They say, nothing can prepare you for becoming a mummy. And how right ‘they’ are. However, becoming a mummy (or indeed parents) to twins is a much bigger ballgame.
After a difficult and uncertain pregnancy, we were in total denial that our family was about to double in size. It was hard to mentally ready ourselves and the impending due date felt like a heavy burden.
The denial was so palpable, we decided to host a BBQ a mere 48 hours before my elective C-section. That evening, the husband got pissed and I went into labour. Typical. But that’s another story altogether.
This is a little window into what happened in week one.
- Upon walking in the door with two sleepy babes, the hubs had a tantrum after meeting a fridge full of rotten food. While emptying said fridge he kicked the skirting board in his bare feet, and subsequently broke his little toe. His howling was so intense I nearly burst my c section stitches sprinting to his aid (Jo Farah…) I had to lie HIM down, ice HIS toes and mop HIS brow… all just four days after having two babies whipped out of my tummy. Their little ears were unfortunately exposed to some rather foul language.
- The SAME evening he had to give me the first in a series of blood thinning injections in the tummy, something I was assured he had paid the utmost attention to in the hospital. Just a mere hour after the toe incident, he (no joke) managed to accidentally inject the first dose into his own hand; I was back on the phone to the hospital for a step-by-step guide.
- We ran out of nappies in two days… and our nappy changing facilities were seriously below par. Queue a few nights of hearing about how sore his back was… I began to wonder if being a single parent to twins would actually be much easier.
- After just four days at home, I ended up back in hospital (sans babies) with an infection. I got home the same evening, but having missed two feeds I came home like a weepy post-divorce Jordan, at a wet T-shirt competition.
- Coupled with what I am now calling the ‘baby blacks’ (the blues just doesn’t cover it), I quickly descended into a much madder version of Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s baby. Mothers were immediately summoned!
It took three weeks, possibly four, to find a rhythm. To not feel anxious and terrified of this new life. During those early days, I would have happily stepped into a time machine, travelled back 37 weeks and four days, and said ‘no darling, I think a spaniel will be all the child we need’.
The truth is, the first few weeks are a bit of a shit show. Paternity leave is built up to be a picture-perfect homecoming; a cosy and blissful introduction to life à quatre but the reality could not have been more different. It was shell shocking.
But has it all been worth it? Absolutely. Just a few months on and we are getting into the parental groove. Every smile, squeal and giggle is a heart exploding high.
But what will mummy-hood be like on a whole different continent? Will we like it? Will we find friends? Will I be consumed by a longing for London? Will I be forced to trade in the iCandy twin pushchair for a double sling? How will the girls hold up in the African heat? Will we keep our precious babes safe and well?
And will (as I suspect) become the most neurotic mum ever to have walked the earth?
THE EARLY DAYS OF TWINNING
The West End 