I haven’t written much in a while, and for people who enjoy my blog, I’m sorry for that. Honestly, I’ve been enjoying my summer, trying to set up several projects for launch in the fall, and take a little extra time with family. Then the family goes and gives me something to write about.
Yesterday, Honeybun and I had our first ultrasound. We found out we were expecting the Monday night before our wedding (as hilariously detailed in Episode 54 of Two Guys, One Podcast), and we’ve been ecstatic ever since, researching baby names, filling registries, remaking the house etc. But we’d both been on pins and needles to SEE the kid once and for all. Honeybun talks about “verification”. It’s not that she doesn’t believe she’s pregnant (she’s showing all the obvious signs, including having felt the baby move in the past few weeks), but just that sometimes she feels crazy because the symptoms and the hormones and the well…if you’ve ever been pregnant or lived with someone who has, you understand.
So there we were, smiling and starving for a look. When we got more than we’d bargained for when we SAW not one, but two bambinos. Twins, though there are ZERO sets of twins on my side of the family for generations back on either side, and just one set on Honeybun’s side of the family. Twins, though Honeybun was on birth control (again, as hilariously detailed in Episode 54!) and I’d said we needed to wait AT LEAST a year or two before adding even one more member to the family. Twins. Oh my.
So what does that kind of information do to you? For Honeybun and I it was astonishment, then elation (holy crap, we’ll get to do two kids, but all at once and still retire on time, woohoo!), then a little panic (holy crap, we’re going to have to feed four children for most of the next two decades or so!), then a lot of nervousness and fear. As any parent can tell you, the vast UNKNOWN terrible thing is the worst part of being a parent. It sits on your shoulder, weighing you down as you go about your job and the carpool and kickball in the back yard. The vast UNKNOWN terrible thing (or the VUTT as I like to call it) is what replaces the boogeyman and monsters in the closet for grownups. The VUTT is what you read about happening to other people’s children in the paper, the million different syndromes, conditions, diagnoses and labels that you fear your unborn child might have that will somehow make his/her way in life just a little harder, when you already know it’s plenty hard enough. The VUTT is the bus accident you heard about in the next town over or the school shooting you saw on the news. It’s cancer, it’s diabetes, it’s depression, it’s Down’s Syndrome it’s Parkinson’s disease, it’s congenital heart failure and male pattern baldness.
It is the terrible secret of our genes and the cruel twist of fate and there is nothing that can be done about it.
The VUTT descended on Honeybun last night, in a full double portion, as befits the news of Twins. She’d feared and dreamed and hoped for our child already, of course, but last night just before we climbed in bed it hit her with all it had. She bent under the force, as I have time and time again. Parents, if you haven’t cried a few tears thinking about all the ways you can’t possibly hope to protect your kids, then I question your parenting. Or at least your humanity. But my Honeybun surprised me, as she has since the day I met her. She immediately saw the VUTT for what it is. Motivation. Listen to that scary little voice on your shoulder, feel it’s weight from time to time, and then carry it for your kids. Make sure it keeps you from ever forgetting a seat belt, or a locked medicine cabinet, let it make you understand how important every moment with your children is, and how few there really are when you add them all up.
We created the boogeyman and monsters under the bed and in the deep woods to keep children in line, and perhaps Someone greater than us gives us the VUTT for the very same reason.
We’re scared. And humbled. And excited. And blessed.
And thankful to everyone who’s dealt with the VUTT or Twins or blended families or parenting before us. And thankful for the love and support we’ve already been shown. As Son #1 said about Honeybun and me getting married, “My family is getting bigger with love!”
Amen, kid. Amen.