Holding my son(s) in my arms. When I first found out that I was pregnant with my sons, I was terrified and overjoyed at the same time. The idea of motherhood, let alone the idea of twins, was daunting. As my pregnancy continued, my fears were doubled as I discovered one of my sons had Hydrocephalus. Once the twins were born, my stress levels continued to accelerate as my sons were both in the NICU. Then came the surgery for the Hydrocephalus, a zillion doctor appointments and many unanswered questions. When the twins came home, they were both so small that I had to wake them in the middle of the night to feed them just to make sure they were getting enough nutrition. Rarely did I get enough sleep, have any peace of mind or any real time to just sit back and "hold my baby(ies)". Four years later things have gotten much better. I now get enough sleep, lead a relatively peaceful existence and have time to myself during nap time. At four and a half, my sons are full of energy, excitement and wonder. They hardly ever stop for a moment, so I try to enjoy every precious hug I get from them. Today as I sat down to write this, one of them started crying in his sleep. I stopped writing, went upstairs, picked him up and rocked him in my arms until he fell back to sleep. It felt good to hold him, to inhale the scent of his hair, to caress his cheek. I'll hold on to this moment for as long as I can.
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