I don’t know why I’d never heard the term “Irish twins” until recently. Why, if we’d managed to get the ball rolling just a little quicker, Summer might have had her own little Irish twin! As it is, she’ll have to settle for getting a sister “just over a year apart” who, if she’s lucky, will occasionally be mistaken for her twin.
And, that is all Mike would feel I need to say about the matter. He’s far more private than I am and doesn’t particularly believe anyone else needs any explanation regarding our decisions. I really love that what anyone else may think doesn’t weigh on him in the least. I love how protective he is of our big family. I love the confidence I feel being next to him and being reminded that this is our family, our path, and our story. Mine. And his. And ours.
Still, I imagine I'd have to be a little more . . . something than I actually am if I didn't admit to rather . . . human feelings -- to sharing that sort of innate desire to be understood; to have my decisions and choices respected; to have questions come from sincere curiosity and desire to know my reasons -- rather than from presumptions. Dismissive or blanket comments or opinions seem so . . . I don't know . . . I guess unfair to the path I have walked in getting here. They don't give justice or weight to the worry and struggle, the thought and prayer and consideration, the uncertainties I've faced, and especially to the answers I’ve received and faith I've had to exercise in creating this family. This is, perhaps, one of the most purposeful and conscientious decisions I have ever made, but, it is not one I ever would have guessed (a year ago at this time – when I was as pregnant as I am now) that I would be making. I think all of us want genuine interest and understanding when it comes to our decisions and our steps (here-and-there into the unknown a bit) as we wait for more light and try to figure our plans here in mortality.
And, while I still don’t understand or know all of my plan, or even all of what having this new little one means, there is something I DO know – something that is entwined and woven so fully into my makeup as to be indistinguishable and inseparable from all the other things that make me who I am (genetics, education, preferences, beliefs, experience, etc.).
I know that I am eternal. I know that I (we) did not begin existing 38 (or 24 or 52 or 76) years ago; and I am sure that I will not stop existing when I leave here.
All mixed in with that certainty – all part of it – is the knowledge that who I am and what I want to do and accomplish and become . . . is something that can't be contained in a small span of mortal years. It is something I shouldn't limit by what I can see clearly in front of me. Me existing forever is coupled with a surety that this life is just one part – a wonderful (and scary and blind) part -- of a much larger whole; a snippet of a story that didn't have its beginning here and won't end when I leave here. And being so utterly convinced that that is truth is powerful. Powerful enough to change decisions, powerful enough to change desires, and definitely powerful enough to change plans.
Life feels so . . . big right now. Sometimes all I can do is shake my head over it all – over how wild and crazy and unexpected . . . and perfectly beautiful it all is.