If you're a mum, you would have heard the saying "it takes a village to raise a child" - I 100% agree with this statement, and I think for many years now women have been struggling through parenthood alone, feeling like it's one giant competition among other mothers about who does what best. For me, I found the start of my village 8 weeks after I had Cooper. I turned up to my first ever mothers group so nervous, anxious about how I would be judged for how I'd chosen to parent. I COULD NOT HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG.
For 7 years now these women have been the core of my village, along the way I've lost friends and I've gained friends - this post is dedicated to those women in my village.
They say that in a crisis you will find out who your real friends are. In my crisis I discovered the power of my village. I discovered that all the oceans in all the world can't stop people from offering assistance. I discovered that there are people I did not know who cared more about helping me and my family than some of those I do know.
I discovered that strangers can be and often are generous beyond belief.
Lets go back a few weeks. My twin boys were newbies, I'd recently joined CARMBA (Canberra region multiple births association) and I stepped out of my comfort zone and met up for a coffee with my area representative Sarah H (my god is this woman a special kind of wonderful) and another (equally as special to me) new twin mum Sarah L. These women.... WOW.... I felt like I'd known them for years, they built me up, they answered all my silly questions and they left me feeling empowered.
Ok. So I'd met Sarah H one time, but what she did for me over the course of the next month is why I will forever call her a friend.
The boys got sick, very sick, I was torn from my family and thrust into a hospital for weeks tending to them.
Within days Sarah has contacted CARMBA and issued a call to arms, she arranged for my empty 150L chest freezer to be filled with meals for my family, she arranged other multi mums who owned cleaning businesses to come and help my husband keep on top of washing, and general cleaning as he traveled back and forth between the hospital, school and home. I had care packages arriving at hospital and cups of coffee and real food and her talking me through everything, ensuring me it would be OK. This women coordinated an army of strangers to care for me and my family. I mean how awesome is that. Despite her having young twin girls herself she called and texted daily to ensure I was being looked after. I couldn't believe the selflessness of this woman. It was during these harrowing moments filled with hope from strangers that I knew that in the future I would pay it forward in whatever way I could. It was then that despite what I might be going through I knew that if Sarah needed me, I'd be there - just as she was for me.
My original village of mums, my 7 year strong mothers group also stood firm by my side. We shared tears and messages of strength, they put together the most beautiful care package filled with magazines, hand lotions, shampoos, word puzzles, jewelry and snacks to help keep my energy up.
Coopers class at school prayed daily for my boys, and his teacher arranged for donations of home made baked goods and lunch box fillers to find it's way to my house to help fill my older children.
An online group of American mums of babies born in June 2011 donated money to us, to a family they'd only ever seen online to us to help us. Another group flooded my facebook page with messages of hope.
My BFF called daily. I know the pain she felt not being close enough to help, but she did anyway.
Over the years I've given up on a lot of friendships, friends that wouldn't celebrate my wins with me but rather harbored jealousy when I'd succeed, friends that competed with me at every turn, friends that only ever took but never gave. But for every friend I've let go I've found someone even more wonderful, women who build you up, who actively fill your cup when it's running on empty, who celebrate the journey you are taking in motherhood.
It's those mums who have children in the same class as yours. Those women who you meet through work who just inspire you to be better. It's strangers who open their heart at a coffee date set up through a facebook page.
My village are these people, and every single day I am thankful for them.
So to you, whoever might be reading this, I challenge you to stop and let others in. Meet those new mums from school, talk to the lady who just started in the office, go to those forced mothers groups for the first few weeks, take a leap of faith on a catch up created by a facebook group. These are the women who might form your village, and believe me when I say, one day when you need a friend they'll be there when others might not have.
xx
Tuesday 13 March 2018
FIGHTING
After some time in NICU and then the SCN (special care nursery) exactly seven days after they were born, and on my 33rd birthday my boys were ready to go home. They'd learnt to latch, they were gaining weight beautifully and they were maintaining their body temperature like little champs.
Right now I want to take a moment to thank all the beautiful nurses in Calvary Hospitals SCN - honestly those women - they leave me speechless - I was genuinely in tears leaving them, they are absolute angels.
