Business Trip

I had to leave this afternoon to get to the airport, and Milo was still sleeping. Nora was awake, of course; she is still awake almost all of the time. Milo probably sleeps a good two hours more than Nora in any given day. So I placed her in the arms of the twin whisperer and kissed her and told her that I would be back in three days. I wanted to cry but that would have upset Nora, so I held it together and smiled as I left. What a stupid idea, traveling when they are so young. What was I thinking?

I’m writing this on the airplane and I just called Jake before we took off. The babies’ bedtime has come and gone. Nora wouldn’t drink more than an ounce from him and cried. I was afraid of that; at night, before bed, she won’t drink from him and I always have to be the one to feed her. Thank GOD the twin whisperer was there and stayed late to help Jake put them to bed. The twin whisperer got Nora to fall asleep in her arms, and then basically fed Nora in her sleep. Tomorrow night the twin whisperer will also be there, but what about Friday night? I have been the only one she’ll accept comfort from at night, and now I’m not there. Again, what was I thinking?

But it’s done, and I hope they’ll survive. Hopefully I haven’t damaged the babies by leaving them for three days. I need to try to enjoy this opportunity a little bit instead of constantly obsessing about whether the babies are okay. I need to try to enjoy being in a hotel room, all by myself, all night long, something I fantasized about just a few short months ago. Tomorrow morning Nora will be happy and laughing, even if tonight is a tough one.

There is something about motherhood and guilt that is difficult to assimilate. Prior to becoming a mother the feeling of guilt was a compass, telling me that I’d done something wrong. Now, though, I feel guilty a lot, even if I haven’t necessarily done anything wrong. Or have I? It’s not so clear anymore. I feel guilty for going to work and leaving the babies. But sometimes I feel guilty for the very opposite, for not working more. I feel guilty for going on this trip. I feel guilty if we don’t make it outside for a walk. I feel guilty if I get frustrated with the babies. I feel guilty for a lot of things, and it’s hard to know which of those things really matters and which are just me being paranoid. Sometimes I even feel guilty for having twins, so that neither baby gets the attention he or she deserves.

To end on a completely different note, I have a secret message for the NYC dickhead at the gate counter. Dude, you aren’t special. We all need to get where we’re going. We’ve all got important business to conduct. We all have to wait our turn. We all have connecting flights that we’re going to miss. Nothing about your situation was unique to you, nothing about it merited you cutting in line, yelling at nobody in particular, and abusing the gate agent. You’re like 50 or 60 years old. Haven’t you learned any maturity in all that time? Grow the hell up.