09 September 2008

Mum of twins

The girls are 12 weeks this week, one more week and they are officially 3 months and we'll stop counting weeks and start counting months. Its funny how that works. When you are pregnant you count in weeks. Then when you deliver you start counting days, then weeks and now we're upgrading to months :)

The girls are doing great and life has changed somewhat. I've joined a mothers group at the child health clinic. The clinic itself is amazingly good at making me feel inadequate and a horrible mother. Also, they (the girls) have dropped a feed and since I've been concerned with their weight-gain. I'm going to be happy once we see some good gains again. The girls look healthy tho, and there is absolutely nothing wrong except for this cold they have picked up from Duane.

So rather than look at the girls, I thought I'd use this review point to look at myself and how I'm doing. Not as interesting for you all as reading about the girls I'm sure, but something important for me to do. As most of you know I've suffered the effects of post traumatic stress disorder for quite a number of years now, and mostly I'm able to manage really well. I've not needed medication and/or therapy for more than 13 years. Hec, I even went through the whole infertility business without needing additional support. Emotionally I'm doing good. I've not had any major "bad spells" since giving birth, I've been surprisingly upbeat and together actually. I've been coping far better than I thought I would. Duane sais I should be proud of myself, but it is hard to be proud of something that is the way it should be in the first place.

I've identified something in myself which I don't know how to deal with. I don't mind asking for help, but only if something is of the nature that I feel that getting help is justified. I feel awkward asking people to come and help me with the girls when Duane is away as they are our responsibility and I shouldn't need to trouble others with that. The short of it is that the actual 'care' for the girls is not that hard. Changing a nappy, washing them, feeding them etc. It is the attention they require that makes it challenging and that bit is the fun part.
So really when I ask for help it is not for them, it is more for me because I feel lonely and need interaction and that is where it becomes hard to ask. I have no problems asking if it is for them, but asking something for me? now thats hard. It feels like imposing on people for the wrong reasons and using the girls as an argument which feels wrong.

For some reason I've cultivated the attitude of "if-people-want-me-around-they'll-ask-me-and-if-they-don't,-they-obviously-don't-want-me-around-so-I'm-better-off-staying-away-and-not-troubling-them" for a LONG time eventhough it is not logical I feel really selfconsious and awkward contacting people

Then there is the perfectionist in me who keeps telling me that if I can do a good job at work normally I should be able to run a neat household as well. It can't be 'that' hard right?
So between the two of those I get exhausted and I still feel like I don't give the girls what they are entitled to aspecially when they are both upset and need settling and I'm home alone. Yesterday morning I sat on the floor bawling my eyes out because both of them were terribly upset, I couldn't work out what was wrong with either of them and I just felt like I failed them, myself, Duane and mostly I felt like I was a terrible mother.

So what do I do? I feel sorry for myself for a bit, then pick myself up, give myself a mental kick up the bottom and keep going. What else is there to do right?

ok, thats me done bearing my soul.. hec most of you whom have seen me feed the girls have seen my boobs, why not right?

On a different note: Something I've heard a lot lately: "Geez, you don't look like the mother of twins". I've been thinking about this a lot. What would a mother of twins look like, how would you recognise one in the street? Are we supposed to grow a second head? Maybe a third breast? different skin tone? A look in our eyes that shows we're close to insanity?... I'd love to know *grins*

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