Like most of Britain, I live in a small Victorian terrace- you've no doubt seen these in gritty English dramas. This means that we only have windows at the front and back of the house (since the side walls are shared with our neighbours). Also, it's always raining. This means that my house is dark. Like, DARK. As in, really, really dark. This has been driving me absolutely crazy because I've got these adorable babies, constantly doing cute things, and it is impossible to get decent photos when there is no light. (SLR users - when I say dark, I've set my portrait lens to f/1.8 and in the middle of the day I'm still needing a shutter speed of about 1/2 s in natural light. At f/1.8. So yeah, dark).
Anyway, long story short, I got myself a really bright light to combat the borderline SAD I always get around this time of year (possibly related to the very dark house? Hmmmm) and bingo! Two birds with one stone - not only do I feel lively, I now have some photos that aren't just a big blurry mess. (Note two for SLR users - I also pulled out my big flash, which helped a lot, and yes of course I should have done that earlier. But even using ceiling bounce, which is really my only trick, I find it hard to get nice light with this as my primary source. Any tips for home lighting setups that can be managed between naps would be much appreciated. And don't just say move somewhere sunny, I've thought of that one).
So anyway, less talking, more cuteness, yes? (And apologies, by the way, to anybody who is getting a thankyou card from me because these are the same photos. Pretend to be surprised, okay?)
I really, really underestimated how hard it is to get two babies looking at the camera at the same time. Or even with their heads facing in approximately the right direction. Trying for smiles as well? Or matching clothes? Hmmmm, not yet.
I'm so pleased about how chubby they are getting.
This is beautiful baby L. and her little feet She has found her hands and loves to smile and shout and this is her pirate face. She opens her mouth like this and makes a loud 'ARGGGHHH' sound, like a pirate. I wasn't really expecting a baby who was ready to sail the high seas. Baby I wasn't really in the mood for smiling (he's still in his pyjamas, to my shame) but I got this one: and this one: but overall, he found the whole experience fairly confusing. I'll try again another day. (Note three - does anybody know how to get around the issue of the blockiness of these photos on blogspot? They are not blocky in real life, and look completely different on flickr. I know some of you manage to post photos on blogspot that look razor sharp - any hints gratefully taken. It's not the resolution, because I tested with some hi-res photos and no change).
I don't really know what else to say now except 'hey! Check out my cute babies!' Next on my list of things I need to post about is their names - people's reactions to their names have been a bit unexpected. If I forget, remind me.
Well, except for me. For me, at the moment, it's all take-take-take.
I guess that's why it's taken me until today (December 8) to say THANK YOU to those who participated in NaBloPoMo. I hardly wrote a comment through all of November but it was wonderful to have so much to read. Really, really, really, really, thank you. I briefly considered participating myself - but then by the end of 01 November I realised that if I was going to commit to doing something every day, it should really be brushing my teeth.
On 01 November, we had only had the babies for 4 days. That is impossible to believe, for me - surely they have always been ours? Surely I have always known how to feed two babies with one hand and one elbow? Surely our tiny house has always been covered in primary-coloured plastic? Surely I have always had two hot fuzzy heads to nuzzle me at unexpected moments? It seems impossible that things haven't always been like this. Which is crazy, obviously, because only three weeks ago, or so, I was floundering madly and feeling absolutely certain I wasn't going to cope with this new life. And now... it just feels normal. And better than that - most days it actually feels good. Having been thrown right into the deep end, I feel like I have finally learned to swim and am even starting to enjoy it as much as I hoped I would. We had a visit from our new social worker (whose presence fills me with blistering shards of white-hot rage, but that's a whole different issue) and she kept probing " so how are YOU? How are you coping?" and I realised - actually, I'm coping fine. She kept needling and needling me - wanting to find some big problem so she could justify her supposed 'support' role and I realised - huh. Right now, I'm fine. I'm sure there will be difficult days ahead, but for now, things are o-kay. (This is no doubt helped by the fact that the babies are now sleeping infinitely better and I got over seven hours of sleep last night. Compared to two weeks ago, I feel like I could fly. Will update more about that later because the whole process has been... interesting. Although to warn you in advance, I think I have a low interestingness threshold right now).
