Delight and Fear

I used to make fun of my mother when she'd be overwhelmed by something we did, something we said, or just an emotion she had. I didn't get it. Now i'm overwhelmed. I realize I am so, so lucky, and the feeling of delight, pride in having this opportunity, and the fear it will somehow change, wash over me in waves.

I went over to another twin-mom's house a few months ago to pick up some extra formula (the low-birthweight, preemie stuff ... it gets expensive!) she no longer needed. A relative kept the kids at home during the day, and while I never asked questions or inquired any further, it was clear that one of the twins was quite developmentally delayed. His brother was toddling around while he laid on the floor, seemingly unable to do the same.

That morning, I'd had a serious breakdown. Sheer exhaustion, frustration, probably some PPD and uncertainty at how to live a life with two very needy babies, just home from the NICU, had me in hysterics. That morning, I threw myself on the bed, sobbing and moaning that I simply could not do this. I didn't want these babies, I wanted someone to take them away, I wanted my life back.

J., fed up with me and simply not understanding, told me to leave the house. Go out and get myself together, while he took care of the children. I decided to go to this woman's house to pick up the formula. Feeling sorry for myself when I arrived, I left with a completly different attitiude. One of gratitude and thankfulness for the healthy children I had been given.

Months have passed, the frustration and sleeplessness has ceased, but new challenges arise each and every day. Challenges with taking care of the babies, challenges with my new "mommy" identity (or lack there of), challenges with family, with fitting it all in. And some days, I feel down. Not the complete desperation of weeks and months past, but a general sadness and muted fear of the future.

Tonight I turned on Extreme Home Makeover. This show is always a tearjearker for me, no matter the situation. But tonight featured a family with a son with cerebral palsy. I don't know much about the disease, and I'm making some generalizations here, but he seemed so very disabled, and the family appeared as weary and exhausted as any I've seen. I watched this boy, his limbs disfigured, his body confined to a highly mechanized chair, and the parents that love him no matter. His face lit up when he was happy, the smile big, and some of the noises not unlike those that my babies make.

I thought about how my heart skips a beat when MyGirl or MyBoy makes a sweet sound, or how my body turns to mush when they turn to my voice and a wide smile spreads across their faces. When they master a new skill, I am filled with an overwhelming pride, as if I had just taught them.

I have years to look forward to with them, I have the anticipation of not only watching them sit up for the first time, eat food, and learn to crawl, but I will also help them with homework, talk to them about their boy/girlfriends, send them off to college, and hopefully, help them with their own children.

This family will never be able to do these things with their son. Quite possibly, those infant-like smiles and coos will be all they ever experience.

I feel simply overflowing with gratiude for this incredible chance to get to know my children. And I live in daily fear that something bad will happen to change our future. How do you get over the fear?