I finally had a formal introduction to Ren and Grayden in the recovery room. Ren was so tiny that I was glad he was swaddled. I don't think I would have felt comfortable holding him otherwise. He and his brother acted as if they hadn't eaten in a day (which they hadn't), and we were able to tandem nurse with the help of a lactation consultant. Once the recovery nurse decided that I was fit to be seen in public, we were wheeled to our room, the boys sleeping on my chest.
Larry, the grandparents, and new aunts were waiting in our room. The babies were passed around while I told everyone about the end of the surgery and recovery. The rest of that day and the next one are very fuzzy; I don't know if time, pain, or medication is responsible for my lack of memory. I do remember finally being allowed to have something to drink around dinner time; the cafeteria sent me apple juice and it was a wonder to me that in a few short hours the diabetes was gone. I also remember getting out of bed around midnight. The rule for removing the IV and catheter was that I had to be mobile, so as soon as the 12 hour time limit was up, I was up.
Although the actual birth experience was quick and impersonal, my stay in the hospital was much longer and involved. Chaquita (yes, like the banana) was a great nurse and kept me on pain meds so that I was very comfortable. The second day was much harder, but only when I was up and moving around. I had one Nurse Ratched, who withheld my pain meds overnight, but that might be for another blog on another day. I'd rather concentrate on Chaquita who taught Larry how to diaper and swaddle the boys. Because I couldn't get out of bed for the first three days, Larry was the lead diaper changer, and he held the role without complaint. I was very proud of him.
I was the lead feeder, but the boys were too little to latch. Wendy, the lactation consultant, had me pumping right away, as it was doubtful I would be able to make milk with PCOS, gestational diabetes, preeclampsia, and a c-section. In the meantime, I fed the boys formula through a tube and a syringe, much like feeding a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. I attached the tube to my pinky finger to simulate a nipple and the boys ate heartily. Ren never even lost any weight while we were in the hospital! And it surprised us all when I was able to produce milk (Wendy nearly did jumping jacks over the few drops in the bottle), so the boys got a mixture of breast milk and high-calorie preemie formula.
We had many visitors even though the hospital was an hour away from home, and Larry would have been lost without them. He was ready to head home that first day, but I needed to stay in the hospital to recuperate. On Saturday, we distracted ourselves with college football and the boys first photo shoot.
They say that everyone recovers from a c-section at a different rate, and I was definitely a slow healer. I don't know if it was the fact that I was carrying twins or if it was because I was of "advanced maternal age," but I was not ready to go home when they tried to discharge me on Saturday, the third day. I needed to stay in the hospital where the bed, shower, and toilet had handrails! I wasn't ready on Sunday, either, but I felt pressure from both Larry and the doctors, so I hesitantly signed the discharge papers. I was nervous about caring for two newborns when it hurt so much to move. We were waiting for the boys to be discharged when Chiquita came into the room and said that Ren had dropped his temperature and needed to stay another 24 hours for observation. They allowed us to "room-in" for free; while I didn't have any services from the nurses, I did have access to those handrails for one more night! I can never prove it, but I think Chiquita made up the dropped temperature because she knew I wasn't ready to leave.
On Monday morning, Ren had held temperature overnight so we were all discharged. We got our first dose of twin attention as I was pushed through the hospital in a wheelchair with both boys on my lap. We must have passed 20 people, and they all got excited by the presence of twins. The attendant had to stop every few yards to let someone look at the babies. It was wonderful to be received so warmly.
Larry drove white-knuckled the whole way home, while I somehow managed to squeeze between two carseats in the back. I snapped a picture of each baby as we crossed the bridge to our island home.
It was good to be home, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss those handrails!
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