Eleven years ago today, I woke up early and prayed. I had prayed the entire day before, as I had for much of my pregnancy. Up until that moment, aside from a bout of PUPPP, everything had gone my way. I was sitting at 37 weeks and 6 days. I had carried two babies (two!) until past term, technically. I was still able to walk and eat and move for goodness sakes. Could I be so selfish as to ask that the last piece magically fit as well?
I alternated my words to God with silent moments; I envisioned the movement of Baby A, willing him or her to rise up out of the pelvis and turn, sparing me from a C-section. Baby B was head down and ready to make the journey the intended way; why couldn't Baby A have done the same? And yet, it was not to be.
I won't bore you today with the details. I've already done that before. But on this day, the girls' 11th birthday, the memories come flooding back, inundating me with thoughts of how it felt to be expecting twins, not knowing if they were girls or boys or identical or fraternal; thoughts of whether or not I would be able to handle two babies (two!); thoughts of how much pain the C-section caused and how scared I was that I wouldn't wake up from general anesthesia; thoughts of seeing my two beautiful baby girls, and marveling at the fact that I could grow anything so perfect.
After a minor meltdown, possibly spurred by a little insecurity mixed with the onset of hormonal fluctuation, I spoke with Talia last night. I told her some of what I wrote above, while I hugged her with everything I had. I hoped that the warmth of my arms would envelope her in a love so strong, she'd remember it forever. I also explained to her how absolutely unique she is, even if she doesn't always feel like it. Once our conversation was over, I realized something.
It may have taken 11 years to do so, but it is certainly clear that it was relatively easy to nurse two babies, hold two babies, recover from a C-section, and find out if the girls were identical or fraternal. But making sure that Zoe and Talia always feel extraordinary, even when most people cannot tell them apart, well, that has been the most difficult issue I've encountered.
And I think that is why Baby A, our little Zoe, stayed put all those years ago. Her stubbornness was apparent then, and it's more than obvious now. If nothing else, it sets her apart from her twin.
Happy Birthday, Ladies!
***
Just as an aside, Talia also has characteristics that I identify with her. One of them would be sensitivity. But stubbornness and sensitivity can, in my opinion, go either way: Good to have the quality in a small quantity, but too much can be a bad thing. We're working on balancing the scales on those qualities!
I alternated my words to God with silent moments; I envisioned the movement of Baby A, willing him or her to rise up out of the pelvis and turn, sparing me from a C-section. Baby B was head down and ready to make the journey the intended way; why couldn't Baby A have done the same? And yet, it was not to be.
I won't bore you today with the details. I've already done that before. But on this day, the girls' 11th birthday, the memories come flooding back, inundating me with thoughts of how it felt to be expecting twins, not knowing if they were girls or boys or identical or fraternal; thoughts of whether or not I would be able to handle two babies (two!); thoughts of how much pain the C-section caused and how scared I was that I wouldn't wake up from general anesthesia; thoughts of seeing my two beautiful baby girls, and marveling at the fact that I could grow anything so perfect.
After a minor meltdown, possibly spurred by a little insecurity mixed with the onset of hormonal fluctuation, I spoke with Talia last night. I told her some of what I wrote above, while I hugged her with everything I had. I hoped that the warmth of my arms would envelope her in a love so strong, she'd remember it forever. I also explained to her how absolutely unique she is, even if she doesn't always feel like it. Once our conversation was over, I realized something.
It may have taken 11 years to do so, but it is certainly clear that it was relatively easy to nurse two babies, hold two babies, recover from a C-section, and find out if the girls were identical or fraternal. But making sure that Zoe and Talia always feel extraordinary, even when most people cannot tell them apart, well, that has been the most difficult issue I've encountered.
And I think that is why Baby A, our little Zoe, stayed put all those years ago. Her stubbornness was apparent then, and it's more than obvious now. If nothing else, it sets her apart from her twin.
Happy Birthday, Ladies!
***
Just as an aside, Talia also has characteristics that I identify with her. One of them would be sensitivity. But stubbornness and sensitivity can, in my opinion, go either way: Good to have the quality in a small quantity, but too much can be a bad thing. We're working on balancing the scales on those qualities!
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