When acquaintances first find out that we are expecting twins, the response is usually, “Congratulations!” Or maybe something like, “It’s a double blessing!”

It is. I know that. I know that women everywhere are fighting with their entire beings to conceive a baby, have a baby, keep a baby, adopt a baby. We’re unbelievably, undeniably blessed.

Also, if you’re gonna have twins, you really couldn’t ask for a better set of circumstances than these. Both sets of grandparents have already offered sacrifices of their time and money that absolutely move me to tears. There’s no way we WON’T be OK — our families will make sure of that.

Still, I worry.

I’m worried that I am going to be too tired and careworn to appreciate my children’s babyhood.

I’m scared that I’ll go into labor prematurely, or that something will happen to one of the babies. (When I thought I was pregnant with just one baby, I could deal. Now, not so much.)

I am so, so afraid that Raisin will spend the rest of her toddler years playing third wheel.

It’s this last one that’s really keeping me up at night. (Well, it would be, if I could keep my eyes open EVER.) I was fretting about it anyway, as I’m sure any mom does when her precious, first-born, center-of-the-universe child is about to become “baby’s big sister.” Now, as well-meaning friends and family point out, Raisin’s world will be undergoing an even more drastic change. These assvicers pretty much have me convinced that I’ve spoiled Raisin horribly thus far, and that there is no question but that I will utterly ignore her once the twins arrive.

But hell, I can beat myself up over my awful parenting, and I can vow that I will do everything in my power to get some one-on-one time with Raisin to help her make the transition. The real question is, what do I do about the strangers who will, apparently, be gushing all over the twins while Raisin is shoved aside? (I don’t find this scenario hard to imagine. When Raisin was a baby, a stranger at Target asked me if it would be OK for her to lick Raisin’s toes. You can’t trust people around babies.)

I’m starting to think that I should wear a sandwich board when I’m out with all three kids. It could say:




Or, the less courteous but more honest



About Grape

I've got the world's best kids and husband. Great house, steady job. I'm living the American dream. The trick is to appreciate it. I'm working on that part.
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7 Responses to Worried

  1. Amy says:

    Our gobs of relatives who have come by since Leo was born have done quite well playing with Peter and not just oohing over the baby. I suspect it’s because Peter’s a lot more fun, but it doesn’t seem like he’s been overlooked by family, at least. Strangers do ask about the baby much more than the toddler, but I make a point of saying how old they both are and just bringing Peter up in general as a way of balancing things.

  2. Anonymous says:

    “…then talk to the Twins” sounds like advice given to men who focus on boobs instead of a girl’s face. Tee-hee!

  3. Emmie says:

    You could have a t-shirt made. I think a sandwich board might attract more attention than your twins would. 😉 Or a couple of onsies that say “look at my beautiful big sister!” Seriously, I’m a twin mom in the same neck of the woods as you (Mpls), and people are mostly pretty reasonable. That is, except the moron who asked if both of my very fraternal boys were from the same dad.

    Congratulations! I know it’s overwhelming, but twins really are wonderful too.

  4. Rude Cactus says:

    You’ll be tired but not too tired. You’ll be fine 🙂

  5. Isabel says:

    My sister in law had twins last year. And it kills me that people come up to them like they are a freak show. As if people have never seen twins before!!

    Anyway, they are great and so much fun.

    I was also raised with twins, and things turned out great for them.

    Seriously…you guys can do it. And do it well!!


  6. Julie says:

    Thank you all. I know you’re all right — we’ll figure this out and it’ll be OK.

    I just don’t know what to expect, and the unknown is very scary.

  7. Pingback: Thy Will Be Done « Fruit Salad

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