(Not much point to this post, really. If you want to read something much more interesting, I really think you should read this instead).
It's surely no news that babies bring lack of sleep. I've mentioned before that ours have awful trouble - not so much getting to sleep as staying asleep. And I knew that when we brought them home that I would be horribly sleep deprived. I used to have nightmares about it, literally - I would dream that I had to get up because my baby was crying, and then wake up for real and think 'phew! At least that's ONE good thing about having no children!' and snuggle back down.
So I was kind of prepared for the fact that I would never sleep again. What I wasn't prepared for was how it would affect me. When I've been sleep deprived before (exams, long hours at work, a thesis to write, etc etc) I've been upset, irritable, weepy and headachy. But this time... it's different. Instead of all that, I just feel like.... I'm fading away. To use a photoshop simile, I feel like I've had my opacity reduced to about 30%. I'm still here, but I'm feeling pretty...wispy. And.... unable to finish a sentence, or a thought. Or... something. (While in this weakened state, I will admit that YES I have probably been a bit too harsh on sleep-deprived new-parent friends in the past for some of the things they have done / said when I have been in particularly difficult phases of childlessness. Dangit, some of them have been crazy-insensitive, but I'm beginning to realise that hey, they were probably being equally rude to everybody - it's likely that the others just had the good sense to ignore them. I'm already freaking out a bit about who I must have already offended by both omission and comission in this twilight, catatonic state. Everybody, probably. If that includes anybody reading this, I'm really really sorry).
Anyway, this cannot continue. J has a job. I still have one or two friends left. They are waking up every HOUR. And since we've been home, their sleeping has just got worse and worse. They will only sleep on the bottle, or on my chest, and they are waking up, SCREAMING fit to shatter glass, then taking 1/2 oz and going back to sleep. Sometimes in the night they are genuinely hungry, but more often they just want to suck themselves back to sleep. And wow, I had absolutely NO idea how the whole twin-thing would just be a synergy of disaster in this area.
If someone else had written this post, say, four months ago, I would have read it, clicked my tongue and said 'oh well, adopted children, you know, I guess they are going to have sleep difficulties and you are just going to have to suck it up because of, you know, attachment and stuff'. And I'm sure that sleep and attachment are related. But I've begun to realise that other things that affect attachment are the ability to a) stand upright without wobbling b) play with my children on the floor without accidentally slipping into a coma c) have the energy to do all that attachment-therapy type talk that I memorised while I was waiting.
Oh yeah, and apparently bad sleep is at least as bad for the babies as it is for us. Worse, actually. And that's what tipped the balance for us.
(No, really).
(No, really, really).
We've bought this book (actually, we bought a few but this seems the best)
and we're going to sleep train them.
I know, I can't believe it either.
It feels like an admission of failure, even though I'm absolutely certain we're doing the right thing. I guess (like so much of the rest of this blog) I'm writing it down here because it's such an unexpected thing for me. Maybe rather than an admission of failure, it's an admission of 'maybe I didn't really know what I was talking about after all'. I'm sure it won't be the last.
But hey, did you see the bit where it says 'results in less than a week?' I'll keep you posted!
I'd never realised just how magical those words really are. Especially in the plural - yes, they are BOTH napping, at the same time. It's my first day looking after them on my own, because J has gone back to work today, with his suit and his tie and his briefcase and his annual train ticket, back to the land where grownups do grownup things.
So far, it's been okay. The fact that I've fired up the computer means things must be okay. We have been for a walk, and delivered our official notification of adoption letter (hopefully to the right address! Failing to notify the authorities within 14 days of an international adoption turns out to be punishable by 12 months imprisonment, which seems a little over the top to me).
