the family bed

Before the title of this post misleads you, I'll set the record straight: we are NOT a co-sleeping family. The concept of co-sleeping didn't even appeal to me when I thought I was only carrying one baby. I did not register for a co-sleeping attachment. I had no plan, at any point during the pregnancy to commit what seemed to me the equilavent of hooking a trailer up to my bed. After all, I'd done a terrible job of getting the dogs out of the bed before the babies were born. We already had two of them fighting it out for bed real estate: a combined total of 140 lbs of doggie, mind you. Plus I was so incredibly sexually charged during my pregnancy (NOT MY FAULT -- testosterone of TWO males floating around inside me), yet so discouraged about attempting to actually initiate sex with my mammoth girth, that I really expected we'd be enjoying all kinds of post-natal romps once the boys were out of my belly and safely in their own cribs and in their own rooms. I'm sure it will come as no surprise to any of you that the romps were a faulty prediction on my part. But I digress.

So the thing is...since the babies dropped their dream-bottle, they've been waking between 5-6am, but not looking for a feeding until around 7am. Sometimes Ethan sleeps through and Emmet can be heard playing with his plastic crib-mounted Aquarium and making gurgling noises at the fishies. Sometimes it's both of them. The desire for that extra hour of sleep won out over the intention to not set bad habits. Brian and I each scoop up a kid and bring them into bed with us, where we can generally lure them back to sleep in a set of arms. Initially, I worried about allowing this practice. How would we ever get them to sleep through to 7am in their own crib if we kept it up? But I've come to LOVE this time so much, I can't see myself discouraging it when they're a year old, 5 years old. 10 years old? Maybe. I have a feeling that my boys will lean toward the grubby and unshowered variety of 10 year old. For now, falling to sleep together is as close as we get, one parent to one baby, and as a family. Having twins, I feel like I'm always putting one down to attend to the other, or to change the laundry, or to finally let the dogs out for a pee. Now that we're done nursing, it's the one time I get to be skin-to-skin with one in an extended fashion. Since I'm back to work, most days for at least a few hours, I feel like this early morning soiree in the family bed is the most important time of the day.

And yes, as you can see from the photo, sometimes we simply can't keep the doggies from joining us. How can I exclude? Some day soon, we'll need to go King Size.

Restorative Yog-aaah!

Just coming off the Restorative Yoga weekend that is a component of the Elemental Yoga teacher training I'm pursuing. Restorative is by far the best thing I've ever studied. Can you imagine being propped, pampered, massaged, and basically just made completely and utterly comfortable -- as coursework? Delicious. I was actually repeating the module. When I took it last year I was almost six-months pregnant with twins, big as a barn already, and about as mobile. not that one needs to be in any sort of physical condition to benefit from this practice, but pregnancy puts so many restrictions on how the body can be positioned. There were many poses I couldn't experience in my body the first time around. But when I landed in the hospital a few weeks afterward, needing an emergency procedure due to indicators that my cervix was weakening and that it wouldn't hold the babies, I was feeling very fortunate to have participated in the weekend training and to have started a Restorative practice.

I think the best way to describe Restorative is "active surrender." Active may seem like the wrong word choice, since Restorative is not considered an active practice. Yet, as one grows in his or her Restorative practice, the practicioner cultivates a degree of vigilance over letting go, accepting nothing less than complete comfort. Choice is actively involved -- as in, I am choosing to not settle for "sort of comfortable," although that may be the case in the beginning because "sort of comfortable" feels so much better for lots of people new to the practice than the way they're used to feeling. The expectation that complete comfort is available and recreatable everytime we practice just really turns me on. Disassociation with physical sensation is so widespread in our culture. We're asked to sit in a chair all day, at our desks and in our cars. I once had an Alexander Technique teacher tell me that chairs are the mortal enemy of the spine. And as you might have noticed, our digestive systems aren't too fond of sitting in chairs for long stretches either. There is just a lot of undoing that needs to occur on a physical level that Restorative aids with gently, by allowing the body to stop holding. Even if one is never conscious of receiving all the benefits of Restorative that are going on in the background, fine tuning the nervous system by inhibiting the fight or flight response and encouraging the relaxation response, thus enhancing the immune system, or if one is never able to fully quiet the mind, at the very least they are choosing to attend to the undoing of the physical stress put on the body even if it's solely environmental in nature (the office, the commute, gravity).

