I was afraid to have two babies.
I wanted at least one of them to be a boy.
Sometimes I am reminded that God and the universe know better than I do.
These are the babies I was meant to have.
At night I go in at least three or four times after they've gone to sleep. I rest my hand on their chests and I wait to feel their tiny lungs rise with a breath of air. When I feel the subtle movement, I breathe out my anxieties and find peace watching them sleep. I move my hand to their heads, where I run my fingers down their cheeks and whisper my love to them.
And again I think, these are the babies I was meant to have.
I am grateful. I am blessed.
it's amazing how all the plans we make could never have brought us the joy that uncontrollable chaos has delivered.
ReplyDeleteI dare anyone to say they haven't done the same.
ReplyDeleteI love this. And you won't stop doing this even when they're five. Or nine. It's breathtaking, isn't it? that moment.
ReplyDelete