My monkeys are 7 months old. They are doing amazing. They are pros at rolling over, they're starting to wiggle more - don't turn your back on E or she'll be under a coffee table or half way across the room before you know it! They're loving solids - oatmeal and sweet potato are big hits but pears are a current fave. They're babbling and cooing and shrieking and laughing. They're looking at each other and reaching out, and flailing arms and legs too! They're putting on weight like little champs. We are mostly into 6 month clothes but some 3 and 3-6 stuff still fits, but not sleepers, these two are long!
And the other side of the amazing coin - I'm exhausted. Like insanely tired. I haven't had a good, uninterrupted night sleep in months, lots of months. The monkeys really are going through phases with sleep. We were doing really well - bedtimes started finally getting easier, they'd wake once at 2-3am then up around 630-7am. It felt like progress! Then we fell back into difficult bedtimes and up twice a night, if not more. It feels like a huge defeat. Like two steps forward, three steps back. I believe we'll get on the upswing again but holy crap I'm tired. I miss sleep. Like so much. Le sigh.
The other big struggle I'm having right now is that E basically refuses to nurse. It started with biting me, intertwined with some nursing. But holy hell it hurt, my poor nips! I tried to persevere. I really wanted to continue our few nursing sessions a day. Now, I put her on the nursing pillow and she just starts crying and screaming. I hate it. I hate that she's seemingly decided she's done. I wasn't. I liked those times together. I wasn't ready to be done. It made sitting hooked up to a pump for 3hrs a day more worthwhile, or tolerable. I feel rejected. And sad. Sad that I have two babies and no one will nurse. It's actually hitting me harder than I realized. And I don't know if it's crazy but it's coming at a time where a lot of stuff is coming back up for me about my labour and delivery experience and our NICU time.
I have two babies and I don't even know what a real contraction feels like. Never had my waters break. Never went into labour. I never got to feel the excitement of, "It's time!" I had a week of terror and panic, worry and concern. Being poked with more needles and hooked up to more machines than I ever imagined. When it was go time I was terrified. Terrified that it was too soon, that they weren't ready. When they did arrive I got a peck on the cheek and they were gone. I waited 12hrs to hold my babies. I didn't get that initial skin to skin or breastfeeding, I didn't get that happy family moment of us all together, taking in this amazing thing that just happened. I prayed for my babies as they whisked them away. Then I spent a few more days battling to get my health problems under control. I struggled with needing to see doctors and have tests with the overwhelming desire to be in the NICU with my babies every minute. Which is what I wanted and tried to do for the next 25 days. I can honestly say I feel traumatized from this whole experience. I feel overwhelming gratitude for my two sweet babies. I am more in love than I ever dreamed possible. But lately I've had a flood of emotions coming back, usually when I lay in bed and try to fall asleep. I guess I'm just having a tough week and am feeling very emotional. I hate pumping. I hate it. I'm not sure if I hate it enough to stop yet but I hate it. And I hate that I've lost that time and closeness with E. It makes me really sad to think that chapter is over.
But I am happy and grateful for my monkeys who I love more than anything else. 7 months old and thriving and doing amazing. They are everything <3
