Life with Twins

Archive for the ‘Sick’ Category

Flu to 8K

A brand-new take on Couch to 5K……

My flu-like symptoms continued Tuesday…..Wednesday…..Thursday…..

I actually ran 2.5 miles on the treadmill Thursday morning and thought I was going to die.  Or puke (I didn’t….until after I ate breakfast).  Or pass out.  Bad idea.  But good idea.  Because when I did the 2 miles this morning I felt much better.

Why bother?  Because I’m running an 8K Saturday afternoon.  The Shamrock Run in Buffalo.  In 38 degree weather that’s supposed to feel like 19 because the winds are going to be between 40-60 miles per hour.  Lovely.  Good thing I got a free winter hat for signing up!  I’ll be wearing that I’m sure. 

So it’ll be more like Bed to 8K.  Because after spending most of the week in bed I’m still going to try and run this darn thing.  Wish me Luck!  I don’t have any luck of the Irish in my blood, so I’ll need all of the good wishes I can get!

Oh and P.S. – of course the kids were up and about like they had never thrown up (even though I can still smell it in the rug)……but yesterday my dear Father called and said he had come down with it so my Brother in Law is at my house today watching Thing 1 and Thing 2.  And Tim came home from work early last night….laid on the couch all evening, and threw up before coming to bed (but felt better after that – better enough to venture to work today).  What a lovely little stomach bug this was!  I guess it makes up for not being sick all winter.

Newborns vs. 2-year-olds

NOW (and kind of THEN too):  I’m sitting here typing this feeling like I was run over by several trucks.  I’m always tired, always, but this is just ridiculous.  And it’s because of a 2-year-old.  Not her fault, but I’ll get to that.

I remember when everyone told me, “sleep while you can”.  And that newborns wake up every 2-3 hours all night long for a while.  And that I was going to be more tired than I ever was in my life.

Boy, were people wrong.

Newborns DO wake up often.  But…..lucky me…..I was off work for 12 weeks, and Tim took 8.  So when the baby-feeding-alarm went off we just got up, warmed up bottles, got babies, set up the pump.  We sat and watched tv on our bed with our babies for about a half-hour while they ate and fell back asleep and I finished pumping.  Returned them to their cribs.  Returned to our bed.  Yes, we were doing it every 3 hours.  But that was during the day too.  So if we had wanted to, we could have slept while they slept.  Or at least relaxed and zoned out in front of the tv until they woke up again.  We look back on those days with fondness.  Was it hard?  Yes.  Was I tired?  Yes.

But I really don’t think it’s anything compared to how I’m feeling right now after being woken up twice by my sweet daughter.  My sweet daughter who had never thrown up in her life.  Until last night.

Now, they often wake me in the middle of the night.  It’s usually to retrieve a stuffed animal that fell or to fix the blankets.  So I do it and I trudge back to bed.  Although I don’t usually fall back asleep right away.  And if I do, it’s usually not the GOOD sleep I was into before being awakened.

But throw-up is different.  I obviously could not give her a hug and send her on her way and put myself back to bed.

The first time it happened she was very confused.  I walked into her darkened room with no glasses and she was sitting up in bed, holding something.  I asked what she was doing.  She explained, “I have this.”  First glance, in the dark with no glasses on, I thought it was poop.  “Aw man, what did you do Ariel?”  Then, looking closer, I realized it was red.  I became alarmed.  Red is blood.  I turned on the light.  No… is thrown-up raspberries.  Which she had dripping down her jammies, all over her hands, on her blankets and sheets.

I couldn’t do anything in this state.  I needed my glasses.  After retrieving them I started cleaning up her hands with baby wipes for the time being and got her out of her jammies.  Then I stood her on the floor as I started stripping the bed.  After a couple seconds I looked over at her and realized she was shivering.  Duh, should probably take care of the kid first.  But it was 2 in the morning, and our first throw-up incident.

So I brought her to wash her hands and face more properly in the sink and got her redressed.  I covered her with some blankets as she sat on the floor watching me take apart and put her bedding back together.

