by Sarah Royle
I read all the books. And I mean ALL the books. They said that the average twin is smaller than the average singleton baby. And they said that babies of vegan mothers tend to be smaller than babies of non-vegan mothers (they didn’t say why). So as a vegan carrying twins I was worried. I decided that my mission for the next few months was to grow babies. Big babies. And I decided that the only way I could do this was to rest and eat. And nothing else. So that’s what I did. I stopped work when I still had over 3 months to go, and I sat with my feet up and ate well-planned, nutritious meals. Planned by me, but not cooked by me. Well, all that standing in the kitchen wouldn’t help to grow big babies, would it? And what can you do sat down with your feet up? Well, there was the World Cup… Or I could read. Which is what I did. I read all the parenting books. The medical ones, the humorous ones, the serious ones, the worrying ones. All of them. So I knew what to expect. I knew exactly what to expect. I knew all about labour. I knew exactly what to pack in my hospital bag (so if it’s twins should I pack double the number of blankets?) I knew how many vests I needed to buy. Everything. And then the big day came, and the babies were born, and then we came home. And then I realised. I knew nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’d read the books, I’d even done the classes. But they all stopped at birth. What next? I now had two wonderful, adorable babies (the books had missed that bit too, just how beautiful they would be), and I didn’t know the first thing about what to do next. Was it missing from the books, or had I just stopped reading when I got to D-Day? I got out the books, and started re-reading. The problem was that for 9 months, more or less, I had been reading about the “babies”, or, in most cases, the “baby”. But I hadn’t given birth to any old babies. I had given birth to my own two amazing babies, with their own unique, faces, cries, and most definitely, their own personalities. Nowhere in the books did it tell me what that particular cry of Ellie’s meant, or that odd little glance of Isaac’s. The midwife couldn’t tell me, the Health Visitor couldn’t tell me. Because no-one was an expert at understanding my own two unique little children.
Yet.
But they would be soon. I would be soon.
I threw aside the books. This was where the learning would really begin.
And what would I say to anyone setting out on this same journey? Read books, lots of books. Thrillers, Romances, Biographies, anything. Why? Because you wont have another chance for a while, and nothing can prepare you for twins, not even if you read all the books. Take it from one who really HAS read all the books!