Sometimes I reach down and touch the incision: still painful, queeby numbness. It will never let me forget that night. This purple bump-strip is the remains of a nightmare. But then… it's sacred, too.
Liam was here. Ben is here. They passed through here, their opening.
Three months ago to right now I was shopping for maternity clothes in a fit of nothing-fits desperation. Three months ago tonight I sat with a heating pad on my back, unknowingly breathing through contractions, crying in frustration that I just wasn’t tough enough to bear twins. You know how the rest goes.
I just can’t believe it’s only been three months, the lifetime lived since then.
Today was Ben and Liam’s due date, and tomorrow is Ben’s birthday. His age is now comprised of an adjusted slash: three months / zero. The milestone countdown begins now. Six weeks to a smile, that’s the one I’m hungriest for.
A measly three months and I’m ten times the mama I was before by measure of both darkness and light.