For the most part, my life has been pretty normal as normal goes. I was reared by my father and mother, the youngest of five children. We were raised in church. I accepted Christ as a young teen. Went to college, got a job, got married and had a child. I was not perfect by no means but I was a pretty decent person. Never did the drug/alcohol scene. It amazes my daughter that I’ve never drank a beer. There have been a few life changing events along the way, marriage, the birth of my daughter, Katrina, but those do not compare to what I’m about to share.
Around the middle of December of 2006, I got a phone call. “Do you know the latest rumor concerning your daughter?” I was asked. No, I replied. “She’s pregnant”. I paused and then tried to nonchalantly say “Well she hasn’t told me about it if she is. You know how rumors get started”, as my heart beat a little harder. Just a rumor, can't be true.
I didn’t say anything but I watched for the signs after that call. They were there. Sickness, sleepiness, tiredness, no period. It came time to ask. “No, I can’t be” she told me. I prayed that was so but I knew better. I wanted to get through Christmas then immediately after I bought a test. I woke her up early one morning and had her take it. That big plus sign hit me like a slap in the face. At that moment it became reality. Every emotion possible ran through my mind and body. Except anger. I never got angry with my child. Yes, my 15 year old child was pregnant.
I guess like most parents, my husband and I wondered where we went wrong. We were Christian parents. We were at church three times a week, sometimes more. This shouldn’t happen to folks like us. Well, the Lord showed us.
She and I went for her initial visit to the same doctor that delivered her 15 years earlier. I cried the whole time.
But there was never any doubt that we'd keep the baby and it would be loved.
It was hard going out in public. I felt like everyone was talking about us disgraceful parents and our trashy little girl. It was weeks before I went to Walmart and when I did I felt like I was naked. We didn’t go to church. We just couldn’t face folks. My pastor called to check on us. When I broke down and told him he was very sensitive and supportive. I didn’t tell my family. They had to find out through the grapevine. And they did. News like that travels fast in a small community.
There was a tiny smidgeon of excitement when the sonogram was scheduled to find out what the baby was. That day finally came. My beautiful tiny little daughter lay on the table, while me and the father stood beside her. The tech said, “There’s one head. And there’s another head”. WHAT? Yes, my tiny little daughter was having not one, but two little girls. Excitement, pure excitement, set in at that very moment. I didn’t care what people thought about me, my husband or my daughter. We were having TWINS!
It was an up and down pregnancy. Preterm labor was stopped once. But after 32 weeks the girls would wait no longer. They were small, 3 pounds 13 ounces and 3 pounds 10 ounces, but healthy. They were beautiful tiny little girls.
That’s been almost a year ago. I cannot imagine what life would be like without my precious babies...all three of them. It’s hard. Twins are a handful. But it is twice the fun and twice the love.
It amazes me how the Lord took what we thought was a tragedy and turned it into a blessing. A double blessing.
Life is hard. God is good. Amen!
No, I'm not getting divorced. After 24 years I have him pretty well trained so I think I'll keep him. I'm referring to my brother and his animals. My pets become part of the family. But not to him. He buys and sells or gets and gives and doesn't think twice about it. Oh, I don't think any less of him for it. He's a wonderful brother, a super nice and friendly person that everyone likes. He's a part time farmer and I guess that's just what farmers do. Just last week he sold his beautiful herd of black angus. We live in the old family home so the barn and catch pen is behind our back yard (yes, we even have an old family cemetery in our side yard). I had been taking my grandbabies out to see the moo cows every afternoon. Several of the cows would let you close enough to pet them. The babies were entranced. It had become a daily ritual. Now they are gone. My brother just says "I'm gonna get some more". Get 'em, raise them, then sell 'em. It breaks my heart to lose a pet. Earlier this year I lost my 12 year old kitty and my 10 year old pot belly pig. I cried, my daughter cried. I might have even seen a tear in my husband's eyes. Maybe it would be easier if I were more like my brother and was just unattached.
So where do people get the time to post blogs? I started this thing a month ago and have not had a chance to get back on it since. I'm busy at work and busy at home. I see others who post daily or even more than once daily. I guess you have to scrape and dig to get those extra minutes to write. Maybe I'll do better at it and make it a point to reserve some time, at least once a week, to write in my blog. We'll just have to see how it goes.