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Sunday, 10 May 2015

Day 18 - What Goes Down Must Come Up

I did my first solo feed with the boys last night. It was the worst debut performance since Danny Dyer played King Herod in his school nativity.

We started off feeding them at the same time but it was a logistical nightmare as we both had to be on hand. It's one thing feeding two babies simultaneously but winding them is impossible. Maybe if you've got decades of experience as a one man band you could figure out a system but I don't have that on my CV.

At the moment we've got them on a 45 min delay so we can feed them on our own. Sometimes they cry a tiny bit but they don’t seem to mind waiting. It'll toughen them up for standing at the deli counter in later life.

I can't speak for all babies but my two look so ashamed of themselves when you wind them. Their head slumps into my hand and all the fat from their head gathers above their eyes as they squint at you with a look that says, I'm sorry you have to see me this way. I didn't ask for this. Don't look at me, please.

So I started feeding Ben. He took a big long glug before I took the bottle out to check how much he'd had. Nothing. I gave him another go. Again, naff all. He's suckling away like a baby lamb (I could almost feel his tail wagging) but there was nothing going in.

I'd read about how when babies breastfeed they can think and feel like they're feeding but they’re actually getting nothing of substance, like a meal in Wetherspoons. I was concerned this was happening here.

So I moved him about and he trumped so hard I nearly dropped him. It was the shock – his little rump managed to vibrate like an old Nokia 8210 getting a text. In my book that counted as wind so I carried on with the feed. He finally started to take some of the milk but then regurgitated most of it all over me. As I was wiping it off him Zac then started crying and I panicked like a middle aged man in John Lewis on Christmas Eve.

Then I looked at the clock. 1am. I'd been doing this feed for TWO HOURS. If I wasn't careful they'd be due their next feed before I’d finished this one. My wife came downstairs and peered round the door assuming I'd fallen asleep. Instead I looked at her with the desperate look of an ISIS hostage. But even worse, I'd been taken hostage by my own babies. Sure, I hadn't been chained to a radiator and kept in a room for 6 months, allowing my beard to grow and skin to malnourish and wither. But it felt like it. Definitely, exactly like that. Exactly.

My wife took pity on me (or the boys more likely) and took over the feed with total professionalism. I felt like the shit teacher in school who's lost control, staring at their own feet as the proper teacher waltzes in and admonishes the class correctly.

I need to get better. Or I need to be like this guy.

Can any parents of multiples please enlighten me on how you possibly feed and wind them together?

Back tomorrow.

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Read from the beginning here.


Unknown said...

hahaha! i remember those early days…horrifying…. but why burp them at the same time? you can tandem bottle feed them using a feeding pillow for twins and then burp them one after the other. That's how we always did it. It really works. Just remember to also burp them halfway through the feed. :)

Sam Avery said...

I think we've had a breakthrough on this front...I will reveal all soon! :)

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