only be 35-36cm), and reaching foot swelling sizes that impress my dear husband. Because of our previous cesearean and some incisional discomfort I’ve had this past month, we’re not going to take our chances past 37 weeks. Labor could go fine, or it could be a disaster. I’ve prayed long and hard about the choice; because it means there will only be one more ’safe’ pregnancy beyond this one. It’s strange to face the beginning of the end of my childbearing years. My whole life has been speckled by beginnings for so long, that endings are that much more abrupt and almost unwelcome. But I am a grown woman now, and endings are part of life. So I’m growing in grace as I accept the ending, not a sentence of doom, but as another chapter in the story of my life. I am already blessed beyond description, so premature pity seems rude at this point.
Each morning as Eden and I sit for our shared breakfast, we pause to give thanks. She sweetly repeats after me as I prompt her to say, “Thank you God [shank yew God] ….for a new day [new day] .” So today, from the bottom of my heart, I say it too. A new day; maybe not all I hoped for, but blessed nonetheless.
We’ve gone from counting the weeks to counting the days. There’s nothing like the anticipation of welcoming your children to the outside world! I have daily ‘episodes’ where the anticipation hits a frenzied pitch and I just have to ride it out. The fantasy of going into labour becomes all I can think about (usually right before bed when I’m in a bartering mood with God). But the night passes (with hourly turns from side to side intersected with trips to the bathroom) and I awake refreshed, but slightly disappointed. My hope is not gone though; hey, it’s a new day! You never know what it holds! Maybe my water will break after all? Maybe not.
