Six Years of Dreams
There are often days I still recall getting the phone call that I needed to put my life on hold and do all I could to focus on my quest to have kids. The thought of never having a child seemed too enormous to fully soak in. Yet I truly never knew how it would happen. But I would explore all the options to have a family.
When I meet people for the first time, they often ask me the same series of questions. Do twins run in your family? Do you like having twins? Are you having more kids? All of these questions are rather harmless. But there is no way I could answer any of them quickly. Well, we know that a challenge I have in life is to be short and to the point. Just like anyone, I have my coined phrases to make them as short as possible.
The group of people who were with me on the fertility journey know the details. The tears of joy mixed in with the ones of heartbreak. The days of trying to give up my love for cheese in order to conceive. To the lesson of having to live and let go.
This reflection is happening in my mind non-stop because this week Blythe and Reese turn six. All of us who love a child know the truly scary, emotional and hope-filled love that encompasses your heart.
With this birthday, I recall all the funny milestones. Then I create my hopes for them for the year. This parenting gig shows how I am constantly working on myself, while trying to parent in the best way I know possible. Giving myself grace on the days I know I did not give the best version of myself. Also, I am always grateful for our family, friends and teachers who provide a support system for my favorite duo.
This duo keeps me humbled and reminds me daily to not put them in a stereotypical box. They are twins yet are individuals and human. They change personalities, fears and interests when I least expect it.
My heart is better because of Blythe and Reese. Now they are old enough to question everything while I try to find the right answers. Looking back at our memories together is why I write this blog. It’s a beautiful way to document the memories we are making.
Blythe: I hope you finally get a dog next year. Also, I hope you realize I have heard you now ask for one 2 million times. Please stay quirky.
Reese: Hoping you get a treasure box to keep all the little things that mean so much to you. Keep your big heart. Do not forget you are a bright light.