I was confronted with the idea that I needed space. Space from them, but mostly from myself. I needed a vacation. It’s a really good thing I know this one person. She’s great, you should meet her sometime. She’s brilliant, beautiful and better than that, she’s my sister. And she lives in London. I’m not able to see her very often, if we’re lucky its once a year. If we are really lucky its twice a year.
She’s the person I call when the word hello can’t even exit my mouth, when the tears happen first and the words happen later. She’s this tiny little person with the strength of a lion. So the question of where and with who was answered easily when the decision was made that I needed a vacation.
I missed them as soon as I left them. Five days in and I was quite ready to go home. 7 days and I felt…better. A shift. Movement. And when I got home and off the plane, I felt calm. Just calm. Inside. And it was so lovely to feel.
When you have twins, and maybe this isn’t the experience of every parent of multiples, but I know its many, no matter how they were birthed, how long they were or were not in NICU, how early they decided to be earth-side, you tend to reside in a state of panic. There’s panic when you know, especially as a first time mom, that you have to feed them both, and if you choose breastfeeding as your form of food, as I did, that you need to produce enough milk for two babies. Every 3 hours, which ultimately was every 1.5 hours because it took 1.5 hours to feed them until they didn’t need bottle supplements of breast milk. Then it only took an hour. There’s panic when you know you have to get them to the doctors office and somehow wrangle two babies in carseats into the doctors office, feed them while you are there, change them, and actually have an appointment. There’s extreme panic when you wake up one day and realize all the visitors are gone and your partner has gone back to work and you are alone with your two babies. Its panic, not postpartum depression, panic. Pure and not simple at all. And then one day you kind of get used to this new life and the panic starts to dissipate, except for that it doesn’t because now you have reprogrammed your brain to respond with panic in a lot of situations you wouldn’t normally respond with panic to. But there it is.
I needed a vacation. I needed a moment that was long enough for me to reset some patterns and I didn’t even know this until I got home. All I knew was that I needed to go. So thank god for sisters who live in London and thank god for friends who live here and do everything in their power to facilitate this vacation, and thank god for a husband who only gives a little bit of flack for taking off for a week. ❤
I still feel calm.