Two Love Stories And Understanding The Twins' Loss

Six months after we were married, my husband went away for the weekend to a conference with some friends. Even that little time felt too long! Over the next three years of our marriage, we lived in two countries outside the US and visited about seven others. And we were never apart for more than 24 hours.

In early July 2017, we decided that Matt should go back to the US to see his family. So we booked his ticket. And then we got a call asking us to take twin girls! (You can read that part of the story here: Intro, Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.) Matt's ticket was booked, and at that point, we'd have to pay to cancel it. So we decided Matt should still head back. While there, he could sell off our storage unit of belongings to raise funds for the twins' adoption.

Not having my best friend by my side for two whole weeks was hard enough, but knowing that two little ones would be counting on me made it even harder. 

A love story

Matt and I actually met online. After three weeks of talking to each other, he decided he wanted to marry me. (Yep, three weeks!) He flew across the US to meet me and ask for my dad's permission.

I met Matt at the airport. He was the last one off the plane, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw him come around the corner. As we walked to baggage claim, I remember looking at him out of the corner of my eye wondering why it felt like I'd known him my whole life.

Our first stop was Multnomah Falls where I introduced him to Pacific Northwest salmon, and he held my hand because the path was slippery. The couple that took this picture for us asked us how long we'd been together. We told them it was our first meeting and they were shocked because they thought we must've known each other a long time.

 

Six months later and we were happily married. I've never regretted it!

Two weeks long distance

As you can imagine, going through one of the major challenges of our lives without him was incredibly difficult. We Skyped regularly while he was in the States. I wanted the girls to get used to his voice and sometimes he'd watch them for me while I took a quick shower or made myself a meal. It was comforting to know he was there.

Things to do

Aside from caring for the girls, we still needed to get everything in order for the adoption. Some of my time was taken up trying to get as much documented as we could before the trail grew cold, so to speak. Part of this meant getting as much information as we could about the girls' birth mother.

That process ended up being more emotionally difficult than I'd imagined.

While thinking through things we might need to know or that the girls might want to know in the future, I found myself forced to think through the same things about my birth mother. I always knew that I was adopted (my family is Caucasian, so there was never really any hiding it) and in middle school, I went through all the documents that told my story.

My birth mother's love affair

My birth mother had an affair. When she found out she was pregnant, she kept it hidden from her family. She hoped that a baby would persuade her lover to marry her. I'm thankful she didn't tell her family, as it's likely they would've pressed for an abortion due to the shameful circumstances. When I was born, he still wasn't interested in marrying her, and she gave me to a lady who took in orphans. The lady tried to persuade her to take me back, telling her I was a "good baby" but my birth mother wasn't interested.

When I first learned all this, I was hurt. I felt rejected and didn't want to have anything to do with her. Later, I even felt anger towards her when I learned how stress increases the cortisol levels passed on to the baby in the womb. High levels of cortisol can negatively affect the baby's development and cause them to feel high levels of stress and anxiety. 

Having to hide me for almost the duration of her pregnancy must have been stressful, which explained why parents and teachers were regularly telling me "not to stress out."

Grief and loss

After marrying Matt and thinking through my birth mother's situation again, I realized I wasn't angry with her. In fact, I pitied her. I could now imagine what it must have felt like for her to be rejected by her lover. And the frustration, disappointment, and resentment she probably battled.

But it wasn't until I was holding my babies in my arms that I finally felt grief for the little baby in me who had lost her mother.

I'd never thought of it that way.

But looking at the tiny infants in my arms, knowing that they couldn't understand why that familiar voice and smell and touch wasn't there any longer, I cried. For them and for me.

And there were times when they cried in sadness too. They were fed and changed, but they wanted to be comforted. In those moments we grew closer. And as we spent more and more time together, it seemed like they were beginning to recognize the person who was there to comfort them around the clock.

Daddy's home

The day of Matt's arrival felt like forever! He finally got in around midnight.

We stayed up late talking and holding the babies together. Then because he knew how tired I was, he stayed up with the girls to feed them. I brought them to him, one at a time and he fed each girl, letting her fall asleep on his chest. When the next one was hungry, I would bring her to him, take the sleeping baby while he fed the other. He did that all through the night. In the morning I found him asleep, fully clothed, in the recliner.

It was such a relief to have him home. Now we could tackle raising the twins together!

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