Thursday, May 19, 2011

I should have known

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.

3 comments:

  1. it's amazing how all the plans we make could never have brought us the joy that uncontrollable chaos has delivered.

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  2. I dare anyone to say they haven't done the same.

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  3. I love this. And you won't stop doing this even when they're five. Or nine. It's breathtaking, isn't it? that moment.

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