A Questionable Forever

As I sat in the rocking chair with one of the babies last night the usual thought popped into my head - "Soak up this feeling!  Hold on to this moment.  Remember how everything about it feels"  I often find these thoughts popping into my head during normal everyday activities with my boys.  I know part of it is because everyone tells you it goes so fast.  And twin moms will tell you most of them don't even remember the first year - it was just a blur of survival.  And boy do I feel that sometimes.  But the realization I came to is for me, it goes beyond that.

Obviously we went through a lot of heartache, disappointment, questioning, and pain before the arrival of our two miracles.  Having suffered 3 miscarriages it's really no wonder that I spent my entire pregnancy waiting for something horrific to happen.  Everyone told me during pregnancy that this was just the beginning of the worrying.  "Wait until they get here" they said.  And I always thought to myself "At least then I can see them - prove to myself that they are okay".  To me that was a huge relief.  And I knew I'd still worry but having them physically in front of me seemed like a much lighter weight.  Turns out we were both right.

I can tell you that now with them here when my anxiety starts to get the best of me it's a relief to be able to pick them up.  To be able to look down at them and see them smiling at me and reassure myself that for now, in this moment, we are fine.  However there's still a part of me that feels like they could somehow be taken from me at any moment.  I find myself feeling stressed and anxious about having to do it ALL as if it will be my only chance.  I don't talk about their future down the road further than the  next month.  I can't envision them walking, talking, going off to school.  It still feels like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.  And that every second I have with them is so precious because it may be my last one.

We recently lost a dear friend of ours.  He was 33 years old.  He was my husband's best friend since elementary school.  They grew up together, went to college together, stood up in each other's weddings, and spent all of their free time together.  Through my husband he became a huge part of my life.  His wife became one of my closest friends.  The four of us did everything together.  We helped each other through hardships none of us ever thought we'd have to endure.  We were there for each other.  And I take comfort in the fact that so many people have told us that when they were with the four of us they could feel the love we had for each other.  The easy way we laughed and joked.  The affection we had for each other.  And the strength of our friendship.

Losing this friend, so young, so quickly, so unfairly has only reinforced that forever is not guaranteed.  Yes we "beat" infertility.  I, finally, was able to carry a pregnancy to term.  And the fear and worry associated with just getting them HERE is finally behind me.  But there's no promise of a happily ever after ending.  And while it may not be the healthiest outlook to live life being aware that catastrophe could strike at any moment I'm embracing it.  In memory of the babies I lost, in memory of my friend gone too soon I will recognize that time is fleeting.  And I'll live my life to the fullest to honor them.  I will set the phone down.  Turn off the TV.  Let the dishes sit in the sink and the laundry wrinkle in the dryer.  Because there's nothing more important than this family that we fought for.  Yes forever is questionable.  But I will live each day knowing that however long my forever is - I'm making the most of it.