This post is not about the babies (who are doing well), but about me.  I am sure anyone who has had children knows about the mixed emotions after the babies are born.  Every morning I am excited to see them and their perfect little selves, and I love to kiss them and snuggle them.  I am not even losing it at night when they cry. 

But not every minute is wonderful.  I feel sad sometimes, I feel sad that I'm not pregnant anymore, and I miss the feelings of anticipation and excitement that came at the end of my pregnancy.  I miss waddling out and about with my belly.  Instead I have this in-between body that is larger (especially in the boobs!) than my old body but not with the excuse that I am pregnant.  Towards the end of the day, I get resentful that my life is scheduled in 3 hour increments around their feeding.

I woke up on Monday morning thinking, "it's Monday, what do I have to do this week?" And the answer is that the only thing I have to do is take care of the babies.  Which is a huge job, yes.  It reminds me a little of being on bedrest, actually.  Because I have only one job, and doing it mainly involves my staying at home.  We go out for quick trips-- walks around the neighborhood, I went grocery shopping without them one day-- but for the most part I am home and have to wait for others to come and visit us.  I have to let a lot of things go and just not do them because there isn't time, or it isn't a priority.  I make sure to let Eric have time to himself, and I am taking time to watch some garbage TV as a break for myself.

We are trying to include some normal activities.  We eat 3 meals a day, we shower, and have even done some light cooking.  This helps, but then the normal activities end and I suddenly feel a little down.  I get overwhelmed by the idea that these TWO babies are mine, forever, and that we are responsible for meeting all their needs.  And that we will be parents for the rest of our lives.  At this point, I can hardly imagine the boys fitting into 6 month onesies, much less being teenagers.  But we've signed on for good!  And when that hits me, just that our lives are changed forever, I feel surprised and not altogether thrilled.  I have always been bad with changes and transitions, and this is a big one.  I feel guilty for not being 100% thrilled every minute, especially after how hard we tried to have these babies and how wonderfully it has all worked out, but I tell myself that this mixture is normal.  What I have does not even touch on post-partum depression, so I know there are mommies far worse off than I am. 

I am trying to take joy in the moments I can, like last night we did tummy time with the boys and Asher is so strong!  He does really well with lifting his head, and when Eric put a hand under his little feet, he flipped himself right over.  And Ben was trying so hard to roll, lifting his head and feet and aiming his feet to the side.  It was adorable.  And I guess life is like that, it is never all good or all bad.  So far we have been lucky and the good has outweighed the bad here.  Our boys are peaceful, adorable, and healthy, and Eric and I have managed to take care of them with a minimum of strife.  But it would be unfair not to acknowledge that there is more to it, or to pretend that now that I have my babies, life is perfect.