If this all sounds really good to you, check out the work of Judith Lasater, the mother of Restorative, in her book "Relax and Renew: Restful Yoga for Stressful Times." Here's a link to her site, which demonstrates how to relax into a supported backbend. http://www.restorativeyogateachers.com/relax/simplebackbend.html


Most of us don't have bolsters like the one in the photo, but not to worry: most of us don't need more height than one or two folds of a blanket. Let the unfolded end trail out under the shoulders and head like extra mat. If you have a long pillow, tuck the knees into the chest while you place it under the knees or closer into the tailbone, then let the legs casade over it, releasing any tension in the low back as the feet drape down toward the floor.

Restorative gave me amazing tools for my twin pregnancy, bedrest, labor and delivery. Most poignant for me was the ability to draw on my then newly-found Restorative practice when I had the emergency cerclage due to fear of preterm labor. The procedure was risky for the babies at 23 weeks, and not doing the procedure was even riskier. I was scared. I cried a lot while making the decision and being prepped. Then when they took me in, just working with the 2-1 breathing, I was able to keep my nervous system calm. When the anethesiologist checked my blood pressure and heart rate during the procedure, she said "Wow! You're heart rate is low. in a really good way." I shared what I was doing, and all the docs and nurses in the room were totally excited about it. This experience really gave resonance to the title of Lasater's book: restful yoga for stressful times, indeed!

Restorative: it's a gooood thing.

Empty Spaces: the Uncluttering process from Breast to Solid food

On Sundays during the month of July, I don’t often find myself home cleaning house. But Since Brian was working on the rental unit, I was determined to get somewhere in terms of reorganizing our own apartment during naptime today, since we are busting at the seems with so-much-baby-stuff.

I started clearing out the cabinet where we keep bottles, throwing away the remaining breast milk storage bags when I realized that I could actually get rid of that horrid strap-on pillow I used for nursing as well, “My Breast Friend” they call it, the inner-tube we called it. That thing was taking up plenty of decent real estate next to my bed. I didn’t need it hanging around to remind me that breast feeding my two boys didn’t go exactly as planned, that in fact nursing is not necessarily the most natural thing in the world. Whatsmore the rented hospital grade double breastpump could be returned. I moved that out of the bedroom as well. It was already starting to look less cluttered. More serene, albeit empty.

I paused momentarily from my task prepared to beat myself up as I had each time I’ve seen someone nursing their child in the past few weeks since I ended Ethan’s morning feeding -- the last remaining meal at the breast between the twins.

I had allowed myself to look back on the first few months with some rather harsh self-criticism. Couldn't I have increased my milk production if I'd only tried a tiny bit harder? If I only gave up a tad more sleep, in order to pump? If I'd only attempted to get them off the middle-of-the-night formula feeding?

But my current chore kept me in check this time. I filled a shopping bag with the bottles we no longer used and the slow flow nipples, designed for newborns. We don’t have newborns any more, we have 6 moth olds. And the empty space left by removing the paraphenalia from when they first came home I replaced with sippy cups, small bowls in which I warm up their oatmeal, and big boy bottles. I'm grateful to be at this point: the twins are fun now, I am having fun. I laugh when they're placed too close together for a feeding, and Ethan tries to swipe the spoon away from Emmet's mouth. Greater enjoyment is afforded through greater confidence. I know they're getting enough nourishment now: physically, emotionally. And I know that the stuff I don't know isn't going to destory them. There is a huge relief in letting all this stuff go...out of the house in shopping bags, and out of my preoccupation. Emptying is a form of surrender that makes space for what is of greater use in the moment and in preparation for the moments to come.

You've Got Your Hands Full! Grown-ups say the darnedest things...

It’s getting annoying. Every time we take a “family outing” (pack up the babies, the dogs, the double stroller, the diaper bag, and actually leave our property), there’s that saying, or some variation on it. Before the boys were born, I’d heard that it would take longer to get anywhere because twins make people go ga-ga and suffer a temporary loss of their personal barriers. They just blurt stuff out like, “wow! two babies AND two dogs. You must be superwoman.” It didn't bother me at first. I found it rather enjoyable to talk to strangers more often, strangers with an air of congeniality no less, I mean, who doesn't like babies? But suddenly it became an intrusion. Imagine walking through a lovely and populated scene like Portsmouth, NH (since that’s where our most recent outing brought us) and every other group of folk who pass you on the street chosing to comment on some facet of your situation.

"Wow, you must be busy!"
"Jeez, looks like a lot of work to me."
"You've sure got your hands full!"

After 5 or 6 blocks of this, I start internalizing. Gee I am busy..it really is a lot of work. In fact I have got a lot of work to do. My life is HARD, man! What am I doing here, roaming around like I've got nother better to do with my Sunday? There's laundry piling up!!!

This line of thinking can really screw up a leisurely summer stroll with the family.

Next time you see a mother-of-multiples, or just someone whose life looks a bit more full than yours, do her a favor, and STOP REMINDING her!