1. Pregnancy - I was always unconvinced that the female form was designed to carry one child, let alone two, and a twin pregnancy did nothing to change my mind. Carrying my two whoppers to 37 weeks, at which point they weighed in at 5lb 15oz and 6lb 6oz, was an inventive form of torture. It started with three months of throwing up or at least feeling as if I wanted to 24/7, followed by a brief lull until my bump reached such gargantuan proportions that by the last few months it was all I could do to shift myself far enough forwards on the sofa to reach the remote. Everyday activities like painting my nails, turning over in bed or walking were beyond me from about 30 weeks. Still I guess it's all good preparation for the inconvenience of being a mother of twins and more.
2. The birth. Imagine how hard it is to squeeze one baby out. Now double that and you have twins. Is it any wonder that this time round I was too posh to push?
3. Money, money, money. I'd imagined that baby number three would live in castoffs just as Max had. And if it turned out to be a she at least she'd be bang on trend by wearing boyfriend jeans from birth. But when one became two the bill doubled overnight as suddenly we needed two car seats, cribs, cots and two mortgages to pay for it all.
4. Transport. Whether its the gas guzzling seven-seater bus I now have to drive, and even worse park, if I want to move all four of my boys around together, or the double buggy that defies any doorway to actually fit around it, getting about with my twins in tow is a pain in the proverbial. Is it any wonder I have resorted to staying at home and working my way through a chocolate biscuit mountain (ordered online of course, online shopping being mum's best friend as I wouldn't dare unleash the brood in a supermarket)? Soon it won't just be the buggy that gets stuck in doorways.
5. Feeding. A perennial problem with babies. If they aren't screaming for milk, they are refusing to take it from your chosen delivery method, sicking it up, developing an allergy to it, complaining vociferously that it gives them wind or transforming it into unbelievably copious amounts of poo. Twins do all that too - twice. Just when one is fed, burped, clean and settled, the other will start up the whole merry-go-round again, which is a game we parents love, particularly at 3am.
Stay tuned for Part II when I am next feeling particularly bright and sunny about being a mum of multiples.