It is an absolutely beautiful day here today.
I should be happy to be up and out and have the ability to take the twins on a walk.
But I am not.
I am not happy.
Well, not exactly.
I am not as happy as I think I should be.
Everyone, including strangers, tell me how blessed I am when I am out with the twins.
But, they don’t know.
They don’t have to get up three, four and sometimes five times a night.
They don’t understand the frustration of two inconsolable cries.
They don’t understand that I feel like I have lost my identity and that at times I feel more like an employee than a mother.
They don’t know what it feels like to not have the energy to even feel human.
Sometimes, I just feel so trapped.
it is such a huge undertaking just to get the kids loaded up and into the car, and then fight with the 47 lb double stroller that barely fits in the trunk, try to accomplish the simplest task without being stopped by six or eight strangers who ask if they kids are twins…. um, yes folks, they are twins, no folks, they are not identical- one is in pink and the other is in blue…. do I need to remove their diapers to show you they are not identical…
I hate to admit is, but sometimes I miss my “old life” and wonder if I have what it takes to be a good stay at home mom. I don’t even know if what I am feeling is normal. I don’t really have anyone to ask. I feel completely isolated.
Even when hubby is home from work, he is preoccupied with one home improvement project or another. And perish the thought of going out and doing something as a family. He is always afraid the kids are going to fuss if we go out. They are 6 1/2 months old…if they fuss, they fuss. People do expect babies to cry from time to time.
I even feel guilty sitting here and blogging because there are literally a million other things that I should be doing.
I never once thought like this when we were still TTC. I just knew that I wanted a baby more than anything. Now, here I am. Twins. Exhausted. Isolated. Lonely. Frustrated.
I have nothing to complain about. There are millions of women out there who would love to have my problems and who can’t. I should just count my blessings, right?