7 Months

This has been a rough week. Rather an emotional one. I can't explain why I cry all the time or am much quicker to anger. All I know is that I want time to stop. Things are happening too quickly. I am afraid to go to sleep. To close my eyes. Fearful that when I open them my babies will be little men. No longer able to fit in my arms. No longer smelling of baby powder and lavender. That I will no longer be their heroine.

I am still nursing. Not something I had ever planned on. Yet it is something that I love. I can't quite describe the feeling or the emotions that encompass having your baby look up at you and smile, with milk dripping off his chin. His eyes lock on you, boring into your soul, and your heart swells larger than you could have ever imagined. And at that moment not only are you complete, but all is right with the world.

The babies are growing so quickly. I went through their clothes this week. Clothes that they had grown out of. Tiny little preemie clothes. And I can't ever remember them being that small, which made me cry. And so then I had to watch the videos of them from when they were that tiny....and that made me cry harder. Is this how it's going to be? Life? Moving so quickly that it takes your breath away, leaving you winded and gasping for air?

I can't imagine my life at any point other than in this moment. I can't picture myself with kindergartners. Or high schoolers. Or as the mother of the groom. I can't imagine anything other than this day to day routine of diapers and toothless smiles. And honestly, I don't want the future. I want things to stay this way. This is a sweet time and I am loving every minute of it.

I get so frustrated when I'm out running errands and people make comments to me such as, "You poor thing." Or, "You sure have your hands full." Or, "Better her than me." Don't they know how hard I fought for these babies? Don't they know that the mere sight of them can bring me to tears? Don't they know that these babies are my life's masterpiece? Don't they know that I am blessed?

Every day I wake up and walk into the nursery, before they wake up. I like to open the blinds and watch as the sunlight streams in over their chicken fuzz hair. I like to watch them slowly wake up. Dusting the dreams of angels out of their eyes. I like to be the first face they see in the morning. For when they open their eyes and they see me, the moment is magic. Slowly a smile creeps over their face and then they begin to kick with their legs. Willing me to pick them up. And I do. I scoop them into my arms, inhaling their sweet scent and know that I am in the midst of my own miracle.