We were overjoyed to be home, no one more so than big sister Zoe, who took her big sister duties very very seriously.
For two weeks everything was smooth sailing, we adjusted to sleepless nights, feeding on demand, daycare and school drop offs and pick ups and I was healing really well from the surgery. I was on cloud nine. Life had given us the very best surprise and I was so thankful.
In the third week Mason developed a snotty nose, with other children in school it was bound to happen. Bugs were bound to be passed around. Here's the thing though; what is a common little runny nose for a 4 year old is a huge deal for a baby who isn't yet corrected to 40 weeks gestation.
After a night of nursing him, sleeplessly watching him struggle and feeling his every breath I saw my Doctor who suggested that if it got worse to seek emergency care.
A few hours later, back at home and in my arms Mason stopped breathing. It felt like an eternity between me stimulating him to take a breath in and I rushed him straight to ED where he continued to go in and out of apnoeic episodes on the resuss bed. Within moments Mason and I were in an ambulance headed to the High Care Paediatric unit at Canberra Hospital, with Carter and Simon following close behind in the car. The next few hours become a blur of tests, medical instruments and questions. Simon left me with Carter and headed home to make arrangements for Cooper and Zoe
I can't express to you how even re-writing these moments affects me now.
I remember as clear as day, it was just after 8 and after another apnoeic episode I asked the senior nurse on duty (her name was Heather) "he's going to be ok isn't he?" within moments of her reassuring me he stopped breathing, his oxygen levels dropped, his heart rate fell and as I screamed his name the GREEN EMERGENCY BUTTON ON THE WALL was pushed and I was torn from the room while 15 other specialists ran in to save my sons life. I've never known time to stop. In that split second it was as if time stood still. In that very moment I did not think I would be leaving hospital with both my boys.
Eventually, as I was helped back into the room I saw my beautiful boy, a CPAP machine covering his most perfect tiny little face helping him breath. I couldn't hold him, I couldn't nurse him. As I watched his vitals monitor I held his brother praying. And I didn't stop all night.
What happened next is what my nightmares are made of now. Images and feelings burnt into my brain. What happens next tested me to my absolute emotional limit. What happens next still haunts me.
Through the night as I watched Mason and held Carter I'd asked a few times for the nurse to examine Carter, He didn't show the same symptoms as Mason had but something in my core wasn't right. To this day I harbour absolute distain for the doctor on duty that night. Despite the boys sharing the same bed at home, tandem feeding and being inseparable the doctor wouldn't look at Carter.
5 hours after I had to witness the resuscitation of my 3rd born, I was running from the ward to the emergency department with another lifeless baby. Carter had become unresponsive as he fed.
No one but multiple mums can understand the real heartbreak of not being able to divide yourself in two to be their 100% for both your babies. It's the hardest part of being a twin mum, and to this very day I still have trouble feeling like I am enough for both of them.
Carter was resuscitated in emergency on 3 occasions. As I screamed at the doctor I had emergency staff try to console me and offer me support. Fortunately Simons parents came to our rescue and Simon was able to rush to the hospital to be firstly with me but then with Mason who was still FIGHTING alone upstairs.
As Carter was stabilised we were moved back into high care - the boys weren't able to share a room so Simon and I would swap every few hours and I would pump and pump and pump. You don't know your strength until it's tested.
Over the course of the next month their were many highs and lows. Carter endured lumbar punctures, EEGs on his brain, ultrasounds on his heart, test after test after test. We were told to monitor for seizures after they incorrectly dosed his antibiotics. There were moments every single day I was convinced i was leaving hospital without my babies.
The virus, RSV, saw the high care ward full every single day with new born babies for the duration of our stay.
Fortunately for us we were able to leave with our boys.
My boys are fighters.
Right from their very conception they have been fighting all the odds.
I'm so thankful to the staff who supported me and our family. I'm forever grateful to the friends near and far for all their support during this time.
My boys are fighters, and their Mumma will always fight along with them.To this day I encourage mums to listen to their hearts, evoke Ryans law and be the voice for your kids when they can't, because in my case it saved two lives.
Right now I want to take a moment to thank all the beautiful nurses in Calvary Hospitals SCN - honestly those women - they leave me speechless - I was genuinely in tears leaving them, they are absolute angels.
