Abbie Meets the Twins
At one time, the twins had so many tubes and wires attached to them that they qualified as clothing. They had oxygen tubes, IV lines, vital sign monitors, feeding tubes, and possibly a few other superfluous lines just for warmth. The cumulative effect was all those lines created a short leash for them that relegated their existence to within three feet of their beds. It also complicated holding them, requiring manpower generally associated with major public works projects to move them from their bed to our arms.
Slowly, those layers of lines disappeared as their health improved. We can now lift them out of their isolettes with relative ease, making the nurses’ assistance more of a luxury than a necessity. They still have their vital sign monitors, but those are easily detached should we want to carry them around the NICU for any reason, such as to show the twins to Abbie through the door window.
Last night, we took Abbie up to the NICU to introduce them for the first time. I always felt this was an important step in bonding our family, like decorating the house for the holidays together or picking the Christmas tree up as a family after the cats knocked it down again. I’m not doing it so much for the twins’ sake; they barely wake up long enough to acknowledge being rescued from their isolettes, and even then they fall right back asleep. I wanted Abbie to see them as soon as possible, even though she’s too young to remember the event. Telling her about the twins is too insignificant; like telling her drawing is fun or playing with the knobs on the stove is dangerous, she just can’t comprehend.
I stayed with Abbie in the waiting room while Ellie fetched the twins. I didn’t know what Abbie would do when we held all of them up to the window. Maybe she would howl in protest because mom was holding another child. Maybe she would look disinterested and figure out a way to run down the hall some more. Maybe she would even find some sweet way to recognize their existence and verify that no matter how scary things look now for our family, everything is going to be just fine. I was betting on number two.
Ellie knocked at the door, and I approached with Abbie in my arms. Ellie was holding Ian and the nurse was holding Tory. Or possibly it was the other way around. I don’t know and I’m really in trouble if I don’t figure out a way to tell them apart. Maybe it’ll be easier when I’m dressing them. Or maybe I’ll just have to leave their hospital bands on until they’re old enough to tell me their names.
Abbie looked at her brothers, pointed to Ian, pointed to herself, pointed to Tory, and pointed back to herself. Despite her young age, I think she processed something, that she realized we have two new babies to care for and we’re going to need all the help she can give us. Or maybe she just thought the twins were neat. Either way, I think everything is going to be just fine.
Slowly, those layers of lines disappeared as their health improved. We can now lift them out of their isolettes with relative ease, making the nurses’ assistance more of a luxury than a necessity. They still have their vital sign monitors, but those are easily detached should we want to carry them around the NICU for any reason, such as to show the twins to Abbie through the door window.
Last night, we took Abbie up to the NICU to introduce them for the first time. I always felt this was an important step in bonding our family, like decorating the house for the holidays together or picking the Christmas tree up as a family after the cats knocked it down again. I’m not doing it so much for the twins’ sake; they barely wake up long enough to acknowledge being rescued from their isolettes, and even then they fall right back asleep. I wanted Abbie to see them as soon as possible, even though she’s too young to remember the event. Telling her about the twins is too insignificant; like telling her drawing is fun or playing with the knobs on the stove is dangerous, she just can’t comprehend.
I stayed with Abbie in the waiting room while Ellie fetched the twins. I didn’t know what Abbie would do when we held all of them up to the window. Maybe she would howl in protest because mom was holding another child. Maybe she would look disinterested and figure out a way to run down the hall some more. Maybe she would even find some sweet way to recognize their existence and verify that no matter how scary things look now for our family, everything is going to be just fine. I was betting on number two.
Ellie knocked at the door, and I approached with Abbie in my arms. Ellie was holding Ian and the nurse was holding Tory. Or possibly it was the other way around. I don’t know and I’m really in trouble if I don’t figure out a way to tell them apart. Maybe it’ll be easier when I’m dressing them. Or maybe I’ll just have to leave their hospital bands on until they’re old enough to tell me their names.
Abbie looked at her brothers, pointed to Ian, pointed to herself, pointed to Tory, and pointed back to herself. Despite her young age, I think she processed something, that she realized we have two new babies to care for and we’re going to need all the help she can give us. Or maybe she just thought the twins were neat. Either way, I think everything is going to be just fine.
posted by Matt at
10:50 PM
2 Comments:
about "telling them apart", it will become obvious of who is who, but in the meantime....on my grd.dd's we painted only 1 girl's toes for several months. Don't know how you would feel about have 1 of your BOYS' wearing toenail polish. :~D
By
CINDY, at 8:16 AM
For the record, I had tory. He knows this, and conveniently omitted the part of the story where he told abbie the wrong name for the bros. Not that it matters, I'm sure that if we can't tell them apart, neither can abbie. She also waved. I don't know if it was at the nurse or the boys, but it was cute none the less.
By
Anonymous, at 1:32 PM
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