Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Three Years Old

Just three years ago, Lauren and Keith were two little babies kicking around in my stomach. I used to call it "moving furniture." I don't know why, but I imagined their little bodies inside me doing all sorts of stretchy moves. Who would have ever imagined those two would come out in the end?

When I was pregnant I didn't have much in mind about what they were going to look like, but I sort of thought my son would look like me and my daughter would look like Justin. I was totally wrong on that, the first of many things.

The pregnancy was the most difficult things I'd done, but everyone told me having two newborns would be worse, that I should sleep as much as possible before they came. Which was an oxymoron, because all night starting about 9PM, the last month of the pregnancy, I was up with contractions. Once the babies came, I could sleep again. I could breathe, sit up and even eat! It was amazing and instantly happened once I delivered them. Letting almost 14 pounds of baby out of my body along with all the amniotic fluid and two placentas felt so freeing. I was getting more sleep than before, despite having two newborns who were up all hours of the night.

Everyone said I'd feel sad and empty that they weren't inside me anymore. But I don't remember feeling that way. The two of them were so magical from the minute we brought them home. The first nap, we'd set them down in the crib, a foot apart, only to find them later sleeping face to face, nose to nose. One rolled over, the other rolled over. They slept touching always, connected in a way that I would never feel with anyone else. They seemed like an old married couple, the way they moved. Like two souls who'd known each other forever, much longer than the 37 weeks I'd carried them.

I never wanted twins. I never wanted to be a twin. I thought it would be awful, that you wouldn't be treated as an individual, but instead, "the twins." Like a unit, like no one would know your name. Independence was perhaps my most valued character trait. I think I was wrong there too. It helps that my twins aren't identical, it gives them more separation.

I've watched Keith and Lauren, how they learn together, from each other. Most of their milestones are days apart. How they keep each other in check, how they play together. Even how they hit each other when one is acting up. Little spats, like a quick loud cat fight. They enter new places, new schools with ease, having each other to ease them into whatever new activity has come up.

It took me until they were two to see the virtue of having a twin. When we were growing up, Carrie and I often went on the church ski trip or trip to the Canadian-American Peace Gardens in North Dakota. My mom always had to fudge one of our ages so we could go together- they were in 2 year age segments, and I was three years older. I never minded lying a little so I could have my sister along. Actually, when she came on the bus with me, I loved it too, we always sat together and skied together. I think I would have loved having a twin. I didn't realize that til now, but I would have loved having Carrie with me more than I even had.

I've also gotten to see gender differences. Having had only sisters, when I found out I was having a boy, I quickly called my friend Lourdes and asked her, "How do I change his diaper?" and "How would I know if he had a penis infection or something? She said, "You'll know." and "It's easier to clean him up than a girl." I was relieved and figured I could handle a son. Her son was her easy child and her daughter was her more spirited one, so she convinced me that he would be easy. Turns out her daughter and my son are more alike and my daughter and her son, but it still helps to talk to her.

So three years ago, I was one hour from meeting Lauren and Keith. That day was filled with trepidation and excitement, hopefulness and wonder. I imagined a lot of things, but I underestimated how amazing it would be like to have children. Sure, we've spent days and months very stressed out and tired, but the small things add up. Keith doctoring his babies and putting his chickens to sleep, Lauren taking me on an elevator ride in the hallway and an airplane ride to Carolina on the couch. Reading thousands of books, walking to the store. The years are slipping by... first we went in a stroller and then with harnesses and now everyone walking on their own.

The air outside is hazy and thick with smoke, fires all around us, reminding me of my mortality and wondering if I should've brought children into this messed up world. At night, I think about what more can I do? Could I change careers? Could I make more of a difference? What will happen to this planet? Morning comes and I start my day again with the twins. They give me a reason to live, motivation to to better, and a hope for the future.

Three years old today. Cheers to many many more years, I hope.