913 days

I remember day 1.  I remember the exhaustion, the pain, the anxiety, the overwhelmingness.  I remember wondering if I would ever heal, if I would ever feel normal or like me again.  I wondered if I would ever get over the exhaustion of that summer - a double pregnancy with 2 energetic boy toddlers to keep up to, helping a husband with a broken back.  Enduring a month of high risk hospital bed rest, followed by a major surgery with the arrival of the twins via c-section.  Overcoming the tense emotions of being separated from them, as Ammon recovered with oxygen and both were monitored in NICU.  I remember the complete heartbreak it was for me to leave them in the hospital, across the state line, when there was no longer room in the inn for me to stay with them.  I remember the joy and relief it was to finally bring them home but the nervous holding of breath at the same time because how was I going to do it with two at once?!?!  I remember being so tired.  So tired that once carrying one of them up the stairs to bed, I stopped and could not remember which foot I was supposed to move next (true story).

913 days later.  Miss is being potty trained.  Ammon continues to whine.  Both sleep through the night.  Miss can dress herself and demands to do so and can say so much she can pretty much verbally communicate with us.  Ammon loves his brothers, can hold his own when wrestling either one of them and enjoys being the 'baby' of the family, and still mama's boy.  They are off the charts for height, weight, health.  No sign of 'preemies' remain.  They read books, build train tracks, race cars, watch shows, color, eat, make messes, help clean up, run and swing and slide and laugh.  They love stickers and puppies and treats and nursery.  They sing songs and do hand actions.  They fold hands and bow heads for prayer.  They give kisses and hugs.  They love life.

And as for mama - I am not so tired.  Most nights I sleep through the night too.  I am finding and defining myself and recovering from the phase of baby raising years.  Some of me will never be the same from having babies.  A few stretch marks stamp the sides of me, stating my passage to motherhood.  Most of me, thank goodness, has returned to normal, or rather my new normal, post 4 babies.  Lots of hard work and it continues to be a process. But the biggest change of all is one that cannot be seen of measured and that is the size and depth of my heart and my love for the four little babies that are growing up into dynamic toddlers and are a blessing to me, this family and all those that know them.