She should have her own reality show

When Duckling and Pin were five days old, we went back to the hospital for an appointment with a lactation consultant. Breastfeeding is really hard, and breastfeeding twins is even harder, especially when you have no idea what you are doing. I had been home for two days, and was breastfeeding the boys on demand.

Duckling had been diagnosed with jaundice a couple of days after birth, but was deemed well enough to go home. I had been advised to supplement with formula to help with the jaundice, but was determined to breastfeed as much as possible. Pin had raised bilirubin levels, but not as high as Duckling, and was never officially diagnosed with jaundice.

The night before the appointment with the lactation consultant, Duckling refused a feed, and in fact did not really wake up properly. I put him in my nightgown for some kangaroo care, and he took the next feed so I wasn't too worried.

When we got to the appointment, I described Duckling's behaviour and they were immediately concerned. They checked his diaper and saw dark orange urine, and did a test to check his bilirubin, which was even more elevated. He hadn't gained any weight since discharge, and all in all looked like a sick baby. I was shocked. I had no idea he was not doing well, and in fact thought I was doing so well by breastfeeding him. I didn't know that he was sucking but not really eating, and didn't know how to tell the difference.

Enter the nurse practitioner from the NICU. She crackled with energy, took a history, and tried immediately to create a rapport with me by telling me that she too had fertility issues. She then told me that he was dehydrated because I wasn't feeding him properly. She made me feel like a terrible mother, that I had made him sick by not taking appropriate care of him, which sent me over the edge into hysteria. She called for blood tests, she called for bili-lights, she did everything except yell 'stat' at the nurses. She got things accomplished, but with the end result of further overwhelming an already overwhelmed, post-surgery, new mom of twins. I didn't stop crying for hours. Duckling was admitted for jaundice, which meant Pin and I stayed too. We had a private room and the isolette for Duckling, and a cot for Pin. S had to go home and get my things, and there we were, back in the hospital two days after leaving.

I guess I had been instructed on what to look for to let me know if the babies were not doing well, but I have no recollection of this. I didn't know to check, or even how to check, that they were swallowing and not just sucking, and I didn't know that they weren't latched on properly. I knew to check for wet diapers, but didn't know the difference between 'kind of wet' and 'soaked'. I truly thought I was doing a fabulous job. The whole experience left me doubting my abilities to feed my boys myself, and I have never had the confidence to stop supplementing with formula, with the end result that I was never able to produce enough milk for both babies. I'm still breastfeeding them both, but I follow it immediately with bottles of formula. I have so much guilt about this, I can't even describe it. I resent using formula, and I detest all the washing, sterilizing and filling of bottles. I don't like anybody else (except S) to give bottles to the boys, because I still believe it is my job to feed them.

I know that nurse practitioner was doing a great job at ensuring my baby got the care he needed, but I wish I could tell her just how terrible she made me feel.

Another trip to the ER

S was changing Pin a couple of days ago and noticed a huge lump just above and to the left of his penis. He immediately called me to have a look, and I took one look and was on the phone to the paediatrician within minutes. She was unavailable, but her fabulous assistant was able to contact her on her cell and run the problem by her. She made a preliminary diagnosis of hernia and advised us to go to the emergency department at our local children's hospital to have it checked out.

Unlike the last time, we didn't panic. We fed both the boys, packed their diaper bag with more food and diapers, and calmly proceeded to the children's hospital and parked in the lot. We proceeded to triage, lined up at the appropriate computer without being prompted, and this time were registered immediately. We were seen by triage within 5 minutes and told to wait in the waiting room for assessment. We saw the intake nurse about 10 minutes after that, and after the usual questions, weight, temperature and preliminary examination were issued with a hospital bracelet and told to wait for our turn. And wait we did. I know Pin was low on the triage scale, not being in any pain, or bleeding, or showing any sign of discomfort at all, but we had to wait 7 hours to see a doctor. SEVEN HOURS.

We ran out of food. We ran out of diapers. We definitely ran out of patience. I started haunting the triage nurse, asking her how many people were ahead of us, and could she get us some formula. I breastfed them as much as possible, but not having the greatest milk supply this was not a solution to two hungry crying babies. S went out to try and buy some more formula, but apparently downtown Toronto is not the baby-friendly mecca you would imagine it to be, and there was no formula to be found.

Just as I was once again bugging the nurse to find us some formula, we were called in to see the doctor. They took one look, diagnosed a hernia (uh huh) and referred us to the general surgery clinic because an inguinal (groin) hernia can become 'stuck' and needs to be surgically repaired as soon as possible. By 'as soon as possible' I mean that the general surgery clinic will call us within 2 weeks with an initial consult appointment, and schedule us for surgery after that.

In the meantime, every time we change his diaper we have to push the hernia back into his stomach, to make sure it isn't stuck. It makes a little popping sensation when it goes back in, and sometimes we can feel liquid moving through the intestine as we push on it. It gives both of us the willies to do it but we do it faithfully because we are so scared of it getting stuck. If it's stuck, part of his bowel will not get oxygen and will start to decay, causing Pin to become ill and have pain and to need emergency surgery. I feel so sick that he has to have surgery; the thought of my sweet little boy having general anaesthetic and postsurgical pain and possible complications is nauseating. At the same time, I want him to have the surgery as soon as possible so that it doesn't get trapped and start to decay.