Our Third Year

Wednesday is our wedding anniversary. Three years we have been married. Most of the time it seems much longer, occasionally we are shocked by the time that has passed. The feeling that I can’t really remember life before Shaun LaRose, is quite amazing. I can’t imagine life without him. Our eldest daughter, Manessah Elizabeth LaRose is the same way. We remind her that God sent her a gift of a father when she was four. After we got engaged, people would ask her if she was excited to be getting a new dad, she would tilt her head sideways, and studying their faces closely she would say “I’ve always had a dad,” with a lilt in her voice that implied how sorry she was that they just didn’t understand these things. Expecting some revelation they had not heard of yet, they would inquire as to whom that was, “Well, Shaun of course. My name is Nessah Lizbeth A Rose.”

We have birthed three children in that time. We conceived twins a month after our wedding. Apparently twins are a woman’s business, but I can’t help imagining that it was my husbands overly aggressive sperm that caused the egg to split. A fluke, most OB’s say. Well, I guess I dropped a fluke, if I had dropped two eggs then I would have had fraternal twins. Every day I can’t help but wonder about my identical twin boys souls. I pretend that Elisha’s spirit hovered just a little longer until the moment when the split occurred, perhaps this is why he has always been just a teeny bit smaller than his brother, Kaiden. It was hard to distinguish what was what when they were inutero. The tangle of limbs seemed an endless confusion of what belonged to who. Eventually they chose sides for the last part of the pregnancy, until a week before delivery, when Kaiden did a complete flip, dramatically pushing my belly ten inches to the side, he gave up his head down position for his smaller brother to be born first.

I pushed them both out in fifteen minutes, without a break. I strained as thirteen (most of them unwanted) people in my room imitated panting, grunting, and shouting at me to PUSSSSHHH! Losing it at one point I bellowed at them all to SHUT UP! The response was immediate “OKAY, WE WILL, BUT PUSSSSHHH!!!” They didn’t keep their promise. Kaiden was going into distress and without the aid of contractions I pushed him out to avoid a C-section.

Twins are hard. They are demanding and rarely ready for the same thing at once. Before I knew better, I thought of twins as needing to do their daily routines at the same time. ‘With one,’ I thought, ‘you feed him lunch. With two you just have to feed two lunch.’ It is rarely true. One will be ready to eat the other will have filled his diaper. When they are sick, they take vomiting crying rotations. I’m very sure they consult with each other “Hey, I’m getting bored with screaming, think you could take over for a while?” With another peer to consult about what is right or wrong, chances are it will go more in your favor, especially at the age of two. It is easier to justify playing with your own poop if someone else says “Hey, forget the spanking we might get, this is really cool!” Still, there is nothing like four adoring eyes staring up at you. Double cuddles, hugs, and kisses. The hysterical laughter of two little boys at the same time will steal your heart, and there are always enough people to play a game.

Their entrance into our lives has forced us to redefine what is important in life. It has enriched our days, exhausted our nights, and given me a mental break down, that ultimately changed our day to day lives in dramatically, lovely, ways. Shaun is more of a man than any I know. He sees the care of children as equal between us, and more important than any job. He knows that if a baby wants me more than him, that this is a problem about how much he has helped, and he has never allowed that to happen. He sees the line of his wants versus needs clearly enough, not to compromise his integrity.

The twins were nine months old when Mason was conceived. I could never explain the terror that I went through. God sent me grace despite my little faith. Mason is a gift from him. Serene as stone and as soothing as breeze, he tastes like fresh water and smells like, well, like him. A majority of babies smell the same with a powdery, sour, scent, but they all go through a change and one day, suddenly they have their own scent. They smell human. The day this happened to Mason I buried my nose in his hair sniffed, and it all made sense, yes of course, this is exactly how he should smell.

So, this weekend we will celebrate the sorrows and joys that make up our marriage. Both the good and bad that God turns to beauty for His called children. He is good. He holds us together and blesses us with faithfulness and love for one another. Happy Anniversary, baby, I love ya!