Bittersweet

It was seventeen years ago today my twins were born. I was only a little older than seventeen myself when they were. They made their grand entrance into this world during the rain storm of the century. A storm so severe and with so much downfall it only occurs every hundred years or so. Some highways flooded, off ramps were closed. Hubby, my then boyfriend, had to take many detours to make it to the inner city hospital I had been transported too. It didn't matter if he made it in time or not. I would not let him into the delivery room with me because I didn't want him to see me in labor.

Early that morning, he had dropped my off in the local emergency room on his way to work. Having lost weight during my pregnacy instead of gaining, we had just assumed I was ill once again from dehydration. When the admitting nurse examined me, stethoscope in her ear to check my babies heart rate, she placed her hands on my swollen abdomen, and exclaimed, "Your as hard a rock! Your in labor!".  This was news to me. Having been to sick the previous nine months earlier to attend a parenting class, I had no idea what to expect.

My diabetes had caused complications during my incubation time. Being new in the cities, young and unmarried, away from my family, I had felt very isolated. "Steal Magnolas" had just came out in video.  I had no medical insurance coverage. I was an extremely high risk case. I understood why they were shipping me to a bigger facility.  A huge piece of me died in that trip into St. Paul.

I was delegated to the charity ward of the hospital and it was an intern with extra time and in need of experience who took care of me. Him and evil nurse who's face I refuse to remember. Not having coverage, I was denighed any pain killers for my contractions. "You don't need it", I was told, "Your babies are small."

I rocked and moaned and panted that night under the nurses instruction. Ironically, I had too much dignity to scream. I made the intern rub my back. In between I would shut my eyes and pretend I wasn't there and it wasn't happening to me.

When Jon finally emerged I had only abrief view of him. He resembled my Chatty Brother baby doll. Beautiful, perfect and blond. As still and white and cold as the table underneath us. Other than a few grainy ultra-sound pictures I never seen Jan. I screwed my eyes up tight shut and would not open them again, preferring to listen to the sound of the rain falling outside my window.  The sounds of my boyfriends sobs drown them out when he was evenually allowed into my room.

The pressure of closing my eyes so tightly left me with bruise circles like a raccoon around my eyes. But few tears were able to leak through. I did not know how to grieve, or being in my circumstance, that I was aloud too. 

I give myself that luxury now. I also remember their birthday every year. I used to question why all that pain? Most difficult pregnancy have a happy ending with a baby. My pain only ended in more pain. As I look at my two sons I have with me to eat the twin's birthday cake, I understand now why God had chosen to give my twins the direct route into heaven. Not to cause me any sadness, but instead they only know bliss.  I was not ready to be a mom back then. I value my living children more because of them.

As I cut and passed put the chocolate chip cheese cake, it was my older son, K1, who noticed the sadness lingering behind my eyes. Handinghis friends, the Jakes, forks to eat with us he said, "Thats ok Mom, you still have four boys."  Leave it to K1 to put things into prespective.