We were overjoyed to be home, no one more so than big sister Zoe, who took her big sister duties very very seriously.
For two weeks everything was smooth sailing, we adjusted to sleepless nights, feeding on demand, daycare and school drop offs and pick ups and I was healing really well from the surgery. I was on cloud nine. Life had given us the very best surprise and I was so thankful.
In the third week Mason developed a snotty nose, with other children in school it was bound to happen. Bugs were bound to be passed around. Here's the thing though; what is a common little runny nose for a 4 year old is a huge deal for a baby who isn't yet corrected to 40 weeks gestation.
After a night of nursing him, sleeplessly watching him struggle and feeling his every breath I saw my Doctor who suggested that if it got worse to seek emergency care.
A few hours later, back at home and in my arms Mason stopped breathing. It felt like an eternity between me stimulating him to take a breath in and I rushed him straight to ED where he continued to go in and out of apnoeic episodes on the resuss bed. Within moments Mason and I were in an ambulance headed to the High Care Paediatric unit at Canberra Hospital, with Carter and Simon following close behind in the car. The next few hours become a blur of tests, medical instruments and questions. Simon left me with Carter and headed home to make arrangements for Cooper and Zoe
I can't express to you how even re-writing these moments affects me now.
I remember as clear as day, it was just after 8 and after another apnoeic episode I asked the senior nurse on duty (her name was Heather) "he's going to be ok isn't he?" within moments of her reassuring me he stopped breathing, his oxygen levels dropped, his heart rate fell and as I screamed his name the GREEN EMERGENCY BUTTON ON THE WALL was pushed and I was torn from the room while 15 other specialists ran in to save my sons life. I've never known time to stop. In that split second it was as if time stood still. In that very moment I did not think I would be leaving hospital with both my boys.
Eventually, as I was helped back into the room I saw my beautiful boy, a CPAP machine covering his most perfect tiny little face helping him breath. I couldn't hold him, I couldn't nurse him. As I watched his vitals monitor I held his brother praying. And I didn't stop all night.
What happened next is what my nightmares are made of now. Images and feelings burnt into my brain. What happens next tested me to my absolute emotional limit. What happens next still haunts me.
Through the night as I watched Mason and held Carter I'd asked a few times for the nurse to examine Carter, He didn't show the same symptoms as Mason had but something in my core wasn't right. To this day I harbour absolute distain for the doctor on duty that night. Despite the boys sharing the same bed at home, tandem feeding and being inseparable the doctor wouldn't look at Carter.
5 hours after I had to witness the resuscitation of my 3rd born, I was running from the ward to the emergency department with another lifeless baby. Carter had become unresponsive as he fed.
No one but multiple mums can understand the real heartbreak of not being able to divide yourself in two to be their 100% for both your babies. It's the hardest part of being a twin mum, and to this very day I still have trouble feeling like I am enough for both of them.
Carter was resuscitated in emergency on 3 occasions. As I screamed at the doctor I had emergency staff try to console me and offer me support. Fortunately Simons parents came to our rescue and Simon was able to rush to the hospital to be firstly with me but then with Mason who was still FIGHTING alone upstairs.
As Carter was stabilised we were moved back into high care - the boys weren't able to share a room so Simon and I would swap every few hours and I would pump and pump and pump. You don't know your strength until it's tested.
Over the course of the next month their were many highs and lows. Carter endured lumbar punctures, EEGs on his brain, ultrasounds on his heart, test after test after test. We were told to monitor for seizures after they incorrectly dosed his antibiotics. There were moments every single day I was convinced i was leaving hospital without my babies.
The virus, RSV, saw the high care ward full every single day with new born babies for the duration of our stay.
Fortunately for us we were able to leave with our boys.
My boys are fighters.
Right from their very conception they have been fighting all the odds.
I'm so thankful to the staff who supported me and our family. I'm forever grateful to the friends near and far for all their support during this time.
My boys are fighters, and their Mumma will always fight along with them.To this day I encourage mums to listen to their hearts, evoke Ryans law and be the voice for your kids when they can't, because in my case it saved two lives.
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