Everyone has their story to tell.
My story is no better than yours — just different. And I’m proud of my story, so I want to share it with you!
I had T H R E E babies in T W O years.
My journey started a few months after I got married. We married in June and found out we were pregnant in late August. The baby would have been due in April. A few short days after finding out we were pregnant, we lost the baby. Our first baby was approximately six weeks along. To some, this isn’t something they stress about. I mean, the statistics are evident that 10-25% of all clinically recognized pregnancies will end in miscarriage. But to me, this baby was wanted, needed, and already so loved.
What a woman has to go through, by the way, is nothing short of emotionally and physically excruciating. We immediately went in for blood work. The blood work confirmed that — yes I was pregnant. My levels were, in fact, rising. However, since I was bleeding heavily, there was nothing they could do for me until I came back two days later for more blood work. I went back two days later. The levels were still rising. However, I was still bleeding. All signs pointed to me losing my first child, yet there was still nothing I could do. I had to wait. And cry. And wait.
Two days later, more blood work confirmed the ultimate fear… I had a miscarriage. I don’t care how long you’ve been pregnant or how you got pregnant. The pain is unique to each mother who suffers. And it was real.
A few months later, we conceived again. Although frightened and a little unsure of how to react, days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. And we had a precious baby boy on a beautiful October morning!
Around a year later, my husband was getting antsy–thinking that we needed to start trying to have another child. We didn’t want our kids to be too far apart in age. Well, it didn’t take long. When our baby was 15 months old, we got pregnant again. We were ecstatic for this because we wanted to continue to grow our family. So, the idea of having another child was great! The kids would be 25 months apart. Perfect, right?!
At my eight week appointment, my doctor asks me if I want to hop on the ultrasound machine to see baby! Of course I was pumped because normally I wouldn’t get to see baby until 20 weeks. Low and behold, we found out we were having… TWINS!
I was able to carry the girls for 37 weeks and 5 days. I delivered the twins vaginally, and they did not serve any NICU time. After having so many friends with traumatic birth stories, I realize how lucky we are to have this happen. We are so thankful for my body doing what it needed to in order to grow these babies big and strong. I’m pretty dang proud of my body for doing what it needed to.
Fast forward to life now: my oldest is four and the twins are two.
Life is C R A Z Y.
Life is wonderful.
Life is planned. {as much as it can be}
Life is a lot like Jurassic Park. {They’re the ferocious dinosaurs, by the way.}
Life is sometimes so full of love it almost makes me want to have another.
Seriously though, what is that? In the midst of the snotty noses, pukes, diarrhea and sleepless nights, I always tell myself I can’t ever do this again. Heck, half the time I’m not even sure I can do it again another day. But then I do, and then they are cute and snuggly, and their sweet smell brings me back on board with the chaos that is motherhood.
They completely warp my sense of motherhood, and actually make me believe I need another baby.
Don’t worry. This isn’t a pregnancy announcement.
My body did an amazing thing though. It allowed me the opportunity to carry three babies in my belly in two years. It stretched to a body I didn’t recognize. It gained the weight it needed to very delicately grow each baby to a substantial size and gather the nutrients they needed to thrive on the outside of the womb. Growing one baby is hard enough. Growing two babies at once is absolutely wild!
My days are often unbalanced and not picturesque, but my heart is so full of love. There are days when I don’t feel like I measured up, but there are more days when I feel like I am doing alright.
One day in particular runs clear in my head. We’re at the KCMB Spring Family Egg Hunt. All three kids are there. I’m supposed to be working by scanning people into the event with my phone. I had two out of three kids hanging on me, wanting me to pick them up. Although most people dismissed it, or didn’t call attention to it, there was one mom who acknowledged what was happening. With a grin on her face she said to me, “this is amazing, by the way.” as she pointed to the twins hanging on my leg and shirt.
Thank you. Whoever you are. For noticing and laughing instead of being annoyed.
And I’m sorry….to the rest of you who had to see all the meltdowns. It is what it is.
So, three kids in two years has really helped me understand (or try to understand) the magnitude of a child’s heart, growth and development. It helped me understand how much a mother is such an integral part of their child’s life.
I realize someday they’ll prefer me not to hug them and kiss them and squeeze them and tickle them. But for now, I’ll squeeze out every ounce I can.
“There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.” F. Scott Fitzgerald.