But anyway. Lately, here, it's all been about me-me-me when I know that the reason you are really here is to see the babies! I've been meaning to post photos, but have found it hard for two reasons - firstly, the two new little people in the house never letting me get near the computer, of course, but secondly - unexpected freaked-out-ness about their early little selves. I look at their early photos and they are still my beautiful babies, but honestly? They are so thin that I can't understand why I wasn't more scared at the time. Don't get me wrong - I was scared, especially after we went to a (wonderful, kind, local, cheap) doctor in Ethiopia who used words like 'serious malnutrition' but it's only now that they are filling out that I can really see how terrifyingly titchy they were. And that makes me feel all kinds of sad.
So, I am going to post the photos with a commentary about when they were taken, otherwise you'll think you're looking at different babies.
Stage one: This is the babies on their first day home. They are cute, but did I already say terrifyingly titchy? I can hardly bear to look at these photos, and that's not just because I look h.a.g.g.a.r.d. (By this point, we'd had a very difficult meeting with MO.WA, and had to attend court which was NOT fun (more about that, perhaps, another day) and we'd had my cancelled flight and pretty much no sleep and SURELY things were about to get easier, yes? Heh heh heh, says current-me to then-me. Definitely not).
No, it's because my beautiful girl and boy look like elf-children.
Stage two: The next few days. We've dressed them in tiny clothes that are somehow still way too big, and they are just beginning to figure out which way is up. We get some smiles, but there is a lot of uncertainty. As indeed there should be. (And that second to last picture? Yes we let my mother hold the babies. If she hadn't done all she did for us on that trip, I really have NO idea whether we all would have made it home. Not joking. While she was holding the baby, I was probably off in a corner either crying or throwing up. Or both).
Stage three: Ahhhh, this is more like what the babies are really like. They are starting to fill out and their personalities are really beginning to show. Tummy time is still a complete mystery to them, by the way.
Yes, baby girl, it's all been a bit of a shock to mummy too. Stage four: A few weeks in. Is it just me, or are they starting to just look like ordinary spoiled children here? Maybe it's just the light, but I think they are starting to glow.
So, that's the baby pictures from Addis. They have woken up, so I must go. More later.
and this is the first time I have switched on my computer.
I'm guessing that probably tells you all you need to know about how upside-down things are here right now. (That, and I originally typed 'need' as 'kneed').
One of the things I was most looking forward to when I got home was catching up on everyone's blogs, saying hi, and finally leaving some comments - it's been driving me crazy not to be able to say things like - wow! You're travelling this week! (That's for you, T) Hi! Great to meet you! (for you, Amanda) Two of your recent posts made me cry! (for you, Emaye) and so on and so on. I think I planned to do this, ummmm, Saturday afternoon. Not so much, as it turns out - I spent at least 20 hours of Saturday in my pyjamas, taking it in turns with the other grownups to catch up on sleep and trying to convince the babies that they should take their turn too. I feel terrible about this, especially since you've all been so incredibly supportive while I've been away, but I'm going to have to crave your indulgence and ask you to accept my heartfelt apologies for my silence. I haven't stopped caring, I promise! Now, by day four, I've given up any idea that the babies will ever sleep so am trying to unpack a month's worth of detritus around them, (and just gave up resisting and switched the computer on too). I said that we didn't bring enough of some stuff (notably bottles, also formula) but we WAY overestimated on other things, which is why I have twelve packs of leftover antibacterial handwipes. I've spent a lot of the last few days just looking wildly around the house trying to find places to PUT all these things. Is there much of an ebay market for secondhand antibacterial handwipes? No, didn't think so.
