The terrible turned eighteen months today. I was thinking back over the last two years and what a strange trip it’s been.
Three Christmas’ ago, I peed on a stick and a little positive sign popped up. After seven little pee sticks I decided I was pregnant. I cried. Tears, big, sloppy, ugly tears of pure fear. I guess a little excitement too. Mostly fear and anxiety.
Fast forward to saint patty’s day 2011. Congratulations! You’re having twins! What? More tears. A lot more tears. Bigger, wetter, uglier tears.
July 25th, 2011. They come six weeks earlier than expected. Yup, you guessed it, more tears. I cried myself to sleep everyday for the two weeks they spent in the NICU. Pure sadness. Pretending everything is great for family and friends is really difficult when your face is so swollen from crying.
Sometime around October of 2011 the terrible developed colic. Tears of frustration, and exhaustion rolled down my cheeks every single night. Anyone who has had a colicy baby knows how difficult maintaining sanity is. Imagine two at once. Just imagine it. I’ll give you a moment….
Then one day no more tears. No more sadness. Just survival. Get through the day, get to bed, do it all again tomorrow. Sometime around their first birthday, it started to get really fun. They started walking, and playing, and discovering.
So, eighteen months later with a lot more gray hairs; I still cry. Only, it’s tears of laughter. The terrible are hilarious. Jason and I find the humor in our crazy life. We have to. We wouldn’t want it any other way. We couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Ben reading while picking his nose
Alex stuck in a wagon, again.