Irish Twins

             I will never, not ever, as long as I live, forget the look an Steve's face when I told him we were expecting again, our precious Miss Ivy just 6 months old. It was actually Christmas Eve. Just a few days before, I had experienced the undeniable sensation of morning sickness. We were so caught up with getting Christmas ready for a dozen children that I hadn't had time to take any sort of test.

Steve was sitting on the floor, wrapping. I showed him the infamous plus sign, a little hesitantly, not knowing what his reaction would be. He just looked up into my eyes with the most serene, joyful expression.

I needed that response. Miss Ivy had had a dangerously short umbilical cord. I would start contracting with just minimal movement. As a result, I had to remain in bed for most of the last two months of that pregnancy. Countless friends and neighbors brought food. I had very little ability to do anything with the house and my little boys were still happily running amok. I was embarrassed. I had worked for decades developing a mantra of "What other people think of me is none of my business." That's easy to remember when dealing with gossip and life in general. But here were scores of women in and out of my increasingly out of control home and they were seeing for themselves that I wasn't up to the task at hand.

And now I was expecting again just six months later.

As thrilled as I was about having another baby, "What other people think of me" was definitely at the forefront of my thoughts.

           Christmas is always magical with a house full of children. It was especially so for me that night. Nichole and Spencer were preparing for missions and were experiencing so many emotions. Steve and I decided it would be best to wait for a calmer moment to announce the great news to the kids.

Before all of the excitement of opening new jammies, feeding reindeer and setting out eggnog for Santa, we like to read from Luke. Daddy reads and the kids don impromptu costumes and act. And then my favorite moment of the year occurs. We sit in a circle, no lights on but the tree, and share our testimonies of Christ. Then we sing together for a bit.

Miss Nichole loves to sing "How Great Thou Art". We sang it that night, lights twinkling, and it overpowered me.  As we sang, I knew that God is in control. I knew that His will was coming to pass. I felt confidence in Him, if not confidence in myself. I knew that this was right and I knew that this baby was another precious little girl that needed to be in our family.

A month later, I had an ultrasound. I was not 8 weeks pregnant, I was 17! Due date exactly the same as Miss Ivy's,  one year later. Baby looked fantastic and was 99.9% positively.... a LITTLE BOY!?!?! Even with the pictures I couldn't convince any one, including myself, that She was a He. It just didn't feel right. I had felt such a strong impression at Christmastime. Because of the scare with Miss Ivy's cord, we had a second ultrasound a month later. She was absolutely a She and her cord looked perfect!

Miss Isabella and Miss Ivy have very different personalities that just seem to compliment each other in the best of ways. They inspire one another....sometimes to do greater things than they probably ought to be doing.

July 2013

July 2014