Couch lump receives a visitor

My editor was in Utah to visit family and she stopped by today. It was so fun to see her for so many reasons. First, a visitor! A real live person! Second, my editor! I feel so far away from the book world. Usually I see her in New York, and it was like she was bringing a piece of that other life with her. Third, she also brought her darling 8-month-old along. Fourth and bestest, she is also a mother of twins, spent far longer than I on bedrest, and so was the easiest person in the world to have around. I lay on the couch and she never made me feel the least bit guilty as she got my kids lunch, served me lunch, cleaned up the kitchen, helped my 3 yo into her Wonder Woman costume, etc. And we talked books and kids and everything else.

There's a certain look MOMs (moms of multiples) get when asked about the first year, especially if their twins are now three or older. There's a gleam of PTSD in their eyes, but at the same time a forced temperance, an urgency to both be honest but conceal the horror. They don't want to alarm you. But they can't quite hide the remembrance of endless exhaustion, of constant needs to be met. The most common thing I hear is that MOMs don't remember the first year. They've blocked it out. It seems now like a (bad?) dream. As one MOM I know tried to explain, "I loved my babies. But there was just a lot of babies."

My editor gave me some advice. She said, you're not going to be able to give each baby the same kind of attention you did with your others. Don't feel guilty about this. You'll be doing the best you can. And she talked about how twins, while they can't have as much of their parents as other babies, have that twin sibling bond that is unique in the world. It's not lesser, it's just different. 

And she spoke two words that are still ringing in my ears: NIGHT NANNY. Find a night nanny, Shannon. For at least the first two weeks while recovering from surgery. Night nanny. Where does one find such a creature? Faerie? The North Pole? Willy Wonka's Factory? This is my new mission.

Previous
Previous

Space exploration on bedrest

Next
Next

The constant call of the kitchen (and bathroom)