Immunizations

I hate immunizations, vaccinations, shots, whatever you want to call them.  I don't like getting them and I hate watching my kids get them.  Not only is it not fun to get jabbed, there's something that just doesn't feel right about taking a perfectly healthy kid and loading them up with germs.

It doesn't help that now there is so much guilt.  You are a bad parent if you don't immunize - think of what would happen if your poor child actually got the disease.  But you are a bad parent if you do immunize - why increase your child's risk of autism and other side effects for diseases that have virtually been eradicated?  (The current official word is that there is no correlation between immunizations and autism, but that doesn't stop the guilt trip that comes from other parents...)

I know parents who cry every time they take their baby in for shots.  While I certainly understand where they are coming from, it never bothered me that much.  Maybe it's because everything makes them cry at that age.  Or, as another dad whose child lived in the NICU put it to me, once you've seen your child with an IV in his head, what's a little pinprick shot?  Or maybe I'm just insensitive.  I don't know.

Last week I took Ree to the doctor for her four-year-old check up.  We had previously been told that she was good on immunizations until she was 5 and got loaded up to get ready for kindergarten.  Little did we know, North Carolina laws have changed, and now they administer all those shots at age 4 since most kids go to pre-K programs.  So the poor girl got 4 shots plus a the flu shot mist up her nose.  I was not as okay with this.

Ree is a tough kid, and she was okay with just holding my hands while the nurse did her thing.  First shot, no problem.  Second shot, though, she arched her back and her whole body clenched with pain.  Her eyese immediately welled up with tears.  Yikes.  Although the other two shots were relatively uneventful, t that was just the beginning.

She was sick all weekend.  Really run down, awful sick.  By Friday night she said her legs hurt, but we figured she was just sore from where she had been jabbed.  By Saturday morning, she wasn't walking right and you could tell she muscles and joints were actually achy.  She also ran a fever that didn't want to break.  Of course we had a family work day at her preschool that day, so all of us were out the door at 7:40 in the morning for a day of family "fun."  The poor girl just sat at preschool not wanting to play with any of the other kids whose parents were busy working.  (At least the boys had a great time.  Michael followed around the older girls trying to get their attention and Leon spent over and hour and a half at one point playing in the pretend kitchen area.)

She did feel a bit better on Sunday night, but then she woke up on Monday covered in a rash.  By Tuesday she was starting to feel better, and yesterday she seemed to finally really be on the mend.  It's a good thing she is done with shots until 2017, because it may take me that long to accept that this way is "better."

The Last Two Weeks in Review

This is my third attempt at describing the past two weeks. I'm finding there is so much I want to remember and so little that other people will care about, that it's nearly impossible to organize and edit all the information and describe it in any coherent way. And acute sleep deprivation is not helping the situation. I'm going to do my best to let go of my perfectionist tendencies (again, the sleep deprivation is to thank), and am gonna just cut myself off and post my ramblings. Editing will come later...

December 7th - 11th was by far the most frustrating period in the NICU. On the 7th we were told the boys would be coming home that week. It looked like Leon would definitely be home by the 9th, and possibly on the 8th, and Michael would follow within a day or two of Leon. But then, on the 8th, a different doctor was on duty, and the new one was much more cautious. We were back to playing food games, and Jeff and I were spending 18-20 hours a day at the hospital to ensure our boys were playing the games correctly (and we were helping them cheat, when necessary). Once L and M wete eating enough at their force feedings, they were allowed on-demanding feeding. Once they were eating on demand, they had to gain weight. Then they had to gain weight more rapidly. Finally, on the 11th, they were allowed to leave. That day we also got an explanation for the insanity of the week. The doctor was truly treating our boys like she would treat her own child. Her daughter has pulmonary issues and she was providing our children with the level of care she demanded for her daughter. More than anything, we felt sorry for her daughter!

Once the boys came home we discovered that for us, claiming to be parents of twins who are in the NICU is akin to claiming to have been to China because you visited EPCOT Center. You got the flavor of it, but it's a long way from the real deal. The first week at home was a total blur.

R was extra needy after since not only did she have to share attention with two newborns, but she had to deal with the fact that her parents had been MIA for three weeks. We read a lot of books, including the story of A Charlie Brown Christmas which I'm pretty sure we read at least 82 times a day. She is obsessed with Christmas in general, so we also sang Frosty the Snowman almost as many times. She and I baked Christmas cookies and went Christmas shopping.

While in the NICU, the boys were primarily bottle fed, and I expressed milk 7-8 times a day in order to have enough breast milk for both of them. This continued at home, both because the boys weren't established as great breast feeders and to allow others to help feed them. One of R's favorite expressions was "Mom pump milk!" and she loved milk pumping time because it meant I could do nothing but sit and read and sing to her. One night she surprised me by fully assembling the breast pump for me. Apparently she is very observant.

Adding a new baby into a family is crazy, but adding two babies takes it to a whole new level of insanity. It didn't help that we only averaged four hours of sleep a day. (Note, that is per day, and not per night as there were nights we only got 2 - 2.5 hours of sleep.) For the first couple of days we didn't even really know what to do with them. They spent a lot of time in their crib. Thankfully they were together in there. Just as we were starting to make a plan and remembering what to do with newborns, Leon decided to cry from 2 a.m. - 8 a.m on Monday which meant Monday was a recovery day. Finally on Tuesday we started actually interacting with the little guys. I even put down a blanket on the floor and they had "tummy time" with R.

During the week, L and M both discovered the dogs. Jeff was able to witness it with both, and said it was too funny.

Despite the fact that the boys are supposed to live in a people-free bubble, we did get out a couple of times. On Friday the 12th we took them to the doctor and discovered that each had gained 3 ounces since the day before. While part of the weight gain was the result of using different scales, they both clearly gained weight. Woohoo! And take that overly cautious NICU doc!

Wednesday, December 17th was gorgeous, and with temparatures in the 70s, we headed out for a walk. We do not travel lightly these days. R was in the front of the double stroller, and Leon sat in his car seat in the back. Jeff pushed that monstrosity while I carried Michael in the sling. I can only imagine what we looked like walking down the street. I'm sure it was interesting.

Then again, everything about the boys so far, including their birth has just been, well, interesting.