I turned the light back off, got her tucked back in, read her a quick story and took the dirty comforter, sheets, mattress pad and jammies downstairs to the top of the basement steps.

Ok, maybe 20 minutes later, back to bed.  Not back to sleep, but back to bed.  My mind was racing, as was usual when I try to go back to bed in the middle of the night.  I’m great at falling asleep initially, bordering on narcolepsy, but to re-fall asleep is hard.  I was kinda dozing off around 4 when I heard her crying.  This time I didn’t hestitate.  I rushed back to her room, grabbing my glasses on the way.  When I got there she was still laying down, on her side, in a puddle of puke.  Poor baby had it all over her pillow, in her hair, even in her ear, and obviously on her face.

I didn’t have to strip the whole bed this time, just got the pillow away and the jammies again.  However, the sink wouldn’t do the job on the girl.  I took her in the bathroom and she started crying again.  I soothed her, quickly so as not to wake Will, and knew she was mostly just scared because this had never happened to her before and at first she was shocked and confused, but calm.  This time she was upset.  And extra tired.  And so was her mommy.

I got her washed up and she seemed her happy self.  She crawled into bed with her book again and was pleased that I had brought her a new pillow with a star pillowcase that matched her sheets.  I asked her how her belly felt and she said sick.  I thought a cracker or something might help and she agreed when I asked her.  I went downstairs and decided I better just throw everything in the washer now, just in case.  Then I my way back up I grabbed a Club cracker for her.  She ate half, sitting up in bed, leaning against me.  Then she said she felt better and she’d go to sleep.  So she did.  But I didn’t.  Every time a dog would make a noise or Tim or the baby monitor, I would be wide-awake again.  So when I looked at the clock and realized I was supposed to get up in 10 minutes to exercise, I decided to reset my alarm for another hour.  No exercising.  Besides, my tummy wasn’t feeling the best either.

I never did get back to sleep so I probably should have just gotten up and exercised, especially since I signed up for an 8K this Saturday.  But once I did get up….my stomach troubles really hit me.  I felt so sick.  I got myself ready and ate some oatmeal and felt better.  But I was dragging myself.  By the time I got to work I couldn’t even stand up without feeling like I was going to puke.  Not good.  I chalked it up to lack of sleep.  I never like to admit I’m sick….that’s always a last resort.

I made it through most of the day, but finally had to call another teacher to take my class because I felt like I was going to pass out and/or throw up.  I went home a little early and let my parents take care of the kids until Tim got home.  Upon coming in the house I was informed that Will had also thrown up that morning….all over the carpet… my sickened state I could still smell it.  There wasn’t really anything I could do about it so I just sprayed a little Febreeze and figured I’ll vacuum tomorrow and re-spray.

After dinner we did our usual movie routine.  The kids sat on either side of me and we all curled up under a blanket while we watched The Little Mermaid.  Tim picked my favorite because I’m sick.  🙂   We even got them to drink some grape Pedialyte.  A year or so ago, whenever the last time was that they were sick, I had bought little individual packets of powdered Pedialyte.  It’s more expensive than buying the liquid, but the liquid expires like a week after you open it.  So spending more money and actually using the packets is way better than just throwing out the less expensive liquid.  And it’s good to have on hand at times like these because the kids had barely eaten or drank anything all day.  They sucked it right down, which I was surprised about because last time Will wouldn’t touch the stuff.  🙂  So we had a laid-back night, which was good.  I was still feeling pretty sick and tired and I didn’t know how often I’d be woken up by the kids in the night, so I took a sick day just to be safe.

So…..would you rather have the sleepy feeling of a mom of a newborn?  Or go to work after a night of being a mom to a 2-year old?  

Just for fun….here’s a picture of the twins and the snowman we made last week, when there was actually snow one day.  🙂

Lots of Little Things…..


Thoughts on the New Year: Am I making New Year’s Resolutions?  No.  Am I using the New Year as a fresh start on some goals I have already set?  Yes.  Namely; more blogging, blogging with Tim (more on that later!), more weight-loss, more running (Buffalo half-marathon, here I come!).  Kinda mostly stuff for myself I’m realizing as I re-read this.  Oh well, it’s not like I can do more mommying.

