It has been two months since the twins were born. In these two months, my body has healed, shrunk back to my scrawny size (well, except for this ridiculous extra skin around my middle), and I can now move at a regular speed. It feels good to be "normal" again.
I am spending time with my kids and with Jason. I am working and directing the play. The children have begun all of their spring activities- riding horses, tumbling, and soon we will be in baseball season. Life is busy, but busy is good I suppose...
I have seen pictures of the twins as they have grown, and they are growing like weeds! Their little faces have filled out, and their parents seem to be over-the-moon-happy still. They sent me a necklace with two doves on it- one to represent each child I brought into the world for them. It was one of the most touching gifts I have ever received, and the only necklace I have ever worn with regularity.
I am moving on, and many days I don't really think about the twins. I have found that what really makes me think of them is when I see a pregnant woman or a mother with a newborn baby- especially twins. The first time I saw a mom with newborn twins, I almost left the restaurant. I am somehow fascinated by newborns still... the only explanation I have for this is that my body and my subconscious don't realize that I'm not "supposed" to have a baby in my arms. It feels like my body is sending me signals of sorrow for the infant I should have. It is only a temporary feeling, and I understand it for what it is. The thing that I love about this feeling- and it may seem absurd- is that it makes me understand infertility just a little bit better. I think of the sorrow I feel at the "missing" babies I delivered, and then I think of the pain it must bring to the woman who is actually missing her child. I cannot imagine her pain and her grief. It makes me appreciate my children more. It makes me appreciate the miracle of surrogacy more. It makes me love these families that look to surrogacy or adoption to have children even more. Every part of this journey has been a gift- even the sorrow- for the sorrow brings joy much greater than the sadness it springs from.
I am still moving on and every day I grow further from this journey. It will always be a part of me, and I will always love this family that is now part of my heart. Every time I get a new picture of them, my heart leaps with joy. Every time I hear from them, a smile breaks out on my face.
I think of this heart-filling contentment, and I wonder, how can I not do this again?