The twins turned 11 months old last week. It’s sort of unbelievable. I’ve had every emotion imaginable in the last 11 months, but the most recent caught me a bit off guard.

We had a friend who recently had her second baby. We were so excited when they announced their pregnancy because we knew it meant that we’d have kids fairly close in age. She had a normal pregnancy and then went into labor a few days after her due date. I was so happy that she’d carried full term. She was really our first very close friend to have a baby since we had ours that cold night back in December that I will never, ever forget. Naturally, I was a bit worried when she went into labor, as I’m still in the frame of mind that anything can go wrong and it’s very hard for me to remember that my circumstance is not necessarily the norm when it comes to giving birth (if you haven’t read the birth story, find it here). Alas, her labor progressed normally (and quickly) and a few hours later they had their little boy.

Several days later I asked how much he weighed, mostly because that’s what you do when people have babies…you ask the stats. It’s almost like saying, “Hi, how are you?” It’s just something people do. And then the answer came: 10 pounds and 5 ounces! And here’s where I was caught completely unprepared for my own emotions. I had a flood of GUILT. Yes, I was happy for them that they’d had such a healthy big boy, and I might have expected to feel jealous more than guilty, but guilt was what I felt.

I felt guilty that I had not been able to carry our babies to term, or even to 35 weeks (which was a goal of mine). I felt guilty that they were so small, that they had to stay in the hospital for 78 days after they were born. After I felt this flood of guilt, I remembered that this was the way I felt every day they stayed in the hospital and I went home. I did my absolute best to have a healthy pregnancy, and really, I did have a healthy pregnancy up until the final hours, so I really have no reason to feel guilty about anything. I did everything in my power to keep those babies in as long as possible!

I realize that these feelings are completely irrational, but I’m learning that much of motherhood is that way, and the things I worry about and fret about are unreasonable, but I think I’ve discovered that most of my feelings are what they are because of my deep and profound love for my two children. Never have I loved anyone or anything so much (sorry babe, I grew these little humans…) and I can’t really explain where it comes from. I think the love of a parent for a child is something that can’t be understood until you have a child of your own.

And, on a lighter note…here’s a brief update about our twins:

1. They are 11 months old. It’s crazy.
2. They’re doing really well.
3. They are practicing eating solids, though Rylan has taken to eating real food much better than Neala. No surprises there.
4. They are crawling like maniacs
5. They laugh and smile all the time
6. They’re sleeping through the night and usually take two pretty decent naps during the day (read: our bathroom is cleaner than it’s been in 11 months because I have a few more spare moments to clean it).

And in honor of National Prematurity Awareness Day, here are some before and after pics of our little preemies.

Happy Monday everyone!