The Double-Huge Announcement

Ellie and I decided a while ago that two is the optimal number of children for us. We always knew we wanted at least one child, but we wanted that one child to have a sibling. Having no siblings, I completely missed the sibling experience, and Ellie missed a lot of it having one sibling 11 years younger than her. Plus we figured that two children could entertain each other meaning we wouldn’t have to do so much parenting all the time, and anyway only children tend to turn out kind of weird. If we had more than two, though, we would start running into space issues, like trying to hold onto more than two children with only two hands.

Our original plan was to wait until near the end of Ellie’s residency before adding a final piece to our family. That way everything would be easier because it was all in the future. Several months ago I started thinking that I want to do something more constructive with my life than saving big bucks by making my own baby food, and the sooner we have that next child, the sooner we can dump them in school, and the sooner I can return to having a career, preferably one that in no way involves food preparation.

In April we decided it was time to try for another child. By May, we knew the frighteningly glorious news that Ellie was pregnant, and due January 15th. My head was spinning as I finally wrapped my mind around the concept that I had acquiesced to having another child, and that child would arrive when Abbie was only be 19-months-old. Still, this was what I wanted, and, boy, was I going to get it. If everyone waited for the perfect time to have kids, no one would ever have children. Though I can see an upside to that world, I’ve also heard lots of stories about children being blessings so I’m going to take their word for it.

I was anxious to discover the gender of the new delivery. Ellie was anxious too, but that was for different girlie reasons; my reasons were utilitarian, specifically to know how much more stuff we would need. Some things, like the crib and bottles, we could recycle for either gender, but for other things, specifically clothes, I need to know the gender. If it’s a girl, we can recycle almost everything we used for Abbie without fear of the younger sister complaining about hand-me-downs for years. If it’s a boy, we need to discard heaps of pink and flowery outfits in favor of blue and dump trucky outfits. Since Ellie works in a hospital, she has ready access to ultrasound equipment for peering inside, so we just had to wait for the little organs to develop. By July, I figured things had progressed far enough to determine gender, so I started pestering her about every other day to check so I could start rummaging if need be. Several days ago, she finally had the free time to check. She took a few pictures and brought them home for me to see, and after she explained what the heck I was looking at on the ultrasound, we had a verdict: We’re having a boy! And a girl! Well, maybe a girl because the second one was in a bad position to see, but the important part is there’s definitely a boy and a second one in there!

NNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After I stopped bawling, I started to consider the ramifications of what would happen. For starters, twins almost always come early, so I’ll be entering extreme parenthood sooner than originally expected, probably right around the end of the year. Then there’s the logistics of it all; I barely managed to raise one child this far, how could I possibly care for two babies simultaneously while continuing to care for the slightly older one, what’s her name, Abbie? What about space? We live in a tiny two-bedroom home, and both bedrooms are already occupied. We need to start making better use of our available vertical space, but nobody makes a bunk crib.* And then there’s the future; name any age 2 and up, and we’ll have three children right around that age. That’s three kids in diapers. That’s three children under 4, with two in their terrible twos and a third in her not-much-better fours. That’s three teenagers in the house. That’s three teenage drivers, each needing a car and insurance! That’s three kids in college!! That’s three weddings to help finance!!! At least I get to go back to work early.

Don’t get me wrong; we’re excited, just a little apprehensive. While shopping for baby stuff, we ran into another couple doing the same thing for their expected twins. They were much more excited and pleased about the impending event, but this was also their first (and second). We have Abbie, so we already vaguely know what we’re getting into; they don’t. Suckers. What can I say? We’re blessed. Horribly, horribly blessed.

* Trust me, I already checked.