This time last year, I had been a mom for a short while. My poor son was all by his lonesome in the NICU, and I had banished my daughter to the nursery so I could sleep comfortably for the first time in 2 months. My hospital room was designated a biohazard site due to my bodily fluids spewing forth. I tried to explain to the authorities that IV antibiotics always make me sick, but they were concerned about issues with my "other end" so to speak.
The night before the birth, I sat with the twins' Daddy on the couch and teared up. He said, "Why are you crying NOW?" I said, "This is all I've ever wanted in the whole wide world! I can't wait to see them!"
The morning of the birth, dearest Daddy filmed me waddling down the hall like a penguin. Rightly so, as I was wearing a white shirt with black sleeves, black pants and orange socks. Another fine cinematographic moment was capturing my bare twin-filled belly approaching around the corner before the rest of me. Ah...such memories.
Now, a year later, we have survived. Quite well, I might add. No illnesses, only called the pediatrician's office twice in the last year. Flew by instinct and the seat of our pants. I asked Daddy how the first year of the rest of his life has been so far. He said, "AWESOME!" I second that. It is sooooooo true what everyone says. It goes by amazingly fast, and now I can see why when we ask other parents of older children about the early weeks or months they say, "Oh Jeez...I can't remember...it's pretty hazy."
And as I sit here, noshing on my daily oatmeal and Viennese coffee, I hear the clanking of crib rails, jingles of stuffed animals and sing-song of morning baby babble. It is pure music to my mothering ears.
Stay tuned for photos once we assemble them from the various cameras firing away at the birthday party.
a room of her own
1 day ago