The days after having the twins are blurry to me now just as they were then. Between the physical recovery from the blood loss and c-section plus the lack of sleep from religiously pumping around the clock, the days just seemed to run into each other. Besides the joyous first moments of meeting and holding each twin, one memory stands out clearly.
I was watching my daughter A in her incubator as she lay under the purple billy lights. Her face was covered with her cpap holder and her eyes shielded with a little superhero mask. She was laying on her stomach and slightly moved her arm which popped her should blade up. Since she was weighing in at about three pounds at that point, there was literally only skin covering the bone.
The pang of sadness that struck my heart was intense and still makes my eyes water. I felt as if I had failed them by not keeping them safely tucked inside for a few more weeks. Quickly, I made myself push that thought away because I knew this would not help them in the slightest bit.
Yesterday when we went to see the developmental pediatrician, my sweet girl weighed in at 14 lbs 12 oz which put her at the 95th percentile for her adjusted age and in the 50th percentile for her non-adjusted age. I love her chubby cheeks and the rolls on her legs. They remind me of how far she's come and how grateful I am for that.