I’m not sure I’ve said this before, but if I have, indulge me won’t you? I HAVE TWINS! And a year ago today marked my last day without the official crown of “Mama”. That’s right, the baby ladies are turning one tomorrow (Better duck: that’s time flying by!), and I’m having a tizzy of a time trying to get my mind around the whole wonderful deal.

Here are O and Ro during their first week home:

Of course, making it all so hard to grasp at times is the fact that the wee babes weren’t supposed to be here; to say it was “difficult” to see the dream of parenthood come into fruition, would be true, but a vast understatement. We’re still baffled (and grateful, and humbled, and…) to this day. In fact, not a week goes by when I don’t say to the hubs, “There are two babies in this room, and we’re down as their emergency call?” 

But it’s true and gloriously so. Here are O and Ro as of this morn:

I blame Sesame Street for that glazed over look on their mugs.

Because of our history, my doc sent me to a high-risk pregnancy doc to run some blood work–just to make sure all was well. The hubs opted out of that one due to the fact that there weren’t going to be any “pictures” taken that day, or so I thought.

The next thing I knew, I had that cold jelly all over my belly (hehe–call me “Jelly Belly”) and the tech was doing an ultrasound. I was too scared to look at the screen (especially since I didn’t have my wingman with me), so I focused on the Doc and her “healthy pregnancy” spiel. (Dr. K. doesn’t really “spiel” though. She’s super fabulous and supportive and patient and I love, love, love me some Dr. K.)

Right about then Dr. K. forced me to look at the screen and gaze upon what I’d never seen before: a healthy heartbeat. She assured me it was a far better looking little bean than all the other little beans she typically sees. The most beautiful bean that ever was–

Wait. That’s not true.

That’s when the tech interrupted Dr. K., asking her to look back at the screen. Tears flooded my eyes, and I bit my lower lip until it bled. (Wouldn’t it be AWESOME if I totally lost it in this room with these two complete strangers?) 

Tech: Dr. K., would you please look at the screen. It’s going to change everything you’re saying.

Me: (What? Are you kidding me? I cannot believe my husband is not here with me right now. We’re going to lose another…)

Dr. K.: Well, well, well!

Me: Duuuuhh? Huh? Wha?

Tech: Am I right?

Dr. K.: I believe you are! Kara, if you’ll look here you see the healthy heartbeat I showed you a minute ago. It’s right… there.

Me: Uh-huh. (Gulp. Breathe.)

Dr. K: Now, if you’ll follow my hand, I’ll show you … the other heartbeat. Also healthy.

Me: What?

Dr. K.: You’re going to have twins-

Tech: Looks like you’ve got yourself a “two-for-one special”!

Dr. K. went on to describe and detail a whole slew of things after that, but I don’t think I took much of it in that first day. There was a lot of nodding, though. She asked me to stay in the room and wait for her to come back.

So I did… not. In my delirium, I started to leave. (Did she just say “twins”?)

Receptionist: Ma’am? Would you like to schedule your next appoint–

Dr. K. ran after me into the waiting room. Turns out the trippy news just kept coming. Seems I was going to have identical twins, which are “even more rare”. Then she brought me back into the office to make my next appointment–and to make sure I hadn’t gone totally whackadoodle on her in the last hour.

My head was spinning. Had I reacted at all? How creepy was it that I had no reaction at all? No crying. No wailing. Just–my head was spinning again.

Here’s what you need to know: I had a prayed for twins. Begged for twins. Longed for them. I think anyone who struggles with infertility does. Why not get the whole gang in one fell swoop? That tech was right: a two-for-one special.

So imagine the unbelievable weight of knowing what I’d hoped for, knowing how statistically rare identical twins are (they happen “by chance” alone), and yet here they were. Here they are. It’s true and gloriously so. I felt like God was staring into my heart and laughing heartily, tenderly, excitedly after giving me the greatest shock of my life. The plan all along. Wow.

Now I just had to tell the hubs. But that would have to wait until I found my car, which only took me walking around the same city block for a solid hour–round and round–while gasping against a blistery wind on a painfully cold January morning. (Snot runs out of Kara’s nose [due to the insane wind chill] as strong gust blows it back into her hair.)

Aaaaaannnnnd scene. A-men.