January of 2014 seems like forever ago.
Sometimes, it seems like Emily and Luke have been a part of our family forever and always and at other times I am afraid I might forget to take care of them because I'm still not used to them being around all the time.
A sweet friend with twins informed me many weeks ago that the first six months of her babies life are a blur to her now. I can understand that. I can honestly say that I have really, really enjoyed the last four. But there are so many parts of their beginning that seem so foreign to me. Almost as if someone else gave birth to them and lived my life for me for a few months.
It is only now that I am beginning to realize that I might have been (be?) a bit traumatized. I GREW TWO humans in my body ya'll. TWO. People are constantly asking me if I'm going to have more, or declaring me "done" since I have both a boy and girl. Can I be honest? The idea of having another baby right now just scares the crap out of me. Sometimes I lay in the bath tub and I trace my c-section scar with my finger. I was watching "Botched" the other day and the plastic surgeon was discussing a ladies previous surgery from the year before and explaining that the wound was still too fresh to work on yet. My scar, their birth, and the months afterward are still too fresh.
I have been praised repeatedly for quickly reclaiming my pre-baby figure, and I want to laugh out loud every time it happens. It is true that the number on scale confirms that I have lost all my baby weight. I imagine people have visions of me on the stairmaster or the gym, and subsisting on salad. Did I do Paleo, or Atkins diet post partum? Ha. It's called the "I only have time to feed the tiny humans" diet. Those months immediately after their birth were so, so hard.
Infertility robs you of a lot. By the time most of us "infertiles" arrive at the pregnancy finish line, we have made peace with the fact that our children's conception didn't happen the way we envisioned, or even wanted. But I think so many of us grip so tightly to our birth plans and the post partum details because we are still trying to compensate for the what was taken from us in the first place. And when it all doesn't come out looking like how we thought it would we finally feel the full weight of the whole pregnancy/birth/newborn thing.
Our society doesn't give women enough credit for how physically and emotionally draining it is to grow a baby. Even I seemed to take it a bit for granted while everything stretched and made room for my sunshine girl and chunky little boy. I may have lost the baby weight but my body has changed. I spent 11 weeks on bed rest and while chasing twins has helped me regain some of my strength I am still a long way from that girl who once ran a half marathon...in Austin Hill country. In fact, I doubt I will ever be her again.
I saw a sweet friend a few weeks ago, 38 weeks pregnant, in pain, and with a look of defeat on her face that I remember so well. I could literally feel my heart swell with empathy because I remember. I am sure I didn't say the right thing but I wanted so badly to be an encouragement to her.
I wanted to tell her how she would still be breathless from walking months after the baby was delivered... because pushing a stroller is heavy. :) But staring at baby jeans with little toes sticking out in the sunshine? It is makes them kicking you in the ribs right now so worth it.
I promise.
Love,
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