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Dear New Years babies,

February 1, 2014

Dear New Years babies,

Thing 1 and Thing 2,
Mario and Luigi,
my baby and your baby,
The Twins.

I would have had a million things to call you before your Pops and I would spend a month and a half debating your real names. If one of you was a girl, you would have been Natalie.

But I can’t even imagine giving you names anymore.
You were just a plus sign on a stick I peed on.
One of you, a pool of blood I woke up in.
The other, a polka dot on an ultrasound, stuck in the wrong place.

I hoped for you.
I remember how disappointed I was the first time I took a pregnancy test and it was negative. I admitted to your Pops that I wanted a baby over a burger at Handy Andy’s.
A couple weeks later, there  you were: my first episode of morning sickness on Christmas day, my positive test on New Years Eve, then my heartbreak on Valentine’s day.


Where would I have put you? Our tiny shoe box house already stretches at the seams every December when Luke gets presents for his birthday and Christmas. All the junk in our closets… My collection of kitchen gadgets… A roomful of musical instruments that haven’t been touched in a year…
What I would have given away so you could live here.

I came home crying. Of all the nicknames I would have had for you, I never thought “no baby” would be one of them.
I came home and had to tell your Pops, “There is no baby.”
Even worse, there were two. Now there’s none. No baby.

We didn’t tell anybody.
I think we even tried to hide it from ourselves.
We didn’t tell anybody about you until 2 pregnancies later. I was so ashamed that my body failed at the one thing it’s supposed to be able to do on its own. I should have known it would be a little harder to make something out of nothing, especially 2 things as beautiful as you would have been.

I’ve tried to forget a lot of things about you, but not anymore.
Every morning I wake up (on my own) and remember that there could have been two babies around to wake me up earlier.
My baby and your baby.
Thing 1 and Thing 2.

The twins.

I won’t forget you.
Love, Momma.

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