Seven years ago Dallas and I started talking about having another baby. (Just one) We went back and forth for a while trying to decide if we really wanted to start over with a new baby. My friend (and mother of four) Kathy told me, “you’ll never regret having one, but someday you might look back and wish you’d had one when you had the chance.” Those words of wisdom convinced us to try to have a baby.
Almost everyone we knew teased us about having twins again. My friends, my family, complete strangers – everyone joked about twins. But they were joking. I knew it was a long shot. There were no twins in my family, I was only 32, I was not on infertility medication. This time there would be just one.
We got pregnant pretty quickly. At our first obstetrician visit I asked how soon we would know if it was twins. I didn’t find out about Taryn and John until I was nearly six months along. I needed to emotionally prepare myself. The Doctor said, “We’ll know today. I’ll do an ultrasound to get your due date.” She felt my small 10-weeks-along belly saying, “don’t worry – it feels like a normal singleton pregnancy.”
The ultrasound was a few minutes later, she laid me back and squirted the ultrasound goo on my stomach. Dallas held my hand. She placed the probe on the top of my belly and I saw it immediately. Two. Two little eggs, side-by-side. She crooked her head and looked closer as I said, “ummm…is that what I think it is?”
“Yes. You’ve got the Bobbsey Twins!”
Dallas squeezed my hand. Hard. He said, “That’s wild.” He repeated the squeezing and the comment through the rest of the ultrasound.
We rolled with it. The Army moved us halfway through from Texas to Georgia. I was lucky to have a very healthy pregnancy. Uncomfortable and hot, but healthy. I gained 40 lbs, all belly. At 36 weeks labor was induced. Reese came first at 6 lbs. 14 oz. Jackson came a half hour later at 5 lbs. 13 oz. They were perfectly healthy.
The beginning was stressful. We never slept. I don’t remember eating a full meal. I was exhausted from nursing two babies and still trying to pay attention to two 4th graders. But eventually it got better.
They started walking. Playing. Being boys.
Fun, awesome boys.
I complain all the time. I’m still tired. But I love every second of it. This is the best part of my life. It reminds me of that scene in Hope Floats when Sandra Bullock’s character says, “beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts the most.” This is the middle and even though I only expected one. Even though having two again was scary. Even though I know someday soon all four of these fabulous people are going to leave me to chase their bliss. I get the middle. The middle is the very best part.
Just to prove that, here’s a Jacksonism for you. While eating ice cream cake after dinner Jackson (sitting criss-cross applesauce) bent his head over very close to his crotch. I said, “what are you doing?”
“I’m getting the chocolate drop. It’s down by my nuts.”