It Gets Better

Ren and Gray were about 2 months old when I took them to Target for the first time. I had them in their car seats, loaded into the "bus"---a tandem stroller that was a sight to see---and was avoiding the attention that both the twins and stroller garnered by moving through the narrow pathways of the departments instead of through the wide aisles in the middle of the store.

The "Bus"

I was longingly looking at the new John Sanford novel (what new mom has time for reading?) when I felt many eyes upon us. I looked up, ready for the standard questions ("Yes, they are twins." "No, they do not look anything alike." "Yes, I used fertility drugs."), when I found myself gazing into the eyes of a woman who knew. There were two little girls in her cart, both about a year old. She didn't ask any questions, she just said, "It gets better."

Tears welled up in my eyes. "I promise," she said, "it gets better and one day you'll be so thankful there are two." I managed a weepy thank you, but we did not exchange any other words. I don't know if it was mother's intuition that made her stop or just seeing a new twin mama and remembering how it felt. But her simple gesture was a lifeline. I clung to her words for months, in the middle of the night, when I had been up four times for 2 hours each, and in the daytime, when one baby screamed while I tended to the other. "It gets better," I would whisper and sometimes even believe it was true.

Well Target Twin Mom, you were right. Every three months we seem to hit a new milestone on the "better" meter. At 3 months, the boys started sleeping for longer stretches at night, and some of my sanity was restored. At 6 months, we were able to institute nap routines that led to my little squirt sleeping through the night. And now at 9 months, the boys have started to play together. I encourage independent play throughout the day, and will sneak into the kitchen or office while the boys are in the playroom. When I return, they are always within two feet of each other, even if they are playing with different toys. When one moves to a far corner of the room, the other picks up his toy and follows. I guess there is security in the nearness of their brother. 

I'm not sure if raising twins actually gets easier, or if you just become adjusted to your new lifestyle. Many people are used to a strict routine when they bring children into the world; they go from high school to college to an entry-level job to mother or father, and it must be an easier adjustment to make when you life has been dictated by others for so long. Plus, they have the energy of a true 25 year old to handle the demands of two infants. But Larry and I had over 10 years to learn to live without many rules. We woke when we wanted, went wherever we felt like, and spent money on anything we fancied. It's a difficult adjustment when your sleep is interrupted, you are trapped in your home, and your money runs out before payday. On top of that, you're pushing 40 and still dealing with baby weight (both real and sympathy weight), so energy levels and physical strength are sapped at the end of the day. I suspect that both reasons "It gets better" are true: as your children grow, it gets easier to meet their needs, but also you become adjusted to your new life and its demands.

Larry and I were resting on the giant sea turtle in their playroom this weekend, and I surprised myself when I said, "Can you imagine if we only had one? We'd be so bored." Those first few months seem like a small price to pay for a lifetime of entertainment and the knowledge that our children will have each other. Someday, if I am in Target and I happen on a new twin mom, I'll be sure to pass on those sentiments to her. Because it does get better, each and every day.

In Baby News:

Ren is close to taking those first few steps, and thanks to Aunt GiGi, he is able to move all over the playroom on two feet. 

He is a babbling fool these days, and we're now getting random "Mama"s, "Dada"s, and "Hi"s, and he said "egg" the other day at breakfast (and yes, he was eating eggs). Ren is weighing in at a whopping 19 pounds, 1 ounce and measuring 25 inches long. We had our 9 month wellness visit last week where we learned he is in the 26th percentile for weight, but only the 1st percentile for height.

Grayden is pulling himself up to his knees and thinking about the next step. He is so much more deliberate than his brother. His crawling has improved greatly, and while it still takes so much more effort for him to move across the room than it does Ren, he can no longer be described as "lumbering."

Gray is also babbling; we've had "Hi" often and "Uh-oh" once when Ren fell. He sings all day. At his appointment last week, he weighed 23 pounds, 4 ounces (86th percentile) and measured 28 inches long (42nd percentile). My boys are catching up!

Helmet Update: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

The Good

Anyone who knows the boys and sees them without their helmets comments “I can’t believe how much better their heads look!” And I wanted to believe that there was a change, too, but I was worried that it was just their thickening hair playing tricks on our eyes. 

Gray, 4 months

Gray, 8 months

But on Friday, I got my proof. We went back for our 6 week adjustment and Jim the orthotist ran a scan of both boys to see their improvement. These pictures show the life-size shape of their heads as if looking down on top of them. The red line is the original scan 9 weeks ago; the blue line is their heads last week. 

Ren (above) has shown great improvement considering he hasn’t grown. The boy is just as small as he was in March. But that means a growth spurt is imminent, and the helmets do their best work when babies grow suddenly. And the little bit of change he has made shows that he’s growing in the right direction.

Grayden’s massive cranium (already in the 95% percentile), on the other hand, has grown tremendously. You can see that his head is rounding out over the previous flat spot. (Where does he get that big head? Our old hairdresser in Adrian said that my mom, my sisters, and I had extremely small noggins, so it must come from the Watts family. Now that I think about it, Larry’s visors are always barely velcroed together).  

The Bad

We have all become dependent on the helmets. I do not worry when Ren crawls under tables or stands using a flimsy toy for balance. Grayden thinks nothing of sitting and suddenly throwing himself backwards onto the floor. They’ve got helmets to protect them, right?

Except for that one hour of the day that I take the helmets off and clean them. After the boys’ baths, they are free to crawl on the floor. Which goes fine until they forget that their helmets are on the front porch, drying in the sun, and not on their heads, protecting their craniums from bumps and bruises. Ren will bang is head on the sliding glass door, and Grayden will tumble over and land on hard plastic toy. Shrieks and tears ensue, and if one is crying, the other is sure to join in, even if he’s perfectly fine playing on the floor. If any scratches appear where the helmet would cover them, we have to leave the helmet off until they heal! And I can only hope that when the helmets permanently come off in the next two to four months, the boys are agile movers or else they quickly learn to watch their heads!

The Ugly

United Healthcare denied Grayden’s appeal. I doubt the insurance employee even read it; the denial arrived the same day as a UHC letter saying “We’ve received your appeal” and the same day as the postal service return receipt. Ren’s has not yet been denied; I can only hope that someone is actually reading it and will approve it. Once one is approved, they cannot deny the other, can they? I am quickly learning to not assume when it comes to an insurance company. In the last two months, they have hung up on me 3 times (they claimed they were transferring me 20 minutes into the call), denied receiving my letters, and repeatedly failed to send one of the claim denials (I couldn't appeal until I had it in hand). I sent the appeal by certified mail (and also sent copies to every politician on the East Coast) because it's common for them to deny its existence. As for Grayden’s claim, I will re-appeal (by sending the exact same letter), as I have learned through my research that the squeaky wheels get oiled, rotated, inflated, and cleaned.

In Other News

Grayden is crawling! He started on June 30, taking a few “steps” before collapsing from the weight that is Grayden. Then he completely quit all attempts. If he wanted something, he cried until I retrieved it. Until the Fourth of July, when he just hoisted himself up on all fours and strolled across the blanket in the playroom. Whereas Ren will crawl to explore every corner of a room, Grayden only crawls if the action has a calculated purpose, like reaching a favorite toy or moving away from his pesky brother. At physical therapy today, his PT tried to get him to crawl about 10 feet to a toy in which he had shown interest. It wasn’t until she moved it within 4 feet that he said, “Okay, now I’ll show you.” When you’re 4 pounds heavier than your “older” brother, you’ve got to conserve energy any way you can.

With their new freedom, life is getting easier in the Watts household. I’m actually starting to think I can do this.