Thoughts on poop: Anyone know how to get my son from digging in his diaper and smearing it on every available surface in his room after he wakes up from nap?  We don’t even realize he’s awake until it’s too late – he’s stealthy quiet.  Just so you know – backward pajamas, onsies, backward onesies, layering of shorts+onesie+pajamas —–none of these ideas work.  My father is seriously considering duct tape (not on his skin of course – just taping his shirt to his pants and then cutting him apart every time). 

Thoughts on blogging with Tim: I want him to cook more!  And more variety!  So after finding and reading The Mike/Mitch Project (look on my blogroll), I’ve inspired him to do something similar….although not quite so involved.  He chose a cookbook and plans on making 2-3 recipes from it per week and then blogging about it.  As soon as we have it set up, I’ll post a link; hopefully you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy eating it!

Thoughts on my Christmas break: Everyone asks “how was your Christmas?  Did the twins have so much fun?”  Complicated answer. Christmas was….interesting.  Will was sick, starting Thursday night with a fever, got better Friday, was just laying around on Saturday but perked up a little bit at great-grandmas.  Then, for part of the night just laid on me until I convinced Tim we should leave a little early.  Sunday morning he woke up at 6, I laid in bed with him for another 1 or so, and could tell his breathing was “off”, he was pretty whiny upon waking, but again better once we started opening gifts, was ok opening gifts at Mema’s, so at this point, although I was considering taking him to Immediate Care, we decided he was ok enough to continue.  By the time my sister could come to mom’s after work it was 8:30.  He was fine again opening gifts for about a half-hour, then passed out on the floor, burning up again.  Monday morning at the doctor’s he was tested for his blood oxygen level, which was borderline-sending-him-to-the-hospital-level.  They gave him two nebulizer treatments, a perscription for antibiotics and steroids and told me that if he wasn’t breathing better after his fever went down we’d have to go to the ER.  (insert me feeling like worst mom ever because I didn’t bring him in until now).  He was also sent home with his own personal nebulizer and we were supposed to continue treatment.  As of Tuesday morning he was breathing much better when we returned to the doctor for follow-up.  I still had to do a few treatments and obviously the perscriptions for the next 5 days.  So, what did he have?  Well, who knows!  Maybe the start of asthma.  Maybe broncilitis.  Maybe pneumonia.  Maybe a combo of the three.  Oh, plus an ear infection.  So he was SO SUPER FUN (sarcasm) for the next 5 days.  Worst.  “Vacation”.  Ever.  did I mention that Thursday (the 22nd) night through Friday (the 30th), he was waking me up literally every 15-20 minutes ALL NIGHT LONG?  Forgot that part.  Ariel got a bad cold as of Friday the 30th, (luckily it wasn’t broncilitis/pneumonia) and by the time they are both feeling better, I go back to work.  🙂

I’m regaining my sanity slowly, thanks for asking.  Catching up on sleep is another story.

This is now.

I’ll add a “THEN” next time.  But it’s taken me 4 days to write this post as it is so I’d just like to publish it and move on!

Med-sin too!

 NOW:  I came home from work on Wednesday the 16th to my MIL telling me that Will has been complaining that his left ear hurts.  When she left, my “real boy” (a nickname that he created) was attached to my hip, did not want to be put down, would not stop crying, and had a mild fever; 102.3.  Hm. 

Never having experienced an ear infection with either of them (yes, I’m lucky), I decided to just give him some Motrin and continue on with our evening plans – Christmas photo shoot.  Although several times I almost called Tim and told him not to bother meeting us.  I held my baby as I got everything ready to go and tried to get him motivated.  Usually he’s a big ham – the kid absolutely loves having his picture taken.  The twins have several play cameras and he is often heard around the house saying “cheeeeeeese” and just taking a picture of himself or random objects.

Anyway, he kept telling me he didn’t want to go for pictures.  Hm.  Oh well, the show must go on.  I figured if they were absolutely horrible because he was crying I just wouldn’t buy any and we’d go back a different day.  But I had a coupon Dammit!  And I was not going to give up on that just because he was having a meltdown in my arms. 

