Naive

I'm sure by now those of you that have followed us for awhile can tell that I absolutely LOVE being a mom. I love hugging them and kissing them, I love listening to them talk and watching them learn. Sure I also have my trying moments, but I realize even during those times how very blessed I am.


We tried for several years (8+), with never a positive, before being blessed with Da'Gorgeouses. I never gave up hope and had faith that I'd be a mom someday. My mantra was, "One way or another I will be a mother!" I can honestly say that it was a struggle, a journey full of heartache, but all those feelings of failure, those few moments I'd spent falling into the abyss...they were completely erased once I knew I was pregnant. I was ecstatic, elated, overjoyed. I loved every single minute of being pregnant. The fear of it being snatched from me, at any given moment however, never went away. I prayed every night the Our Father, x number of Hail Mary's, the St. Gerard Prayer for a Safe Delivery, and every night in my prayers I spoke to both of my grandfathers asked them to watch over my babies and myself during my pregnancy. I told no one except my closest relatives that I was pregnant, and it wasn't until I had reached 13 weeks, when I was no longer able to hide my rapidly expanding twin belly, that I shared with anyone else. Even my extended family had no clue I was even pregnant, at least not until after Da'Gorgeouses arrived unexpectedly.


I'm not a pessimist, as a matter-of-fact, those who know me well, know me as one who generally looks on the bright side, my glass is always half-full. Every day that I wake up and breathe is a day to be thankful for. So when Da'Gorgeouses were born weighing only 1.4 & 1.5 lbs., 16 weeks early, tiny, fragile angels given to me by God, I supposed I should have been scared silly. Yes, I worried. Yes, I cried. But somehow, not for one moment, did I ever believe things would turn out differently than they did. My mom is an RN, so she knew the scoop. My dad, well, having been to Viet-Nam, he's seen enough in his lifetime to know things don't always turn out the way we'd like them to. They spent many a day in the NICU lobby crying their eyes out. I can understand it now, I see all that they had to worry about, they didn't just cry for their only grandchildren, they cried for what their daughter was going through. They had wisdom and experience as their guide. But they raised me differently, sheltered from all the horrible things that can happen in this world. They taught me to see all that is good, and no matter what the situation to turn a negative into a positive. They taught me to smile wide because every day we are alive our life is a celebration, and above all they taught me that there is always faith and hope and love.


When the neonatologist told us within those first 3 weeks that the scans showed LongRifle having a grade/level 4 IVH (brain bleed) in her right hemisphere, and told us all of the complications that could occur, and the percentage of likelihood that said complications would occur, both DrillSgt. and I cried. But you want to know what my first words were to her once I could compose myself enough to speak? "That's okay, we'll be okay. You see, both dh and I are teachers, so if we have to work extra hard and extra long to get help her then that's what we'll do! We'll use flash cards, we will do whatever it takes, and no matter what happens she's our daughter and we will give her nothing but our best!" So, call me naive, call me a dreamer, call me an optimist...that's okay, because I now have 2 wonderful daughters that call me MOM!