How is it possible that two 3-year-olds can have this much energy on so little sleep? I wish I could bottle it. I'd make a fortune -- if I shared any.
The boys have started asking about their cousin Scarlett. For the first year after she died, they never asked about her. We were impressed by their empathy. But now they notice the pictures on the wall and they ask where our baby is. I don't know if they remember her name. I tell them that she's in heaven. They ask if we're going to see her again. I tell them yes, when we're angels we will see her again.
I can't tell you how hard it is not to cry. But I bite back the tears because those 3-year-olds wouldn't understand why their auntie is so sad talking about her baby.
Having the twins here isn't the same as having our daughter here. But it's still wonderful -- as lovely as it is exhausting. For all their rambunctiousness, their sense of humor shines brightly.
This all just reinforces what we already believe with all our hearts. This house is meant to be filled with children. Our family is meant to be more than just the two of us. The fertility doctors may have given up on us, but we haven't given up on having a family. We will never, ever give up on that.
Someday the twins will be telling our children about their cousin Scarlett.