The realities of twin parenting
Please don’t say I’m lucky to have twins.
I was at the park the other day with my 4-year-old twin boys. A woman with her dog came past and her dog started playing in the same shallow creek as the kids. She was friendly and we started chatting. After the inevitable “Are they twins?” came the next most common phrase: “You’re so lucky”.
Usually I respond with something like “The first year was pretty tough, but it’s starting to pay off now”. They mean well — it’s not their fault they don’t understand the horrors of two newborn babies.
As with most things in life, there’s good and bad aspects to having twins, but most of the bad is heaped up the front and the good is spread out over a lifetime. There’s plenty of twin parents who do feel lucky, but I’m not one of them. Becoming a new parent is tough, and I’d have preferred to not have the extra stress and difficulty of two.
Twins: Because babies really need someone to help smear food in their hair.
Pregnancy is scary.
Twin pregnancies are higher risk than singleton (one baby) pregnancies. Mothers are 2–5 times more likely to develop preeclampsia (high blood pressure) which can be deadly if not treated quickly. There’s higher risk of iron deficiency, gestational diabetes, birth defects and miscarriage (and you may not even know you’ve miscarried!). These statistics are scary. I had about twice as many check-ups as other pregnant mums — around one every month — but I was always a bit on edge. Near the end of the pregnancy I’d gained 20kg in babies and accessories (like placenta and amniotic fluid). I didn’t realise at the time, but the ‘me’ part of me had actually lost 5kg by the end of the pregnancy. 20kgs is a lot to carry around. I couldn’t walk. My mental health suffered because of my physical limitations. I could even read a book. All I did was lie in the bath and desperately hope I’d make it to 37 weeks. Which brings me to…
Birth? Also scary.
More than 60 percent of twins are born premature. Babies born at 37 weeks don’t have fully developed bodies and organs. The lungs and liver are the last parts of the body to develop. It’s common for twins to have a low birth weight and need time in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit to help them breath, eat and fight infection. About two thirds of twin births are by caesarean — doctors are reluctant to allow a vaginal birth when babies’ positions aren’t ideal or where they share a placenta. Even if you get the option of a vaginal birth, you’re required to have an epidural, so pain relief is already established if there are complications. No one asks if you want a spa or a TENS machine for labour, let alone what flavour of scented candle. There’s also a higher chance of needing intervention during birth — like an episiotomy, forceps or suction.
My twins were born at 37 weeks. I was induced for a vaginal birth with an epidural. 12 or so hours into labour, I developed HELLP syndrome (Hemolysis, Elevated Liver enzymes, Low Platelets) which meant the babies needed to be removed quickly. Platelets are needed to clot the blood, so having low levels meant I haemorrhaged an estimated 1500ml. While my babies were taken to NICU, I was taken to theatre to get an inter-uterine balloon inserted to stop the bleeding. This acts like a pressure bandage on the internal wounds, and I was given whole blood and platelet transfusions. The balloon needs to be in place for 24hrs, and I had blood tests and other checks every hour. Meanwhile I couldn’t see my babies, but expressed colostrum which my partner took to NICU. I needed a wheelchair to leave the birthing suite and I finally held my babies about 36 hours after they were born.
Breastfeeding is hard.
I was told it’s possible to breastfeed twins if you’re ‘committed’. Oh good. I’m committed, patient and good at problem solving, this should be easy!
No mother can produce a double-quantity of milk, so twins are expected to survive on a little less. My boys were not strong enough to feed breast-only. When I tried, my smaller twin actually lost weight despite spending up to 4 hrs a day on the boob. Expressing and bottle-feeding was the only other option given to me. This means spending 20 mins (each baby) breastfeeding, 20 mins (each baby) bottle-feeding and 30 mins expressing — every 3 hours. If you have even one unsettled baby at any point in the day, that routine becomes extremely difficult.
You can multitask some of it. I found tandem feeding ok when they were new-borns, but once they got too big for that position, it never felt right to have them tucked behind me. Some mums swear all you need is 12 pillows placed correctly (and a system for getting both babies safely on and off the tower of pillows). But it got too hard for me, so I gave one baby the boob while the other got a bottle of formula and swapped for the next feed. So, breastfeeding became the same as for a single baby — minus one hand, plus 8 bottles to prepare and clean each day.
Twins: Because baby wrestling should have weight divisions.
You only have two hands.
