The Twins

It's not a phrase that frequents my vocabulary. In fact, I made it a point to not recognize them as "the twins". I wanted them to be their own individuals- not one incomplete without the other. I often refer to them as "the babies".
I don't know how that would be different from "the twins", but roll with me..


I was just thinking tonight,



twins. I have twins. I am one of very few fortunate to have twins. Two healthy boys. Two boys who made it. Didn't want to come out in fact. My doctor had to recommend inducing, because after 37 1/2 weeks with twins, it's just risky.



I've never told this story, but I want to before I forget.



Having twins was indescribable. The hospital stay was madness. Not only did I have the nurse coming in every hour or so to check vital signs or what not, but I also had to (attempt) to breastfeed two babies. I didn't know which baby was which for the greater part of my stay in the hospital. They were together in that little station they plant the babies in with a note card just behind their heads that said baby A or baby B. And before I picked one up, I had to check which one it was that I had.



On June 21st, we officially gave birth to Homer and Sergio. What? you are asking. Let me explain...

I wanted to name one of the twins after my father, Homero Olivo Aguilar. Sebastian wanted the other to be named Gabriel.

When I was about 3 months pregnant we moved from South Austin to Round Rock and we didn't know (at that time) that I was pregnant with twins. One of our neighbors was also pregnant and had intended to name her baby Gabriel if it was a boy.

She was due for an ultrasound to determine the baby's gender the day I gave birth. Gabriel was originally named Sergio Juan Aguilar-Vega. Sebastian went home to tend to the dog and Sebi and found out that our neighbor was having a girl and came back to the hospital requesting a name change.



So, Sergio became Gabriel. And I can't imagine another name for him.



My mom stayed with me for 10 days after I gave birth. I was exhausted. I had little to no sleep, and I was mad at her for always wanting to hold one of the babies- because I knew when she left I wouldn't be able to do that, and I was afraid of how they would take things. I'm sorry mom.



The day my dad came to pick up my mom, I cried as she left and I told her I didn't know how I was going to make it on my own. but, I did.



It was hard. Very hard. I hardly slept, if I did at all. I would nod off in the middle of the day just sitting and breastfeeding. And that is all I did for about 4 months. It was a rotation of breastfeeding one and then the other and then holding Sebi. Sebastian was student teaching and volunteer coaching- so he would leave early in the morning and get home just as I was bathing the twins and getting them to bed.



I wasn't producing enough milk. The babies were starving. I tried every remedy out there to increase my milk production and it just wasn't working. Not only were they not getting nutrition from me, but I was losing weight like crazy from feeding them round the clock. I remember being hungry- all. the. time. My stomach growled like I hadn't ate IN DAYS. I had to eat every hour to keep up with the demands of feeding two babies, and I was sooo skinny. I look back at pictures of myself when I was breastfeeding, and I can't believe how little I was. They really drained me. I had to eat frequently; I needed to. My stomach would ache for food. It was something I had never expected. I had to package small snacks/meals in the refrigerator to have throughout the night. Because if I wasn't breastfeeding, I had to get up to eat. It was a constant feeling of extreme hunger that I will never forget.



I finally gave in to formula because I was exhausted and couldn't place day from night or night from day or left from right or Homer from Gabriel. And I had Sebi to remember also. I needed help, and Sebastian couldn't breastfeed and I was exhausted. Completely exhausted. I had all this guilt that the babies were taking up so much of my time, so when they WERE sleeping, I would take Sebi out to play. I was running on fumes. Literally.

My Gabriel became my sweet, sweet Gabriel. My Homer was my handsome prince (and later became our Pudge). I had spent so much time worrying about how I would distinguish and love them both equally, and somehow separately, and it just happened. they are two completely different boys. completely.

I was asked by an old high school friend (who is a new father) how I could possibly love all of them so much. He expressed how he loved his new baby girl so much and couldn't understand how that could happen three times over.

I remember thinking that my heart grew. It grew and grew and grew, until there was enough love (and even a little extra) for all three.

(Drennons et al. A Fish Tale, 2006)