Happy Birthday.....squared...

I lay on the table, draped in a sheet. My husband stood next to me, holding our 15mth old daughter. I was waiting for the technician to give me the all clear. My bloodwork didn't look good, and I was there for the doctor to determine if infection had set in following an almost 12 week miscarriage. The screen from the ultrasound meant nothing to me. I was watching my husband's face for a clue. When the tech literally jumped up and ran out to get a doctor, combined with the absolute look of shock, and terror on my husband's face...I became terrifed. I knew surgery must be imminent. Tears started to trickle out of the corner of my eyes. Brittany babbled, unaware of how tightly she was being held. The doctor came in, and didn't say a word as he started to scan me. He made eye contact with Shane and Shane gave a slight nod..."I know." "You know?" the doctor seemed surprised. "I'm a vet. I know." The doctor only nodded. Everything in me was screaming. I didn't know. Was the infection  so bad that I would never have more children? Was I going to die?? Who was going to raise Brittany? I didn't finish the dishes before we came.... I was quickly, silently, putting on my Drama Queen crown. Finally, the doctor remembered that the uterus he was looking at was attached to a person. Bringing me up to speed, he pointed to the screen. Identifying not one, but two babies. My face now matched my husband's. Barely 6 weeks pregnant, we started what has been the ride of a lifetime.

The pregnancy was horrid. Every single day. I felt like two aliens had taken possession of my body. I've never been one to experience the "glow" of motherhood. More like radiating a neon-green color, sweat pouring off of me while I heaved into the toilet for the 123rd time each day. I am not exaggerating. My ribs looked like I had been beaten. Bruised from the force of the vomitting. For 7 1/2 mths, until the babies arrived prematurely. I loved every minute of it. I was having twins.

Its no secret that I essentially became a single mother after the babies were born. Three children, all under the age of two. I can remember thinking I would never sleep again. There were days that they all cried so much I thought their lungs would just give out. Unless mine did first, since I was crying right along with them. I remember calling my dad one day, and he came to get Brittany after he got off of work. I met him at the door, holding babies, in pjs that I had been wearing for a couple of days. They were covered in milk sewage from various ends of my offspring. As  was my hair, back, big toe.... projectile vomiting even from a newborn is a force of nature in its self. He took Brittany, only after getting me to promise him that I would shower. My mom came as often as she could. She was usually the only one that could get Breanna to stop crying, and eat...and then sleep. I was exhausted, and overwhelmed, and blissfully happy. Motherhood was all I had ever wanted.

Over the years, being the mother to twins has given me a front row seat at God's grace. I cannot count the number of times that I have cried out for the strength, the energy, to just make it 30 more minutes until bedtime. Times that I have begged God to lend me His ears because mine just couldn't absorb any more words from tiny, precious mouths. I've folded miles of diapers, teeny socks, ball uniforms until I was cross-eyed...all the while, wondering if it had a bit of worth in all of eternity. And what I have found, and would pass on to all the mamas still in those sleepless years, is that....yes. Yes. In all of eternity, it does matter. God has given me the grace, the strength, the patience every time I've needed it. I saw His hand, the night we came home from church, and itty bitty ask "Mommy, that stuff at church about Jesus coming back some day, and we don't know when it might be...I just need to know one thing. Is it true? Because if it is, I need to pray and get Him in my heart." That night, it was a different kind of tears that fell. More tears fell when I watched my dad baptize both twins. I've heard them share their faith with friends, with strangers, without a second thought. I see a bond between my daughters that overwhelms me at times. They fight. Never think they don't. But I would dare anyone to try to come between them. They still exhaust me. And overwhelm me. And make me cry. But more often than not, the tears are from laughter. My daughters have brought so much joy, and humor to our world. I am seeing glimpses of the women that God is molding them into. And I know the ride is far from over....and I am humbled that He would allow me to be a part of the journey. Happy Birthday, my babies. You make every day worth getting out of bed....you also make getting out of bed very necessary...I love you, and I adore being your mother.