A Letter to My Babies: On the Eve of Your Births

What a journey this has been to reach today. Tomorrow you will come into the world. Out of my tummy. No more squirming or rolling around. How I will miss those feelings of you two growing into little people inside me. We've come a long way together, the three of us. I never expected it would happen. After twenty years of an irregular cycle, I thought I had no chance at children and wrote it off in my late twenties. But things changed, and my body told me at thirty-five that I might be a mama someday. I met your dad the same year by a stroke of luck, ending up at a lighthouse off the coast of North Carolina, after years of being a gypsy traveler. And a couple years later we decided to give parenthood a try.

Tonight I sit quietly. Contemplating your arrival. How all these things came together to create you both. The surprise at actually getting pregnant. The shock and fear of the first appointment when we learned there were two of you. My body really went all out when it decided to have a baby. These eight and half months have been a little tumultuous. Carrying twins is not for the weak. I spent hours and days worried about you guys. Worried something would go wrong. Worried I wasn't doing enough. Trying my best.

Now, you've grown up from tiny specks to little people in my tummy. Most of the pregnancy you've laid head to head. I wonder if you'll want to sleep that way when you come out. I think so. I wonder how your little personalities will be. We will soon find out. I think you will both be wonderful. I feel so honored to be blessed with you, my little twin babies.

In the morning we'll have a c-section. I wanted to have a natural birth. But it wasn't meant to be. I don't like to force life to go in the direction I wanted. I've learned enough to follow the road as it lays out in front of me. Sometimes it's not the path I imagined I'd take. In fact, most of my adult life has been quite a surprise to me. I hope when you live your lives, you're able to make changes, adjust and lean in the direction you need to go. I also hope to give you the strength to get through the rough patches that will inevitably arrive. Life is full of surprises, good and bad.

So here we are, the last night the three of us will sleep as one. Your little hearts beating with mine, yet all three with our own rhythms. Your hiccups that come and go. The butts and elbows, and tiny kicks. Your squirming and moving furniture in my tummy. All those days, I never got sick of it. I loved feeling you moving inside me.

I'm a little sad it will be over and worried of course, but I can't wait to start the next step of this adventure. I am so honored to be your mom. I can't wait to meet you, my sweet babies.