When we found out we were pregnant with twins, I told myself, Lord willing, if we were able to meet and raise these sweet babes, I wouldn’t spend all my time writing about having twins.

And yet?

Here we are.

{Say hello to my little twins}

 

When it comes to writing, in this hard season of life, I try not to overthink what I want to write about. {Mainly because it’s often hard to think at all} When I’ve been able to create a time and space to write, which isn’t as often as I’d like, I almost always mentally land on musings about this crazy world of twins that we’ve unexpectedly, but so thankfully, landed in. 

So, yes, I’ve become that guy. 

And you guys….we’ve made it 7 months…with twins. {Someone hand me a trophy}

But much more than that I’ve realized, via the world of twins, how much more my view of motherhood has expanded. As I look back on these 7 short but long months, I’ve had to wrestle with many of the following on an intense level; expectations, hurt, forgiveness, asking for help, thriving and praying.

Expectations.

I’ve done the baby gig before. I’ve had babes 14 months apart before. I thought I had an idea. I didn’t. And I’ve spent the last 7 months trying to reconcile those expectations. There is so much you forget about raising babies, no matter how many you’ve had, but then{?!?!} with twins, it comes at you by twos . {A collective duh, I know}. On top of that? Navigating parenting pre-teens and young kids is hard in and of itself. But what I’ve come to appreciate {ok, honestly, still, working on it} is I’ve had to be really honest with my kids about where I’m at. I’ve had to sincerely tell them that mom has no idea what she’s doing and that we are figuring it out together and mom is doing her best. I have had to remind them, when we haven’t seen the outside of the homestead for what seem like years, that this is a season and wont be like this forever. I have seen them work to forgive mom and talk through some hurts that we might not have gotten to had we not been in twin survival mode. I’ve had to let my limitations show. And that’s been hard but good for them to see.

Hurt.

Whooo boy. Hormones are hard. Pregnancy hormones are harder. Post pregnancy hormones are the hardest. Add any of those to life and people and it can be a tidal wave of hurt. I know I myself have hurt people. When I’m struggling or in survival mode, I usually cut off contact {which as an introvert isn’t much to begin with} and I burrow down in my hole. At least until I feel I have a handle on life, which, consequently, never happens. But I find I have a need to get to a place where I’m OK with that before I peek my head out of the groundhog hole. Most the time I have no idea how to articulate how I’m actually doing because the only thing I really feel is tired. And hungry. 

People. There are always going to be people who say they will be there for you and they aren’t. That is life. And having twins is no exception. People are human and often life gets in the way for them as well. But nevertheless, it hurts. It hurts to have to remind people of the season of life you are in, knowing that they are offended in some way by your actions or inaction. It’s going to happen. I know it. And it did.

Forgiveness.

In the end, we need to seek out forgiveness all around. For us. And for others. 

This one has been probably the hardest for me. I don’t usually hold a grudge but I also don’t forget an offensive. {I’m going to pretend those are different} But?!? I’m also learning that forgiveness is freedom. I’ve offended much. I’ve been forgiven much. 

There’s been much forgiveness needed and needed to give in these past 7 months.

And it’s both a choice and a process. Something I’m coming to terms with.

Asking for help.

Anyone who knows me know I would rather break my arm carrying 30 bags of groceries in than ask for help with them. Or anything. Want to know the best cure for that? {Spoiler alert} Having twins. I can’t do this alone. One of the hardest things when learning we were going to have twins, for me, was knowing I’d need help. Dang it. I knew it.

One of the hardest phone calls I’ve made in these past 7 months was trying to find someone to help during the day with the twins. {I know, I know, people have to do this all the time, this demonstrates the depths of my pride}. The beautiful result of that was not only help during the day but gaining a beautiful friend in the process. 

I’ve had to ask moms if they could take my kids, watch them, and feed them in ways I’ve never had to before. And it’s been humbling and beautiful. Moms are the best. Friends are the best-est. A resounding “thank you” to each of you. 

These 7 months have taught me the beauty of asking for help. 

Thrive. 

Want to know an amazing byproduct of asking for help? Thriving.

I could honestly sob at the thought of the beautiful people that have shown up in our lives after we had the twins. Some expected, some unexpected but all beautiful. What these past 7 months have taught me, even more deeply, is that WE NEED PEOPLE. It is the very lifeblood of the broken, beautiful church that has emerged out of the sacrifice of Christ. Not only do we need people, but there are some really good people. {Many of whom have yet to get a written “Thank you” from me, sorry!} I was completely humbled by people willing to drive out to our homestead in Egypt, and bring meals, take kids, or just encourage us as we set up our home NICU for our preemie twins. We thrive, no matter the circumstances, when people show up. And they have. And so we have thrived in this hard season. Because of help. Because of community. 

Pray.

Everyday. I have to ask the Lord, everyday, what my day is to look like because, everyday, I am so freaking bone tired. I often feel like I’m in the dark with no flashlight. The Lord, truly, has been that light, however ugly my day. While learning to pray through the ache of survival mode, I’m learning the exhausted joy of sitting {literally, just sitting} with all of the kids as we muddle through our day. The slow, beautiful, burn of slowing down our lives, has been hard but rich. What I’ve come to realize, even more so, in these 7 months is that it truly is the Lord that orders our steps. I bring nothing. He supplies. And this is true always. Not just in this season.

The 7th month stretch has been nothing if not reflective.

I know there’s more to come in the innings ahead.

Like finally figuring out how to leave the house.