If I didn't have you

There are two things in life for which we are never truly prepared:  twins.  

~Josh Billings

Even before I started writing it, I knew that this entry would be off track.  However, the more I thought about it, the more I believe it does fit under the whole overarching theme of this blog of immeasurably more.

You see, I am a mother of multiples.

Discovering that I was expecting baby 3 and 4 was most definitely immeasurably more than I had ever imagined.  My paradigm had always included me being a mother of two or three... never four.  However, I daily look at these little men and marvel in thankfulness.  

Before I go any further, I feel as though I need to also put out the caveat: this entry is not me writing to rant or to try to change a specific view.  This is me speaking only for me about mothering twins.  

I know that I am also living out what for some would be a miracle - that they would give so much to have their arms full of kids.  My world to them appears to be an illustration of 'what-might-have-been-if' with the resulting feeling of a sense of deep loss without ever experiencing it.  In that vein, I can't even begin to broach how heartbroken I feel for those who would love to have children (or more children) but are unable.  I can only imagine and I grieve with them and I appreciate their view of my boys as gifts. 

And in that same track, having many friends who are single, married or in relationships without children, parents of single children, parents of two children, parents of eight children... I can't express how much respect I feel about each individual's choices with regards to family.  

Yet, I guess that's what it comes down to for me: respect.  

I respect that everyone's journey is unique and different, but it is often challenging to live a life out loud (and it is loud... really loud) parenting four boys when the society I live in is very much set up for two children.  

And yet... here's the reason I am writing: I would like to change a perception about my life with four boys.   Countless times in the last three years I have introduced my family only to hear the comment: "you're exactly the reason I didn't have a third child!".

I don't suppose anyone ever wanted to be a walking public service announcement. Generally, I find levity or, at the very least, I am diplomatic about the many (and there are so many) comments about my twins; however, in this case, I have to say I am becoming most irriated by this particular comment.

Granted, I understand that for many parents, a third child is beyond their comprehension.   I get that.  I realize that they are only speaking for themselves and for what would (or wouldn't) work for their paradigm.  Maybe it could be seen as funny and I know it's been said in an entirely light-hearted-way many times.  Maybe it's a knee-jerk-inner-voice reaction that is said without much thought about what it might mean to the recipient of the message.  

Message received: my life appears to be some kind of reassurance that they made the right decision, a form of an ironic lottery recipient, an illustration from a parallel dimension of 'what-might-have-been-if...'.  No worries; it's understandable from this side of my own ponderings.  

Though last week when it was said to me by yet another stranger who I had just met, I hit a wall.  Thus my irritation.  However, I think it goes much more beyond this.  This quick assumption that less is more is missing some really important outcomes.

The comment about me being the reason to not have a third child because of my experience in having twins is a challenge.  It is delivered by the individual as a confirmation of the choices that she and her spouse have made, but for me, it is a dismissal of my children.  And lately, I've come to believe that it's a dismissal of the journey I am on.  

You see, no matter how challenging it is to parent two infants [two toddlers, two preschoolers, (not to mention to the challenge of learning how to parent twins in addition to two older brothers)], these two boys are incredible blessings.  The journey I am on is a hard one where it is necessary to be stretched in ways I couldn't have ever imagined - from carrying two babes to 38 weeks to having a very full lap whilst comforting them when they are both in tears.  As they are growing, they are growing me in ways I could have never anticipated.  

I remember that old me - the one who juggled life with two kids and a professional life.  I have changed so much.  We went into our third pregnancy prayerfully and after much deliberation.  I know that this is the path that we were meant to take.  It's not the path for everyone; it has meant pouring out in ways I never would have predicted.  Parenting the boys has brought me out of my comfort zone, changed my perceptions of how life is supposed to me, has taught me things that have made me wiser, has taught me lessons (and I am continually learning) which have changed the topography of my heart and, quite possibly, has made me a stronger woman.

Ultimately, as pointed out in this blog entry about marriage, true love means being in a relationship that is not for you.  Motherhood is not for me.

In loving these boys, I grow while I reap joy, I discover that peace isn't about a set of circumstances and I count my blessings.  

I had always loved the poem Song for a Fifth Child. Sometime ago I began writing a poem for my third and fourth children.  With a deep breath (and no small amount of trepidation), here it is...

If I didn't have you

Sitting on the worn dock

looking at the sun set

looking back to me ten years ago.

Remembering that life 

and that pace of days,

thinking about all I didn't know.

I can't sit here that long,

can't stay and meditate,

because your brothers are in a battle

and I've got to mediate.

You're so full of spiritedness

and not too shy for energy

There's so many endless days

that I'm sure you've got the best of me.

And maybe that's the point -

one of the best parts I find -

you've brought out the best of me

in all of me I've left behind.  

Mothering, all I have in each one,

goes beyond your child-like wonder

and joy in your having fun

I hold you tight

and tuck you in

and pray for futures

before dreams begin

but more than that

I see how it's true

what my life would be

if I didn't have you.

If I didn't have you

my life would be

One big pursuit

of things for me.

I might have travelled

or written a clever book

but you've moved my heart

in just one cheeky look.

The chapters written

in your steps

are worth tomes of words

people would soon forget.

So maybe I choose not to care

when people look at us

and stop to stare

because I've heard what they've had to say -

that there would've been an easier way -

but they'll never understand

because they never had you.

If I didn't have you

maybe I would've seen some places

and rested on sandy beaches and social graces

and I know that there's times that I'm left out

because of my life that speaks in untamed shout

But the geography of who I am 

has been sculpted into something new

and it's a thing of beauty 

that I'd have missed

if in this life 

I didn't have you.