2x2=4

Let me start this by saying I haven't written in a long time, and I currently feel like I'm working with less than half my brain, so.... with that being said...

This past November, I turned 30. I welcomed this new decade with open arms. Things had been so joyously good that it felt the beginning of a new era. An era in which my kids are getting older, bringing new excitement, opportunities, and freedoms. They are thriving in trying new things, growing their independence, and have the best sense of curiosity. This growth gave me the confidence to loosen the leash for the first time. I was finding myself outside of the lens of motherhood and even dating my husband again. We were having fun and finding new legs in this stage of life.

I never want to wish a season away, but there were times in the past year when I thought about how much more fun the following year would be. When Lincoln and Thea could do all the rides together. I wouldn’t have to chase a new walker around the beach. They’re both walking to and from the truck. My back isn’t breaking, and I’m not changing diapers. We are so close to being done with so many “baby” things, I commonly reminded myself.

On November 13th, the day after my birthday, I took a pregnancy test on a bit of a whim but with a sneaking suspicion. The test was over two years expired, which only makes it more likely to give a false negative, yet it produced a glaring positive. 

I cried. 

And I cried. 

And I cried. 

I spent the entire day crying. All I could think about was how the clock was reset on me. How long it took me to get to this new “here” and how long it would take me to get back there again. We’ve been telling the world we’re done. To say the pregnancy was a shock is an understatement. We’re obviously well versed in how babies are made, and friends, the spray and pray method WILL FAIL YOU. I am exhibit A. 

Matt, the unwavering saint that he is, immediately jumped into supportive mode as I crumbled. This is the same man who has always joked if we had a third, he wouldn’t touch it. I’ve never let him forget he literally had one job, and his failure to perform that task got us in this position. LITERALLY. So it’s a good thing his only words were, “It’s going to be okay.” 

I have thrown up 1-15 times a day since first finding out. I am so violently ill and not having a good time. This pregnancy is out to teach me some lessons. 

Those closest to us knew very early about the pregnancy because there was no hiding it with as sick as I am. Matt and I laughed at everyone’s excitement like, “How does anyone in the world think this is okay? We feel like unprepared teen parents despite being in our 30's, married, home owners, and with two kids.” These people are delusional.

Telling Thea is where I finally saw some sunlight in the situation. My girl is thrilled. She’s hoping for a sister, and I’m on her team. It’s amazing to see how close she and Lincoln are, and their relationship will always be so special. But she wasn’t even two when we had him. This time, she will be almost four and will understand and be a major part of the whole ordeal. She talks about everything she wants to show the baby, protect it, and teach it. It makes me explode. 

And then Lincoln… before I even knew I was pregnant, he would come up to me and rub my belly and say, "Baby baby baby." And I’d just say yes, you’re the baby. He’d do it over and over again. Now, I swear he knew. He was still nursing then and the milk changes pretty quickly. Maybe that was his hint? Idk but he was insistent and still does it all the time. He’s off the milkies, though; THANK GOODNESS.

It took me a while to get in to see my midwife (insurance problems). By the time I was able to see her, I was so desperate for answers. I was told regardless of how far along I was, it would be a pregnancy confirmation appointment, which I was frustrated about. Being my 3rd pregnancy, I didn’t need to pee in their cup to have it confirmed. 

I adore my midwife so so so very much. I messaged her, complaining about how sick I was and how far along I’d be at the first appointment. She took care of me as much as possible through messages and greeted me at my first appointment with an iPad ultrasound tool. She had a student with her and explained this isn’t typical, but I love this patient, so I’m hooking her up with a wink. 

I thanked her a hundred times and told her how terrified I was that it was twins. She said why?! So, I gave her the laundry list. 

There are twins on all four sides of our families; most importantly, my mom is a twin. I’ve been debilitatingly sick the entire time, and I wasn’t at all with either of my other two. At 12 weeks pregnant, I could pass for six months. Just, you know, every reason.

So, I told her I’m looking for you to say it’s just one and you’re really sick. She repeated that back to me. Then she touched my stomach with the probe and immediately said, “Oh, it’s twins.” Sure as the sun, there were two little babies wiggling right on the screen. 

To be certain of it and to have it confirmed are still two totally different things. I’d say I was stunned, but I wasn’t surprised. I would’ve been more shocked had it actually only been one at that point. 

We thought we were done, and now we’re doubling. I’m strangely calm about this news. The initial shock of the pregnancy far outweighs my reaction to knowing it’s two. 

This is what I’m made for. This is what my family is supposed to be. 

Now I’m having visions of all the cuddles, giggles, and slobbery kisses I’ll be gifted. I’m hearing the squeals of play and laughter that will fill my house for years to come. I’m imagining the spirit of competition and teamwork in all the 2v2 games of the future. I’m ready to wear my referee hat, bang my judge mallet, clap in the stands, and offer the comfort only a mommy can for my four babies for the rest of their lives. 

I can close my eyes and look off into the distant future when my kids are grown, and friends, and starting families of their own and being the hub of a big family in the same way my Nanny has been, and that image fills me with such warmth; I know this life is meant for me. 

So, like my husband said, “Now we figure it out”. 

It’s what we’ve always done and what we will always do. 

Next on the list- a damn minivan.