This is not a story I tell often, the reason is that I get frowns and questions that I can’t exactly answer, so it’s easier to not tell it at all.
I have two grown sons, they are fraternal twins, but they were a work of God from the very beginning. Over 22 years ago I was not feeling well for several days, but we were supposed to travel to Oklahoma in October to help my sister-in-law move back here. We headed out, but food and I were not getting along. We reached our destination packed my SIL up and enjoyed a day or two of visiting. While we were there I got what I thought was my monthly cycle, but it was horrendous cramps and only lasted a day (no details it’s a bit gory) which was unusual for me. We returned home and life resumed its natural progression.
November came; I was fairly regular with my cycle so when it didn’t show up on or even close to my time I went to the drug store. Two EPTs later (I didn’t believe the first one) I realized I was pregnant. My husband and I had pretty much decided that children were not in our future. I was a cervical cancer survivor and wasn’t sure I could have children and we were content just to be us. That old adage, “Man plans, God laughs” most certainly applies to us. At my three-month checkup I said to my ob/gyn, “Are you sure there is only one baby in there because I am already in maternity clothes and I have almost popped?” The doctor assured me that because I did not have any of the markers for a multiple pregnancy that there had to be only one, “Besides we only hear one heartbeat, no matter where we place the Doppler.” Back then they didn’t do ultrasounds early on you waited until your 20th week.
Shortly before I was 20 weeks another doctor in the practice measured my fundus and with wide eyes told me that I was pretty big. She called and got me in with the ultrasound doctor that day. My husband is a former Army Ranger with the 101st Airborne, he was a big bad Army man and at that ultrasound I swore he was going to pass out, because the untrasound doc decided to play a little joke on us (mostly my husband as I could see the screen better than he could). “Oh look there’s one head, there’s two, oh look, three, oh my maybe four!” My husband went pale white! When the doc saw this he yelled, “No no no there’s only two!” We were having twins! I wanted to punch the first doctor I the nose and say, “See I told you I was awfully big!”
I had a rough time carrying the boys and wound up on complete bedrest for the last 13 weeks of my pregnancy. But the part that we don’t discuss often is that at each ultrasound after 20 weeks the boys measured significantly different. Baby “B” was measuring 3 weeks older than Baby “A”. I delivered at what they assumed was 36 weeks, Baby “A” weighed in at 5lbs even and Baby “B” weighed a whopping 6lbs 14oz. Upon further scrutiny it was found that Baby “B” had been part of a set of twins for which I miscarried one and then became pregnant with Baby “A”. This is not something that happens often in multiple pregnancies. I always was a bit of an overachiever. Baby “B” had to stay in the NICU for a week, but Baby “A” came home with me on the 4th of July. We had no idea what we were in store for, but He certainly did.
My boys birth story is only one example of God working in their lives. There is so much more to their story and maybe I will be able to tell it as I go.