I got him in the car and his tears turned off.  Motrin, reporting for duty.

All the way there, they delighted in pointing out all of the Big “Tucks”, especially the Cement “Tucks”.  Ahh, much better.  The photos came out great!  I will try to take a picture of the pictures and post them.  I took him to see the Dr. the next morning and he did have a mild ear infection and was given Amoxicillan.

The story behind the story;  when FIL baby-sat Thursday the 17th, and again when SIL baby-sat the 19th……they were both concerned because Ariel keeps saying her ear hurts and insists that she needs “Med-sin” too!  I keep explaining to her that we only get medicine when we’re sick.  So apparently she decided that claiming that her ears hurts is a sure-fire way to get some of the sweet stuff.  She’s tried it with me a couple of times too…..I try to explain about the Boy Who Cried Wolf.  I guess I should be grateful that they will willingly take medicine when necessary.  Right?  This is now.

Question:  Do your kids like to take medicine?  Or do you have to hold them down and pry their mouths open?

THEN: Magnesium Sulfate.  Used in treatment with women who have preeclampsia.  Maybe other things.  I don’t know.  And I don’t care.  I just hope I never have to have it again. 

I was on this horrible stuff because the doctors and nurses were afraid that I would have a seizure due to my severe preeclampsia.  Especially during the C-Section.  So it was one of the many IV’s sticking into my body as I was delivering, and then post-op for a little while. 

I was definitely shaking.  I even asked if I was ok.  I could not control my body after the twins were delivered.  It was like the worst case of the chills ever, and not caused by cold.  It was normal considering the demands that had been placed on my body over the last few hours.  Totally normal even for a healthy C-Section patient.  But still scary.

My husband stayed with me, and my families were able to come into my room a little while later.  Of course, the first thing they wanted to know were the names.  🙂  They waited for about an hour until they could go down to the NICU to see the twins for themselves.  Then they came back up to me.  It was late.  I don’t know how late.  I was pretty drugged up and tired.  Probably not as late as it felt to me, but definitely dark outside.  They needed to go eat dinner and go home.  I was glad.  I was exhausted.

And of course, Tim needed to eat too and his family had offered to take him to dinner and then bring him back to the hospital.  I couldn’t eat yet and I certainly didn’t want the smells of food in my room.  He asked my permission and of course I said yes.  Seemed like a good idea at the time.  I would just sleep.

What a mistake.  I should never have let him leave.  The drugs, and I’m convinced it was mostly the mag. sul. were making me hallucinate.  No lie.  I would kind of drift off into sleep and then be awoken, thinking someone or something was coming into my room.  At first I was thinking it was Tim, but then realized he had only been gone a short time.  Then it became crazy nurses with needles and dangerous instruments, and even monsters.

My doctor came in at one point.  Which was scary because all the time I kept thinking people/things were coming in and then someone really did come in.  He had been away on a weekend vacation, but had come back a little early to check on me.  He said he had tried to get there in time for the C-Section but it just wasn’t possible.  Had I been in my right mind I might have asked him why he didn’t inform me about the gestational diabetes/preeclampsia, but my tired mind and body wouldn’t let me get worked up about it.

After what felt like an eternity my husband finally really did walk in the door.  And scared the shit out of me because I thought it really was a crazy nurse or monster this time.  I started crying because he was finally there to protect me.  He had gone for a quick bite to eat, but then to visit the twins again.  What a good daddy.  But he was sorry he was gone for so long….I had told him I would just be sleeping.  I wasn’t mad….it’s not like I had originally expected psychotic nurses and monsters.  He slept in a chair by my side that night.  I was never more grateful for his presence.  But, if possible, I would be more grateful the next few days.  That was then.


NOW: What is Mommy thinking about today?  Ya da da DAAAAA!

Runny Noses.  You know, runny noses. 

The kind that are super annoying to the person with the runny nose and also annoying to the person taking care of the runny nose. 

