I have a big mouth – in that, I bite off more than most people can chew. That’s why I ended up with two babies overnight. First I was asked to take a 1mth old. Of course I said yes. The next day I was asked to take the 8mth old at the same home. The foster parents were going away overnight.
“You have two cribs, right?” the social worker asked.
Technically, I have three. My social worker dislikes two (for some reason she’s not a fan of Ikea). But I know they meet all the necessary requirements. So I said, “Yes, I can take both babies.”
Saturday at 1pm until Sunday at 1pm is when I had them. It may have been the longest 24hrs of my life. The foster mom hasn’t yet found a formula that agrees with the little one. She send along something new that had him fussing all night. In between night feedings, I tried to put him down. But that resulted in loud wails that woke his 8mth old roommate.
At 4am I was juggling feeding two babies. The older one really wasn’t due for a bottle. But it was 4am. After a 20min nap at 7pm, he’d been up until nearly 10pm. I was not ready start the day. I fed him a bottle and put him to bed. Thankfully, he fell back asleep and didn’t wake again until 7:30am. That’s a much better hour for me.
However, the littlest one didn’t get much rest that night. Nor did I. My inherent mother’s guilt was in full force on Sunday. The 8mth old was fussy. The 1mth old was fussy. Who do I pick up? Have I been favouring the younger over the older? Is this going to scar them for life? Am I planting seeds of rejection? The 8mth old looks at me longingly from his play mat on the floor but I decided to feed the 1mth old instead because he’s spit up his last two bottles.
Then there’s my own girls clamoring for attention. I’m counting the hours until bed. Sure, if this were daily life I’d adjust. I might even have fun. But instead it was 24hrs I muddled through. And after it all, I still wouldn’t mind a baby or two of my own. By that I mean foster babies somewhat permanently in my home.
But no calls yet.