Week One with Two

The first week with two kids under 20 months both eased me into double parenting and threw me into the pack of two wolves. I say it eased me in because I wasn't at home a lot of the time, so Alan and his mom did most of the Avery duty while I was at the hospital. And I say threw me into the pack of wolves because I got a good glimpse into the fun I'm in for.

Alan and his mom came up to visit at the hospital, bringing Avery to see me. I was in bed taking it easy but kept Avery with me, thinking I could handle her while they went to visit Owen. Well, I could have handled her just fine. We were happily watching Elmo videos on my iPad. But I couldn't handle the projectile vomiting everywhere.

Moments before projectiling all over me. At least she spared my iPad.

I first heard her cough. And I thought she was just gagging on a bit of saliva. In fact, I thought it was just a fluke puke until she threw up again the next day. But as we were sitting there, her cough turned into barf. All over me. All over her. All over the bed. All over the floor. I didn't know what to attend to first. I had nothing to clean with, a crying toddler and just...vomit. I called the NICU and told them to send Alan back to the room. I called the nurses and told them to send something to clean with. I took Avery's most offensive articles of clothing—her shoes and pants—off.

The nurses were great. They called in backup to clean and moved us to the room next door so we wouldn't have to sit (and eat) in a cloud of vomit smell. And I earned my Mom card by fashioning a pair of pants for Avery out of one of my shirts.

Poor thing.

Then? After another day of vomit, the Other End started having issues. And then she went from the runs to the...Full Stops. Poor thing couldn't get anything moving and would just stand, hug a loved one and cry while she tried to go. One night, I was sitting on the bathroom floor hugging her. Owen in my lap. Left boob out. Avery crying and crying because it hurt. I could have called for backup, but it just seemed like a mommy moment that was a rite of passage.

Two will be tough. Two kiddos with different needs at the same time. There will be days, I'm sure, where we'll all three be crying. But where's the fun without a little chaos? And what on earth would I write about without them?