Yes, two. My babies are two. A few days ago, when I realized they were turning two, I panicked. I don’t know how this happened. From the moment they came storming into my life way too early to this moment now, time seems to have escaped me.
Infertility. Prayers. High-Risk Pregnancy. Bed Rest. Premature Birth. NICU. Loss. Milestones. More Milestones. Setbacks. More Setbacks. But…
Love, pure love.
I’ll be posting about their most fabulous hungry caterpillar party – and how we pulled off a birthday party for them while they were technically still on their last year of lockdown – over on the Thirty-One:10 blog next week.
Until then… here’s a sneak peak at their cuteness and my heartfelt letter to them.
Dear Braden & Tenley,
Two years ago today, I was recovering from an emergency c-section that brought you into the world at 27w5d. That night, feeling nothing but the pain meds, I comforted your daddy as he talked to me about the possibility Carter may not make it, not really comprehending that it was your brother we were talking about. Many people prayed that day, even strangers, for you, my trio. What a crazy entrance you made into this world, but what miracles you are. Even Carter, still working miracles from Heaven as he continues to touch lives.
But even before that… before you were even conceived, people prayed for you. People wanted you. People wished for you. Even people I didn’t know and people who didn’t know God. It was amazing to watch and humbling to be the center of.
Braden & Tenley, you have fought through so much and come so incredibly far. I couldn’t be prouder of you, or our little family. No milestone matters more than the fact that you lived. I don’t care if you haven’t mastered something yet or if you’re behind in an area; all I care about is that you made it. You came home. And that you’re thriving and becoming little people who amaze me daily; that you each have such sweet spirits and distinct personalities.
That you’re meant to do big things in this world, I just know it, because you’ve been through more than a person should have to, and you’re only just two. The fact is, leaving the NICU wasn’t the end of your struggles, it was only the beginning; The beginning of a longer road… a road that would continue to show the world that you’re fighters, survivors, miracles. That friendship matters, that concern for someone can build bonds with people you’ve never met. That prayers get answered, even if not in the way you’d expect. That love can get stronger in tragedy, that faith can get deeper. That differences can be put aside, and wounds can be healed, relationships mended. That mothers and fathers have breaking points, but community helps put them back together.
Look at all you’ve done in two years, B&T… look at all you’ve done.