This is a re-post from May 2010. I felt it really needed to be re-posted, as it deserves two rounds of props. ONE for surviving twins at the ripe old age of 19; and TWO, because when I first had the idea to start this blog, she submitted her story almost immediately. I originally thought this blog was going to function more like a women's collective, but as it turns out, "good intentions" don't produce posts, (even with my closest friends) and I sure experienced a whole lot of good intentions last year. To be honest, I didn't think I'd be sharing THIS many of my own stories, but after about 40 personal posts, I thought "Holy shit, maybe I do have a lot to say!" But this post, this story, it's one that came to my mind as one that I really wanted to have told even before I started blogging; one of the reasons I started in the first place. This is not a blog about being a mom, but rather how we, as women, got there - THE JOURNEY; the crazy, hysterical, bizarre, heart-breaking and often fucked up journey! When I first posted it, I think I had 2 readers, one being myself. From one twin mama to another, I sincerely thank you for actually following through and sharing your story with me and with my readers - which should hopefully be more than 2 this time around. :)
----------------------------------
Looking back, I never thought my life was very interesting…it was tough but I think everyone has their own set of issues to deal with. Mine started at the ripe old age of 16; high school, grade 10. In walked the new kid, handsome and mysterious… and lots of girls I knew thought so too. I introduced myself and 2 weeks later, we were dating. I remember that he asked me to marry him when I was 17 he was 19. It was sweet and we always knew we’d be together forever, so that was never a concern, but who knew our lives were about to change dramatically.
We had been together for 3 years and guess what…. I got pregnant. I was 19, and scared shitless. I think the moment where I had to tell him was the most frightening (at the time). We talked about it and realized that there was no possible way we could have a child. We were just too young and immature; we had nothing. I remember I must have gotten pregnant sometime in February, because I was about 10 weeks along when I went to the ultrasound…by myself. Sounds depressing right? My theory on that was I didn’t want anyone else to have to see the baby that I was going to abort.
So sometime in May I headed out to the ultrasound, got suited up and the technician put the “goo” on my belly. I remember that moment like it was yesterday; it’s etched in my brain so clearly that I can still feel the tears pour down my face as the technician very clearly said, “OH MY GOD, IT’S TWINS!”
It is amazing how 5 simple words in the English dictionary seem so harmless on their own, but when they are put together to form that one sentence, they can change your life so dramatically. It felt like a thousand knives stabbing me all over at once, and then I felt empty. Countless different scenarios went through my brain within about 5 seconds, but it always went back to the same one, “How am I going to raise twins?”
The technician printed off three pictures of the babies for me. As I drove over to my boyfriend’s house, still crying, I held onto the photos. I actually remember that he was in the upstairs bathroom and as I walked through the door I could see him at the top of the stairs. He saw that I was crying and asked me what was wrong. I opened my mouth to speak but absolutely nothing came out. Still clutching the photos, I walked up the stairs and handed them to him. If you’ve ever seen a twin ultrasound, it very clearly says “Twin A” and “Twin B”. If I could have paused and relived a moment in my life, it would have been this one. It’s truly amazing how two people can look at one another and know exactly what the other is thinking without saying a word.
And so began the rest of our lives. That was May; we were married in July, and the twins were born in September. (By the way, we’ve never called them “the twins”) My husband started college the month the babies were born– you want to talk stress??? Holy crap! I was 19 years old, in a two bedroom apartment, raising twins (and nursing them) while my 21 year old husband was in school. Nightmare! We had so much help from family and friends to make it through the tough times… and we sure had our share of them. I like to think of our story as rags to riches (we aren’t rich), but we definitely worked hard to get where we are today. Mostly thanks to my husband; he worked so very hard all of those years to make our lives better. I am now a thirty two year old mom of 12 year old twins and I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone’s.
I’ve been asked this question before: “If you had a chance to do things differently, would you?” And here’s the answer, “Hell no.” Why? Because if you have ever experienced the incredible feeling you get when you look into your children’s eyes and say to yourself, “What was I doing before I had you? I can’t remember what my life was like when you weren’t in it.” To me, that means they were always supposed to be here; that’s just the way it was meant to be.