got milk.

Did you know that when you have two placentas, it triggers your body to make "twice" as much milk as when you have one? So when you have twins, your body is designed to take care of two babies, given those babies each have a placenta.

God thought of everything.

I wish your body was also designed to have twice as much energy, and your brain was designed to handle twice as much stress, and your eyes could handle half the amount of sleep.

Alas, not everything is supposed to be easy.

Quinn, that girl nursed right out of the womb. She was a pro from the get-go. But since she was so small, she was supplemented with formula. It was necessary, and I was ok with that. John was a weaker nurser, and was also supplemented with formula. I started a strict pumping schedule right away, and I made sure both babies got colostrum and as much mama milk as possible.

And the milk came. Woah, did it come. The lactation consultants would look at the results of my pumping and  just marvel: "Wow, look at that color. Isn't that beautiful?" Lactation consultants are a special breed.

You see, when I first found out about the twins, I thought I wouldn't even try to breastfeed them. But as time wore on and I read up on it, I really really wanted to give it a go. I know how good it is for babies, and for mommies. And so, I was going to do it.

Enter premature babies. Enter no sleep. Enter pumping. And more pumping. And more pumping. John's energy faded. His eating struggled. His feeding tube was placed. I pumped around the clock for him, and he stayed on breastmilk the whole time he was in the hospital. That is something I'm proud of. At home, Quinn would nurse, but for short periods of time. And she was small, so she needed calorie fortified expressed milk to gain weight. And so, I was nursing her, then giving her pumped milk. Get the picture? So much pumping. And no sleep. And running back and forth to the hospital. And, honestly, not enough time to eat. Sometimes I would stand up and my legs would literally wobble under me, I was so weak. Oh, and did I mention I had just given birth to two babies and my whole body ached like I had been in a car crash? Those were some of the most physically taxing weeks of my life (just realized this pregnancy began and ended with the hardest physical challenges I have yet to face. special.).

John came home, and I started nursing Quinn exclusively and pumping for John, because he just didn't have the strength to nurse. As time wore on, Quinn started nursing more and more frequently. Carly nursed like all day long, the lazy nurser. I could see Quinn was going to be the same way now that she was no longer getting high-calorie supplements. And so, I started giving her expressed milk too.

I'm getting long winded. The point is. It was all too much. While my milk supply was fine, my emotions and energy were shot. As my mom wisely said, "You have twice as many babies, but the same amount of time in a day." Chris and I talked extensively about it, and we decided to gradually move to formula. My goal was to get the babies breastmilk until their due date. And, wouldn't you know it, the pumped milk ran out and they each got their last breastmilk bottle on that exact day. The Lord had His eye on me with that one.

Because, I've struggled with this. I felt like a complete failure. I felt like the babies will already be getting less snuggle time, less one-on-one time, more hectic of a home life . . . I couldn't do this one single thing for them? I nursed Carly for 7 months. I started worrying about how smart they would be or if they'd be sick all the time. I thought, what if one day Carly excels at math and Quinn struggles? Would I look back and blame myself? Yes, I was that insane. I blame the hormones.

[how to feed two at once. notice Q is checking her fingers for milk.]

The thing is, I don't care if other people formula feed. Lots of people do because of circumstances, and lots of  people do because they simply prefer to. And I think that is wonderful. Everyone has the right to make their own parenting choices, and kids turn out smart and healthy and beautiful no matter what.

So here was the question that came to me:

Why was it ok for others to choose formula, but it wasn't ok for me to?

Why was I being my own worst critic?

Why didn't I deserve to create the situation that was best for our family at this time?

But I still struggled.

And to make it worse, I could still feel my milk in.

It was haunting me. 

Why wouldn't it just go away?

So one day when Quinn was being weird about taking her bottle, I went upstairs and tried to pump. 

I got a tiny little bit.

I knew it was over.

And something clicked.

I had been praying and praying to feel at peace with the whole situation, to know Chris and I were making the best choices we could, and to know our babies would be healthy and grow strong.

I looked at those few milliliters of breastmilk, and my prayers were answered.

I knew.

And I haven't worried one second about it sense.

What a tender mercy.

Formula feeding has its downs.

Our table and countertops have a white powder on them when I don't get around to wiping it up, and it makes us look a little bit like crack addicts.

Formula smells really bad.

We have bottles everywhere. I mean, 1 billion bottles.

And making bottles is just not as easy as popping a baby on your breast.

Its true.

And worst of all, I have to start watching what I eat again.

I don't have a million calories getting sucked out of me every day.

[one night's worth of bottles.]

But there are perks too.

Like, I'm not the only one who does the feedings.

I don't have to wear nursing bras.

No ripping my shirt off when a baby starts screaming.

And my body is all the way mine again.

That is something that is especially nice after housing two humans for 36 weeks.

So it has been quite the emotional little journey.

Remember last time around?

Why can't I have a pleasant, guilt-free nursing experience?

Maybe next time.

Assuming there is a next time.

[they sure are growing. they are both getting deliciously meaty.]