In theory you can carry two babies (in the event of a truck hurtling towards you, house fire, rabid dog etc), but the reality involves one in a carrier strapped to your front and the other wedged next to them on your hip. It’s really heavy. You get tired after about 5 mins. They wriggle and feel like they’re slipping. You cannot wipe their nose or the dribble from their chin. You cannot reach or lean forward.
So your options are either: pick one up, move them somewhere, put them down, then go back for the other baby, or take a pram everywhere. The pram is the far better option. They have a safe spot where they can’t roll/crawl, find anything to put in their mouths, and you can always see them. But, the pram has its issues too…
The pram doesn’t fit.
There was a period when I despised singleton mums. I was so jealous of their lives — I couldn’t bear to look at them walking down the street and see what I was missing. Have you ever tried to take a shopping trolley into a cafe? That’s what having a twin pram is like. There were friend’s houses and favourite shops that I had to abandon because they had steps, or the aisles were too narrow.
Twins: Because toddler mischief is more effective with a distraction.
There’s no time for that.
All new parents have it tough — a baby is a 24hr-a-day job — but twin parents somehow have to find a way of fitting two 24hr-a-day jobs into each day. Basically, you cut corners. Sometimes you can combine things, like feeding both solids, or breastfeeding one while bottle-feeding the other. But things like nappy changes are just going to take twice as long.
You have to multitask to the extreme. Like, being attached to a breast pump, while rocking two bouncers with your feet, while eating lunch, while ordering groceries on your phone. I thought about my days in 10-minute increments. Where will I fit a shower, or a load of washing? ‘Dinner’ was pasta with a can of tuna. I gave up on vacuuming. Cutting my toenails was a luxury that would sometimes take 6 months to get to. Date night!? Ha! Hahaha.
There wasn’t enough time even for the necessities of life like sustenance, basic hygiene and sleep. Every day was a cruel experiment where you could only choose two — I usually chose sustenance and hygiene over sleep. At its worst, blinking felt like a trap. My eyelids would stick and I’d have the sensation of a micro-sleep. It certainly would have been unsafe for me to operate heavy machinery. Instead, I had responsibility for two helpless lives.
There isn’t even time for your kids.
But the hardest bit? I didn’t have enough time to enjoy being with my babies. I couldn’t cuddle them while they slept, I couldn’t carry them around while I did chores. Even playing with them one-on-one was a rare luxury that only happened if one slept longer than the other (and I’d have to wake them after 20 mins to keep them in sync). I was always dividing my attention and they didn’t get the share they deserved. The thing keeping me from spending quality time with my beloved baby, was another beloved baby. It was a profound catch 22.
Twins: Because toddlers need someone to show them which toy they wanted to play with.
Did it make me stronger?
The old saying goes: What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. Some people hold twin parents up as beacon of strength and persistence, but they didn’t survive because they’re strong, they survived because the alternative is, what? Put them up for adoption? Neglect an innocent child that you gave life to?
I think tough times can make you stronger, but it only applies in some situations. Maybe they need to be achievable or controllable? I don’t feel stronger for having gone through the twin parenting experience — I feel like a part of me broke. I didn’t want to do it anymore. It was too hard. But there’s no opt-out button.
When you come out the other side, it’s not like you go phew, I’m glad that’s over and you’re back to how you started. Instead, you’ve been neglecting yourself and your relationships for years, and now you must figure out which bits can be fixed (and how), and which bits are irreparable (and how to live with them).
But really, all parents have it hard.
Parenting isn’t an easy job and there are plenty of singleton parents who have it tough. The ones who, because of personality, medical issue or other circumstances, have a baby who doesn’t do any of things babies are supposed to do. These parents have a struggle as real as a twin parent, but are met with a community that (mostly) doesn’t recognise the difficulties: Parenting’s not that hard. Everyone else is managing ok, what’s wrong with you?
The moral of the story is: don’t assume that anyone elses situation is ‘good’ or ‘bad’. What looks good from the outside, might actually be difficult - and what looks bad from the outside might actually be wonderful. The best bet is to ask how they feel, rather than jump straight in with congratulations or commiserations which could make their feelings seem wrong.
I know there’s a lot of parents just barely holding it together through the Covid pandemic. With school closures, being stuck in the house and the background stress of an ever-present medical danger, we’re all just trying to not fall apart. There’s going to be a lot of broken people at the end of it, and we’re all going to be figuring out how to live with the broken bits that can’t be fixed.
What doesn’t kill you can only make you… Still alive?
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