Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘NICU’

The more things change, the less I like it.

But I am not like my Nana, who refused to give up her “ice box” for a newfangled refrigerator. When the ice man stopped delivering, she reluctantly accepted the new contraption with a round condenser sitting like a pill box hat on top. It’s ironic that it was my sister Kay who had the Frigidaire delivered to our Nana, but later refused a microwave from me!

Today it’s more complicated. It’s not as if I’d like to return to the days when a milkman came to our little house in Victory Gardens… or my Daddy Jim had to climb up on the roof to adjust the TV antenna. But milk IS the driving force of our lives now that the twins are home! The Rocker had to install a small freezer in the garage for the overflow of breast milk Aunt Kiki is delivering. It’s actually Amazonian.

The Flapper told me very little about our lives before that Year of Living Dangerously. But I did know that her doctor took her aside one day and told her she didn’t have to sanitize my baby bottles – which meant in 1948 she didn’t need to boil them. The doctor knew my Father was dying of a brain tumor in the dining room of our home, and he figured she had enough to worry about, what with three other children in the house.

And so when the Bride was born, the Flapper helped me in many ways but she knew next to nothing about breastfeeding. Ditto for Grandma Ada. Their generation was expected to bottle feed, only poor women who couldn’t afford formula would nurse. And yet, the culture changed so dramatically by the 70s – we women read “Our Bodies, Ourselves,” we had consciousness raising groups, we had Gloria Steinem!

And the La Leche League of course. It was considered a badge of honor to nurse your baby anywhere and everywhere. And like most things, we went too far. I suffered through the flu and a mastitis and kept on going, determined to make a success of it. When in fact, training your baby to take a bottle along with nursing makes sense for your family’s sanity.

Especially with TWINS!

My son and his wife had a crash course on caring for preemies in the NICU. They had a lactation specialist and an occupational therapist! Best of all were the nurses, who each shared the tricks of their trade; including the last night nurse who hugged me and said I looked like a mystery writer!

So now I am my Mother, knowing very little about bottles. The baby girls are excellent nursers, but the bottles at first were not getting the job done in the NICU. And Kiki came up with the idea to change the bottles from one brand to another, and voila! They started meeting their “shift minimums.” So yesterday, we brought the girls home to meet Leo the Protector and his two resident cats.

Bob and I will stick around to help in any way we can. Ive learned how to defrost breastmilk and use the new bottles and their special cleaning appliance. The rest is like riding a bike, right? I hope they got some sleep last night.

Read Full Post »

We moved over the weekend to a new AirBnB.

The first place was a last minute booking because our new grandbabies couldn’t wait to arrive earthside. This spot with a garden was the original plan; two bedrooms in a quaint carriage house within walking distance of shops and cafes. I settled right in and made sweet potato lentil soup for the new parents. We’re only a little over a mile away from the hospital where the twins are thriving and growing stronger each day. They will be moving home soon enough, best friends for life.

But did you know that once upon a time people packed up all their belongings and moved every year? I happened to bring Atlantic magazine’s March issue with me for the plane, and I was intrigued by Yoni Appelbaum’s essay, “Stuck in Place.”

”The great holiday of American society at its most nomadic was Moving Day, observed by renters and landlords throughout the 19th century and well into the 20th with a giant game of musical houses. Moving Day was a festival of new hopes and new beginnings of shattered dreams and shattered crockery – quite as recognized a day as Christmas or the Fouth of July!”

Of course I played musical houses growing up between Nell in Victory Gardens, and the Flapper in Scranton. All my memories are glued to a dilapidated leather album – dressed up for Easter, hiding between appliances in the kitchen, sitting on the hood of an old car in a frilly bathing suit. And there’s my favorite, I’m about five years old and posed like Shirley Temple in front of a poster at the circus. I was wearing a pair of oxfords, my “circus shoes.”

I’ve been blissfully unaware of the political circus happening all around us at breakneck speed. My priority is moving between this carriage house and the hospital, supporting the new parents as best I can, and beginning a course of physical therapy. Balance and equilibrium are the order of the day.

And so we’re off on a hunt for a small freezer to store breast milk for two babies. I cannot wait to move them into their new nursery.

Read Full Post »