Twins

I couldn’t NOT write about my time spent with my (shhhhhh favorite) niece, her significant other, and their newborn twin boys. I’ve been here a week and I’ve been too much in the moment, it’s only right now I am inspired to write. My heart is breaking just a little bit as I am smack in the middle of witnessing my niece in her own growth spurt. Last night was the twin's dad’s first overnight work day, leaving mom with the boys for 24+ hours. The not-so-new-now parents have been gearing up for this during the 4 weeks he has had off from work. It’s the main reason I’m here. But for the days I've been here, leading up to today, it’s been a lot of fun and figuring-out and many unforeseen surprise moments of “We Got This.”  All week I've been watching how much they’ve got this. It’s been a pleasure to observe. My cheeks have experienced a constant smiling resting face. 

But this morning I got a text from my niece at 4 am, from her bedroom to mine, that it’s been a long night and she’s going to sleep in instead of going to the gym. The gym is her grounding place. Her sanity. Her first love. She’s been athletic since grammar school. So for sleep to be more important than getting in gym time, I know it had to be a big learning curve night. It is that very nature of willpower she has had all her life that will help her “get this” too. By next week, I have no doubt, she will have figured out how to get two babies down for the night with minimal to no screaming from them. Or, a fair amount of screaming realizing that’s just going to be part of it until the boys understand it’s not as bad as they think. And, will have the middle-of-the-night-time sleeping/feeding/diaper change slam-dunked.

I woke up this morning to two bottles placed neatly on the stovetop, filled with water to the correct line of ounces, a plastic cup that holds 3 pre-measured amounts of formula (clearly the person who designed this cup was not thinking "twins"), and clean syringes ready to be filled with the boys' vitamins. This is the first time I've woken up to this level of organization. That’s when I knew, she is in the middle of a big “figuring this out.” It just seemed to speak, this is a hard one.

We all know moments in our lives like this. When every ounce of you knows this task in front of you is more than you can do, but you have to do it. And you have to do it alone. And you do it through your tears.

At 4:30 am, in the quiet and glow of the overhead stove light, I finished knotting up the full kitchen garbage bag. She appeared in the kitchen. I put down the garbage, put her head on my shoulder, kissed the top of it, and held her tired body. I could feel her sink into me. I hoped holding her was enough to convey that I know where she is at this moment. I know she is exhausted. She feels beaten down. That she's in the middle of figuring-out, and she's on the losing end still. I hope she can feel this embrace means she has me in her corner, I see her, and I couldn't be any more proud of her. So big, proud of her.

I know, this time next week will be worlds away from this moment, where she can't see any light of success yet. She will have a vague memory at best of it. It will have become a funny story to tell. Her first overnight with the boys. It will be added to the so many, “We Got This” experiences.

I love babies and this week has been total heaven on earth for me to hold them and do all the baby things. But the real pleasure and honor has been to witness up close and personal this young couple working as a loving team, for each other and their boys, experiencing this season of life when your sole (soul) purpose is the responsibility of another life (lives).

They so got this.