The kind that makes your upper lip and nose raw because you have to keep wiping with a tissue.  (FYI: Will kinda can blow his nose, but Ariel just blows out her mouth when instructed)

The kind that cause you to break protocal and actually put something on the end table…..which is a big no-no in my house because everything on the end table winds up on the floor.  And when it’s a box of tissues, it’s not like just the box ends up on the floor.  It’s like a winter wonderland in the living room when I come back from the bathroom.

Not only that, but guess how many children in my house have runny noses?  The obvious answer is two.  But you would be wrong.  Three.  Three Children.  Because every Mommy knows that when their husband is sick……they’ve suddenly birthed another child and become a single mom all in the same instant.  At least that’s how it is in my house.

I’ve realized as i’m writing that this post is going to be more about my husband than the kids.  🙂

Because when the kids (the twins, I mean), have runny noses:

They want to cuddle (only a problem when they’re pushing each other off of mommy’s lap).

They don’t eat as much (only a problem because they drink more…..causing more pee-pee accidents).

They are eternally grateful that Mommy is taking care of them (not a problem at all).  Like the other night…..I put Vicks rub on Will’s chest and told him it would make his nose feel better.  In a little, pathetic, grateful voice he said, “Thank you Mommy.”  I can still hear his words in my head.  Everyone say, AWWWW.

Now……when Tim is sick there’s a whole other ball game going on. 

He wants to cuddle (by himself, on the couch, watching tv and not doing much of anything else).

He wants either soup (acceptable, although annoying when I already have something else planned for dinner)

                                    Or pizza.  And he uses his near-death illness to try and wrangle it out of me even though we are supposed to be watching what we eat and only ordering out/going out once a week.  And we’ve already gone out twice this week as it is.  And we will be going out Saturday and having pizza Sunday.  And we’re supposed to be saving money.  But somehow his pathetic-ness always wins me over.  (Probably because I wouldn’t really mind pizza either and I have no self-control, but that’s besides the point).

He is pretty grateful…..although doesn’t do much to return the favor if HEAVEN FORBID…….I get sick and need a break.  Unless I really am on death’s door.  Which hasn’t happened yet.

Although, I have to say…..a couple weeks ago when I was achy….he did bring me home a pumpkin latte.  And came home early so I didn’t have to deal with twins and making dinner alone.  But he did talk me into ordering pizza.

This is now.

THEN:  The time has come.  Although time seemed to have slowed down indefinitely for the past 8 hours, somehow it was 4:00 and time for us to get ready for the C-section.

And I mean US.  Everyone was on-hand.  I had drugs already pumping through my system (Magnesium Sulfate, more on that later) to help control my impending seizures.  Nurses were standing by.  My families were ushered out of the room, but waited in a nearby hallway.

I was transfered in my hospital bed.  As I went past my mom…..she told me to tell her the names of the twins.  I knew why.  She was scared.  So scared that I might not be able to tell her later.  Or that maybe we wouldn’t have to have names anymore.  But I refused (I’m so mean).  I refused because my eternally optimistic self was not going to give in to her worries.  Even at this time.  I had told her she wouldn’t know the names until they were born.  So when she asked as I was wheeled past her, I told her they weren’t born yet and she would have to wait a little longer.  She smiled at my stubborness.  That was good, at least she didn’t try to strangle the names out of me or something.

I had prepped Tim to bring the Baby Book.  I wanted footprints.  They told me it might not be possible, depending on the condition of the babies.  But they would try their best.

They whisked Tim away to get his suit of armor on.  Actually it was scrubs and booties.  That made me nervous.  I had heard a horror story (what pregnant woman hasn’t) about a woman having a C-Section and they forgot to get her husband until it was almost too late.  And it was at this very hospital.  So I was freaking out.  A lot.  I think it had something to do with the drugs too.  They were making me a little crazy. 

So I asked the nurses about a thousand times not to forget about Tim.  Anytime they were fiddling around or moving me around or setting things up, I would ask them again if Tim could come in yet or if anyone had gone to get Tim.  I was neurotic.  I couldn’t do this without him.  That was then.