I knew things wouldn't suddenly be easy when we got home, and they're not. The babies are hugely disoriented, again, which is perfectly reasonable. They are waking up 8 - 10 times at night and we are finding it tough. I know this won't last forever, and we are doing the things we've been advised to (eg no switching the light on, no talking at night, sleeping in our room etc etc) but this is probably going to take some serious time to settle down. They are still jetlagged, I'm sure, and the cold and the new smells and change in air pressure has got to be difficult for them. At the moment we are trying to make things as easy as possible for them, with lots of cuddles and all the milk they can imagine, whenever they want, even if that means waking at 4, again at 4.30 and again at 5. Which it does, every day. And we are tired.
Like every new adoptive mother, (and probably every mother, I guess) I'm struggling with the transition between wanting this thing and getting it. I knew that things would be hard, and they are, but knowing and experiencing are always two very different things. At the moment they feel more hard than rewarding, and I'm doing my best to let myself just be in that place without going into meltdown. I'm really glad that I read some books (like 'The Post-Adoption Blues') and some blogs (hi Julie, hi Julia!) that warned me that this might be the case. Knowing that this is somehow normal helps me to deal with it. I can deal with things being hard - I cannot deal with adding a layer of guilt about wishing things didn't feel so hard when I wanted them so much. Clearly, another thing I cannot do at the moment is construct a coherent sentence, but I'm just going to have to learn to live with that too.
And believe it or not, despite what I've written above, I know how blessed I am and I am so grateful. We put the babies in their bear suits today and took them for a walk - one in the sling, and one in the pram. They slept and smiled and none of us walked into a pole or fell in the river, despite our sleep deprivation, and it was so good to all be together, our family of four, in our little town. Now they are downstairs with J feeding them while I go through all the clothes that need unpacking (and type this).
It's going to be a while before things feel like they are anywhere near normal again, I think. But am I allowed to be really, really cheesy for a moment here? A month or so ago, while I was crying a lot and waiting for our court date, I went to an afternoon showing of the new version of Fame. I'll be frank - it's a pretty bad film. I don't want to ruin the plot for you, but basically, they want to live forever, they want to learn how to fly. (So you're not disappointed, I should probably let you know that none of them actually do learn to fly during the course of the film, which is a shame, I thought). But there's a really nice song near the beginning that Marco sings for his audition, and it's been stuck in my head for a month now. I would hate to think that I've sunk to the point where I'm getting philosophical input from a Disney film, but I keep looking at those babies and thinking - we're just ordinary people, kiddos. Maybe we should take it slow.
We've had a very difficult and stressful few days trying to sort out visas (the entire casework team at the Home Office was down with Swine Flu). We wrote many strongly worded emails, and made some strongly worded phone calls, and finally got good news yesterday that they were being processed. We picked them up this morning and then went across the road to the Ethiopian Airlines office, where our skills at wording things strongly turned out to be needed even more urgently.
We were told that we wouldn't be able to change our flights to any date earlier than Wednesday, which would have meant that Mum was at risk of missing her connecting flight to Australia on Thursday. Fortunately, J has a very impressive ability to sit in a chair and not move until someone does something helpful, and after 1 1/2 hours of this we were told that we could fly tonight. I think they did this just to guarantee we wouldn't come back tomorrow.
Anyway, this means that we are flying tonight! After weeks of not much happening, we're about to go. We're going to miss lots of things about Addis, but not the being-new-parents-in-a-hotel-room part. We'd probably better go and finish the packing... more later.
She has found her hands
and loves to smile and shout
and this is her pirate face. She opens her mouth like this and makes a loud 'ARGGGHHH' sound, like a pirate. I wasn't really expecting a baby who was ready to sail the high seas.
Baby I wasn't really in the mood for smiling (he's still in his pyjamas, to my shame) but I got this one:
and this one:
but overall, he found the whole experience fairly confusing. I'll try again another day.
(Note three - does anybody know how to get around the issue of the blockiness of these photos on blogspot? They are not blocky in real life, and look completely different on flickr. I know some of you manage to post photos on blogspot that look razor sharp - any hints gratefully taken. It's not the resolution, because I tested with some hi-res photos and no change). 
