I found this picture on our computer, I'd never seen it before. Chikezie took it while we were sleeping and for some reason I never saw it. My babies, freshly born, only a few days old. One against the warmth of my chest, the other snugly cozied up in my arm. As much a part of me as they were only a few days before, secure in their temporary home. Peaceful.
People who don't have kids wonder how someone would possibly want more after they've had enough to complete their family. Honestly, I think Chikezie wonders how I can even want more. This picture makes my heart skip beats, makes my eyes well up, makes me beam with pride. This picture makes me want more.
To be honest, the young days with the boys wasn't that rough. It's all we knew. Yes, everything took a lot of time, there was occasional frustrations, uncertainties. I've been through a few other harder things in my life than raising twins. (The pregnancy was one) But what else did I have to do? Nothing. Nothing but love my babies. Everything else seems insignificant compared to that.
I want this experience again, selfishly. And sadly, I'll never get it in the same form. I'll never again have my first babies. Having another would present a whole new set of challenges and obstacles. But, I know one thing, I'm a hell of a good mom, and I could handle anything.
Chikezie is happy with just us four. I am, too. For now. But I still hold out the hope that maybe another little love with bring itself into our life when we least expect it. Babies are the best kind of surprises.