Pink and Purple will be one year olds in just three short days. 72 hours from now we’ll be getting ready for their birthday party. What? How did that happen? Can someone please help me find the last year? I swear it was just yesterday I was sitting in a hospital bed, rubbing my hands on my belly, talking to my babies because no one else was around. My shirts didn’t fit. I couldn’t roll over. I was more uncomfortable than I’d ever been in my life and yet I prayed every morning, every night, while I ate, while I showered, every time I was hooked up to monitors, I prayed to continue being uncomfortable because that meant my babies were safe. That meant they were inside of me and not in this scary world, too early.
After their birth I wasted far too many months questioning why my prayers went unanswered, wondering why I was a preemie mom. And while I was dwelling on all that went wrong, I forgot to pay attention to everything that was going right. Sure, they are babies. Sure, they likely won’t remember but for the last year, I owe them this. I owe them an apology, for forgetting to read them bedtime stories, for crying more than they did, for not starting them on sippy cups sooner, for having to leave them trapped in bouncers or jumperoos, for not holding their hands to help them learn to walk, and for not remembering the little milestones.
It’s hard to think of all the things that didn’t get done in a year. I’ve had 27 of them and still not accomplished everything I wanted. They’ve only had one. Only one year with a future of endless possibilities. Happy Birthday to my twinsies.