Motherhood Infidelity

The absolute hardest thing about having twins is the cheating.

At least that’s what it seems like when I am holding one baby, but smiling and cooing at the other one over his shoulder. I feel like a married woman who’s flirting with another man.

The other day I sat on the couch with Finley to my left and August to my right. I rubbed their tummies, massaged their little legs and talked to each of them, alternately bobbing from side-to-side like a crazed metronome. It was exhausting.

Yesterday, I smooched August as he was lying on the bed learning to roll from his tummy to his back. “Yay! Good job!” I said to him and planted enthusiastic kisses on his big round cheek and soft neck. I clapped and smiled at him. He smiled back happily cooing at me and making me feel like I just lit up his whole world.

I was beaming – for a moment. Then Matt, who was holding our other son right next to me, said, “You have to hold Finley now. He’s looking at you with August and he’s crying. He needs your attention, too.”

I am constantly aware of trying to spread my affection equally between my two boys, and of generally failing. When August and Fin were in the NICU, I’d sometimes end up holding and feeding Finley twice in a day and not spending any quality time with August, or vice versa. I’d go home that night feeling guilty and vowing to focus on August the next day.

This concept of splitting my attention equally is not new. I am an only child. While only children get the benefit of all their parents’ attention, we also have the burden of trying to please two parents.

I remember vividly going on a walk in the Sierra Mountains with my parents when I was about 12 years old and being hyper-aware of the amount of time I spent with Mom and Dad. If I pointed out a particularly beautiful wild flower to Mom, I tried to then share a moment appreciating the stunning view with Dad. I was utterly exhausted by the effort of keeping track of and maintaining equal contact with both of them.

At some point, I realized I can never slice myself perfectly down the middle. My relationship with each parent is separate, but not equal. Still, each Christmas I make sure to buy both parents the same number of gifts. They each get one “big” present and several small ones that all equal out to be roughly the same cost. I even make a list comparing Dad’s gifts to Mom’s: he gets a CD, so she gets some bubble bath etc.

With August and Finley, sometimes at the end of a day I feel like one of them has been deprived of his mommy time. Part of my parental fatigue is caused by keeping a running tally of what I did with each boy. How many times did I feed August vs. Finley today? Did I spend more minutes doing tummy time with one of them? Who got more hugs, kisses, cuddles?

Matt often jokingly asks me, “Which baby is your favorite?” I quip back, “Whichever one isn’t crying.”

In truth, I am determined not to favor one baby over the other and I’m devastated knowing I will surely fail. I take solace in the knowledge that as they get older I will have a unique relationship with each son. And for now, I’ll keep trying to match a kiss for a kiss.