While on holidays interstate this summer, we visited one of the markets and did some shopping while pushing the babies in their pram. As usual there were comments from passers-by. One old lady stopped me for a chat.
– ‘Are they yours?’
Prudent. It was best to check. When I nodded, she went on.
– ‘They must be a lot of work.’
– ‘No, not really,’ I replied, carefully explaining that it wasn’t much more effort to change two nappies than one.
– ‘You mustn’t get much sleep.’ I informed her that in fact the babies were good sleepers. She looked unconvinced.
– ‘Was it a shock?’ I wasn’t sure whether she meant the adjustment to having two babies to look after or the news that I was having twins, so I asked for clarification, and when she said she meant whether I had known I was having twins before the birth, I replied that yes, I had known. Upon learning that I was from another town she ran out of questions and left me to my shopping.
The old woman’s reaction to the babies is not unusual. Reactions from strangers have included the tactless (‘Twins. Oh God’), the lame jokes (Double Trouble), the concern for my wellbeing (getting any sleep?). Even the Australian Breastfeeding Association’s booklet on twins notes that you will get a lot of negative comments from people about twins and higher order multiples. Its attempted reassurance includes the not particularly comforting news that one of the benefits of having twins is that you’ll be kept fit running after them when they are crawling!
In fact because they are such good sleepers and because Steve and I have both been home looking after them fulltime for the first eight months, with lots of support from mum around the corner, herself an experienced hand, I often feel like a fraud for receiving so much misplaced sympathy. There are people in my parent’s group with only one child who get less sleep than I do, and have much less help.
I couldn’t relate to the pity. Until Christmas Eve, our first Horror Night.
We were staying at Steve’s family’s beachhouse with all his family and the babies were sleeping in the same room as us. I had been apprehensive about this – their snuffles had interrupted my sleep when we went to the coast when they were a few months old – but the house was full and there was no room to put the babies in a separate room. Lara had been restless on and off at night during the holidays and I had gone back to feeding her at around 3 am some nights. I put my ear plugs in and we went to bed as usual.
– ‘Waaaaa’. It was Lara, and the time was only 12.30, barely an hour and a half after we had gone to bed. Steve is in charge of settling the babies at night. He got up and rocked her to sleep. She went down. . . until 1.40am. Then she cried again. Steve had been in a deep sleep.
– ‘WAAAA’. Yes, babies do make this noise. At least, ours do. She couldn’t be hungry already. Steve rocked her to sleep again. We slept.
– -‘WAAA WAAA WAAA.’ It was 3.30am. Steve wasn’t impressed. ‘Oh fuck.’ He opened his eyes and gathered his strength for a few moments. Lara’s cries were gaining strength, and Rhea was starting to stir. We both staggered up and both took a baby. Rhea was at it too now, and Steve couldn’t find her dummy in the dark.
– ‘Where’s Rhea’s dummy? Where’s her dummy?’
– ‘There’s a spare one in my handbag.’ He rummaged around for a few long seconds. ‘You find it.’ He thrust the bag at me. ‘What is wrong with you child? Would you just go to sleep?
I fed both babies using my trusty double breastfeeding pillow. Lara cried after the feed as well, but eventually went down again, and Rhea went to sleep straight away. But Lara was awake and crying again at 5.30. In the daylight we saw that we had been putting her down in a pool of her own vomit.
We had a solid sleep between 8 and 11am, emerging close to midday on Christmas day to have breakfast. We were both exhausted.
It was the first Christmas that Steve and I had ever had together, and we were so tired that we forgot to wish each other Happy Christmas. But at least I can nod understandingly when I get those pitying comments about having twins.
Since then there have been a few other challenging nights, though none as bad as that one.
But when they start teething. . . that might be another story.
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